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Before anything else here are the TEAMS & RACERS (7 Regions)
1. MONDSTADT — Team “Gale Knights”
Speed & wind-tuned machines
main racers:
-Jean Gunnhildr – Calm, precise driver
-Rosaria – Risky genius, does impossible overtakes
2. LIYUE — Team “Rex Mecanica”
Most technologically advanced cars
main racers:
-Xiao – The ghost overtaker, silent and deadly
-Ningguang– Strategic racer, sponsors half the league
3. INAZUMA — Team “Eternal Shogunate”
Fastest acceleration, strict discipline
main racers:
-Ayaka – Gracefully lethal on the track
-Itto – Terrifyingly fast but reckless
4. SUMERU — Team “Mindscape Velocity”
AI-optimized machines
Main racers:
-Cyno– Rigid focus and lightning reaction time
-Tighnari– Analyst-driver, reads the track like nature
5. FONTAINE — Team “Fontaine Duelist”
Elegance & precision; Clorinde’s team
Main racers:
-Clorinde – Queen of control under pressure
-Lynette – Quiet, tactical, best partner in the league
6. NATLAN — Team “Pyro Howlers”
Aggressive, flame-themed hypercars
main racers:
-Xilonen – Hotheaded but consistent
-Mavuika– Drifts like she plays her guitar—loud and fiery
7. SNEZHNAYA — Team “Frostbite Dominion”
Cold, brutal efficiency
Main racers:
-Childe – Loves dangerous maneuvers
-Sandrone – Drives like she has nothing to lose
///
The Fontaine Autodrome was alive.
Banners in blue and ivory hung from every barrier, engines screamed in warm-up, and thousands of fans chanted one name with the fever of worship:
“CLO-RIN-DE! CLO-RIN-DE! Where is she?!”
Camera drones hovered across the pit lane, zooming in on the empty Fontainian garage stall. Mechanics exchanged nervous glances. Commentators scrambled to fill airtime. Hashtags began trending in real-time:
#WhereIsTheDuelist
#VanishingChampion
#SheWasHereFiveMinutesAgo???
Every race. Every single race. The same chaos. And beside the chaos was the calmest person in Fontaine: Lynette.
She leaned against the side of the Duelist car, arms crossed, expression unreadable as ever. Only her tail flicked once—betraying amusement.
A reporter jogged to her, panting.
“Miss Lynette! Is your teammate missing again? Is she sick? Is she—”
“She’s preparing mentally,” Lynette said smoothly, cutting him off. “She always does this. No need to panic.”
The reporter blinked. “Preparing… mentally? By vanishing?”
“It works for her,” Lynette said, shrugging. “She always shows up.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Lynette tilted her head, ears twitching.
“Maybe.” Then she walked away, letting the reporter implode.
Because yes—Lynette knew exactly where Clorinde was. And it had nothing to do with mental preparation.
A private service elevator in the VIP tower hummed as it stopped at the rooftop garden. No cameras. No staff. Just Fontaine wind and the soft hum of distant race engines.
Clorinde stepped out—helmet under her arm, racing suit half-zipped, heart already beating faster than her car’s idle RPM.
And waiting for her beneath the shade of a vine-covered archway was
Navia Caspar.
Model. Influencer. Beloved sunshine of Fontaine’s internet. And Clorinde’s secret girlfriend of eleven months.
Navia wore a long cream coat, golden curls pinned loosely, face half-hidden under sunglasses, though the soft smile she gave Clorinde could’ve outshined the entire Grand Prix.
“You’re five minutes late,” Navia teased.
“You scheduled this,” Clorinde replied, voice falling soft in ways it never did for cameras. “If anyone’s responsible, it’s you.”
Navia stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair off Clorinde’s forehead.
“You look stressed.”
“I’m fine,” Clorinde murmured. A lie. And Navia knew it instantly.
“Clorinde,” Navia whispered, thumb grazing her cheek. “You disappear every race just to see me for five minutes. Five minutes to remember why you drive. And every time you look more tired.”
Clorinde swallowed, jaw tense.
“I don’t mind. It’s worth it.”
“But it hurts you.” Navia cupped both sides of her face. “It hurts me too.”
It was true. This secrecy. The hiding.
The headlines calling Clorinde “arrogant” or “antisocial” because she ran every time the race ended.
For her.
Navia rested her forehead against Clorinde’s. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
Clorinde’s voice cracked, barely audible:
“If they find out about us… the media won’t leave you alone.”
“And?” Navia smiled, leaning in. “Then I’ll just walk next to you. Let them take pictures. Let them scream.”
Clorinde’s breath hitched. “Navia—”
“You have a race to win first.” Navia kissed her cheek, soft and warm. “Come back to me safely.”
Clorinde lifted Navia’s hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Always.”
Back in the pit lane, noise exploded as Clorinde strode down the stairs and appeared in full racing gear.
Cameras went feral. Mechanics scrambled.
Fans cheered like a tidal wave.
“There she is!”
“CLO-RINDE! CLO-RINDE!!”
“THE PHANTOM RETURNS!!”
A few reporters sprinted to intercept her.
“Clorinde! Why are you always missing before races?”
“Is it a superstition?”
“Are you avoiding the press?”
Clorinde walked straight through them, cold and unreadable. Lynette stood waiting beside the car, sipping tea from a paper cup.
“You cut it close,” Lynette murmured, monotone. “I was taking my time,” Clorinde replied, sliding into her seat.
Lynette smirked faintly—barely noticeable.
“How is Navia?” Clorinde froze for half a second. “Fine.”
“You two argue?” Lynette asked, tapping some adjustments on Clorinde’s steering module.
“No.”
Clorinde’s voice softened involuntarily.
“We… talked.”
Lynette nodded, satisfied. “Good. You drive better when she’s happy.”
Clorinde shot her a look.
“Don’t say that in front of anyone.”
“I won’t.” Lynette shrugged. “Would ruin your reputation.”
“My reputation?”
“As the terrifying, emotionless Duelist of Fontaine.”
Clorinde groaned. “Why is that even my nickname?”
“Because they don’t see you melting into a puddle with Navia every time you sneak out,” Lynette answered.
“LYNETTE—”
“Engines on,” Lynette said, completely unfazed. “You’re starting P3. Xiao’s on pole. Ningguang is P2. Please don’t crash trying to impress your girlfriend.”
Clorinde’s ears turned red inside her helmet. “I never— I do not— I’m not—”
Lynette held up her tea cup like a toast.
