Chapter Text
He did not improve over the next few days. If anything, it got worse.
At least by day three Kaeya was up and moving around, although he was sure that was because his body was adjusting to this weird state of constant sickness he was in. Finally he was able to crawl out of bed long enough to clean himself up, which at least temporarily made him feel better. Swapping out the sheets that were slowly accruing blood on them with clean ones also improved his mood infinitely.
He was at the very least well enough to return to work, in his opinion. He was sure Jean would insist on a few more days, but there was so much work to do and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. He’d just make himself scarce for a couple more days. He didn't have much confidence that a couple more days would shake whatever he’s caught, so there was no point in dallying and hoping he improves.
Day four after his exile from the Favonius headquarters, he once again forced himself out of bed bright and early so that he could sneak in before Jean could get a good look at him. He was sure he still looked horrid, but if he stuck to his office, he could probably avoid too many questions.
On his way in he took a detour to Good Hunter to pick up breakfast, content to force food down his throat no matter what his body said on the matter. Sara smiled at him as he went through, surely having heard about his little sickness from whoever was tasked with bringing things to his door. An exchange of pleasantries later he had a rather plain pastry to eat as he worked his way up to headquarters, giving light greetings to people as he passed by.
“So you live,” a voice stopped him. A glance behind him told him Rosaria was there, leaning against a wall pretending to be uninterested in the hustle and bustle of Mondstadt's early morning routine. Around them craftsmen were readying their tools for the day, merchants were starting to open their storefronts and children were starting to flock from their homes ready to be away from their parent's steady gaze. Only a fool would truly take her for disinterested, she was noticing every detail around her.
“Worried about me Rosie?” he smirked at her, placing his hands over his heart, as if touched by her probably-fake concern.
“Don’t call me that,” she grumbled. “Where have you been the last couple nights? That annoying bard was wondering.”
“Just the bard?” he teased, but she didn’t dignify it with an answer. “If you must know, I have been chained to my bed by a fair maid-”
“Nope, try again.”
“So cruel,” he sighed, dropping his hands and motioning with a shrug. “I came down with a cough, awful business really. So awful that our dear Acting Grandmaster banished me to my home to recover. She can be rather forceful when she wants to be.”
She looked him over, no doubt looking for signs of this illness. His story seemed to pass muster as she nodded silently before turning away.
“Do try to stop by the tavern soon, before Venti and Diluc drive me to murder.” Before he could respond, Rosaria sauntered away as if she had never been there. Typical of her, gone as quickly as she came.
Once again left alone, he continued his walk to his desk, nodding in greeting at the guards at the entrance. They seem relieved to see him back at least, letting out a "Welcome Back Captain" as he passed through. He dreaded to think of all the work he was surely behind on. Sure enough, stacked up on his desk was enough paperwork to occupy him for a while. He kept some tissues nearby and kept his door shut tight in order to deter anyone from listening to his coughing fits. He’d have to find a way to dispose of any blood covered tissues later on, probably later in the evening when everyone has left for the day. He could sneak around Jean if need be, he’s done it before.
He was actively doing it right now.
Kaeya wasn’t sure how much time had passed before a knock at his office door pulled him out of what he was doing, although the sun was starting to set on the horizon if the view from his window told him anything.
“Kaeya, open the door.” A pause. “I know you’re in there.”
Ah, that was Jean’s ‘I’m not happy right now’ voice.
He stifled his coughs down and shoved his pile of bloodied tissues into a drawer before he made it to the door to open it and yup, she did not look very happy. “Acting Grandmaster Jean, what brings you to my humble office?”
Jean looked decidedly unimpressed with his admittedly weak attempt at showboating. “Chasing you back home.”
“My dear Jean, I am right as rain,” he countered her, “No need to send me home at this point in any way, I'm getting quite a bit done you know.”
“Then why have I had people in my office all day asking about your well being? You could have taken a few more days off if you needed them,” Jean said, as she looked at him disappointment shone in her blue eyes.
