Chapter Text
Fate certainly had a sense of humor.
“Shit.” You heaved a sigh as you glanced at the time on your phone, then turned your frustrated expression to the doorknob in front of you.
Mondays truly had no business being so miserable.
“It’s bad enough that I’m already late,” you muttered bitterly as you turned your keys clockwise (since counterclockwise had not opened the door). “It’s worse that I can’t open the damn door!” You yanked the key out of the lock and flipped it over before trying to jam it back inside. This time, however, you could not even manage to insert the key; it simply did not fit. “What the hell?” you grumbled. Growing increasingly frustrated with each failed attempt, you finally pulled the key up to your face and scrutinized it carefully. Did you bend the damned thing at some point?
That’s when embarrassment rushed through your body, filling you from your head to your toes with an almost unbearable heat.
It was the wrong key.
“I really need to get keycaps to differentiate my apartment key and the station key,” you conceded under your breath as you finally opened the door leading to the back of the police station. You dreaded coming into the station, but the sheriff insisted that you make a personal appearance every Monday so that you could update the force on any police-sponsored investigations you were making, as well as drop off and pick up any documents that you needed for ongoing cases. Truthfully, you suspected that the sheriff just wanted to ensure you weren’t wasting the police’s precious funds.
As if they didn’t have enough to spare.
You were already in a particularly foul mood after fumbling around with the keys for far too long, but getting absolutely no response to your chipper, “Hello!” as you entered left a sour taste in your mouth. You were painfully accustomed to this treatment, though--you only existed when you made some sort of breakthrough. “Hello!” you called again, and you couldn’t prevent the irritation from seeping into your tone. Again, no response. Muttering some choice words, you began to peek into different offices and try to find the sheriff. If you could just dump off your bundle of documents, you could hurry out the door.
Not soon enough, in your opinion, but if you wanted to have any funding for your investigations, then you needed to follow the rules. None of the police’s assignments to date had excited you all that much, unfortunately, but you were able to use the excess funds to pursue some passion projects. One in particular had captured your whole-hearted attention, and any spare waking moment you had, you tried to devote to discovering more and more information about it. Your fascination rested on the border of obsession, but you preferred to think of it as “intellectual curiosity.” Now, if you could somehow feel that same fire for the tasks you were assigned, you’d be living on cloud nine, high enough for Barbatos to be able to greet you himself.
And as you finally found where all of the cops were hiding, huddled around a table in the sheriff’s office, you began to wonder if the god of Mondstadt had in fact blessed you in some way.
“Good morning?” you offered, your third and final attempt to try and earn some sort of greeting. At least this explained why nobody had come to your aid while you were jostling the doorknob earlier.
Much as you expected, you didn’t get a response.
“Freedom… that’s referring to Mondstadt, right?”
“Of course, knucklehead. But what’s this part about going down to the north? That doesn’t make any damn sense.”
You raised an eyebrow as you overheard their bickering and squabbling, but as you began to hone in on bits and pieces of their conversation, you found your curiosity beginning to bubble inside of you. A mystery that they couldn’t solve? Would they realize that you, one of their hardest working detectives, were standing right there, or would they let their pride block their sensibility?
The next snippet you heard forced you to abandon your position of neutrality and leap into the conversation like a starving wolf who’d finally found prey to pounce upon.
“‘It’s a star’ is how it’s signed, but that’s not a name? That’s like an answer… if you head north, you’ll find the northern star, right?”
“ Tsaritsa. ”
All eyes in the room immediately shifted their focus from the table to you, after uttering that single word. A name that could send shivers down the spine of even the bravest soldiers, even if they would never dare to admit as much aloud.
“The hell are you going on ab--”
You pushed your way past the crowd to get a better view of the item on the table that had captured everyone’s attention. “A letter, huh?” you murmured, and you leaned forward to scrutinize its contents.
It was typed rather than handwritten, but the choice of font made you furrow your brow. “This doesn’t match the font from Liyue, yet…”
Yet the letter was unmistakably from the same source.
“ ‘Seekers of freedom who follow the whims of winds,
The time has come to discard such frivolous lives.
If you want to move forward and shed off your sins,
Only one path remains to save you from demise.
The gateway to the future lies deep underground,
But in dismal darkness hides the brightest of lights.
Allow yourselves to submit to darkness once found,
Knowing the Red Lady will save you from the night.
Follow her lead and head down below without fear,
For that is the way to find the true gem of the north.
If you choose to resist, then your end will be near;
The future shall be closed off to those without worth.
Encased in ice but glowing brighter than the sun.
When it comes to northern lights, there is only one.
- It’s a star’”
After finally reading the letter in its entirety, you blinked a couple of times. “Oh, Barbatos.” You chuckled softly and shook your head. “When did this arrive?”
“Just this morning,” one of the officers reported. “I found it in the mailbox when I arrived to open the station.”
“Are you positive it arrived this morning? Do you check the mail every day?” Your tone was getting a little more intense, earning you some nasty looks, but you didn’t have time to concern yourself with being tactful. Couldn’t they hear the urgency in your voice?
“O-of course,” he stammered. “It definitely arrived today.”
“Call the military now,” you ordered, and despite your bold demand, you winced as multiple voices began to rise in protest. “Or do you want to deal with a threat from the mafia all by yourselves?”
