Chapter Text
Something’s wrong with Kaeya.
Jean’s not sure what tips her off. Kaeya comes into her office that morning with his paperwork the same way he always does, all smiles and joking complaints about how he never wants to see a report ever again. His appearance is the same, his voice is the same…but there’s a feeling Jean can’t quite shake.
“Kaeya,” she calls, just as he’s about to turn and leave. “Is everything alright?”
There.
Kaeya’s eye widens, for a millisecond too long. Anyone else would have missed it, would have been distracted by the charm of his returning smirk that’s both his greatest weapon and strongest defense. But Jean knows better. Jean has known him for far too long.
Something is wrong.
“Ah, that’s our Acting Grand Master, as considerate as always,” Kaeya says, recovering as smoothly and as quickly as Jean predicted he would. “I’m in perfectly good health. But I thank you for your concern.”
Jean bites her lip. The nagging feeling won’t go away, but…what can she do? Is he unwell? No, he doesn’t show any signs of sickness…although, considering this is Kaeya, that doesn’t mean much. With the way Kaeya expertly weaves layers of deception around himself as naturally as breathing, Jean has never been able to fully read him, even when they were kids. No, there was only ever one person who could…
“If something’s wrong…” she begins, haltingly, not quite sure of herself but forging onwards anyway. “You’ll tell me, right?”
Kaeya’s expression goes perfectly blank. Another tell. It’s rare for him to slip up twice. Jean’s about to speak again, to insist, when he cracks a half-smile she can only describe as bittersweet.
“Surely it would be more worthwhile for someone with time as valuable as yours to spend it on things that can actually be fixed, right?”
Jean frowns, puzzling over his cryptic statement.
Before she can respond, Kaeya has already vanished.
---
Days pass. Jean feels like she’s going insane.
Every time she sees Kaeya, whether it’s within the Knights of Favonius Headquarters or out in the city or even mid-combat, that same feeling refuses to stop nagging at her. Yet no matter how closely she looks…he gives nothing away. He charms, he smirks, he moves with a confidence and grace only he could ever pull off. He’s the same as always.
It’s frustrating, is what it is. She even tries to wait for moments where he thinks he’s alone, to see if he may reveal anything, but he never does. As if he believes someone is always watching. Or…as if nothing’s actually wrong in the first place?
Speaking to others yields no results. She asks around, as covertly as she can lest Kaeya catch wind, to see if anyone has seen something she hasn’t. But every single time, she learns nothing new.
“Kaeya?” Amber says, when Jean catches her after she returns from an expedition with him. She huffs. “He’s as chatty as ever. Why do you ask? Did he give you trouble? I can go fetch him if you want!”
“He turned in his last checked out book yesterday,” Lisa hums, flipping through her registry. “Nothing overdue from him. We’re due for tea later this afternoon. You’re welcome to join us, darling.”
“Kaeya is the best!” Klee lights up. “He’s been giving me lots of presents! Oh! Oh! Look! Over there! A lizard!”
(Jean’s…not too sure why she decided to ask Klee.)
There’s nothing wrong. Nobody has spotted anything amiss. Mondstadt still views its Cavalry Captain the same way it always has. So…surely, if there’s no evidence, Jean must have been overthinking, right?
But then…why won’t the nagging feeling go away?
Jean sighs, resting her head in her hands, paperwork forgotten on her desk. She can’t even concentrate. Because no matter how much her rational side tries to convince her that everything is fine, and to get back to work, all she can think about is their conversation, all those days ago. His consecutive slip-ups. His bittersweet smile. His strange words.
“Surely it would be more worthwhile for someone with time as valuable as yours to spend it on things that can actually be fixed, right?”
If there’s even a one-percent chance that there’s something wrong with one of her people…no, with one of her friends, she won’t be able to move on. Not without doing everything in her power to at least try to fix it.
Perhaps that will be her downfall one day. Grand Master Varka once told her it’s both her greatest strength and fatal flaw. But she can’t help it. It’s just who she is.
Alright. She rolls her shoulders back, shaking her hands out, as she wills herself to refocus. What’s the next step?
Talking to Kaeya directly is a no-go. She never mastered the art of getting Kaeya to talk, even as his superior, and she doubts she’ll learn it anytime soon.
Talking to anyone else also won’t be of much use. It’s almost a skill, how Kaeya is able to keep everyone he interacts with at arm’s length, close enough for them to see him as friendly but never close enough for them to truly see him. To see what lies at the heart of the man who has long since shielded it from the rest of the world for good.
If anything, Jean is the closest friend he has, so if even she hasn’t been able to get anything from him, she doubts others would have much better luck. There was once someone closer to him than she ever was, but…
Is he…really my only option?