“How wonderful of my coworkers to show their concern for me,” Kaeya said nonchalantly, as if they were concerned about him of all people. Regardless, he hated to disappoint her. “But I am fine.”
“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are,” Jean informed him, still frowning. Kaeya hated it when she frowned like that, even more so when that frown was because of him. It is your fault, can’t even hide being sick well enough, he thought to himself. “Go home, come back when you actually feel better.”
“Jean this is really unnecessary really, I'm fin-”
“It’s not a request, Captain Alberich. You’re no good to us like this,” Jean’s voice raised over his. It seems he misread just how upset she was with him. He at least had the decency to look chastised about it. “You will go home and rest, and I don’t want to see you here until you feel better. Understood?”
The hard edge to her voice took him aback. He’d heard that tone from her before, usually when some recruit was acting up and she needed to get involved.
“Don’t treat me like some fresh faced recruit,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and letting his gaze fall away from hers.
“Don’t act like one and I wouldn’t have to. You have 15 minutes to get home and rest. I do mean home too, I better not find you in a tavern,” she responded, her decision final. If Kaeya knew her at all, she would be checking in exactly 15 minutes too. Her voice softened up, “Please Kaeya, you’re not well. Rest.”
“If you insist, Acting Grandmaster,” is all he said on the matter before walking out the door.
He’d forgotten about the tissues hastily shoved in his desk drawer.
Kaeya wasn’t really ready to go home. Instead he went for a walk, something he was sure Jean would argue against if she ever found out. While he did think that Jean would check to make sure he didn't stay at work or go out to Angel's Share. Maybe he shouldn't gamble on her just going straight home.
‘You’re no good to us like this.’ That’s what Jean had said. Such a useless thing he was, unable to even work anymore. Not useful to Jean right now, he hasn’t been useful to Diluc in years, and certainly not useful to Mondstadt or Khaenri’ah. He’d have to shake this sickness off soon, he wouldn’t be kept around if he wasn’t useful.
Wasn’t that how his entire life was defined, by how useful he was to those around him? He would be tossed out if he didn’t maintain his usefulness. He’d need to rethink his approach, prove to Jean he could still work despite everything going on with him.
He wandered through the streets of Mondstadt, lost in his thoughts and not really registering his surroundings. Almost on instinct he avoided Angel’s Share, not wanting to run the risk of running into Diluc or Jean. After talking to Jean he didn’t think he could take Diluc's rejection right now. Maybe there was an upper limit on how many problems he could cause in one day.
“There’s our wayward Captain.”
Kaeya paused and saw Barbatos himself leaned up against a building, strumming his lyre in a tune he didn’t recognize. Probably just a gentle tune to make noise more than anything, from Kaeya’s understanding the little green bard couldn’t stand silence.
Something they had in common.
“Venti,” Kaeya finally acknowledged him.
“Sir Kaeya!” Venti’s cheerful demeanor was almost infectious. “How fortunate that our paths have finally crossed! It's been far too long!”
“It’s only been a couple days, surely you didn’t miss me that much,” Kaeya let a teasing tone slip into his words.
“Long enough to miss someone!” Surely the Archon himself wouldn’t miss him after a mere couple days, Kaeya almost scoffed at the concept. “Especially since you look so down.”
“Down? Merely under the weather,” Kaeya told Venti, although he wasn’t sure the archon bought it.
“Are you sure that's all?” Ah so Venti didn’t believe him. “It seems more than a little ‘under the weather’ as you put it.”
“Oh I’m very sure,” Kaeya said. “Jean chased me out of the office to kick this cold of mine and everything. Don’t you worry, I’ll be back at the tavern soon enough to assist you in annoying Master Diluc.”
Venti seemed to hesitate, “Perhaps some time away from the tavern would improve your spirits.”
“How ever will I drink my sorrows away?”
“So you admit it? You do have sorrows to drink away,” Venti’s smile didn’t leave his face, as if he wasn’t trying to wear Kaeya down into a confession.
“Who doesn’t?”
“Perhaps you should try sharing those troubles with others, as to share the burden.”