Much to your dismay, that only seemed to stoke the embers and set the entire room ablaze with frustration and passion.
“Do you know what the hell you’re talking about?”
“Don’t spout shit like that-- it isn’t funny.”
“Who do you think you are, anyway?”
The barrage of vehement questioning made your knees begin to shake, but you were 100% positive in your assessment of this letter. “I’d be happy to explain if you’d give me the courtesy, but--”
“Everyone quiet down.”
The booming voice of the sheriff managed to bring silence, and you couldn’t prevent a sigh of relief from escaping your lips. “We can’t discount the possibility. If you have some inkling that leads you to believe this could be from the mafia, detective, then I want to hear it.”
You straightened up and looked the sheriff directly in the eyes. “I know without a doubt that this came from the Tsaritsa. Her message is simple: Mondstadt is next on her hitlist.”
And just like that, you felt as if the floodgates had opened. All those hours of personal research, fueled by only your own curiosity, could finally be put to use. A switch had flipped inside of your brain, and now that your special interest was the topic of discussion, you began to babble a stream of words that you could only hope the police could follow.
Not that you would be able to slow yourself down to their pace even if they couldn’t.
“The mafia, or the Fatui, as they like to call themselves, is centered around their boss, the Tsaritsa. Her name has come up in multiple contexts-- sometimes it’s overheard among her goons, sometimes it’s written in their hideouts, sometimes it appears on letters such as these. Without a doubt, she’s the driving force. Records suggest the mafia has already infiltrated every other nation in Teyvat, just looking at news headlines. Why wouldn’t Mondstadt be next? And Barbatos is the god of freedom, so “seekers of freedom” must be referring to the citizens of Mondstadt.” You narrowed your eyes as you moved through each line of the text. “It sounds like she’s offering us a deal. The ‘gateway to the underground’ is a reference to the mafia, because they’re an underground organization--covert, secretive, sneaky. I’m not sure who this ‘Red Lady’ is, but perhaps she’s one of the mafia captains?” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know enough about the captains, just that the Tsaritsa doesn’t seem to do any work by herself. She sends everyone else to get their hands dirty on her behalf. And the last part is a threat, without a doubt. Submit to her will, or be destroyed. Follow this captain and willfully submit to the star of the north. The Fatui are based in Snezhnaya, so geographically, that makes sense. And as if it weren’t obvious enough,” you added with a bit of a sneer, relishing in the fact that you had everyone’s undivided attention after being treated like you didn’t exist mere minutes ago, “she signed her name. The Northern Star is the one constant in the sky, so ‘it’s a star’ is obviously a reference to that, but if you rearrange the letters? It can spell ‘Tsaritsa.’”
As you inhaled deeply after your spiel, you couldn’t help but find the silence somewhat satisfying. The letter’s intent was so painfully obvious to you, that for a moment you were worried that your hyperfixation had gone a little too far. “Any questions?” you asked at last, hoping to break the tension.
“Get Major General Gunnhildr on the phone right now. Send this detective to the military headquarters.”
“... and based on these findings, we should keep a close eye on the docks for the next couple of nights. We’re actually likely to find them if we do so, and I’d further suggest--”
“You sound awfully confident, detective.” The expression on the colonel’s face was difficult to read. Was he annoyed by your insolence, or was he impressed with your efficiency?
“Well,” you immediately shifted to being defensive, “based on the fact that we managed to foil the scheme closer to the front gates of Mondstadt when we caught them by the florist, I had a hunch that they’d shift to a completely different part of the city, because they’d be under the impression that we’d center our forces closer to the front gates, and I just acted on that hunch. It’s a shame we haven’t been able to catch any of them yet, but if you look at page 3 of my report, you can see my explanation of the clues that make me likely to believe that we could actually discern their location and bring them in for-- Colonel Kaeya, are you laughing at me?” You’d dared to look up from the fistful of papers in your hands and take a glance at his face, and his one eye was aglow with amusement and you could hear the low rumble of laughter in his throat that he was trying so hard to conceal.
“You’re really cute when you’re fired up.”
A scowl stretched across your lips and you had half a mind to smack the colonel with your report; if you hadn’t spent so much time on it, you probably would have done it. He wouldn’t have seen it coming from his blind side if you were fast enough.
As if he could read your mind, he commented rather loudly, “My reflexes are strongest on my blind side, because I’ve learned to compensate for that weakness. I would’ve had you on the ground faster than you could say, ‘Kaeya.’” His deep blue eye, which matched the shade of his sleek ponytail almost exactly, suddenly began to sparkle. “Although the thought of you shouting my name--”
That was the final straw for you, you decided as you lifted your arm to bat him on the side of the head with your 20-page report. “Your jokes get less funny by the day, colonel.”
He raised his hands defensively and let out another chuckle. “I deserved that one.”
“Yes, you did!” you agreed with a huff. “This is my fourth bust this month, and you’re giving me a hard time?” You couldn’t prevent your lower lip from protruding slightly into a pout. “Here I was, thinking there was something wrong with my reasoning. I… I just want to prove that I’m good enough.” Your voice trailed off towards the end, but Kaeya’s ears were particularly sensitive, so he was able to pick up on it.
