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His birthday was never something to celebrate. Not since his father passed. It’s a time he spends mourning over his losses.
What losses? His remaining family and the optimistic child that no longer exists. All of them died along with the man he called dad.
Diluc finds it strange. Difficult to comprehend on some nights. He as a person changed entirely. Much too soon for someone who had just reached adulthood. So, he ponders.
He recalls the Ursa Drake: A ferocious creature that craved destruction, ravaging everything in its path. Diluc was on that path. He wasn’t strong enough to fend it off. He doubts even now he’d be able to fight it without issue. Diluc occasionally thinks the death his father faced was his fault. He was the one who didn’t realize the Fatui's meddling. He was the one who put Crepus out of his misery.
Diluc sees himself as pathetic, weak even. If he had only tried a bit harder, paid a bit more attention, his father would still be here.
Ah, Crepus wasn’t only Diluc’s father though. He was Kaeya’s too. As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t. They had grown up together. Fought together. Loved each other. Ripped away by a few words. It was unkind of him to shun their brotherhood aside because he was having a tantrum. A spoiled, rich kid tantrum, as he puts it. He thinks that maybe, if he tries hard enough, Kaeya will accept him again.
They could go to Windrise and stare up at the constellations as they did when they were children. Diluc could look at Kaeya’s infatuated expression as he shows him what each constellation means. Kaeya could fall asleep in his older brother’s arms and feel protected, loved even.
Diluc shakes his head. A stupid and childish thought to have at his age. He is an adult. He should not be wishing to act as a child would.
Although….
He bashes his head on his desk, groaning to himself. Diluc has no right to take care of Kaeya. Not after what he did. The amount of blood that was pulled from one person. Kaeya should’ve died that night, but he didn’t. He can only pray to Celestia that it remains that way.
And so his thoughts drift back to his father. A tall, semi-burly man. Red hair that rivaled his own.
His face–
Diluc can’t remember his face. It’s a wispy memory that he both hates and loves. Were Crepus’ eyes a similar shade to his? Did he have freckles that resembled his own? It’s too much for his brain. He as the child of Crepus should not be forgetting something so simple about his father. It’s just his appearance. He should remember, but he can’t. That fact alone drives him insane on days like this. Days where he spends too much time pondering without an anchor to hold him steady.
His stability is broken down until it’s a piece of wood that barely floats upon the ocean’s surface. On these days he’s only mere moments away from drowning.
The fingers running through his hair clamp down on his scalp. Diluc’s nails tangle his own hair but he pays it little mind. The minor pain is a decent distraction though, enough to tear him from jumping into the waters that his head holds.
Adelinde is normally the one who drags him out of these things on his birthday. She takes several precautions just to keep him happy, safe even. He loves her all the more for it.
But she isn’t here. Adelinde is gone and Diluc is left to drown alone.
Water clouds his vision. It drips from his face and to the stack of papers that rest on his desk. Diluc cries. It’s been so long since he’s been able to cry as such. To let the wall that he clings to fall down and lay him bare.
He isn’t Mondstadt’s beloved vigilante.
He is a child. A child who wants to curl up with a figure that no longer lives. A child that wants to feel fatherly affection again, even if it lasts only a few seconds.
But simultaneously, he is an adult with responsibilities. Diluc does not believe it should be possible for him to be both.
He continues to cry until he can no longer. By then his eyes are dry and red and the sky hues of orange. Normally Diluc would be out at this time, looking through the network he shared with Kaeya. But today is different. Diluc is twenty-four, which marks the sixth year his father has been dead.
He travels down the winery stairs then into his kitchen. It’s oddly quiet. The maids do not bustle around the building and there is no fresh food that awaits him. It’s what to be expected considering his request. What is not expected is the knock that comes right before he finishes heating a pan up. It’s clearly raining and the sun is setting, so who would have the gall to approach the winery in such conditions, let alone knock on his door?
The answer is so clear when he hears Kaeya’s voice.
“My dearest brother Diluc, I know you are in there. Miss Adelinde asked that I come here today since she could not,” he says, continuing to knock.
Diluc can’t find it in himself to complain. On any other day he would reject Kaeya’s offer. Send him home with a face that told him to go fuck himself.
Today isn't any other day.
He wearily opens the door to a soaked, shivering, and noisy Cavalry Captain.
“Why are you here?” he asks. Kaeya tilts his head to the side and pushes past Diluc, settling himself in the kitchen where the pan cools.
“I already told you. Adelinde sent me here.” He stops to look through the pantry. “And it’s your birthday. It’s unfair to leave you alone under such circumstances.”
Diluc gives him a wide-eyed stare, one that scrutinizes his every movement before joining him.
They fall into a waltz of sorts after a few seconds. Swerving around each other in perfect harmony as Kaeya grabs things and Diluc throws them into the finally heated pan. Though they don’t speak to one another, they come to an agreement.
.
They finish cooking and set the table.
It’s surreal almost.
Sitting in the same room where he had almost taken the life of Kaeya all those years ago, now, eating dinner with him. It reminds him of simpler times. Times when he was allowed to be a child with no true responsibilities.
When Diluc bites into the food, he cries again. It’s not because of the taste, but because of the memories that come with it.
Kaeya is alarmed by this. He’s a bit rusty when it comes to his culinary skills, but surely it cannot be that bad?
“I can always get something else if this does not suit your tastes, Master Diluc,” Kaeya says, his voice laced with disappointment. Diluc hates the formality Kaeya speaks to him with. They are not strangers anymore. They weren’t strangers to begin with. They simply had…. Different viewpoints that separated them.
“It’s fine, Kaeya. I just–” Diluc stops to let a sniffle out. “I miss this. Sitting peacefully with our father. Meals not made by the maids but by him.”
Kaeya’s eye softens ever so slightly and Diluc almost doesn’t see it. If he weren’t paying attention he’d guess that Kaeya is upset. But he isn’t. He’s the happiest that Diluc had seen him in a while.
“I miss them too,” Kaeya whispers. He does not use his obnoxious voice nor the facade he commonly wears. He’s Kaeya, plain and simple.
.
They sit there awkwardly for the rest of the evening. Diluc offers Kaeya a room to stay in but he denies it, claiming that it’s easier to work closer to headquarters. He then leaves, saying something along the lines of, “Happy birthday” while dropping a small box on one of the desks.
The dirtied plates are still on the table. Of course, Kaeya was never one for cleaning. It’s a habit he still holds to this day. Diluc doesn’t mind though. Not when Kaeya is the one who saved him from drowning in Adelinde’s absence. The poor woman deserves a break for what she puts up with for Diluc. If Kaeya agrees to it, maybe this could become a regular occurrence. Nightly dinners, breakfast the next morning.
Diluc smiles to himself. They’re making amends with each other, no matter how long it’ll take. Whether it be a few days or years, they’ll get there.