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Perhaps this life could finally belong to him and fate could fuck itself to oblivion.
The last part should be unnecessary, but Childe could at least wish that much. Because long before he knew it was meaningless to keep his composure at whoever Archon—or maybe someone residing in Celestia, he did not know—was responsible for his shitty life, he already had a hunch that life would just worsen. ‘Fucked up’ might be too light to describe it, but he had to excuse himself since his vocabulary did not grow with time.
His resentment, however, did.
Thinking back, nothing was ever a good occurrence even from his childhood: falling into the Abyss by some sort of bad luck, for one. Maybe it was not bad luck. Maybe his life had always been a collection of ill-fated coincidences. And unfortunately, some sort of unknown power decided that they had too much time on their hands and shifted those small coincidences into a well-spun thread called destiny—one that involved him repeating the same thing over and over and over like there was no end to it.
Childe used to love his life. He loved it and indulged himself in acts of pure atrocity in the name of loyalty. His life used to be raw, and he loved it. He loved his devotion, loved his battles. He loved. Loved, loved, loved, until—
Until he fell.
In love.
And that was when his life got fucked up.
The first time Childe realized it, his fist was connected to someone’s cheek in a not-so-light impact. The groans from the man passed just like that and Childe stood still, gazing at his hand that throbbed. Blue eyes blinked because what the hell?
A shrill voice cheered in the background, also passing by unnoticed, while a question rose in his head.
What am I doing?
Yes, what was he doing?
“Are you feeling alright?”
A familiar voice, a familiar tune. Childe turned and, there, walking up on him, was a familiar figure with bright summer eyes and a pearlescent white dress. With each step she made toward him, he could feel his heart fall to the pit and stomach lurched.
Is this…
“Heeey, earth to Childe!” the floating pixie chirped loudly, trying to catch his attention, yet he kept his gaze on the girl standing in front of him.
Curiosity glimmered in the pool of molten gold, maybe with a twitch of worry too, because it felt like she was scanning him. Yet none of that mattered. What mattered the most was…
“You’re alive…”
He pulled her into a hug and felt the warmth and softness. A whiff of her scent—refreshing like the morning dew, sweet like plump sunsettias—made Childe shake because he could swear that a moment ago, he was breathing in her blood and it was so sickening that her listless figure was the last thing he could see, and remember, before… all this.
“Hey!!”
“Childe, wha–”
“Lumine,” he pushed back and cupped her cheek, unblemished, a tad bit rosy, “you’re alive.”
Call it a force of habit or maybe a violent wave of relief and happiness melding into one—Childe pulled her into a kiss.
He got slapped afterward.
The second time Childe realized it, he was offering an umbrella to someone—a girl whose blonde locks clung to her cheeks and thin blouse created a second layer of skin.
It was Lumine. It was Lumine, he knew. She was his upperclassman, the captain of the fencing team, the beautiful star of the university, and his girlfriend.
But at the same time, she was not just all those.
She was a traveler. She was Mondstadt’s Honorary Knight, the one he fought in the Golden House, the one and only person who managed to block Her Majesty’s fatal blows. She was Lumine the traveler.
A push forced his mind to stop from wandering deeper into the sudden realization. Wetness registered to him when a pair of cold hands yanked him down, and his lips felt softness pressing onto them.
“I won!” A cheerful voice broke the pitter-patter of rain around them, and despite the grayness of the weather, her golden eyes glimmering bright. “I can advance to the national’s now!”
What did she mean by win?
The question lingered as he pulled her into a hug, a big smile stretched on his face as he felt her small figure engulfed in his arms. Childe thought he said “Congrats, moya zvesda! ” but all he felt was confusion and the white realization that was spreading like dread. Her waves of laughter filled his ears, overlapping with a voice that softly, weakly cradled his name in a few broken syllables.
No. This could not be real.
Because Childe swore he watched Lumine dying in his arms, her blood soaking his clothes and hydro daggers melted into puddles that washed everything away just a moment ago.
Fuck.
He really wanted to say more, curse more at this perpetual dying and living, but his body had moved before his mind could realize the situation he was in; a leap, a pull of his bow, a familiar white shadow and golden hue, and a gasp.