“Go get her a podium, lover girl.”
Clorinde wanted to crawl into the asphalt.
In the starting grid, Clorinde sat in her Fontaine Duelist hypercar, the engine rumbling beneath her like a living beast.
To her left: Ningguang, elegant and poised.
To her right: Xiao, eyes sharp, glove tapping his steering wheel with hungry intent.
Over team radio, Lynette’s voice crackled through.
“Remember: steady throttle through Sector 2. Don’t let Xiao bait you into a corner trap.”
“I know,” Clorinde answered, lowering her visor. “I can handle him.”
“And Clorinde?”
“Yes?”
“Navia is watching.”
Clorinde’s pulse spiked.
The race lights lit up.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five—
LIGHTS OUT.
Clorinde launched forward perfectly, slipping behind Xiao’s tail like a shadow.
Every movement precise. Every shift clean.
Ningguang attempted a block—Clorinde outmaneuvered her with a duelist’s grace, slicing up the inside at Turn 4.
The crowd roared.
“Clorinde takes P2!”
“She’s hunting Xiao already!”
“Fontaine Duelist showing why she’s the cleanest driver in the league!”
Lap after lap, Clorinde closed the gap.
Xiao was fast.
Too fast.
But Clorinde wasn’t chasing him only for points.
She was chasing the promise she whispered against Navia’s cheek moments before she left the rooftop:
“I’ll come back.”
On the final lap, she saw it—a tiny opening at the apex of Turn 11.
Lynette’s voice warned “Don’t do it. It’s too risky—Clorinde?!”
Too late.
She dove.
A perfect, razor-thin overtake. Clean. Effortless. Duelist-like.
The stadium went feral.
“CLO-RINDE LEADS!”
“WHAT A MOVE!!”
“FONTAAAAIIINEEEEE!!”
Clorinde crossed the finish line P1.
As soon as the car rolled into the paddock, the circus began.
“Clorinde! Interview!”
“Clorinde, one question please!”
“Clorinde, where do you go after every race?!”
She turned her back. Fans screamed. Press surged. Security nearly lost their minds.
Lynette stepped between Clorinde and the cameras like a silent bodyguard.
“Apologies,” she told the reporters, sipping her tea. “She has somewhere she needs to be.”
“Where?!”
“Is she running again?!”
“CLO-RINDE!!”
But Clorinde was already slipping into a side hallway, helmet still on, strides purposeful.
Because Navia was waiting. Always waiting.
Always in some shadowed corner, hidden room, or quiet rooftop where the world couldn’t reach them.
And Clorinde , the Champion, Duelist, the phantom? She lived for that moment. The moment she could finally breathe again.
///
The world had grown used to the chaos.
Every race weekend, without fail, fans would flood into the stands chanting Clorinde’s name, only for her to evaporate the moment the cameras blinked in her direction. It became a joke, then a meme, then a full pandemic of speculation.
“Where does the Duelist go?”
“Is she allergic to interviews?”
“Is she a ghost?”
“Is she an NPC after the race ends??”
There were livestreams dedicated to tracking her movements. Fan cams slowed down footage to see where she slipped off.
A conspiracy thread on Snezhnayan forums insisted she was part of a secret Fontaine royal guard.
And through all that noise, only one person watched silently from the sidelines, soft smile hidden behind her sunglasses
Navia Caspar.
Model. Influencer. Sunshine with heels.
And the only person Clorinde ever ran to.
After the Fontaine Grand Prix, Clorinde moved like a shadow through the private corridor leading up to the back elevators. Her boots echoed faintly on the polished floor as she unlocked the maintenance stairwell. Only a tiny number of people knew this path existed.
And at the bottom sat Navia on a step, hair tied messily, wearing Clorinde’s oversized team jacket like a dress.
“You’re late,” Navia said without looking up from her phone.
Clorinde huffed, closing the staircase door behind her. “There were… people.”
“There are always people.” Navia smirked as she held out her hand.
“And there’s always you, running away from them all to come find me.”
Clorinde took her hand instantly.
The moment their fingers laced, the tension melted off her shoulders like hot water.
“You drove beautifully,” Navia murmured, pulling Clorinde into her arms. “Though you scared me with that Turn 11 overtake. Lynette sounded ready to murder you.”
“Lynette exaggerates,” Clorinde muttered, burying her face against Navia’s neck. “It was calculated.”
Navia stroked her hair, smiling knowingly. “It was you showing off. For me.”
Clorinde didn’t respond. Which meant Navia was right.
Later, once Clorinde changed out of her fireproof suit, the two escaped through a service gate into a rented black sedan waiting behind the stadium. It was their ritual: drive into some quiet edge of the city, eat whatever Navia picked, talk or not talk. Clorinde didn’t care. It was being with Navia that grounded her.
Tonight’s hideout was a dim café by the river, closed to the public. The owner adored Navia and practically handed her the spare key.
Clorinde sat on the counter, legs dangling, watching Navia make tea like she owned the place.
“You know,” Navia said, passing her a cup, “this disappearing act is becoming… stressful.”
Clorinde froze mid-sip.
“I don’t like lying to your fans,” Navia continued softly. “Or watching you shoulder the blame for everything.”
Clorinde’s brows furrowed. “My fans care about racing, not my personal life.”
Navia laughed, light and warm. “Clorinde. They care about everything. They adore you. Some of them cry when you ignore interviews.”
Clorinde went pale. “They cry?”
“Yes, you monster.” Navia tapped her forehead. “People love you. They want to see you. Hear you. Know you.”
“I don’t want them to know you,” Clorinde corrected quietly. “They’ll attack you. They’ll dig into your life.”
Navia stepped between her knees, lifting her chin. “And what if I’m not scared?”
Clorinde blinked. “Navia—”
“What if I want to be seen next to you?”
Something fluttered violently in Clorinde’s chest—something she didn’t have the words for.
Navia placed her hands on Clorinde’s cheeks. “You always protect me. Let me protect you too.”
Clorinde closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. “I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”
“And I don’t want you to hide forever,” Navia whispered. “We meet in stairwells, rooftops, backdoors. We run like fugitives.”
She swallowed. “I want to walk beside you. In daylight.”
Clorinde stiffened. “The teams—”
“They’ll be fine,” Navia said, rolling her eyes. “Half of them already know.”
Clorinde jerked back. “Who?!”
“Lynette.”
“That’s not half.”
“Rosaria,” Navia continued.