“Look who’s talking,” Kaeya all but snapped back at him. A pause followed, where had that come from? Maybe he was more tired than originally thought. But Kaeya was sure the archon had something he was trying to drink away, after all no one drinks as much as he did with no reason.
Venti didn’t seem offended by his tone at least, instead just humming, “Fear not, the wind will always be listening, should you ever need it.”
That took the wind out of his sails completely. Oh, and hurt more than he thought it would. Venti, Barbatos, was always watching him, waiting for him to fuck up. “I completely understand Venti.” Kaeya’s face fell as he looked to the ground next to him. A split second later he smiled, “Don’t you worry about a thing, Mondstadt will remain safe, even from myself.”
“Sir Kaeya!” Venti protested, his eyes going wide, “I fear you misunderstand what I’m saying.”
Absentmindedly, Kaeya played with the edge of the fur around his shoulders, “I don’t think I am. But the children of Mondstadt will always ensure her safety, don’t stress so much.” That should please the Anemo Archon. He turned to hurry down the street, all of a sudden tired of being in public.
“But Sir Kae-”
“It's getting late, have a pleasant evening, Venti.” Kaeya ignored Venti’s continued protests as he forced himself to walk down the road and not break into a sprint.
Kaeya slammed the door to his apartment behind him vacantly flipping the deadbolt—as if that would keep him safe from an archon. Safe from the wind. He laughed to himself, there was nowhere on Teyvat he would be safe from the wind.
Deep down he’d always known that Venti’s so called fondness for him was nothing more than a smokescreen for him keeping an eye on him. Always known that the freedom Venti espoused didn’t extend to a sinner like himself.
He let himself slide down the back of his door and stared at his hardwood floors, letting his thoughts wander off. Venti, Barbatos, didn’t trust him. He wondered why the god even let this rat stay in Mondstadt at all if he knew. Kaeya wasn’t sure how long had passed before he could finally pull himself up off the floor, the world spinning around him as he stumbled away from the door.
Unfortunately, he was immediately hit with a coughing fit. The world swam in and out of focus and his chest felt like it was going to explode every time he tried to take a breath. He stumbled into his kitchen and gripped a chair, his throat felt like it was on fire with how much coughing he was doing.
Vaguely in the back of his head he knew there was something in his throat. He brought the hand that wasn’t gripping his dining room chair for dear life to his throat, as if it would stop the choking. He wanted to claw at it, force whatever was in his throat out so he could breath again, oh he couldn't breathe.
Was this how he will die, choking on something all alone in his apartment? How lonely. How fitting.
It was not his day to die yet as a couple strong coughs came out and whatever-it-was that was in his throat finally ejected itself and landed on his dining room table. He dry heaved and his shoulders shook as air finally found its way back into his body.
His throat was still sore when he caught his breath and the world slowly stopped running circles in front of him. His vision finally cleared up enough to see what he’d just coughed up.
There sitting on the dining room table was a perfect cecilia. Its usually white delicate petals were covered in blood that was dripping from the flower onto the table. Kaeya knew what the problem was the minute he saw it.
So it was official. He was dying. Dying from a disease that plagued the nation of Khaenri’ah long after its eradication from Teyvat. He wasn’t sure the specifics, but the gods wiped the disease off the face of Teyvat a millennia ago, not long after the Archon War. Or was it during the Archon War? Kaeya couldn’t remember, it’d been so long since he had to think of it. The gods’ light never shone on Khaenri’ah regardless; and thus the disease continued to fester under the dirt, left completely unchecked. Perhaps even this was a way the gods’ showed how unloved that nation underground was, that the illness that came about because of rejection would haunt the very land rejected by the gods.
Hanahaki, a disease long thought gone, unless you were from Khaenri’ah. How unlucky Kaeya was, to hail from that nation. He can’t even pretend he’s not, not when his death sentence is sitting on his kitchen table covered in his blood. Maybe he should just end it all early, save everyone the trouble of dealing with him. Hanahaki was terminal after all, no cure godly or otherwise would save him now. No one had ever survived it, not to his knowledge at least.