“You’re doing a great job, rookie,” he reassured you, reaching out to pat the top of your head with a cheeky grin. “There, there. You know, you’ve even made a name for yourself among those criminals. Remember when we busted one of their hideouts two weeks ago? We found a note mentioning some sort of ‘Nemesis’ who’s been thwarting all of their recent plans. Not to mention the way that when we almost caught one, he shouted that name in surprise. He looked rather disappointed to see the military instead.”
“That name also appears on my report,” you added. “I can’t ascertain from mere whispers and scraps of notes if they’ve deduced whether or not it’s one or multiple detectives who are responsible for their undoing, though.” You shrugged it off casually. “I don’t really care what the Fatui think of me.” Maybe the thought of them cowering in fear of you was slightly pleasing, but their opinions weren’t going to deter you from your goal of keeping Mondstadt safe.
“Okay, then, more importantly, you’ve lived up to the shiny badge that Jean has given you.”
You move to lift his hand off of your head with a roll of your eyes. “That’s Major General Jean,” you corrected him. “You should be more respectful to your superior… and to your subordinate, too!” you added as an afterthought. “If you don’t start treating me better, you may have to find yourself a new detective for this case.”
With a look so smug it made you want to smack him again, Kaeya raised an eyebrow at you. “Really, now? Your personal curiosity and passion for justice aren’t enough to keep you with our forces?”
You opened your mouth to retort, only to sheepishly close it a few moments later.
“Haha, gotcha, rookie.”
You had already devoted hours upon hours of your time to this subject out of sheer curiosity; now that you were actually being paid to investigate these Fatui scum, you constantly felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest with excitement.
And they were absolutely scum. The thought of anyone posing as a good, decent, respectable member of society during the day only to commit atrocities at night… it disgusted you, boiling your blood from head to toe. Disgusting excuses for human beings like these scoundrels should spend the rest of their lives behind bars, where they could no longer be a threat to innocent folks who were just trying to live in peace.
Mondstadt was the city of freedom, and you took that value to heart. You wanted each and every kind soul you met here to be free to pursue their desires and live free from fear. Nobody deserved to live with the sheer terror that you could only imagine--
“Hey, detective, how’s the pain today?”
“Hmm?” Kaeya’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts. As much as he was a flirt and a tease, when it came to certain subjects, he knew when to be sincere and sensitive. This was one of them. “Oh, surprisingly bearable today. Yesterday was really rough, actually,” you admitted with an awkward, half-hearted laugh. “Not enough to keep me bedridden, but enough to slow me down, which was beyond frustrating.” You shrugged. “Maybe they’re safe today,” you murmured under your breath.
The brief twinkle of sympathy in Kaeya’s good eye suggested he heard that last part, but he didn’t comment on it. “Good. Then I should treat you.”
“Treat me?”
“For all of your hard work, dear Nemesis of the Fatui.”
You’d only been working for the military for about a month--Major General Jean had insisted that the military take over the matter of the Fatui, and accordingly she had also officially endorsed you as a military detective to assist on the investigations. It was a much better working environment than the station, even if you did have to go to the military headquarters more frequently than your once-per-week hell at the station. But she was also rather accommodating of your physical limitations, so she would let you work from home whenever you needed.
But in that month, this was the first time that anyone had offered anything reminiscent of a reward in exchange for your efforts. “I’m not sure that I--”
“It’s my treat,” Kaeya insisted. “Come on. Let’s go get fucked up.”
“Wait, what?”
You didn’t even have the opportunity to ask any more questions before he took your report, placed it on some subordinate’s desk, and began to lead you out of HQ with a very eager grin on face.
“Leave. Now.”
That was not the reception you were expecting to hear from the bartender as you entered Angel’s Share tavern, and the intensity of his voice made you want to spin on your heel and dash out the door as fast as you could, but Kaeya’s reaction was just to laugh heartily and shake his head. “Come on, Diluc, don’t be like that. So cold.”
You dared to peek out from behind Kaeya to get a glimpse of the bartender--Diluc--and you were even more intimidated by his visage than by his voice. He was dressed in black from head to toe, and the scowl on his pale skin was illuminated by the ring of fiery red hair around his face. He was scrubbing the inside of a glass, but he was looking directly at Kaeya, his eyes trained on him with a sensitive caution. “Considering that I own this place, I do believe I can make the rules.”
“You’d kick out an innocent patron?”
“You aren’t the least bit--”
Kaeya gave you a bit of a nudge, and you stepped out from behind him self-consciously. Now Diluc’s burning red eyes turned onto you, and a shiver ran down your spine. Upon spotting you, though, a gentle sigh left the bartender-owner’s lips and he turned his attention down to the glass in his hands. “Do as you please,” he conceded at last.
Again wearing that mischievous smirk from earlier, Kaeya pulled out two stools from the bar and planted himself onto one. He patted the seat next to him, clearly inviting you to join him. “Angel’s Share is undoubtedly the best tavern in town,” he asserted, “but I don’t get to come here nearly as often as I would like. It’s my pleasure to bring a new coworker, Detective Y/N, here to enjoy a Friday night.” His face lit up when Diluc slid him one of his favorite mixed drinks across the counter, and he gave the bartender a thumbs up. Diluc either didn’t see it or chose to ignore it.