“Rosaria knows? How?!”
“She saw you leave my dressing room at the Mondstadt event.”
Clorinde slapped a hand over her face. “Archons…”
“She didn’t care. She said, and I quote, ‘Good for you, sunshine girl.’”
Clorinde groaned louder.
“And?” Navia added sweetly. “Ayaka.”
That made Clorinde sit up straight.
“Ayaka knows?!”
“She figured it out. She said your driving gets ‘brighter’ when I’m at the track.”
Clorinde wanted to crawl into the river.
“So yes,” Navia said, poking her chest. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”
Clorinde muttered something in Fontainean that could only be translated as mortified agony.
Navia softened. “Look at me.”
Clorinde slowly lifted her gaze.
“We can keep hiding,” Navia said. “We can keep running. Or… we can make a deal.”
Clorinde blinked. “A deal?”
Navia took her hands, threading their fingers together.
“If you win the next Liyue Grand Prix…
I’ll let you tell the world that we’re dating.”
The café fell silent. Even the river outside seemed to pause.
Clorinde stared, breath trapped somewhere between her ribs.
“Navia…”
“You don’t have to say yes,” Navia whispered. “But I know you. You push yourself too hard. You always bury your wants under duty.” Her voice softened.
“Let this be something you win for yourself. For us.”
Clorinde’s heart hammered. loud, heavy, aching with emotion she never let anyone else see.
Slowly, she lifted Navia’s hands to her lips and kissed them.
“I’ll win,” she whispered. “For you.”
Navia smiled so brightly Clorinde nearly forgot how to breathe.
“Then it’s a deal.”
And she kissed Clorinde slow, sure, sealing the promise neither of them would break.
///
The Liyue Grand Prix wasn’t just another race.
It was the race.
The circuit was infamous with it’s sharp angles lined with stone lanterns, brutally technical sectors, unpredictable weather that could shift from shining gold to mountain fog in minutes. No driver took Liyue lightly.
But Fontaine? Fontaine had something else riding on it.
Clorinde had a promise. A deal sealed with Navia’s lips and bright eyes.
If she won… If she conquered Liyue… Their world could finally stop hiding. That truth burned inside her from the moment she stepped off the plane.
Their hotel overlooked the harbor, but Clorinde couldn’t enjoy the view. She stood on the balcony at dawn, gaze fixed on the far-off mountains, USB drive in hand race data Lynette compiled for her.
She replayed sector simulations over and over. Her brain knew each curve, each apex, each blind turn. But knowing and executing were never the same.
A soft knock echoed on the sliding door.
“Clorinde?” Lynette stepped outside, cat-ears twitching with the early breeze. “You didn’t sleep.”
Clorinde didn’t deny it. “There’s too much to prepare.”
“Not this again,” Lynette sighed, hands slipping into her pockets. “You always do this with Liyue. Every year you torture yourself.”
“This year matters.”
“It always matters.”
Clorinde turned, meeting Lynette’s calm but sharp eyes. “Not like this. If I win… everything changes.”
Lynette blinked, then hummed. “Ah. Navia.”
Clorinde’s cheeks warmed. “Yes.”
Lynette leaned against the balcony rail. “Well, if you crash from sleep deprivation, Navia will cry, and then I’ll have to deal with her. So please, drive safely.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Thank you. Now come on. Practice starts in two hours.”
The paddock was alive the moment they arrived.
Team banners waved, engines howled, and drivers from every region mingled around the hospitality suites. Off-track, they felt less like enemies and more like a noisy, dysfunctional extended family.
“Clorinde!”
Ayaka waved from the Eternal Shogunate’s tent, holding two cups of matcha.
“You look tense. Drink with me before practice?”
Clorinde accepted the cup with a soft nod. “Thank you.”
Itto immediately slung an arm over Lynette’s shoulders.
“LYNNY! I found a stray cat behind the garage—wanna see??”
Lynette blinked. “That is a fox.”
“It’s a CAT.”
“It’s a fox, Itto.”
Jean and Tighnari were discussing helmet modifications. Xilonen was trying—and failing—to stop Mavuika from attaching literal flame decals onto her car. Rosaria was asleep in a lawn chair. Itto was livestreaming himself provoking Childe.
Typical paddock chaos.
Ayaka smiled warmly at Clorinde over their steaming cups. “You’ll do well. I know you will.”
Clorinde nodded, touched despite herself. “Your confidence is appreciated.”
“I look forward to racing you today,” Ayaka added, bowing slightly.
Clorinde dipped her head. “As do I.”
But she noticed something—a rustle of footsteps, a soft familiar presence.
Navia.
The moment Clorinde sensed her, her entire chest softened.
Navia peeked around the corner of the Fontaine garage, wearing a sunhat too large for her head and sunglasses that definitely did not hide her identity.
Clorinde choked. “Navia—what are you—”
“I missed you,” Navia said simply, stepping into her space like she wasn’t the most recognizable influencer in Fontaine. “And I wanted to check your engine before practice.”
Lynette raised a brow. “You don’t know anything about engines.”
“I know the vibe,” Navia insisted. “This one feels… powerful.”
Clorinde coughed. Hard.
Ayaka giggled behind her sleeve.
Navia brushed invisible dust off Clorinde’s shoulder. “You look tired. Did you sleep?”
“No,” Clorinde admitted. “I was reviewing track data.”
Navia’s lips pressed into a line. “You’ll crash.”
“I won’t.”
Navia stepped closer, voice softening. “Clorinde, I can’t lose you on track.”
Clorinde exhaled, tension unraveling. “You won’t.”
Navia rose on her toes and kissed her cheek. Quick, quiet, hidden from wandering journalists but visible to the entire paddock community.
Itto whistled.
Rosaria cracked one eye open.
Ayaka giggled again.
Childe yelled, “GET A ROOM!”
Clorinde burned red.
“Navia,” she hissed. “Everyone can see—”
“They all know already,” Navia said cheerfully. “Except the fans and the press. And maybe Cyno. He’s too focused to notice.”
Cyno walked by holding a sandwich.
“I noticed weeks ago,” he said flatly.
Clorinde nearly died.
When practice began, Clorinde snapped into racing mode.
Lynette fed her data over the radio. “Turn 7’s grip is lower today. Adjust your entry speed. Xiao’s running long stints. Ningguang is testing early pit windows.”
“Understood.”
Clorinde maneuvered through the track like a dancer clean, controlled, duelist-like. Each turn tightened her focus. Each straightened out her heartbeat.