She drums her fingers on the surface of her desk anxiously, just as there’s a knock at her door.
“Come in,” she calls, straightening up.
The door opens, then closes behind the visitor, who holds her gaze steadily, unwaveringly, with the focus of a hawk. There is silence, for a brief moment, as the two stare each other down, silence except for the sound of the breeze flowing in through her open window.
This is her last chance to back out. To drop this crazy idea, this last resort, that in the end may not even work. Is she really going to ask this from him?
She takes a deep breath. Steels her resolve.
Then she smiles.
“Thank you for coming to meet with me, Master Diluc.”
---
It’s a busy night at the Angel’s Share.
The warm light from the lanterns and overhead chandelier dance in the merriment of the people present, as jovial laughter and slurred conversation ring within the tavern. The sun has long since set, so it’s only darkness pinpricked by starlight that shows from the windows. The door opens, bringing in a new customer, and from outside Diluc can hear Patton’s booming voice calling out tonight’s sales to the streets of Mondstadt.
Diluc frowns, his eyes doing a sweep over the tavern once more as he mixes a drink. Six-Fingered José is at the door, strumming his lyre, welcoming the customer who just walked in with a smile. Cyrus and Jack are at their usual table, easy to spot in the crowd with their signature red and green Adventurer’s Guild uniforms. He thinks he spots Quinn and Nimrod and other Angel’s Share regulars among the sea of faces as well.
All of his regulars are here. Except for one.
His frown only deepens, even after he hands off the drink and starts mixing another. The one time he’s actually trying to find Kaeya, and he’s not even here, even when it’s only an hour til closing time. How annoying. Well, at least Jean can’t say he didn’t try.
He finishes making the drink, adjusting his gloves as he’s gifted with a short break in mixing, with no other drink orders coming his way. The noise of the tavern fades as his mind drifts to a few hours in the past.
“Watch over him at Angel’s Share,” Jean had said. “Just for tonight. If you don’t notice anything amiss, then I swear I will not bother you about this ever again.”
Diluc scoffed. “I don’t bartend tonight. Charles does.”
“Please, Master Diluc.” There was a strange tightness to her voice. It was unlike her, to be so…nervous. “I…I just want to make sure he’s alright. Please. Tell me there’s a part of you that still cares about him.”
Maybe Diluc should have gotten angry. Maybe he should have snapped at her, and stormed out of her office right then and there. Because why should he care? Kaeya doesn’t deserve it. Not after everything that happened the night Diluc’s father died. Kaeya lost every right to ever be considered a part of Diluc’s family again.
That’s how he should feel. And yet…
Diluc lowers his eyes, where the imperfections in the wooden countertop are the only things filling his vision. There’s a painful ache deep within him, an emptiness, one that longs for what once was. An emptiness that once held a love reserved for who he had called a brother, that was washed away in the icy rain the night of their duel. It’s an ache he has learned to ignore, has gotten good at ignoring, but Jean’s request has stirred something unusual within him. Something that makes the ache especially prominent tonight.
In the relentless torrents of time, in the whirlwind of the busy night that surrounds him…Diluc is standing still.
“Mora for your thoughts?”
There’s a flash of blue in the corner of his eye. Diluc knows, even before looking up, who he’s going to see before him.
“To what does Angel’s Share owe the pleasure of seeing Master Diluc himself behind the counter tonight?” Kaeya slides onto a stool, and Diluc catches a whiff of calla lilies from his movement. “It’s not like you to grace us with your presence so soon after your last shift here.”
Trust Kaeya to notice such things.
“What’ll it be, Sir Kaeya?” Diluc asks evenly. Stiffly.
“One Death After Noon, please.” A handful of Mora is slid across the counter.
Diluc accepts it, not bothering to count it out, and grabs a new glass. It only takes a minute before he’s putting the now-filled glass in front of Kaeya.
“My thanks.”
Diluc nods, but doesn’t turn away just yet. Because now he knows something is up.
Death After Noon is a simple cocktail, and one Diluc has mixed countless times. It never takes him long to make. But even so, Kaeya is always sure to fill the short time it does take for Diluc to mix it with jabs and sly remarks crafted specifically to get under Diluc’s skin. The times he doesn’t are the times where Kaeya is swept away by drinking buddies, or can’t afford to wait around because he has company with him that he’s trying to squeeze intel out of.
But he never just…waits silently. He’s always one to contribute to the din of the tavern rather than let it drown him out. He never sits still, not for long, especially not when in Angel’s Share. For him to be quiet like this…isn’t right.
Maybe Jean is on to something.
“Kaeya.”
Kaeya tilts his head.
But…what can Diluc say?
Even when Kaeya is sitting right before him, in reality it’s like he’s a million miles away. There’s a wide bottomless ravine that separates them, one that Diluc has no idea how to navigate. And neither of them are able to close the gap.