You sat down on the stool, a mix of hesitancy and curiosity swimming in your eyes. “So this is why you asked how I was feeling,” you muttered. “You wanted to know if I could handle any alcohol.” Kaeya nodded in confirmation, and with a soft chuckle, you informed him, “You know, I don’t really drink. Chronic pain and alcohol don’t really mix.” Nonetheless, you did appreciate the gesture. You… had never really been invited out to hang out with a coworker before, considering that most of your work was solo and that you spent far too many nights in your room than you would care to admit. “Thank you for trying to help me relax after a long week of work, though. That was really thoughtfu--”
Diluc spoke up at this point, having been quiet ever since the two of you sat down. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Y/N, but Colonel Kaeya here did not bring you to my tavern as an act of goodwill. He’s using you.”
Your eyes grew wide at the bold proclamation. “W-what?” You immediately turned to look at Kaeya, who hadn’t spoken a single word in his defense. He just continued to down his drink. “No, he said he was going to treat me…”
Diluc shook his head, causing his low ponytail of thick scarlet curls to sway back and forth. “He may be paying, but unfortunately, he is acting in his own self-interest.” Diluc’s stoic expression almost looked soft as he gave you a pitying look. “He needs someone to drag his drunk ass home, and the rest of his subordinates are tired of doing it. Plus, he knows I can’t kick him out if he brings a companion who is a genuine patron.” He sighed and poured Kaeya another glass, sliding it towards him without even glancing in the colonel’s direction.
“I’m a genuine patron though?” Kaeya cut in, narrowing his eye. “I’m literally buying alcohol?”
The redheaded bartender just turned to the stack of wine bottles behind him and began to reorganize them.
With an exceptionally dramatic sigh, Kaeya picked up his glass and began to head towards a table in the back of the tavern. One of the men at that table waved to him, and the colonel waved back. At least he had friends here… but where did that leave you, who didn’t know anyone and didn’t even drink?
You propped your elbows up on the table and rested your chin in your hands. What the hell were you supposed to do now? Maybe you should just head back to your apartment, although you would never hear the end of it from Kaeya if you left him here. Plus, there was the risk that Diluc would actually kick him out if you left, and you didn’t want to ruin his night.
Diluc must have picked up on your frustration, because he turned away from the bottles to give you a vaguely concerned look.
Resigning yourself to your fate, you looked up to meet his gaze. “Can I just have, like, a grape juice or something?” you asked, sounding a little uncertain. You weren’t sure what non-alcoholic drinks that bars had, but grape juice was similar enough to wine, right? Plus… you just really liked the flavor.
Wait. Did Diluc crack a smile at your question?
“Don’t worry, it’s going on Kaeya’s tab,” he assured you as he poured you a glass. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to work for him. My condolences.”
You snickered as you pulled the beverage towards you, cradling the glass between your hands. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not actually part of the military. They just endorse me as a detective so I can help with… a certain matter.” You shrugged. “I’m just lucky, I guess. The latest big case happens to fall under my special interest, so I have a lot of background knowledge that makes me useful.”
Diluc wasn’t giving any indication that he was listening at all, but judging from his response, clearly he had taken in every word. “Do you think you only earned endorsement because of your background knowledge? They must have been moving forward with the case. Are you sure you aren’t just really bright?”
The simple question made a soft flush rise to your cheeks, and you quickly lifted the juice to your lips in an effort to conceal your face behind the glass. You snuck a glance at Diluc, expecting to see a smirk or a teasing twinkle in his eyes, but his expression was neutral. He was being entirely genuine.
Why did that only make you more embarrassed?
“Maybe,” you grumbled at last. “I have to be good at something, I guess.” You forced out a laugh, but Diluc didn’t laugh along with you. Reading his expression and body language was difficult, because he wasn’t a very expressive person, but you were willing to wager that he was concerned.
“Well, being good at tracking down the mafia is quite a skill, in my opinion.”
You nearly choked on your juice. How in the world did he know that you were investigating the mafia? You racked your brain, trying to recall if the tavern had ever been targeted. The news shouldn’t have leaked out yet; the military were doing their best to keep matters under wraps. Unless the police had disobeyed them and had let something slip…
“I see a lot of people from a lot of walks of life,” was all that Diluc offered in explanation. “Angel’s Share is a place where anyone might gather. This is the city of freedom, after all.”
You tilted your head back and forth, considering his words. That made enough sense to you. “I wish I could do more, but… my body and my mind are constantly at odds.” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. “Chronic pain, and whatnot.”
That seemed to pique his curiosity. “Are you unsafe?”
You quickly shook your head. “N-no, I’m fine. I promise. I’m actually rather boring, if I’m going to be honest. It’s…” You didn’t need to finish your sentence.
“Your soulmate.”
It was a statement, not a question. You shrugged and raised the glass to your lips again, trying to avoid giving a response.
Everyone grew up with stories of fairy tales and true love, of people who met their soulmates through the weirdest means. Every story had an ounce of truth to it, though; in Teyvat, everyone had a soulmate, and two people whose destinies were bound could feel all of the other’s pain, as if they shared both heart and body.
“Someone who is in constant pain,” you murmured. “I’ve experienced all kinds of pain, all over my body-- some dull, some sharp, some short-term, some long-lasting.” A soft, fluttering sigh left your lips. “It breaks my heart to know that the person who’s supposed to be my happily ever after is being treated so vilely. That’s why I became a detective, you know? So I could uncover scummy people who would abuse others, who would hurt them. I’d love to kick their asses myself, but every beating, every lashing, every cut, every bruise…” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Honestly, their body must be a hell of a lot stronger than mine, to put up with all of this.”