But as she hit the third sector, her rear tire snagged slightly.
“Clorinde.” Lynette’s voice sharpened. “You’re pushing too hard.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re overdriving.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re going to crash.”
“I SAID—”
Her car jolted, skidding across the rumble strip. She caught it—barely. Saved the spin by the skin of her teeth.
Lynette hissed. “Get back to the garage. Now.”
When Clorinde returned, the entire team was waiting. Mechanics, strategists, even Jean and Tighnari who had run to check on her.
But it was Navia who reached her first.
“Clorinde!” She grabbed her by the shoulders, eyes wide with fear. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m—”
“You almost spun out,” Navia said, voice trembling. “I saw the feed. Your rear nearly clipped the wall.”
Clorinde looked away. Shame crawled up her spine.
“I can’t lose you,” Navia whispered, pressing her forehead against Clorinde’s chest. “Not because you’re trying to win something for me.”
Clorinde’s hands shook as she held Navia’s waist.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Navia lifted her face, eyes wet. “Win because you love racing. Win because you can. Not because you think you must.”
Clorinde’s heart clenched.
“Navia…”
Navia gently touched her cheek. “I don’t want to be a burden. I want to be your peace.”
Clorinde closed her eyes.
“You are.”
Navia melted into her arms.
And behind them, Lynette crossed her arms and nodded. “Good. Now can everyone stop being dramatic so we can fix the damn car?”
Even Rosaria clapped once.
Practice resumed later in the afternoon, and Clorinde drove differently—more grounded, more controlled, more herself.
Not for pressure.
Not for fear.
For love.
///
The sky over Liyue Harbor shimmered gold at sunrise, mist curling through the mountain peaks like a living dragon. By noon, the track would roar to life. But for now, it was quiet, eerily so.
Clorinde arrived earlier than everyone else, helmet tucked under her arm, boots clicking sharply against the stone tiles of the paddock walkway. The calm before the storm always unsettled her, but today…
Today she wasn’t scared.
Today she was ready.
Her car sat gleaming under the garage lights—Fontaine blue detailing, polished carbon fiber wings, the silver crest of the Aquabus on its nose. The mechanics swarmed quietly around it in final checks.
Lynette stood beside it with her tablet, expression neutral but tail flicking with contained excitement.
“You’re early,” she said.
“So are you,” Clorinde replied.
“I don’t sleep before a big race.”
“Neither do I.”
“Navia told me to make sure you do.”
Clorinde blinked. “…She what?”
“She said—and I quote—‘If Clorinde crashes because she didn’t sleep, I’ll personally throw her into the Fontaine river.’”
Clorinde groaned. “Navia exaggerates.”
Lynette tilted her head. “Is she wrong?”
Clorinde didn’t answer.
Qualifying soon began, and the world awoke.
Grandstands filled fast. Fans waving flags from every nation screamed themselves hoarse as announcers hyped up the event. The Liyue GP was famous for drawing millions, and the energy showed.
“Drivers to your cars!” called the race marshals.
Clorinde stepped into her cockpit, the familiar snug embrace of seat and belts grounding her instantly.
Heart steady.
Hands calm.
Eyes sharp.
Lynette’s voice came through her radio. “Okay, Clorinde. Let’s get you a clean lap. Track temperature is rising but sector two is still slippery. Watch the hairpin.”
“Copy.”
Other drivers formed around her. Ayaka in her icy-blue Shogunate suit. Xiao adjusting his gloves, sharp-eyed. Ningguang adjusting her earpiece with elegant confidence.
And across the paddock, Navia stood behind the barrier, holding a small banner she’d definitely painted herself.
“GO CLOVER!” with a little doodle of her.
Clorinde nearly choked laughing inside her helmet.
Qualifying released them onto the track one by one.
Clorinde’s warm-up lap was smooth. Tires heating evenly. Brakes responding perfectly. Engine purring like a beast waiting for command.
Then
“Push,” Lynette said. “This is your flying lap.”
Clorinde inhaled.
And she unleashed.
The world blurred. Wind howled. Her car cut through the mountain curves like a blade.
Apex.
Exit.
Acceleration.
The hairpin tightened she braked late, trusting her instincts.
Lynette’s voice: “Perfect. Keep going.”
Last sector.
Uphill curve
Blind crest.
She nailed it.
The lap time flashed on screen P1.
The Fontaine garage erupted.
Navia jumped, pumping her fists. “THAT’S MY GIRLFR— I MEAN DRIVER!! THAT’S MY DRIVER!!”
Clorinde smiled.
But as more drivers finished, Ayaka slid into P2, Xiao into P3, and Ningguang into P4.
Front row earned.
Pole secured.
Lynette tapped her helmet as she rolled into the garage. “Good girl.”
Clorinde muttered, “Don’t start.”
Lynette smirked. “You like it.”
Clorinde said nothing.
//
Race day.
The sun blazed over Liyue. Heat shimmered over the asphalt. Engines lined up on the grid, rumbling like caged monsters.
Clorinde sat in her car, visor down, pulse steady.
Ayaka’s voice came through the grid intercom from the next slot.
“Clorinde, try not to leave me behind too quickly.”
Clorinde replied quietly, “I’ll try.”
Xiao snorted behind them. “Both of you are slow.”
Childe yelled from the sixth row, “SAY THAT AGAIN WHEN I OVERTAKE YOU ALL!”
“Drivers,” Lynette chimed into Clorinde’s private channel, “ignore the children. Focus.”
Clorinde chuckled. “…Copy.”
She looked sideways.
Navia stood behind the fence again, hands clasped to her chest.
Their eyes met.
Navia mouthed:
Drive safe. Come back to me.
Clorinde’s heart clenched.
She nodded once.
The signals lit up.
Red.
Red.
Red.
Red—
Engines screamed.
Lynette whispered, “Remember—race your race.”
The lights went out.
GO.
Clorinde launched off the line with perfect reaction, tires gripping beautifully. Ayaka stayed close. Xiao surged forward. Ningguang threatened the outside.
Turn 1 approached fast
Clorinde braked late, cutting cleanly across the apex.
Ayaka followed. Xiao challenged.
Childe dove dangerously from behind.
Lynette: “Defend inside! Defend inside!”
Clorinde swerved—blocked Childe. Xiao backed off. Ningguang repositioned.
The crowd exploded with noise.
Lap 3: Clorinde held the lead.
