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Have you ever wondered what would happen if two estranged brothers were forced to survive in an apocalypse alongside an explosive child? Well, alot of things actually. .
Kaeya turned his head slowly. He was in a small room, sparsely furnished in the way of someone who only kept things that had a purpose. The bandaging on his shoulder and stomach was tight and professional, which ruled out the possibility that he'd done it himself. He had a dim memory of cold hands and antiseptic and something curt and unsympathetic, which had, for reasons he couldn't explain, made him feel substantially better.
Diluc, then.
He tried to sit up. His body lodged a formal complaint in the form of white-hot pain radiating from his shoulder, and he stopped halfway and held very still until it subsided to something manageable.
"You're going to tear the stitches." a familiar voice said. Kaeya turned his head to the door, facing his past brother. Diluc had his crimson hair tied up loosely a high ponytail, a few strands falling onto his face. His scarlet eyes which were so full of emotion back then, held an empty glare, and a spark of... Concern..?