Sometimes Diluc finds himself wondering how Kaeya feels. But perhaps, just as Kaeya lost the right to warrant Diluc’s worries, Diluc also lost the right to worry about Kaeya.
Maybe this is how things were always meant to be.
“Never mind.”
The words are sour on Diluc’s tongue.
“If you need me — ” Kaeya stands, his glass in his hand. “I’ll be on the balcony.”
Kaeya leaves, and Diluc somehow feels colder in his absence.
The rest of the night passes without incident. Customers come and go. Drinks fly off the shelves. Diluc does his best to forget what happened. Jean did ask him to keep an eye on Kaeya, but he can’t exactly leave his station. Did Kaeya know, somehow? Is that why he’s on the balcony?
It’s strange, thinking of Kaeya this much. This actively. Usually he’s trying to avoid having Kaeya in his head. It’s…it’s always been much easier that way, than to linger on the hurt.
Archons. Times like these are when Diluc finds himself wishing he liked the taste of wine.
Conversations dwindle down to murmurs, as the hour winds to an end and people either walk or stagger out (he swears he sees Quinn being dragged out, but, well, that’s not really a new sight), dwindle until there’s only silence. Until Diluc is the only person left in the bar.
“I’m heading out, Master Diluc!” Diluc looks up to the sound of the door opening and Patton’s voice. “Ah — do you need any help cleaning up?”
“I’m alright.” Diluc pauses in wiping down the countertop to give Patton a curt nod. “The staff will finish up tomorrow morning. But thank you.”
“Are you sure? No stragglers you need me to get while you finish up here?”
“Ah…”
Come to think of it…is Kaeya still on the balcony?
Diluc hesitates. He could let Patton take care of it. He could do what he’s done all these years, steering clear of Kaeya whenever possible, allowing the ravine between them to continue to expand. He could leave right now, and pretend this night never happened, and tell Jean that everything is fine.
Tell me there’s a part of you that still cares about him.
His heart pangs.
Goddammit.
“I’ll…take care of everything,” Diluc hears himself say. “Have a good night, Patton.”
“Thank you, Master Diluc! Same to you!”
The door closes.
It’s with caution that Diluc climbs the stairs, his footsteps slow and quiet until they come to a halt outside the balcony door. He rests a hand on the doorknob, rests it there for so long that the coolness of the doorknob seeps through the leather of his gloves.
Then he twists the knob, and steps out into open air.
Kaeya stands there, hands on top of the balcony railing, as he looks out at the crimson roofs and navy skies. The stars are reflected in his eye, his pupil becoming just another star of many. In the tranquil of the night, despite his stature and normally larger than life presence, Kaeya looks…small. He looks at the stars not like he’s spectating them, but rather…like he yearns to join them.
“Master Diluc.” Kaeya turns to face him. His entire expression closes off, and Diluc loses all the insight he’d just managed to glean. “Here for some fresh air?”
“We’ve closed,” Diluc says. It comes out more brusque than he’d intended. “Did you lose track of time?”
“Did I? My apologies.”
No flowery language. No teasing. And, when Diluc looks at the drink resting on the floor near Kaeya…it’s still completely full.
“Would you…like to stay out here longer?”
Kaeya blinks. His eye flickers back to the night sky. Surprise gives way to softness. “…Just for a moment.”
“…Alright.”
Silence settles over them, as endless as the depths of the ravine between them. Diluc realizes with a start that this is the first time in years that they’ve had a conversation. A private one. Just the two of them, sharing each other’s space, with no other company except the wind. The last time they had been alone together…
Rain. Steel clanging against steel. Blood soaking into the earth. Flames soaring forth, ready to engulf Kaeya in his entirety, before clashing with bright Cryo and dissolving into wind.
Diluc’s Vision feels heavy on his belt.
This is wrong, isn’t it? They shouldn’t be here. Diluc shouldn’t be here. Pretending that the two are in any way okay. Not after that night.
But…Diluc makes no move to leave. And Kaeya makes no move to force him.
It’s Kaeya that breaks the silence first, his voice carried by the gentle night breeze.
“Do you remember…when we were younger?” His eye is fixated on the skies. “We’d sneak out onto the rooftop to look at the stars. Just like this.”
The ache within Diluc threatens to eat him alive.
“You always pretended you were an expert on the constellations.” A smile tugs at the corner of Kaeya’s lips. “When really, the only one you knew was your own. So you’d make them up.”
“…I didn’t realize you remembered this much from back then.”
“You said something similar on the Archipelago. Do you really think so little of me?”
“Can you blame me?”
Diluc regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.
“…No.” Kaeya’s voice is barely above a whisper now. “I suppose I can’t.”