“You’re pretty strong yourself if you’re able to bear it, too.”
Now you let out a genuine giggle. “You seem insistent that I’m some kind of badass.”
“You seem insistent that you aren’t.”
When you put your empty glass down on the table, you almost expected a barrage of questions from Diluc. But he just refilled your glass silently.
“That’s enough about me,” you decided with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Tell me about you, Diluc. You said you own this place, right?” He nodded. “Care to elaborate?”
Instead of telling you more about his personal life, however, he just whispered lowly, but loud enough for you to hear, “I don’t particularly agree with how the military is handling this situation.”
That caught you by surprise. If he doesn’t like the military… no wonder he didn’t like seeing Kaeya constantly popping up around his tavern. “You don’t?” you echoed, and the gentle narrowing of his eyes reminded you to keep your voice down; Kaeya was still here, after all. “What would you propose we do?” you went on, more quietly this time.
All you got in reply was a simple shrug. “Neither the major general nor the colonel have any interest in listening to me, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“Well, I’m listening.” You folded your arms across your chest. “I’m not so proud that I won’t listen to someone else, especially when they’re genuinely trying to help.” As if your words had lit something up inside of him, Diluc actually put down the glass he was washing and turned his gaze onto you. You leaned forward, determined to show him that you were serious. “You have to be open-minded and accept external support and insights from time to time, or else you may find yourself glossing over something important.” You snort. “That’s why the police piss me off, and believe me when I say I only ever worked with them for the funding, but are the military the same way?” A slight bit of concern crinkled your brow. “I’ve seen far too many cops who just do the job for the power trip. I think Jean genuinely wants what’s best for the people, and I think deep down that Kaeya is a good person too, but they’re both so…”
“Stubborn,” Diluc finished.
“Yeah.” You sighed. “I know things are hard for Jean though because she has to cover for General Varka, but…”
A soft trail of music began to float over the tavern, filling the air that would have been silent otherwise. You cast a quick glance behind you to see a petite young man with a lyre, strumming gently and rhythmically. “Huh, so Diluc is more of a classical guy,” you murmured to yourself, “if he has this bard-like fellow playing here.” You turned back to the man in question, now, who had been hesitant to speak for a while now.
Releasing a sigh, Diluc leaned over the bar as though he were going to pick up your glass, but instead he whispered in a hardly audible voice, “The military are clumsy and oafish. The nickname Knights of Favonius is laughable. If you want to catch a fox,” he breathed, “sometimes you have to think like a fox.”
He withdrew without any further explanation. “I’ll be right back,” he stated simply as he excused himself from the bar and headed over to one of the tables in the back.
You just half-mindedly twirled your cup around a few times, watching the thick, deep, purple juice inside swirl around and around, creating a small vortex. What did he even mean by “think like a fox”? He couldn’t be suggesting that the military adopt sneaky, underhanded tactics?
When Diluc returned, the conversation entirely changed its tone. He told you all about his winery, and you told him about the latest books you’d been reading in your spare time. You’d tried to ask him if he’d seen the latest episode of your favorite drama, but you couldn’t hide your surprise when he told you he didn’t watch television. “I am begging you to give this show a try,” you insisted, your eyes pleading. “I actually think you’d like the protagonist, because--”
“De~ tec~ tive~”
A hiccup cut off Kaeya’s sing-song voice as he approached you. Diluc scowled as he came up to the bar and leaned against it, but he almost looked irate when Kaeya began to reach for your hand. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m fine,” you insisted, “but it’s definitely time for you to go home. Hope you can stand.”
“Of course I can,” Kaeya told you with a dismissive roll of his eye, but that didn’t stop him from slinging his arm over your shoulder as the two of you stood up. “But the support is nice.”
“Right, right.” You cast a quick wave back at Diluc as you headed out. “I’ll text you the name of that show later!” you told him with a grin. “I’m telling you, you’ll love it!”
You didn’t even notice Kaeya’s slowed steps and his hushed whisper to Diluc as you headed to the entrance, giving a tip to the musician up front who’d been playing this whole time. “You seem awfully fond of the Knights’ new hotshot, hmm?”
“I’m doubling your tab.”
Diluc kept his eyes on the bar as the two of you finally exited Angel’s Share, but the moment the door closed behind you, he couldn’t help but shift that glance to his phone. Were you really going to text him?
Maybe the crimson hue of his hair could hide the matching shade on his cheeks.
Forgetting your scarf was really not your best move this morning, but you didn’t exactly have time to waste as you headed into the Knights’ headquarters this morning.
“Good morning.”
The soft ping of your phone caught your attention, and you pulled it out of your pocket to see who had messaged you while you caught your breath. You weren’t even running, just walking at a brisk pace, but without your scarf you felt like too many sharp gasps of the brisk autumn air were slowly freezing your lungs. “Diluc!” you gasped as you saw the familiar name at the top of your screen. “Morning!”
A swift response. “You seem chipper.”
“I’m freezing my ass off, so I’m relying purely on my enthusiasm to keep me warm.”