Lap 6: Ayaka stayed glued to her rear wing.
Lap 10: Xiao closed in aggressively.
“He’s pushing,” Lynette warned. “Don’t let him bait you.”
“I won’t.”
But then
Sector 2.
A shadow swept across her mirrors.
Xiao.
He attempted an overtake.
Clorinde countered.
He tried again.
She defended.
Their tires kissed for a second—just enough to spike her adrenaline.
Lynette: “Careful! Don’t fight too hard this early!”
Clorinde: “I know.”
Navia, watching from the monitor feed, covered her mouth in fear.
Childe shouted from four cars back, “FIGHT HARDER!! I WANNA JOIN IN!!”
Sandrone (over his radio): “Shut up.”
Then came lap 17.
A gust of mountain wind swept across the track, unexpected.
Clorinde’s rear slipped.
“Careful!” Lynette barked.
Clorinde corrected—barely.
But Ayaka saw her opening.
She overtook cleanly on the straight.
The crowd roared.
Clorinde dropped to P2.
Her chest tightened—not in panic, but in spark.
“Do you want that position back?” Lynette asked.
Clorinde’s voice smoothed into a calm she only felt when truly alive.
“Yes.”
“Then go get it.”
Clorinde pushed.
Lap by lap.
Turn by turn.
She reeled Ayaka in.
Two laps left.
One lap left.
Final sector
She dove inside at the last sweeping corner.
Ayaka held.
Clorinde held harder.
They were wheel-to-wheel, inches apart, engines screaming.
Navia screamed louder in the stands.
The finish line approached—
Clorinde shifted, perfect and clean.
Her car surged forward.
She crossed the line
P1.
Victory.
Fontaine’s garage erupted.
Navia burst into tears.
And Lynette whispered through static and pride
“Welcome back, champion.”
///
The moment Clorinde crossed the finish line, the world detonated into noise.
The commentators were yelling.
Fans were sobbing.
Childe was cursing in three languages.
Sandrone was dragging him away by the sleeve.
Ayaka and Xiao were shaking their heads, half annoyed and half impressed.
And Navia
Navia was already sprinting.
She didn’t care about cameras. She didn’t care about security. She didn’t care about the crowd yelling her name. She just ran, heels abandoned somewhere in the stands, barefoot on hot pavement as sunlight caught in her golden hair.
Clorinde pulled into the braking zone, hands trembling around the wheel. Not from exhaustion
From relief.
From winning.
From knowing what came next.
She climbed out of her car, lifted her helmet, and only had half a second to breathe before—
“CLORI—!”
Navia barreled into her.
Clorinde caught her instantly, arms wrapping tight around her waist as Navia clung to her like she’d drown without the contact.
“You did it,” Navia whispered against her neck. Her voice cracked. “You… you actually did it.”
Clorinde closed her eyes, letting the warmth of Navia’s embrace melt through her. “I told you I would.”
“You scared me five times.”
“I scared myself twice.”
“You swerved at Turn 13—”
“You’re lecturing me already?”
Navia pulled back, eyes wet but blazing with pride. “You deserved that win. Every bit of it.”
Before Clorinde could respond, Lynette appeared with a towel and a deadpan stare.
“You two are disgusting,” she said flatly.
Clorinde coughed. “Sorry.”
Navia didn’t even look embarrassed. “Let us be romantic, Lyn.”
“I’ll allow it for five minutes,” Lynette sighed. “Then we need to do podium prep.”
Navia saluted. “Aye aye, co-driver.”
“No,” Lynette corrected, “I’m not your co-driver. I am your only barrier against your terrible decisions.”
Navia smiled sweetly. “You love me.”
Lynette groaned and walked away.
Clorinde leaned close to Navia’s ear. “She does.”
Navia smirked. “Of course she does. I’m delightful.”
Clorinde nodded. “You are.”
Podium ceremony.
The three drivers—Clorinde, Ayaka, Xiao—stood in their positions as the Liyue anthem played. Confetti rained down. Fans screamed so loud the mountains echoed.
When the cameras panned to Clorinde, she lifted her trophy with calm dignity.
When they panned to Navia—
Navia waved the “GO CLOVER!! <3” banner so violently Lynette had to physically restrain her.
The champagne spraying began.
Xiao hit Ayaka.
Ayaka hit Xiao.
Childe tried to climb the podium until security dragged him away yelling, “LET ME SPRAY THEM TOO!!”
Clorinde opened her bottle—
Then aimed it at Navia.
Navia shrieked. “CLO— YOU MENACE—”
Lynette shoved her behind a barrier.
“You’re NOT getting her soaked! We just did her hair!”
Clorinde laughed harder than she had in a year.
After the ceremony, reporters swarmed.
“Clorinde! How does it feel to beat Liyue on their home track?”
“Was that last lap planned?”
“You seem… unusually emotional today!”
She kept her usual calm. “It was a good race. My rivals pushed me. I’m grateful.”
But then a reporter asked
“Rumors say the reason you disappear after every race is because you’re secretly dating someone. Care to comment?”
Dead silence.
Navia froze behind the barrier. Lynette’s head whipped toward Clorinde with alarm.
The Fontaine team collectively held their breath.
Clorinde answered simply:
“Yes.”
The entire paddock exploded.
A reporter nearly dropped his mic. “Y–yes?! You’re confirming it? That you’re—”
“I’m dating someone,” Clorinde said, voice steady. “I have been for a year.”
News networks probably crashed at that very moment.
“Who is she?!”
“Is it a racer?”
“Is it someone on your team?”
“Is it someone from Fontaine?”
Clorinde’s gaze slid to Navia.
Navia’s hand flew to her chest.
She shook her head subtly. You don’t have to yet.
Clorinde shook hers back. I want to.
And calmly, into every microphone in Teyvat, she said:
“Her name is Navia Caspar.”
The screaming that followed could have shattered glass.
Navia covered her mouth—but she was smiling so brightly it was blinding.
Reporters erupted:
“THE MODEL?!”
“NAVIA CASPAR?!”
“THE NAVIA?!”
“WHEN DID THIS START?!”
“HOW DID YOU TWO MEET?!”
“ARE YOU LIVING TOGETHER?!”
Navia looked seconds from passing out.
Clorinde raised a hand. “One question at a time.”
But she was smiling just a little. A soft curve at the edges of her lips only Navia usually saw.
Navia mouthed: I love you.
Clorinde mouthed back: I know.
