Chapter Text
After a torturous yet infinitely rewarding four years at Natlan’s famous Kiongozi Arts University, Lumine was dreadfully homesick.
The past she’d buried for so long rose yet again like a zombie and she dreamed bittersweetly of her years in Liyue.
Natlan’s vibrant city life was overwhelming compared to the quiet countryside of her hometown in the outskirts of Chenyu Vale, and ironically, it made her feel lonelier. Her mom didn’t have a phone, saying it was a waste of time; and her old friends barely texted her.
But more than ever she wanted to return.
She had begun preparing to start a company based in Liyue, an art studio perhaps tucked beside Uncle Zhongli’s funeral parlor or by the famous Wanming restaurant (though she wondered if it was still there). Then she could finally return home.
So, once spring withered to an end, she threw her graduation cap high into the sky, hoping her mother had even caught a tiny glimpse of it, and then packed her suitcase to return to her beloved Qiaoying village.
Once she reached Liyue Harbor, she practically threw herself onto the small boats running back and forth to Chenyu Vale. Just as she went to board one, a familiar face jumped up behind her.
“Lumine!” A boyish grin met her eyes. The brunette held a colorful, masterfully crafted lion head upon his hip, eyes gleaming with familiarity.
“Gaming,” She waved.
“It’s been so long, Lumine! Oh, are you going back to Qiaoying village? I have a few packages to collect from there, let me accompany you.”
Lumine nodded quickly.
Reuniting with old friends that fate had set on separate paths was truly a privilege, and Lumine hoped to take full advantage of it.
Gaming looked much the same, with the exception of his hair— the bottom half was dyed a handsome maroon, a wish he’d held for his adult years when they were in high school. They chatted quietly, about college and Natlan, and the long boat ride in stifling summer shortened considerably.
From Yilong Wharf, they took a smaller motor boat through the significantly narrower Jingling River, and arrived at the outskirts of the village, where rows and rows of ripe, faint-smelling tea leaves greeted them.
Among the soothing aromas, there came sweet sweet Nostalgia, blanketing Lumine’s mind in a flurry of childhood remembrances— of her dashing through her parent’s small tea leaf farm, with her childhood best friend Xiao. Where was he now? She could only hope he was smiling as brightly as he did once upon a time.
She rushed down the paths with her bag in tow, bidding the buzzing Gaming farewell with a promise to a get-together dinner.
Suitcase clacking along the unkempt stone paths running around tea farms, houses and the occasional grocery store, she ran toward her house, the route returning to her mind with vivid clarity.
Her mother would be so happy to see her daughter come home with an art degree and a blossoming startup, at the ripe age of 22. She would smile, and it would satiate the guilty sickness welling up in Lumine’s stomach that reminded Lumine she could no longer recall a vivid memory of her mother’s radiant smile.
She was finally home, and that was more than enough.
But still, her heart was hollow because the other half of it had vanished along with the last wisps of cool wind from many springs ago— perhaps he went to Fontaine to continue training in acrobatics, but Lumine wished, selfishly, that he had stayed in Liyue, and they could meet once more.
His smile, not just radiant but contagious and painfully rare, struck her like the full moon, a gem among the speckled sky. Alas, this longing to see him once again was merely a wish, and wishes were for those who wanted to ignore reality.
Middle and high school students dotted the stone paths, their whispers of excitement and reprieve from school’s interminable hours flooding Lumine’s ears. School was no longer a concern to her, yet she couldn’t help but be jealous of their youth, and how they could still look forward rather than spend their days reminiscing.
But no matter, for she was almost at her house, and one beyond theirs was Uncle Zhongli’s (whom Xiao lived with).
She would see her mom sitting by the window, eating 馒头, her favorite doughy steamed buns, or perhaps sipping tea from the leaves left after picking season came and they returned from the market. Or perhaps she was chatting with Thoma, a young Inazuman farmer who helped them during picking season, and whom her mother had cared for like a son.
But the house was empty, and the windows were dark. Or perhaps she was out in the market with Thoma, for it was nearing picking season, or maybe she was watching Thoma work with his friends in her fields, or maybe…
Lumine’s mind started to swim. Her mother did none of that. She knew, but she wish she didn’t.
Lumine knocked their polished wooden door one last time.
The door still bore the scratches from years ago— when her and Xiao had haphazardly carved “divine blessings” into their door to ward off demons, bestowing the name “Alatus” upon Xiao (for Lumine had decided he had the demeanor of a spiritual protector, though she had never met one).
But only the marks of their innocent happiness remained, and she could feel it no more.
Her gut ached with worry. What had happened when she was gone? Was there a letter, lost somewhere at sea, which had failed to reach her and therefore failed to convey important information?
She sat down on the steps, and waited.
The sun was falling asleep. She got up from her misery, and decided to try Uncle Zhongli’s door, though she feared their conversation would be rocky and awkward.
Indeed, the light was on, and she hesitated at the door, thinking of a way to greet him. Before she could think of something to say that wasn’t “Hi Uncle Zhongli, where’s my mother?”, the door opened.
