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Time heals all wounds, they say.
But when time stands still, even for a second, how long must someone suffer them in that frozen span of eternal nothingness?
Kaeya hadn't thought about it in ages. Things had moved on, suturing old wounds and misunderstandings with a thin needle barely felt through the fabric of time. Before he realized it, he was surrounded by friends and warmth: things that he could desperately use now, as he sought shelter from a simple rainstorm. A request from Adelinde had him on patrol of the winery grounds due to some suspicious activity in the area. Low behold, he found nothing but the discomfort of a storm rolling in.
The patter followed him through the double doors, creating a static downpour of white noise as he flicked his fingers dry and tried to minimize the wetness on the aged hardwood.
With a soft curse, he moved to dry himself off just a little. He made a mental note to apologize to the maids for the mess, and he tried to towel his hair enough to move around without making it worse. Where was Diluc when you needed him anyway? There was nothing like being dried off in a quick snap of fingers, steam rolling off your clothes in a wave of heat.
As if to answer the question, there was a sound. A violin. Music flowed through the space so faint and discreet that he thought he imagined it at first. It almost seemed too strange to be real.
Kaeya wasn't musically inclined enough to know the name and first note by memory, but he knew the song by the third or fourth. One after another, forming a haunting melody.
It had to be Diluc, but something seemed strange. Maybe the bow or a string was too tight or too loose, but not even enough to say it was off-key.
Finishing his formerly dripping hair, he moved towards the sound, letting the quiet echo of his footsteps form a beat to it like a metronome. It was a song he hadn't heard in years, not since before Crepus passed. Once upon a time, it had been one of the late head of the Ragnvindr family's favorites.
Why would Diluc play it now? Something didn't seem right, the closer he got the more distorted it sounded, the rain outside a hum that somehow warped the notes. The world seemed to match the phenomena as he stepped into the grand study of the manor, the open space and acoustics exactly as he remembered, but devoid of the life and warmth he once knew. Shadows cut lines from the window panes, casting the world into dismal greys instead of rainbows on the library shelves he used to climb.
And there, on the opposite side, was Diluc.
For a moment, he marveled. It was so unusual to see the vibrance of that flame muted. The way light curled on the features of his best friend was like worship for the sun's chosen—bright and blinding. Now here, in this fractured space, Diluc appeared almost monochrome.
The bow of the violin in their hand moved with grace, but the song didn't. It sounded canned or soulless—played without any form of spirit or life to breathe into the notes.
Kaeya's skin crawled with a chill.
As if he'd willed it to stop, a string snapped and made him jolt, but Diluc seemed unphased.
The redhead only paused, slowly opening his eyes, lifting the bow and then the instrument from its place with a quiet contemplation. The garnet eyes so familiar to Kaeya seemed dull and unpolished, lacking the usual sparkle as they didn't even seem to notice him. Diluc moved away to sit on a nearby bench with the now useless items in hand.
"Diluc?" he called out, coming a bit closer as if approaching a ghost instead of a person.
There was a second of recognition–a fleeting spark of life in the shell in front of him. His name was spoken as a statement. A regard. Not a question or concern, just, "Kaeya."
Encouraged by this tiny cry for help, he closed the distance between them. The light of the window shimmered on his skin with the falling rain, stepping from the world of color and into the desaturated realm that had taken Diluc hostage. Closer now, he could see the damage it had done to someone he knew so well.
The vibrant redhead was a shadow of their usual self, sunken eyes and unkempt hair. Diluc didn't move as he gently reached for the neck of the violin in their fingers, only to notice their knuckles were swollen and red from overuse. Everything about the former knight looked exhausted.
"Diluc, what happened?" his voice dipped into concern, coming down on one knee to rest near theirs.
A smile, curling chapped lips with a wry laugh. "What hasn't happened...?"
Kaeya searched for answers on the normally strong face, a single star divining a blank canvas for a sky. His confusion was visible, brows knitting and a small frown enough to encourage them to keep going.
"I've lost everything..." Diluc said, voice barely above a whisper. Each item was spoken slowly and given respect, as if in mourning. "Father... you... my honor as a knight... I can't trust anyone. Hell, I'm a terrorist abroad."
Sitting the abused instrument aside, Kaeya placed his palms on Diluc's knees, then gently took one hand in his own as he listened to Diluc continue.