Lynette whispered behind her, “Well. There goes your quiet life.”
Clorinde nodded. “Worth it.”
The moment Clorinde finished interviews, Navia sprinted to her again—ignoring cameras, ignoring the chaos—and threw her arms around her neck.
Clorinde lifted her off the ground.
“You really did it,” Navia whispered, voice muffled as she buried her face into Clorinde’s shoulder. “You… told the world about us.”
“You asked me to win,” Clorinde replied. “You didn’t specify how big the victory should be.”
Navia laughed—half choked, half giddy.
“I love you,” she breathed.
Clorinde held her tighter. “I love you too.”
Cameras captured everything.
Fans cheered
Some fainted.
Social networks combusted.
And the world had just witnessed the birth of its most chaotic, iconic, unstoppable power couple.
///
Fontaine’s headquarters had seen many disasters.
Engine explosions.
Windtide outages.
The time Neuvillette tried to give a motivational speech and accidentally summoned a rainstorm indoors.
Focalors stepping down.
Furina stepping up.
Furina stepping trying down.
But nothing—nothing—prepared them for:
CLORINDE JUST SOFT-LAUNCHED NAVIA CASPAR ON LIVE INTERNATIONAL BROADCAST.
The moment the news broke, the Fontaine Duelist headquarters descended into pandemonium.
Phones rang nonstop.
The media office cried.
The marketing team prayed
The lawyers hyperventilated.
And in the middle of it all
“BY THE SEVEN—WHY WOULD SHE DO THIS TO ME?!” Furina screamed, pacing so wildly her heels clicked like thunderclaps.
Her blue hair frizzed in stress static.
Her official coat was half buttoned.
She was gripping three phones at once.
“This is—this is—THIS IS A CRISIS! A SCANDAL! A TSUNAMI OF PUBLICITY! In 24 hours our stock price will either double or implode!”
A new phone rang.
Furina answered without checking.
“WHAT?! WHAT NOW?! Yes, yes, I saw the confession! Of course I saw it! I saw it in real time while I was drinking tea and nearly choked on my macaron!”
The entire Fontaine PR department stared at her like watching a deity crumble.
“NO, I DO NOT KNOW IF THEY ARE ENGAGED—WHY WOULD THEY BE ENGAGED, SHE JUST CONFESSED TEN MINUTES AGO—”
Another phone buzzed.
She juggled them. “HELLO—WHAT—NO WE ARE NOT SELLING COUPLE MERCH YET—WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘YET’? STOP TAKING PREORDERS—STOP—STOP—”
Someone in PR fainted.
Another phone vibrated again.
She screamed into the ceiling.
“I NEED TO MEDITATE—”
That was when a calm, gloved hand rested on her shoulder.
Everything in the room froze.
Arlecchino.
The Knave.
Harbinger.
And currently, Furina’s very patient wife.
Her expression neutral. Her presence terrifying. Her voice low and steady.
“My love,” she said gently, “breathe.”
Furina whirled around, eyes glassy. “Arle—Arlecchino, my sweet, my anchor, my favorite warlord—everything is falling APART. I am holding Fontaine’s reputation together with—METAPHORICAL CHEWING GUM.”
Arlecchino took the phones one by one out of her hands and placed them on a table.
“Stop panicking,” Arlecchino said, brushing Furina’s cheek with her thumb. “You’re beautiful when you’re calm.”
Furina melted instantly, cheeks pink. “I—I AM NOT BEAUTIFUL WHEN CALM—”
“Yes you are.”
The entire PR department pretended not to eavesdrop.
Arlecchino placed her forehead against Furina’s. “Now. Tell me what happened.”
Furina inhaled sharply, clinging to Arlecchino’s coat like her life depended on it.
“Clorinde confessed,” she whispered dramatically. “In front of the entire world.”
Arlecchino blinked once. “Yes. And?”
“And? AND?!” Furina trembled. “We are NOT PREPARED! The PR kit isn’t ready! The social media announcement drafts are unfinished! I told them to save the ‘power couple’ templates but they didn’t listen—WE NEED TO CRAFT A STATEMENT—”
Arlecchino leaned close.
“I already wrote one.”
Furina froze.
“You… did?” Her voice cracked like a porcelain teacup.
Arlecchino pulled out a folded paper from her coat.
“Yes. It reads ‘Fontaine Duelist fully supports Clorinde’s announcement. We wish her and Navia Caspar happiness, safety, and stable tire temperatures.’”
The PR department stared.
“Short. Clean,” Arlecchino said calmly. “Non-controversial. Professional.”
Furina’s eyes sparkled. “Arlecchino… Arlecchino you absolute genius.”
Arlecchino smirked. “I know.”
Furina launched herself at her wife, hugging her tightly.
“THANK YOU—THANK YOU—THANK YOU—”
Arlecchino held her, stroking her back, grounding her like a lightning rod.
“Now,” she murmured, “stop spiraling. Your teams need you calm.”
Furina sniffled. “Okay…”
Arlecchino kissed her forehead. “Good girl.”
Furina nearly combusted. The PR department silently exploded from secondhand embarrassment.
Meanwhile, in Liyue
Clorinde was trying to eat one slice of celebratory almond tofu.
Trying.
Navia had climbed onto her lap like a koala.
Lynette was deadpan eating noodles beside them. Ayaka was congratulating them.
Xiao was pretending not to look amused.
Childe was banned from entering the building. Rosaria was guarding the door with a cigarette.
And Clorinde’s phone buzzed with a new message.
FURINA: YOU.
WE NEED TO TALK.
PR MEETING TOMORROW.
PLEASE BRING NAVIA.
AND NO MORE SURPRISES FOR 48 HOURS.
Clorinde sighed. Navia peeked over her shoulder. “Is she mad?”
Clorinde shrugged. “She’s always like this.”
Navia giggled. “Fair.”
Fontaine wasn’t the only region losing its mind.
The moment Clorinde announced she was dating Navia, every single racing team across Teyvat detonated in their own special flavor of chaos.
And, of course, the group chat revived.
The cross-regional racer chat, titled:
🏎️💥 Teyvat Track Demons (DO NOT LEAK OR DIE) 💥🏎️
[LIVE CHAT]
Ayaka: Congratulations Clorinde! That last corner was beautiful.
Xiao: You nearly clipped me. Again.
Childe: CLORINDE YOU GODDESS, TEACH ME HOW TO BAG A MODEL.
Rosaria: Step one: Don’t be you.