It hurt more than he thought it would, the confirmation that Venti didn’t love him back, that Mondstadt itself didn’t love him back. That Venti didn’t view him as one of his children. He always knew he didn’t belong here, that he was just a rat that Barbatos allowed to exist in his nation.
Maybe he’d deluded himself into thinking that this nation and her people had some affection for him.
His head in a daze he pulled open a drawer in his kitchen and drew out a knife. It would be easier to just plunge it into his chest, kill both himself and the flowers in one go. Maybe Diluc would finally be happy with him gone, Venti could rest easy knowing he didn’t have to constantly have him under surveillance. Maybe Jean could finally catch up and rest without him constantly throwing a wrench in her plans.
He just had to stop being a coward and do it, but his hand shook as he pointed the knife at his own chest. He was dying anyway, what difference did it make if it was now or in a few weeks? With a scream he threw the knife across the room, feeling tears in his eyes as he heard the knife embed itself into the wall across from him.
In the end he was selfish, so selfish. They didn’t love him back but he still wanted to spend as much time as he could with them all. Kaeya racked his brain, trying to remember the finer details of the disease. He hasn’t thought about Hanahaki and what it entails for years, not since he was a child. Vaguely, he remembered some of his countrymen dying of it, coughing up flowers in the street. Of his birth father looking at them with disdain on his face, calling them weak-hearted fools for dying like that. Oh to see the look on the man’s face when he realized his own son was one of those weak fools he hated so much.
He knew he’d deteriorate from here. Eventually, he’d just become a hollow shell with nothing but hallucinations to keep him company, even his memories would fade away eventually. That’s if he even remembered the symptoms correctly. Maybe if he tried to time his suicide early before he was completely unable to function…
Feeling like a puppet with his strings cut, Kaeya finally found the couch to collapse on. Finally he closed his eyes. He was so tired already and it wouldn’t get better from here.
It’d never get better.
Kaeya woke up on his couch. He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but he was sure he was late for work again. Not that he would be allowed in the building currently if Jean had any say in the matter. She would have to simply live with it when he returned, there was a lot that he would have to get done before he was laid in his coffin. He wasn’t sure who would be his successor would be but he’d rather set them up for success-
Oh. His successor. Because he was dying and someone would need to take his place. Maybe he could help scout out someone, take the load off of Jean for a bit. If he could keep himself intact long enough.
It was midday, far too early to go to the Angel’s Share. What day was it again? Is it a day Diluc is there? Usually Kaeya’d be at headquarters by now, but he wasn’t sure what he should do. He spent so much time at home the last couple days that he felt like he was going crazy.
Maybe going stir crazy would take him out long before the Hanahaki did.
He looked around his apartment, taking in his collection of stuff. It would have to go somewhere, he should start figuring out where. The furniture he salvaged from the manor before Diluc sold it would have to be returned, he wasn’t really sure if Diluc knew he had it or not. He doubted it since if Diluc was aware he'd have probably come to burn it already. It was nice of Adelinde to let him take what he wanted out of it before he was gone for good, it served him nicely.
There were some drawings from Klee strung about the place, he bet that Jean and Albedo would like those, a dodoco plush of hers sat on his dresser that he’d have to return. Some various knickknacks he’d acquired slowly through his travels could be dispersed at random he supposed.
His savings had to go somewhere, but at the moment he wasn’t sure where. It wasn’t like Diluc was hurting for cash, nor was Jean. Klee he doubted had a use for money, Alice was probably loaded. Albedo maybe? He wasn’t sure what the alchemist’s income looked like. Maybe he’d clear Venti’s tab with it, Archons knows he could use it.
It was too much to think about right now. He could worry about his will in a bit, he wasn’t sure if he even had one on file with the Church. Kaeya was relatively sure he didn’t, it was never something he had to worry about. Although he’d never been actively dying before.