"I don't know what I'm doing anymore."
Kaeya didn't know what to say to that, not really able to give an answer to a question he asked himself on the regular. Thoughts came and went to reassure- to try and comfort- but it seemed hollow. Lowering his eyes, he silently accepted the small defeat.
"I should have just died that night."
"What?" The word left Kaeya with a jerk back up.
"That night... It should have been me, or I should have died beside him."
"Don't say things like that," Kaeya said firmly. "Call me selfish but I don't want to live in a world where I lose both of you."
"It just... would have been better if it was me... instead of father," Diluc continued, voice oddly vacant in comparison to the normal confidence. It was like Kaeya was looking at a smoldering ash pile—only the remnants of what was a flame. "He was a better man than I can ever hope to be."
"He'd never agree to that. You were his pride and joy. He'd never want to trade places with you."
"Some pride," they scoffed. "I can't even play a song right."
"That's because you haven't practiced in ages and you fucked up your hands."
"I'm a fuck up in general," Diluc softly argued, but still no real spark to the words. "You'd all be better off without me. All of this is my fault."
"You know that isn't true. That will never be true."
There was a moment of silence before they spoke again, "I'm so tired, Kaeya. I'm so tired of all of this."
Kaeya brushed over the abused knuckles, the heat of the swelling practically screaming against the pad of his thumb. Diluc only made a soft sound of acknowledgment, as if the realization only solidified a thought that wasn't shared. He knew he needed to do something, but it was difficult to argue against thoughts he had reserved for himself. It wasn't as if he didn't understand the feeling, much less the grief and desire to simply let it all fall silent. As he sat there, on one knee in front of Diluc he found himself wondering how long they'd shared this horrible thing too.
While he had tried to heal, what had Diluc been doing? It was no secret the illustrious hero and vigilante had been a solo act for most things, so was this just another battle he’d fought alone as well? While the two of them weren't exactly as close as they used to be as kids, Kaeya found it difficult to believe the very real image in front of him… and it made him wonder—what had he been doing that had left Diluc this lonely?
He didn't know what to say.
How did you tell someone something that you barely believed yourself?
Would it be a lie to say it would be okay—or just a shared hope?
"I know," he said, holding the battered hand with a gentle squeeze. "I know, Diluc."
Yet he just couldn't leave it be. Maybe it was the lingering guilt or the nostalgia for the bond they once had, but he just couldn't leave Diluc like this. It was a small miracle he'd even glimpsed beyond the walls and curtains surrounding their present life, much less seen them so vulnerable.
If he left now, it felt as if he'd never see them again and he'd regret it for the rest of his life. He needed to stay. He needed to be sure they'd be okay.
"Let's go in the other room and get you taken care of... When was the last time you ate?"
Diluc didn't answer at first, blinking slowly. "Can't remember."
"We can start with that," Kaeya tried, slowly rising to his feet and taking Diluc with him. The redhead moved slowly, mirroring him somewhat but still too lethargic or stiff to do so easily.
"I'm not really hungry," they mumbled.
"I know, but you should still try. I'll make something light and easy."
Diluc stopped at the doorway, hesitating until Kaeya wrapped an arm around the broad shoulders and guided them forward. There was some sort of mumble about Adelinde, likely trying to avoid the gaze of the head maid who cared too much, but Kaeya has a feeling that his arrival wasn't pure coincidence. It was likely there was never a reason to call him here other than the fact he'd run into Diluc.
Settling the other down at the kitchen table usually reserved for the staff, Kaeya went right to work. Rummaging through the ingredients and cookware, he found enough supplies to make a simple but familiar dish. Diluc said nothing the entire time, almost vacantly staring into the blank space of the table. Kaeya briefly wondered if they had fallen asleep if not for the occasional glance in his direction.
"Remember that time," he started. "When you ran out of violin wax and you used actual wax instead?"
"Rosin," Diluc corrected. "I had forgotten about that."
"Master Crepus was pissed," Kaeya chuckled. "He'd just gotten you that bow after you broke the last one trying to use it as an actual bow."
The redhead made a sound, almost a chuckle.
"And then he got it fixed, only for you to break your violin strings trying to play it like a guitar."
"They're both string instruments. The logic was sound," they defended.