Lyney: Aww, Clover found her sunshine 💙
Hu Tao: YOU’RE DATING NAVIA?! CAN SHE COLLAB WITH OUR FUNERAL PARLOR MERCH? 😈
Nilou: Hu Tao no.
Ayaka: Truly, I am happy for you.
Yoimiya: SAME!! NAVIA IS SO PRETTY IN PERSON—
Ayaka: Yoimiya.
Yoimiya: oh
Xiao: ?
Childe: ?????
Hu Tao: 👀👀👀👀👀👀
Lyney: Is Ayaka soft-launching Yoimiya right now??
Ayaka: N-no! I simply meant she is…present. And supportive. As friends do.
Yoimiya: baby it’s fine
Ayaka: YOIMIYA PLEASE—
Hu Tao: OH WE GOT TWO COUPLES???
Rosaria: I’m going to need the wine.
Childe: AYAKA X YOIMIYA SUPREMACY LET’S GOOOOO
Xiao: This chat is unbearable.
Lynette: I’m dating Kirara.
The chat paused. Like the entire server froze.
Yoimiya: LYNETTE WHAT
Childe: THE CAT GIRL???
Xiao: Since when?
Nilou: THAT’S ADORABLE WHAT
Lyney: LYN?? HELLO??
Hu Tao: GIRL YOU SAID THAT LIKE “btw I’m going to the store, do we need onions”
Lynette: You didn’t ask earlier.
Rosaria: Fair
Clorinde: …
Navia: CLO WHY AREN’T YOU SAYING ANYTHING
Clorinde: …I didn’t know.
Lynette: You didn’t ask earlier
Clorinde: Lynette.
Lynette: What?
Lyney: MY SISTER IS DATING KIRARA AND I FOUND OUT BECAUSE OF A GROUP CHAT??
Lynette: You didn’t—
Lyney: DON’T YOU DARE SAY IT
Lynette: —ask.
Lyney: I’M GOING TO SCREAM
Navia slid into the chat.
Navia: I LOVE THIS TEAM SO MUCH I’M ACTUALLY CRYING
Childe: NAVIA CASPAR IS IN THE CHAT?!
Navia: yes hi hello
Hu Tao: NAVIA PLEASE JOIN MY FUNERAL PARLOR PHOTO SHOOT—
Navia: no
Rosaria: smart
Meanwhile, in the real world
Ayaka was redder than a pyro vision.
She was sitting at a café table with Yoimiya beside her, both drinking bubble tea.
Ayaka grabbed Yoimiya’s arm. “YOIMIYA, PEOPLE WILL KNOW!”
Yoimiya leaned her head on Ayaka’s shoulder. “Baby, they know.”
“A-all of them?!”
“You literally called me ‘my love’ when I gave you your helmet in the pit earlier.”
Ayaka covered her entire face with both hands. “I THOUGHT I WHISPERED—”
“You did not.”
Ayaka melted into the table.
Yoimiya kissed her cheek, giggling.
“It’s okay. Let them know.”
Ayaka peeked up. “You’re not embarrassed?”
“Me? Embarrassed? I post us on my burner account all the time.”
“YOU WHAT—”
Back in the Fontaine tent
Clorinde stared blankly at Lynette.
“You’re dating Kirara.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Clorinde pinched the bridge of her nose. “Lynette. We are partners.”
“Exactly. We race. We don’t gossip.”
Navia wrapped an arm around Clorinde’s shoulders. “Aww come on, Clo. It’s cute. Kirara brings her little delivery bag on dates, doesn’t she?”
Lynette nodded. “She carries snacks.”
Navia squealed. “ADORABLE.”
Clorinde muttered, “I feel betrayed.”
Lynette blinked. “Do you want to meet her?”
Clorinde straightened, expression suddenly serious.
“Yes. I need to determine if she’s worthy.”
Navia burst out laughing.
“Oh GREAT. Clorinde ‘Interrogate-your-girlfriend’ Fontaine is back.”
Lynette sighed. “Kirara is going to be terrified.”
“She should be,” Clorinde said quietly.
Navia elbowed her. “CLO!”
And across regions, reactions continued:
Sumeru Team:
Nilou cried.
Tighnari fainted.
Cyno wrote a pun about speed dating.
Inazuma Team:
Ayaka hid behind Yoimiya.
Thoma yelled in delight.
Itto asked if confessions were trendy now.
Mondstadt Team:
Jean approved.
Diluc grunted.
Kaeya placed bets.
Natlan Team:
Xbalanque started designing couple-themed racing suits.
Snezhnaya Team:
Arlecchino was sharpening a knife in case anyone harassed Navia.
Furina screamed in nine group chats simultaneously. (Shes not from the team but her wife is. So this counts)
And in the chaos of it all?
Teyvat just realized:
Clorinde x Navia was only the first domino.
Every region had their own love stories brewing.
And the racing world was about to get a LOT more complicated.
Fontaine Duelist headquarters had never seen anything like this.
Furina paced the massive PR war room, heels clacking like a metronome of panic. Papers fluttered as assistants scurried to keep up with the avalanche of fan mail, media inquiries, and social media explosions. Every screen in the room was filled with feeds, tags, and rumors.
And every rumor was a relationship.
Furina’s hands were gripping her blue hair. “HOW MANY OF THEM ARE DATING EACH OTHER?! HOW MANY COUPLES ARE IN THIS RACING SEASON?!”
Arlecchino appeared behind her, calm as ever, one hand resting on Furina’s shoulder. “Breathe.”
“I can’t breathe,” Furina shrieked. “Clorinde and Navia—fine! That was manageable. But THEN Lynette drops Kirara like it’s a casual shopping trip. Ayaka and Yoimiya. Jean and Lisa? Ningguang and Beidou?! Tighnari and Cyno?! ITTO AND GOROU?! SARA AND KOKOMI?! SANDRONE AND COLUMBINA?!”
Arlecchino raised an eyebrow. “Yes. All of that.”
Furina spun around, pointing at every screen. “AND THEY’RE LEAKING IT IN THE CROSS-REGIONAL CHAT, AND NOW FANS ARE SENDING GIFS OF EVERY ‘SOFT LAUNCH’ MOMENT, AND—”
Arlecchino held up a finger. “Stop. Stop everything. One heartbeat at a time.”
Furina exhaled shakily, collapsing into a chair. “I can’t manage this. I’m not a god—I’m the Director of Fontaine! I’m supposed to be in control!”