Kaeya laid himself back down on the couch burying his head face first in a throw pillow, feeling another round of coughs bubbling in the back of his throat. He didn’t even try to fight it as petals came out, although he eventually forced himself to cough towards the floor so he wouldn’t get blood on the couch. He’d hate to eventually return it to Diluc stained with his blood. He didn’t think even Diluc, who hated him more than anyone, would find enjoyment in that.
Eventually, another cecelia finally spat from his mouth, giving him a second reprieve from his coughing fit. He forced the dry heaves down as he found the energy to at least turn and sit up. Burying his head in his hands he forced himself to look at the flower laying on the floor.
Maybe his birth father was right, this really was such a pathetic way to die.
Angel’s Share was quiet that evening all things considered. It was never a truly empty place unless it was closed. Kaeya supposed it was expected considering it was a weekday night, not enough to truly be busy but not enough to be truly empty.
Kaeya had to force himself not to flinch as he saw the familiar red head behind the bar, whose frown only seemed to deepen when he saw who had just entered his tavern.
“Why are you here?” Diluc said in lieu of a greeting, forcing Kaeya to repress a flinch at his tone. Just as he suspected, Diluc was not happy to see him. He knew there was no love lost between him and his older brother, but it still hurt every time he got the cold shoulder or harsh words from Diluc.
“Simply hoping to enjoy a drink and a night out. It's been oh so long since I’ve been out, you know,” Kaeya replied.
“I’m aware,” Diluc looked him up and down, frowning as he did so. “Go home, you still look awful. Jean would skin me if I served you like this.”
“Good thing she’s not here,” Kaeya said, “I think I’ll have a glass of your finest Dandelion wine.”
“Not your usual? Maybe you do need to go back to bed,” Diluc started to pour a glass for him, “One, just to shut you up. Then go home.”
“I don’t always drink Death After Noon,” Kaeya grumbled at him. That being said, he couldn’t remember the last time he ordered something other than Death After Noon. “Maybe I’m just feeling sentimental.”
“You? Sentimental?” Diluc snorted out, “I doubt it.”
Diluc didn’t bother to wait for a response from Kaeya, nor did Kaeya bother responding. Perhaps he was feeling a bit sentimental, although he supposed that was normal considering the state he was in. Humor this dying man’s feelings, Master Diluc. Kaeya thought to himself.
For the time being at least, Kaeya was left to his own devices. Diluc was inevitably pulled away from him by another patron down the bar. While he watched Diluc work he could almost see their- no, Diluc’s father working the bar. Master Crepus was no longer his to claim as a parent, Diluc made that exceptionally clear.
It was hard being in Angel’s Share sometimes.
Sometimes, not that he’d admit it to anyone, he could close his eyes and imagine a better world. Diluc would still be Cavalry Captain, happy in his position in life. Master Crepus would still be alive and well, running the winery. Would it still be Diluc’s in the end or would Crepus have gone through with his plans to leave it to Kaeya? He had no inheritance to speak of now at any rate. If it weren’t for that fateful night Master Crepus would probably still be alive; but he knew the man had been working on his will. Had he known how it would end? Kaeya suspected he had known what the delusion would eventually do to him.
He’d never shared his thoughts with Diluc. Master Crepus became one of those forbidden topics that would get him kicked from the Angel’s Share long before he was ready. Not that he had any right to speak on the man that was once his father.
Kaeya’s gaze never left his drink although he wasn't really touching it. He let his brain go blank as it all set in. He was dying. It slammed into him as hard as a mitachurl’s shield. Sure he could think of the future, he'd need to get a will settled and maybe help Jean find a replacement before he went; but it never truly occurred to him until now that this would be a future where he would not be around. Because he would be dead. Six feet under. Would he be allowed to see Master Crepus finally? Apologize for turning out to be an awful son, a chance to beg for forgiveness maybe.
Were sinners even allowed to see their old family members? He felt like there was a better chance that what was left of his spirit would be banished to the depths of the Abyss than to actually be allowed to reunite with lost loved ones. Clearly Mondstadt would get on just fine without him, would there be anyone in Teyvat or the Abyss left to mourn him? To miss him? He didn't think any of his birth family was still around, except his old man might still be kicking. He didn't think they'd want to see him in any afterlife. Deep down he didn't want to see them either.