You almost dropped your phone in surprise when Diluc sent you a laughing emoji in response. His texts were about as deadpan as his method of speaking in person, so to see an emoji from him was almost… scary, really. He was much more relaxed around you than others, though. Over the past couple of months, you hadn’t gone back to Angel’s Share, but the two of you texted regularly and even met for coffee or meals from time to time. The museum had been your favorite place to visit thus far, and maybe the tumbler you bought there was fairly cheesy, but it sat on your kitchen countertop proudly as a reminder of your dear friend.
“How’s the pain today? How are your hands?”
“My hands? I remembered my gloves, so they’re fine.”
“Good.”
You wanted to ask how he was doing, when suddenly a new notification popped up and covered half of your screen. Sometimes it was just news about celebrities--although you were eager to check out Barbara’s concert lineup for her upcoming tour--and you quickly dismissed it, but today’s headline happened to capture your interest.
“Darknight Hero Captures Mafia Villain,” you read aloud. “Wait, what?!”
This wasn’t the first you’d heard of the Darknight Hero, a late-night vigilante who wasn’t associated with the police or the military. In fact, he tended to be somewhat of a thorn in the Knights’ sides, since he acted without authority and seemed to do as he pleased, punishing evil by his terms and nobody else’s. Nobody had any leads as to his identity, either, since he wore a hood and a mask. Honestly, if you didn’t have your hands full with all of the mafia business, you might have suggested that the Knights send someone to try and track him down.
But for once, his interference actually was beneficial. According to the article, the mysterious hero had left a bound and gagged mafia member on the Knights’ doorstep. He was usually careful to avoid surveillance cameras, but he must have found the matter too serious to try to handle by himself for once.
Wait, if the captured member was at HQ, then…
“Shit, I need to hurry!”
No sooner had the words left your mouth than did your plans for the day shift entirely.
Flashes of red, orange, and yellow flickered in the edges of your vision, but they weren’t the comforting hues that signaled the start of fall. They were bright, flashing bursts that crackled with the violence and intensity of a raging wildfire.
But there couldn’t be a fire in the middle of the city, right?
You turned your head in the direction of the light, and the smoke that followed soon after and clogged up the once-clear blue sky quickly erased any traces of doubt out of your mind. And the booming roar that assaulted your ears was the final piece of the puzzle that you needed to figure out exactly what had happened.
“Bomb,” you whispered. “Shit!”
Staring in the direction of the disaster would do more harm than good, so you lifted your coat above your head to shield your face and scrambled towards the military headquarters. Even though climbing up the stairs towards the Knights’ building was bringing you closer and closer to the crime scene--you could tell from the way the acrid tang in the air grew stronger with each step you climbed--you knew that the best way to respond would be to organize something with your superiors. They’d probably just order the police and the fire department to handle the situation, but you couldn’t fight the nagging suspicion in your stomach.
The suspicion that the Fatui were behind this attack.
Much to your frustration, as you reached the final few steps of the staircase, you began to feel a sharp pain stinging across your lip. You bit back a hiss of pain and bit it gently, muttering curses under your breath. “Now is not the time,” you grumbled, as you awaited for a continued onslaught. But it was just your lip for now, so with a heavy sigh you finished your ascent and then scurried up to the front door of HQ.
“I apologize for my tardiness!” you exclaimed as soon as you entered the building, your key fob dangling from a lanyard. At least here, you never had to worry about mixing up your keys like back at the station.
Nobody seemed to pay any heed to your late arrival or your apology, though, as the knights were (understandably) scrambling around as if they were the ones on fire.
“Detective!” Your head perked up at the firm, familiar, female voice, and you straightened up at once.
“Major General Jean,” you greeted her with her full title, but the blonde shook her head dismissively.
“Jean is fine. We’re in a rush.” She looked down at her phone, her nose twitching in apprehension as she received a flurry of messages. “We’ve sent police officers to look for the culprit and firefighters to put out the flames,” she informed you, “but I still want to send our own independent forces to the scene. I need to ensure that there were no fatalities.”
“You know very well that Barbara wasn’t at the Church this morning, dearest Jean.”
A smooth, sultry voice cooed from behind you, and you craned your neck to see the Knights’ recordkeeper and Mondstadt’s head librarian, Lisa Minci, strolling towards you two. She always seemed to have a more relaxed aura to her than the largely uptight knights, but even she seemed to be a little stiffer than usual. “She told us that she was going to the studio to rehearse her steps before her tour starts soon.”
Gentle pink flowers blossomed on Jean’s cheeks, and she murmured, “I need to be absolutely positive, Lisa. She spends so much time there.”
‘So the bomb was at the church,’ you thought. ‘That’s an interesting choice of a target.’ Getting absorbed in your thoughts and your analysis, you began to think aloud. “An attack on the Church could easily be perceived as a strike by malcontents who aren’t happy with Mondstadt’s absentee archon, perhaps political rebels. But the timing is also incredibly suspect. Just last night, the Darknight Hero caught one of the Fatui, and what looks like a terrorist attack happens less than 24 hours later? It’s fishy. If anything, it almost seems like retaliation by the remaining members of the mafia who are lurking about Mondstadt, like they were trying to avenge their loss. And if it’s world domination that they’re after, then attacking the Church makes sense because it might force our archon to return to protect the city. Like they want to lure him out.”
“The Church,” Lisa echoed, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you realized that you’d been uttering your thoughts for all to hear. “So that’s what they’re after….”