“Hey girlie, hold still.”
Again. This scene again.
“You’re like the stars in the night sky. You never cease to surprise me.”
How many times had it been?
“I just need you to hold onto it for a short while. I’ll come retrieve my vision when I have some time later.”
Eleven? Twelve? Was this life even real at this point?
Childe first realized it on the fifth life. This life of his—it was a never-ending cycle of repetition of his first life or him in a whole different world than the Teyvat he knew. Sometimes, he was living a life as a hitman. Other times, he was living a seemingly normal life as a student in a life where vision and elemental powers did not exist. Both familiar and new scenes entered his life on repeat, but one thing never changed.
Lumine.
Her, and the fact that he would always find her and love her. So much, so deeply, to the point where it was his only salvation in this repetitive life of his. And yet, Fate must be toying with his life because as much as meeting Lumine was his salvation, it was also a countdown for him to jump into another round of life.
Seven days.
Seven days after he fully realized how his life worked, after he regained all memory of his previous lives, Lumine would die. No matter what, no matter how hard he tried to protect her, Lumine would die. Accident, assassination, illness…
And her death was the trigger for him to jump into the next life. No warning, no delay. Golden eyes disappeared behind pale eyelids, smile frozen, warmth dissipated in his hold, and then…
“Childe, it’s been a while.”
Another place. A familiar or different world, but always, always the same outcome. Childe moved to his next life before the idea of Lumine’s death fully sank into him.
Just like that.
It was inevitable, Childe thought one day as he woke up in cold sweat—blue gaze slowly focusing on an unfamiliar ceiling high above. The sweet scent tickled his nose, and a figure appeared in his head. Someone with dazzling golden eyes, whose presence always brought him the peace he could never find anywhere else.
Fifteenth, a voice whispered in his mind as he pushed himself up. Linen blanket pooled on his lap, and his eyes absorbed the sight. It was a small, unlit room with not much furniture. Looking to the side, there was a basin filled with water sitting on the nightstand, and a small towel sat on its edge, dipping into the water.
Fifteenth, the voice rang again before disappearing together with him realizing that this was not his room. His head pounded, maybe he lurched when he stood, but what greeted him the moment he opened a door was the gentle scent of lemon and fresh flowers that washed all heaviness.
There, in the middle of a brightly lit room filled with flowers, was a girl sitting alone on a wooden chair with an unfurled bandage pooling around her feet. A heavy sigh escaped her as she reached for the fabric, only to stop halfway. Thin fingers raked through golden tresses, revealing a distraught countenance dipped in pain.
Lumine. It was Lumine.
“Ojou-chan ?” The word escaped his lips before he could form a thought.
Fifteenth, Childe. Fifteenth life–
“You should be resting,” she limped her way to him and tried to push him away, maybe back to that room, but the hand that rose to him was met with his own. Childe pulled her into him, hugging the small frame, and contained all of hers.
“Childe, what a–”
“Not again,” he whispered, voice raspy and on the verge of breaking, “don’t go– don’t die..”
Fifteenth life.
This was his fifteenth life. His fourteenth ended just now with Lumine killed by her twin brother when it should have been him who received the blow. How could– What kind of life was this? When would this fucked up cycle end?
Something landed on his back, tapping it lightly and rubbing comforting circles there. “Hey, hey, I’m not going anywhere,” her voice reached him quietly, muffled by his shirt, “I’m not dying too.”
Recollection of this life resurfaced and then sank in. He was a part of the Fatui, a Harbinger, but this world did not have vision or elements. He was 23, he had the same family, quite a similar predicament of falling into the depth during his childhood—overall, not many differences from the lives he had lived.
But Lumine… her brother had passed away. Blue eyes scanned the surroundings, catching colors and dainty shapes of flowers on display, pruning scissors on a table, and an array of ribbons and papers. This place… it was a flower shop.
Yes, a flower shop that he frequented in this life, and Lumine was the owner—a florist. Was she… did he love her?
No.
“Childe, are you okay?”