They weren't really his family anymore. Kaeya's family was in the process of killing him slowly, leaving him a husk with rotting flowers growing out of him. Every harsh word, every rejection struck harder than any scar he had. Every feeling he had built up ever since he was abandoned on a random road in Mondstadt was validated, he didn't belong they hated him just end it now-
"-EYA!"
The shout of his name snapped him back to reality, making him jump, almost falling off the bar seat. Diluc was standing over his formerly hunched over form, now he was at full attention looking at his former brother. He didn't look pleased at Kaeya ignoring him, frowning and grumbling under his breath.
"If you're not enjoying your drink," Diluc started, glancing at his untouched dandelion wine, "Then perhaps its time to leave." Nevermind that the Angel's Share would typically remake or get a different drink of the patron did not enjoy the one they ordered. That policy had been in place for years, long before Kaeya was around. Granted, such rules never applied to Kaeya, he was lucky Diluc even let him into the place after he returned from his years abroad. He wouldn't complain, he would take what he was given and make it work.
"Are you implying that your drink is anything less than perfection?" Kaeya said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Maybe if he made Diluc angry he could see something other than the blank apathy that the other man usually gave him.
"I gave you exactly what you ordered," Diluc bit back, "Or perhaps you're done being 'sentimental'."
"I think I am." A lie, always a lie. Kaeya always had to be the liar anyway, what's one more?
Diluc glared at him but said nothing. Kaeya grabbed his barely touched glass and downed the whole thing in one go, slamming the glass back down on the counter when he was done. The taste was familiar, it reminded him of home and carefree summer days in the sun. Back when him and Diluc would run and play in the vineyards, chasing crystalflies and bugs hidden among the leaves. Their father and the staff watching from afar but letting them have their fun. Addie would always let out a good natured huff as they tracked mud and dirt into the house, much to Crepus' amusement.
Those days were long over, Master Crepus was gone and his son resembled nothing of the child he had once been. And Kaeya? He was little more than a rotting corpse. Kaeya wondered if Master Crepus would be ashamed of how his family had turned out after his death. Another thing to apologize for if Kaeya got to see him in the afterlife, if there was such a thing. It was all his fault they'd ended up like this after all.
"One more?" Kaeya asked his once-brother, holding the glass tilted towards Diluc who's arms were crossed behind the bar.
"I believe I said one, Sir Kaeya."
Sir Kaeya. Diluc used a title, just a way to enforce the distance between then. Just to remind him of the distance between them and the lives they lived now. Sir. The title of a Knight of Favonius. Diluc hated them to this day, and privately, Kaeya understood and agreed to an extent. They'd failed the Ragvindr clan greatly that day all those years ago. Kaeya's further involvement with the Knights probably just made it that much worse. He wondered if Diluc would soften on them after he was dead and buried. Kaeya doubted he'd ever rejoin, too much had happened for that. Would Diluc at least be more willing to lend them a hand? To look at them with something more than distaste once Kaeya no longer held a position of power?
"Oh you were being serious about just one? Hardly like yourself to turn down a paying customer," Kaeya challenged.
"You look no better than when you first got here," Diluc's glare never left him, "Now go home."
"I am perfectly fine! I've never been better in all my life!" Kaeya forced a smirk onto his face, slowly getting a rise out of Diluc was working.
"Are you listening to yourself? Did you break the only mirror you own or something?" Diluc scoffed and turned away from Kaeya, probably to force himself to calm down. Oh well, better luck next time. A huff came from the redhead. "Quit making trouble for everyone and go home."
Kaeya's thought process ended there. Making trouble? Him? Its all Kaeya seemed capable of doing these days. Quit making trouble. He's trying so hard not to, can't the esteemed Master Diluc see that? No he didn't see it, as long as Kaeya was still breathing he was still making trouble.
Well he wouldn't be causing trouble for anyone much longer. "Don't worry Master Diluc, I will cease causing you such 'trouble' as you put it, cross my heart." Kaeya dropped some coins on the bar and stood up to leave.