Arlecchino knelt beside her. “You are in control. You just need perspective.”
Furina stared, wide-eyed. “Perspective?! THE ENTIRE RACING WORLD IS COLLAPSING INTO A ROM-COM CARNAGE AND I AM THE ONLY PERSON WITH A SUIT AND A BOSS TITLE AND NO SLEEP!”
Arlecchino smirked, leaning close. “Which is why I am here.”
With one deft motion, she took Furina’s phone, silenced all notifications, and handed her a warm cup of tea. “Drink. Breathe. Remember—you are not responsible for everyone’s love life.”
Furina gripped the cup like it was a lifeline. “But—what about PR?! The announcements?! The fan hysteria? The stock price?!”
Arlecchino tapped her lips. “Let’s be honest. Clorinde and Navia already broke the internet. Lynette didn’t help. Ayaka had to soft-launch Yoimiya. The other teams? Rumors or not, people are watching. You can’t control it all. You can only control how you react.”
Furina slumped further, taking a shaky sip. “I feel… strangely calm.”
“Exactly,” Arlecchino said, smiling. “Good. Now, let’s make some order.”
Across the room, the PR team was scrambling to craft statements for all the teams.
Furina’s instructions:
1. Clorinde x Navia —approved statement drafted.
2. Lynette x Kirara —approved statement drafted.
3. Ayaka x Yoimiya —approve soft launch clarification.
4. Jean x Lisa —mark as rumored; issue neutral statement.
5. Ningguang x Beidou —rumor confirmation pending; emphasize professionalism.
6. Tighnari x Cyno —rumor; highlight focus on racing skills.
7. Itto x Gorou —rumor; playful acknowledgment if questioned.
8. Sara x Kokomi —rumor; emphasize camaraderie.
9. Sandrone x Columbina —rumor; keep mysterious, maintain brand intrigue.
Furina blinked at the list. “I feel like I’m managing an entire dating reality show instead of a racing league.”
Arlecchino draped an arm around her shoulders. “Exactly. And that’s why I’m grounding you.”
Furina groaned. “Grounding doesn’t fix media chaos!”
Arlecchino smirked. “No. But grounding fixes you. Tea, breath, and a reminder: you are alive, sane(ish), and my very beautiful wife.”
Furina melted into the hug. “You’re too good to me.”
“I know,” Arlecchino said, smirking. “Now. Let’s face this chaos together.”
Meanwhile, in Liyue, Fontaine, Inazuma, and Sumeru, the racing teams were very much aware that the PR war room had gone nuclear.
Chats buzzed:
Jean: We may need an emergency “romance policy.”
Lisa: Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Let them live.
Ayaka: Everyone saw it in the group chat
Yoimiya: Yep.
Lynette: Told you.
Clorinde: …
And somewhere, Itto was trying to figure out if Gorou would be upset that everyone knew about them before he could tell the world.
Chaos? Yes.
Fun? Absolutely.
PR department sanity? Gone.
But love?
Everywhere.
///
The racing world had officially descended into beautiful chaos.
After the Liyue Grand Prix, and the PR fallout, the teams had a weekend off before the next circuit. Fontaine Duelist headquarters turned into a mix of celebration, debriefing, and absolutely chaotic friendship.
Clorinde and Navia had escaped the media for the first time in weeks, holding hands as they wandered through Fontaine’s canals. Navia, as usual, had grabbed Clorinde’s hand and refused to let go.
“You know,” Navia whispered, leaning into her shoulder, “I kind of like that the world finally knows. I like shouting it from rooftops.”
Clorinde laughed softly, the sound like wind chimes over water. “You’re insane.”
“You married my chaos,” Navia said. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.”
Clorinde squeezed her hand. “Maybe I do.”
Inside the Fontaine garage, Lynette and Kirara were quietly teasing each other, sharing snacks and giggling.
Lynette flicked Kirara’s nose. “You think you can beat me in the next practice lap?”
Kirara smirked, leaning against her car. “I’ll let you win… maybe.”
Lynette rolled her eyes but laughed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Kirara’s ear. Their easy companionship radiated warmth across the room.
Meanwhile, in Inazuma, Ayaka and Yoimiya were quietly celebrating their soft launch.
Yoimiya had decorated the small shared lounge with paper lanterns and fireworks-themed confetti, smiling as Ayaka looked slightly flustered but undeniably happy.
“You really went all out,” Ayaka said, adjusting her sleeve.
“Of course! You’re my favorite person,” Yoimiya replied, wrapping an arm around her waist.
Ayaka’s blush rivaled the sunrise over Inazuma City. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me for it,” Yoimiya said, grinning.
Other teams had their own playful chaos.
Jean and Lisa were quietly bickering over who got the last slice of Mondstadt apple pie, both secretly enjoying the domesticity
Ningguang and Beidou shared a quiet moment on Liyue Harbor, laughing at an inside joke about balance sheets and cannonballs.
Tighnari and Cyno sparred lightly with go-karts in Sumeru’s practice track, playful teasing in between precise maneuvers
Itto and Gorou challenged each other in a friendly drag race, laughing uproariously when Itto’s car almost toppled a stack of cones.
Sara and Kokomi worked together on a strategy board, sipping tea and exchanging teasing remarks.
Sandrone and Columbina were a mystery even to the teams, their quiet glances and subtle smirks fueling endless speculation.
Back in Fontaine, Furina had finally calmed, thanks to Arlecchino grounding her earlier. She watched the teams interacting through the glass of the war room, still in awe.
“They’re all… happy,” she whispered.
Arlecchino draped an arm around her shoulders, smiling. “Yes. And they’re racing, loving, and living. You’ve done your job.”
Furina leaned against her wife, smiling softly. “Even if I almost had a heart attack.”
Arlecchino kissed her temple. “Exactly why I’m here. To keep you alive for all the chaos.”
As the sun set over Teyvat, the racers gathered on the docks, sharing laughs, snacks, and playful jabs. The lights of Liyue Harbor reflected on the water, Fontaine’s canals glimmered, and fireworks from Yoimiya’s decorations twinkled faintly in the distance.
Clorinde held Navia’s hand, Lynette leaned against Kirara, Ayaka and Yoimiya whispered to each other, and even the rumored couples shared subtle moments of warmth.
For a few hours, there were no press releases, no chaos, no fan speculations—just friends, lovers, and teammates.
The racing world could wait.
Here, they were simply happy.
And sometimes, that was enough.