Not yet.
He let go of her, picked her up without saying anything, and put her down on the wooden stool. His hand reached for the elastic bandage and wrapped it around her swollen ankle. Looking up, he felt no sort of warmth that he always felt whenever he looked at her. Only peace, an insane wave of peace and relief, and he knew those were not it. “Your ankle is swollen. You should be the one who rests.”
This time, he had yet to fall for her. Maybe, he wished desperately, maybe if he could suppress it, he could save her and put an end to this exhausting cycle life of his. Maybe, this time, Childe could not love Lumine and everything would be okay.
Lumine loved him.
Archons, she loved him.
They stood side by side in a secluded corner in Liyue Harbor, ginkgo leaves falling around them, and the sound of waves filled the silence between them. Salty wind ruffled her white dress, lips red with rouge trembled as they tried to keep a smile from faltering. Molten gold irises looked away, refusing to meet his blue ones. But maybe that was for the best because he could picture himself with a strained countenance.
“Ojou-chan, I–”
I love you.
I love you.
Lumine, I’m in love with you.
“It’s okay! You love Zhongli, after all.”
Zhongli. Yes. Archons, he had been playing the role given to him in this life while suppressing his own desire, but—
As long as she’s safe… as long as she’s alive here in this life… at least…
Steeling himself, the hurt spread deep within him, but if this pain could change the outcome of the repetitive life, then so be it.
“Ojou-chan –”
“Cough, cough!”
Red.
Something red stained her pure white dress, reminding him of the poppies displayed in her shop, but it was not pretty. Sharp tangy scent overlapped with salty wing, and although Childe knew he was breathing, it felt as though ivy filled his chest and robbed everything.
How come–
“Oh…” she whimpered as frail hands lowered to reveal something blue amidst the scarlet. “It’s.. rose–”
“Lumine!”
He did not care if her blood stained him, did not care if he broke his own promise to keep his distance from her, because she was coughing blood and suddenly a blue flower, a rose, fell from her mouth. Her figure felt so small in his hold, so fragile like she was about to slip away any moment.
“Zh– …li.”
Zhongli. Yes, he knew something was going on between them, so he must know something about this. Gathering all of her, Childe broke into a run, uncaring how he bumped into fishermen and the milleliths until he saw a familiar house and barged into it.
Zhongli rushed to the door, ever-serene face twisted into alarm, and tugged his arm to follow him into a room. “Lie her down, slowly,” he commanded and crouched next to the bed as Lumine wheezed amidst all the blood. “Hang on, I will call Doctor Baizhu–”
“–too la-..te,” her sweet voice was reduced to broken whimpers, piercing his chest like dull knives. “Late… Zho– ..i.”
Too late? What was too late?
“Chil–..”
“I’m here,” he immediately grabbed her hand, cold, bloodied, thin. “Lumine, I’m–”
Sorry? Actually in love with you? Destined to keep loving you no matter what, no matter where? Afraid of losing you again and again?
He did not know what to say. Instead, he watched her red lips form a small smile.
“Li– ve well… in my s–..ad. –ot blame you–..self..”
“No. No, no, no, Lumine,” her strained smile started to blur. Warmth slid down his cheek, once, twice, thrice… falling down to her small hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”
Her head barely moved as she shook it, eyes gradually losing focus, and the movement of her lips spelled ‘thank you’. Then, golden eyes disappeared beneath the lids. A soft tap on his shoulder and Childe was left alone in the room.
Silence greeted him, and a nauseating yet familiar sensation appeared. Lumine died. Again. Again. No matter what he did, the outcome was the same.
Fate really played a sick game with him.
“We’ll meet again. We will. Again, and again,” he kissed her limp, bloodied hand as the world distorted and pulled him into the darkness.
“See you in our next life, moya vselennaya, moya lyubov.”
They said that most people are other people.
“Hey, we meet again, aibou!”
But Childe was a mosaic of Lumine–
“Hmph! What? Do you miss Paimon and Trave– Hey! Let go of her, you pervert!!”
–all and each of hers across the years, timelines, and universes.
“I do. Terribly so.”