"I'm not holding my breath," Diluc said as Kaeya turned away. If only he knew, Kaeya thought.
Kaeya was alone again, silence hitting him once the door of his apartment shut behind him. A frequent occurrence these days, so far removed from his childhood surrounded by people. First in Khaenri’ah with everyone getting him ready for his “purpose” and then with the Ragvindrs, who always had someone on staff with them. Maybe that’s why he frequented Angel’s Share so much, it gave him the illusion that people cared for him. The illusion that was so deeply shattered now.
The alcohol at the very least, gave him a temporary reprieve from the coughing. The alcohol probably did enough damage to the flowers to temporarily stifle them down. Although now that he it had worked its way through his system, the coughs were slowly coming back in full force. There was an idea though, maybe keep a flask in his desk drawer or pocket or something. Keep these forsaken flowers down long enough to do his job, he'd worked while tipsy before he could do it again.
The familiar choking sensation hit the back of his throat, he forced himself to relax so he could get the stupid flower out faster. His body protested his attempts to calm himself, subconsciously panicking over his supposed choking. He sat on the floor, leaning against his couch as some final hacking coughs produced a flower. When the thing was finally out he let his head fall against the cushions of the couch. After he regained the energy to lift his head he expected to see another cecelia laying on the floor next to him.
Instead, there sat a stalk of small lamp grass.
Kaeya was almost in shock when he saw it. He didn’t even know that was possible, as far as he knew when someone had Hanahaki they coughed up one type of flower the entire time. If his memory served, usually a flower symbolizing something meaningful to the relationship that's being rejected. Like coughing up Mondstadt's archon's favorite flower. Can't get more symbolic than that. Although, since he was being rejected by the very city he’d sworn to love and protect, maybe it was only fitting that he coughed up multiple types of flowers beloved by his friends and family. How fitting, he turned his back on his birthplace for them, and in that betrayal, the home he chose turned their backs on him. There was no anger in this realization, at his murderers, just acceptance that this is how he would go.
Small Lamp Grass, Diluc’s favored flower. When he was a kid he always loved how it shone in the middle of the night. Master Crepus would always make sure a fresh bunch were in their rooms as a makeshift nightlight. Kaeya was never a fan of the dark after the night he was left out in the storm. He’d spent most of his childhood curled up with Diluc for warmth with that flower glowing in the corner. He eventually had grown out of that, and then further had to get used to the dark once Diluc kicked him out.
He may be an adult now but he wasn’t sure he ever really shook those childhood fears away. Just a child in an adult’s body, playing pretend that nothing phased him. Kaeya is sure he feels things as closely now as he did when he was a kid.
He hated being alone then. He still hates it now. Unfortunately, time has proven that he can’t let anyone in, that they’ll leave him in the end and he’ll be alone again.
Kaeya still remembered the day Father died painfully in the rain, put out of his misery by his now only son. The sick relief he had felt when he realized that the man who’d taken him in from the rain would never know what he was seemed so far away now. Then the painful realization that the man that raised him was gone. He’d never come back, he was alone again. He thinks it was that moment he decided to come clean to Diluc that night, to complete his punishment.
Looking back at his childhood felt like he was looking into someone else’s life, the carefree days he spent with Diluc were long gone.
He remembered being a child, his birth father walking away in the rain as he forced himself not to cry. At the time he wondered if the man was scared to leave his only child alone in a foreign land to fend for himself. Now he wondered if the man ever thought of him as anything more than a tool for Khaenri’ah’s goals. Some last hope he turned out to be.
Don’t leave me here all alone.
His pleas did nothing to sway his father to please take him back. He had spent many years hoping the man never came back and if he did he’d find his only son dead, the root cause starting with him all those years ago. May he never find out what he died from if only to spare him some dignity, even if he didn't deserve it. Hopefully his death would just get written off as a mysterious illness.
Kaeya coughed another piece of small lamp grass up.
Please. I don’t want to die.