Jean’s gaze flickered between you and Lisa, and she asked in a hushed tone, “You’re positive that the mafia is behind this?”
“I wouldn’t say positive, but it seems highly likely. I’d need to investigate myself to--”
Jean raised a hand to cut you off mid-sentence. “Absolutely not. You can’t go to the crime scene.”
You couldn’t fight back the irritation that crept onto your face, knitting your eyebrows and dragging the corners of your lips down into a frown. “The trail is blazing hot. Can’t I just get an escort?”
“Our hands are full,” Jean replied coolly, with an edge to her tone that suggested her decision was final. “You are to stay safe and out of the way. We can’t guarantee that the surroundings are safe. You won’t be able to follow any trails if you’re injured, detective.” And with that, she turned back towards the thick of soldiers milling about, issuing orders as fast as her lungs would allow.
Lisa blinked at you sympathetically before retreating back to her own office, knowing that even she wasn’t a match for Jean when she was in full-on work mode.
Dejected, frustrated, and burning with curiosity, you bit your still-sore lower lip and stormed out of HQ.
“This is literally my job, and they won’t let me do it? WTF!” Your thumbs flew across your screen furiously as you updated Diluc on your situation. Of course he had wanted to check that you were safe, so you confirmed and then dove into venting.
“It sounds like Jean wants to keep you safe.”
“The one and only time you side with the Knights is when I’m complaining about them? :(“ Whose side was he on?
“Oh, I’m not siding with them. I’m just thinking.”
As you scrolled through your emoji list for the pair of curious eyes, Diluc already had typed up a follow-up message.
“If you had an escort, then she wouldn’t be able to complain, correct?”
“I already told you, she said their hands are full.”
“Then I’ll be your escort. I’m not military, so she can’t complain about needing to spare troops.”
“But you aren’t police, either. If we get caught, won’t you get in trouble?”
“Meet me at Angel’s Share as soon as you can. We’ll head to the Church together, and I will keep you safe.”
Even you were surprised by his blatant disregard for the Knights’ authority, but even as guilt trickled into your mind and heart, they couldn’t overpower the fire in your stomach at the thought of being able to investigate, unfettered. You began to head for the tavern at once, your forgotten scarf no longer on your mind as your adrenaline and enthusiasm warmed you up from the inside.
“News really spreads slowly among the Knights, huh? Those officers let you in without batting an eye,” Diluc murmured as the two of you entered the Church to begin your investigation.
“Serious question, here, but if you don’t say something negative about the Knights at least once a day, will your head fall off or something? Or is it just a reflex?”
Cracking a smile out of Diluc always felt like a personal accomplishment, so you allowed yourself to give him a cheeky smirk before heading further into the building. “Reflex,” he answered at last, but your friendly banter came to an end as you reached deeper inside. The pughs had been covered by soot and ash, but now you found yourself carefully stepping around warped wood, rubble, and debris.
“Y/N, look,” Diluc whispered, pointing off to the side. You looked at his hand, and you almost asked about the bandages peeking out from underneath his gloves, but the question died in your throat as you saw the ruined wall off to the northeast part of the building.
“That has to be where the bomb went off,” you breathed, and at once you kicked off against the ground to give yourself an extra burst of speed.
A strong but gentle hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks. You tilted your chin to see Diluc shaking his head at you. “Caution,” he reminded you. “I’m here to escort you, remember?”
You bit back a snide remark and nodded briskly. He was right, as much as you didn’t want to admit it; there was no guarantee that this building’s infrastructure was sound, for one matter, and even less assurance that nobody was still lurking. You two carved a path through the rubble until you could get closer to the darkest part of the wall--the part of the building where the bomb must have been placed.
And you would have been completely fine with investigating that until you tripped over something that made you cry out in horror.
At once, almost instinctively, Diluc grabbed you by the waist and pulled you backward with such force that you slammed into his torso and sent him falling bottom-first onto the ground.
You didn’t even realize how ragged your breathing was and how rapid your heartbeat was until you felt a steady, sturdy heartbeat pounding against your back and gentle, controlled breaths tickling against your ear. “Are you alright?”
You didn’t respond immediately, just allowing yourself to feel safe and secure against Diluc’s chest with his arms wrapped around you. Why were you so rattled by this discovery? This wasn’t your first time seeing anything like this, having seen pictures throughout case files and photographs, but somehow…
Somehow, literally tripping over a corpse was more unsettling than you had been led to believe.
“I…” You managed to find your voice at last. Diluc’s hair tickled your nose, nearly prompting you to sneeze, so you tried to straighten up. The redhead didn’t adjust his grip at all though, keeping you stuck firmly in place. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat to speak again did he drop his arms and allow you to stand again. He helped you to your feet; you couldn’t help but notice how warm his hands were as he pulled you up. “I found a victim,” you whispered as you finally let go.
“That would startle anyone,” Diluc murmured sympathetically. “Do you think anyone is aware that there was a fatality?”
You shook your head. “I want to get a closer look,” you declared, but your voice shook as you did so. Diluc allowed traces of concern to creep onto his face, but you were adamant. “We could get clues.”
This time, Diluc led the way so that he could be the one who discovered any unwelcome surprises; he was far better at keeping his emotions under control. When he reached the spot where the body was located, he held out his arm to keep you back. “It’s here,” he reported. “Are you ready?”