The bottomless maw of the ravine seems darker than ever, darker than the night sky itself. A terrifying, inescapable thing, as deep as his own despair.
“I’ll get out of your way.” Kaeya picks up his drink and downs it all in one go, fingers curled tightly around the glass. “I can leave this on the counter. Ah — actually, I happen to have something else for you, too.”
Diluc can’t help the apprehension that forms within him when he hears that. With Kaeya, a statement like that could mean anything from an eyesore of a vase to a literal Vision. Diluc would know. Kaeya has given him both.
Kaeya cracks an amused smile. “Relax. No vase this time. Here.”
He places something down on the railing, and every single one of Diluc’s nerves alight in alarm.
“Kaeya — this — ”
There, on the wood surface, in its two-winged frame, glowing a soft blue light…is Kaeya’s Vision.
“Hold on to it, would you?” In Diluc’s ears, Kaeya sounds like he’s speaking through cotton. “I thought giving it to you directly would mean the highest chance of you agreeing to keep it, instead of my usual…you know.”
What’s going on? Diluc’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, of questions, of barely strung-together words. What — why — Vision — Kaeya —
“You don’t have to look after it or anything. You can lock it away in an empty cupboard for all I care. Surely that’s not too much to ask, right?”
“What’s this about, Kaeya.” Diluc’s mouth is dry. He refuses to look at the Vision, only looking at Kaeya, searching his gaze desperately. “What — what are you doing?”
“Nothing for you to worry about, I can assure you.” Kaeya’s smirk comes off as more brittle than self-assured. “I imagine you never worry about me regardless.”
“Kaeya — ”
The world feels like it’s crumbling under his feet. The ravine only seems to mock him.
“Sorry for losing track of time. I’ll be heading out. Really, don’t worry about maintaining it, I won’t be asking it back from you anyway — ”
“Kaeya!”
For the first time, Diluc reaches out, reaches his arm across the ravine, reaches to bridge this horrible gap between them, as his hand clutches Kaeya’s wrist just as Kaeya is turning away.
Kaeya goes completely still.
“What’s going on?” Diluc can’t stop his voice from shaking. He tries to make sense of it all, tries to figure out why Kaeya would be leaving his Vision behind, but fear scrambles his mind into an unintelligible mess, and the only thought that consumes him is that he’s going to lose someone again — “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Ha.” Kaeya won’t look at him. “That’s quite convincing. For a moment I thought you cared.”
“I’ll take your Vision if you tell me the full story.” Diluc’s grip slackens, then releases Kaeya completely, aware of how tense Kaeya had felt under his touch. “Just — please.”
Please.
It’s been a while since Diluc’s said that to Kaeya, too.
Kaeya locks Diluc’s gaze in place with his own, a million emotions warring in his eye, emotions he can’t quite blink away in time. His hand twitches, uncertain, not quite reaching out from his side of the ravine, but not turning away from Diluc’s either. Diluc thinks back to a time where there was nothing hidden, where they knew each other like the backs of their hands, where Diluc’s secrets were Kaeya’s and Kaeya’s secrets were his.
Well. Except for one.
“Have you ever encountered Abyssal curses, Diluc?”
He frowns. “What?”
“They’re quite unforgiving.” Kaeya is fiddling with the cuff of his glove, for some reason. “Very straightforward in meaning, though. It takes quite a bit of power to wield without backfiring on the caster. Which is why most of them are along the lines of corruption. After all, why be afraid of the curse backfiring and corrupting you, when corruption is all you’ve ever known?”
There’s a dark look in Kaeya’s eye at that. But he continues.
“The rarer ones…” His fingers fumble for a split second. “Are the ones that mark the victim for death.”
He removes his glove, revealing his wrist. Diluc pales.
Blackness, pure and rippling, stains Kaeya’s skin, forming a strange symbol on the inside of his wrist. It’s messy and haphazard, as if the mark was burned there instead of neatly written or stamped, and is unfamiliar to Diluc’s eyes, but sends chills down his spine just by looking at it. The edges of the symbol aren’t clean cut — they seem to spread outwards through Kaeya’s veins, painting the background of the symbol with dark ugly webs.
“Fascinating, no?” Kaeya murmurs. He puts the glove back on, then flexes his hand gingerly. “I’d only ever heard stories of them before. Victims usually don’t last more than two weeks.”
“How…” Diluc falters, stricken. The sight of the symbol refuses to fade from his mind’s eye. He has to choke out the next few words. “How long?”
“How long ago was it cast, you mean?” Kaeya purses his lips. “I believe this is the fourth day.”
The fourth day.
Two weeks.
Diluc’s heart plummets down the ravine.
Kaeya only has ten days left to live.