"So is a piano," Kaeya playfully mocked, looking over his shoulder.
He was proud of the huff he received in response. Diluc fell silent again immediately after, but he wasn't deterred, moving on to the next little memory, then another, and another... Anything to keep Diluc talking and remind them both of the days when color wasn't so hard to find.
Diluc nibbled the plate of food, pushing the vegetables around more than eating them but that was just another sign of life. He fixed himself something as well, then moved to the next order of business: half coaxing and half dragging the stubborn mule of a man to the washrooms to tend to the bags under their eyes and that rat's nest of hair.
"You know," Kaeya mused. "I used to get pretty jealous of you sometimes."
He could feel the eyes turning up, even if he couldn't see them as he worked a brush through a tangle in his hand.
"Master Crepus used to look at you like you were his whole world."
Diluc made that familiar sound, a little hum from the back of their throat in thought. "Sorry, I wasn’t fishing for compliments or trying to make you feel inadequate."
“No, no it’s just… I just don’t think he would have this any other way. If there was ever a choice—Master Crepus would always put you first."
Diluc didn't say anything, just sighing in quiet disbelief. It wouldn't sink in, not yet and maybe no time soon, but Kaeya still wanted to say it.
“You don’t need to measure up to him or fill his shoes. He wouldn’t want that for you.”
“He wouldn’t want what I’ve become, either.”
Kaeya frowned at first, but gave a sad smile. “I wouldn’t say that—remember that time you got caught sneaking out?”
"You'll have to be more specific," Diluc said in an almost dry tone. There were too many instances of it to narrow down to a specific one.
“Your father wasn’t mad because you did it. He was mad because you went through the window and could have hurt yourself," Kaeya said almost proudly, curling a wave of red back by Diluc's chin where it belonged. "When he found out it was to feed those kittens down the road, he was proud of you for being willing to risk yourself for something weaker and smaller that needed you.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I maaaaay have overheard him talking to Adelinde after you were grounded.”
Diluc seemed to deflate a little. “I guess.”
“Adelinde adores you too, you know? You should give her a raise.”
He scoffed. “An early retirement maybe.”
“Oh sure—with a hot cabana boy serving her every need.”
Diluc looked disturbed. “I don’t think she’d like a hot cabana boy-”
“You don’t know that,” Kaeya replied in a singsong tenor, finishing up with some scented oils that left the otherwise unruly mane of red smooth and silky.
There was a flicker of the Diluc he knew so well in the dismissive grumble.
Kaeya couldn't help but smile with a little bit of pride again, relieved, “Come on, let’s go sit and watch the sunrise. I'll wrap your knuckles."
He had half expected Diluc to put up a fuss now that some of their usual self was surfacing, but something in the proud frame remained vulnerable enough to stay close. Settled on a small porch swing at the front of the manor, the two of them rocked back and forth with the effortless flex of an ankle. Which one of them was at fault was anyone's guess as he held Diluc's hand in his lap, curling the medical gauze around the cracked skin and swollen joints. With a touch of Cryo, he tried to soothe the aches and pains, noting one hand was significantly more damaged than the other—a faded ring of scars embedded deep into the skin where something round once sat on the back.
He knew, but he didn't ask. He would wait for the day Diluc wanted to tell him willingly.
As Kaeya worked up the tense muscle of their wrist, the calloused fingers slid into his own, taking his hand and pausing it. Almost a second later, his peripheral vision burned with red as Diluc's weight settled onto his shoulder.
Relaxing, he leaned into it, a wry smile on his face as he understood the feeling of just being tired. Every heavy breath fanned his shoulder but not a word was spoken.
"We're going to be okay Diluc. I've got you."
Quietly, Diluc only asked a question. "What is your favorite song?"
"Hm?"
"The violin. What is your favorite song?"
Kaeya took a moment to think. "Weingut Morgenröte, probably."
"I'll play it for you someday."
Kaeya looked down at the mass of red taking up his entire shoulder, relaxing so his cheek rested on it and enjoying the scent of flowers and rain. "I'd like that."
Diluc closed his eyes as he did, quietly deciding that even if neither of them wanted to be in this world—they were both glad the other was as the sunrise cast it into a golden hue and made way for the rest of the spectrum.
Time heals all wounds, they say.
And time has moved forward once again.
One day at a time.