You bit your lip--still sore, you noticed to your chagrin--and nodded. “I have to be.”
Diluc stepped to the side and let you move in front of him, but he still hovered above you, keeping a lookout in case any pesky cops--or worse, a lingering perpetrator--had any mind to try to interfere.
“Clearly charred,” you murmured sadly as you looked over the body, which even still smelled of burnt flesh. But it wasn’t entirely burnt beyond recognition. In fact, you could still make out the details of the face, which was what led you to a very… important, albeit disturbing, observation. “But I don’t think the bomb killed them.”
“Hmm?” Diluc maintained his protective stance but lowered his gaze to you. “Go on.”
“Look, there’s a huge hole in their face.” You picked up a nearby splinter of wood and pointed at the body. “From their forehead almost all the way down to the bridge of their nose. That…” A shudder ran down your spine as you began to piece together the course of events. “That looks like a bullet wound. As if they were shot point-blank.”
Diluc nodded slowly, taking in the information. “You think this person was killed by the perpetrator, not the bomb.”
“Most likely,” you confirmed. “They probably caught those Fatui scum in the middle of planting the bomb and paid the price with their life.” Your heart twisted in pain as you gave the body another once-over. To imagine a simple nun or clergyman minding their own business at the church, only to stroll upon an unfortunate scene…. “And then the Fatui left the body near the bomb, so it’d look like they died in the explosion. But they definitely died from the bullet wound. Why would someone shoot a hole in an already-dead, charred body?”
“You’re positive it’s the Fatui?” Despite his challenging words, his tone was neutral. He wasn’t arguing with you; he was helping you develop your analysis.
“The weapons requirements in Mondstadt are very strict. In order to obtain a firearm, you’d have to pass a rigorous screening. That’s why officers and military are pretty much the only ones you’ll find with guns in Mondstadt, and not even all officers have one.” The sick feeling in the pit of your stomach was growing more agonizing with each passing second. “They were defenseless. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They…” Hoarser, hoarser, your voice was hardly intelligible at this point.
A single touch on your shoulder brought you back to the present and out of your dark thoughts. Two fingers, lightly tapping your shoulder. You turned your head away from the victim to look over at Diluc, who just gave you a reassuring nod. He may not have been the best at comfort, but… he was here.
And that meant the world to you right now.
“In any event, we need an autopsy,” you concluded, straightening up and getting to your feet. Once your brain had toggled back into work mode, nothing was going to interfere with you finishing the task at hand. “The duration of time between the gunshot wound and the bomb explosion could help us determine how far away their hideout is. They clearly wanted something from the Church… why else would they have blown it up? To get all the people out.” You looked around the nearby walls. “They didn’t use a strong enough bomb to completely destroy the building. They want something from the Church, but what do they want? Is it just to lure the archon out?” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “If that’s the case, they’re still in Mondstadt. They have to be. They’re just lying in wait. Maybe they expect the archon to return to the Church, since archons are said to be blessed by the gods.” As you continued your scan of the building, trying to determine just how powerful the bomb was, you spotted another clue.
One that made your blood run cold but also served the important purpose of confirming your suspicions once and for all.
“Diluc,” you rasped, your breath somewhat strangled. “I want that analyzed immediately.”
The redhead cocked an eyebrow before following your gaze, and even he seemed startled by the sight that lay before you two.
In thick, vibrant red lettering, spray painted on the stone wall directly above the entrance to the Church, were the following words: YOU’RE NEXT, NEMESIS.
“Immediately,” you repeated, giving yourself a quick shake to regain your composure. You didn’t have the capacity to consider the ramifications of that sentence right now. You didn’t want to waste the time or energy considering what that meant for the Knights, for you, for your safety. “I’ll also ask Lisa to look for all local, recent purchases of red spray paint in Mondstadt. Can you help me remember that?”
A simple nod. “Of course, Y/N,” Diluc reassured you. “But wouldn’t it be wiser to just write these notes down?”
The softest, most self-deprecating laugh left your lips, and you turned a feeble smile onto Diluc. “I would love to do that,” you told him, “but I’m afraid I’m shaking too much to write anything.”
Not prompting you any further, Diluc just nodded again and made a note in his phone. “How are you feeling?” he asked at last.
You shook your head with another harsh laugh. “Like I need some grape juice,” you confessed. “I might need to call it a day.”
Another faint smile stretched onto the redhead’s lips. “I happen to know a place with excellent grape juice. I could use one myself.”
You didn’t even realize that you had been in the Church for so long until you exited to see the sun setting behind the horizon. “Hey, Diluc, you should take me to the winery one of these days.”
“If you can get a day off, I wouldn’t mind that.”
“I probably won’t get a day off unless I beg Kaeya--”
“I’ll have a word with him.”
“Diluc, no--”
Somehow, it wasn’t until sunset that the early autumn air of Mondstadt felt comforting and warm for the first time that day.
A low whistle resounding from a high perch.
“Oh, you lot have made a mess for the Tsaritsa.” A quiet murmur rumbled, partially muffled, from behind a young man’s mask. “But by the time that I am finished with you traitors, you’ll be begging to me for mercy.” Slowly, carefully, he began to lower that mask, his eyes glittering a dangerous blue darker than the deepest trench in the sea, and he swiped his tongue across his dry, swollen lower lip with a malicious chuckle.
“And you aren’t going to get it.”