But it was not Uncle Zhongli. It was Xiao.
Notes:
also if you guys wanna know why i decided to start writing fics is cus THERES SO MANY WITH HORRIBLE SAD ENDINGS THAT MAKE ME BAWL MY FUCKING EYES OUT so i had to write my own that didn’t make me shit my pants after the last chapter. but anyways hope you guys enjoyed <3 (also fyi I’m still in school so once summer ends if this fic is not done I may have a hard time posting on a regular basis)
Things i made up in this chap:
Jing Ling river: it does not exist. I named the river after the chinese word 精灵 which means fairy. idk just thought it was cute
Chapter 2: Two
Summary:
In which xiao and lumine meet
Notes:
uhh i like pre wrote this on the notes app and it looked pretty long but now im just getting humbled
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
His golden eyes widened, a rare expression that never crossed his stoic face. Her grip on her suitcase tightened, and she forced her eyes down at his chest. Guilt wiggled in her chest like a ringworm.
“Alatus,” she whispered, using his sacred nickname, “I haven’t seen you in so long. You’ve… grown taller.”
“…yeah,” he said in return.
A moment passed, and he spoke up again.
“I’ve missed you.”
A slow smile spread her lips, but she couldn’t look up. “Me too.”
It was weird indeed; she used to be half a head taller than him, yet now here he stood, eyes slightly angled downward in order to meet hers.
“I thought you went to Fontaine to study acrobatics,” said Lumine, tone more cheerful than she’d intended it to be.
“Yeah, I got in, but I decided against it.”
“What?! Why?” Came the incredulous reply. If anyone knew how cut-throat universities were, it was her— she had sat through her, Xiao’s, and not to mention many of her friends’ applications.
“I wanted to stay here.” Lumine nodded. She should’ve stayed too. It would spared her the guilt and this horribly awkward conversation.
“Um. Come inside.” He held open the door and she rolled her suitcase in before promptly sitting herself down on the couch. The room smelled faintly of cedar wood and Qingxin flowers, and the guilty ringworm wiggled again.
“Sorry,” she muttered. She didn’t care if it sounded out of place. Her stomach hurt and her eyes latched onto the scraped wooden floor and she had to tell him because it scared her to let go again.
“What?”
“Sorry, Xiao.”
Silence.
“Don’t be sorry, it’s late, so you can sleep here for now.”
“…I’m not talking about that.”
“I know.”
They sat in silence, like they used to when they counted the stars on the small hill beside the village. But this silence was suffocating, and there were no stars. But at least he was here again, at least he looked at her. She could not even muster the courage.
“Uh, your mom,” Xiao started. She heard his feet shifting behind her.
“My mom?”Then she remembered, her mom was not home. Then her stomach started aching again, and she wished, wished that it was not what she thought it was—
“Lumine…”Xiao took a deep breath. “Aunt Lila—your mom, she’s… in critical condition, and she’s in the mainland hospital.”
“What?” She stood up suddenly to face him. And now he couldn’t look at her.
“When was this? How long was she hospitalized?”
Xiao opened and then closed his mouth.
“Xiao! Tell me! Why didn’t anybody tell me?!” She knew he hated being yelled at, she knew better than anyone. So why was she being so brash?
“It was… for a year or two now,” came the meek reply. “I’m sorry, Lumine, we didn’t know how to reach you—”
“What about my number? Didn’t I give it to you?”
Without waiting for a response, Lumine shook her head and turned around.
“I…I have to go. I have to go find her now.”
“Wait, Lumine, let’s go tomorrow, the sky’s dark now and it’s unsafe—”
“Sorry, I’ll be back soon.”
Lumine hastily picked up her suitcase and rushed back out the door, hoping that there was still a ferry running to Liyue Harbor.
She briefly scolded herself for making such an embarrassing and disrespectful scene in front of someone she should be smiling and laughing with right now, but she was worried, painfully so. Because of a foolish promise from eleven years ago. Because she was afraid her life would fall apart all over again.
It was late in the night when Lumine arrived back at Liyue Harbor.
She made her way from the docks and to the streets, feet dragging along the path and eyelids threatening to close.
It had been so long since she stepped foot in the bustling streets of Liyue. In four years’ time, the city had grown. Buildings occupied previously thick grassland, and tall, well-kept storefronts and food stands dotted Liyue city, sparkling lights and glowing restaurant windows uncovering the roads from where the darkness previously swallowed them.
But still, much was the same, just as Lumine remembered it.
The city smelled just as she remembered, delicious scents wafting across the lively streets, even in the wee hours of night.
The people stayed much the same as well— good-tempered, friendly, and unreasonably strict when dealing with bargainers— albeit their numbers had grown and the harbor rocked under the weight of packed sidewalks and chaotic merchants.
In the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her favorite Liyuen delicacy— 地瓜球, sticky, earthy, deep fried sweet potato balls. Seeing these made her heart ache, and awoke in her a subtle memory of an innocent promise, no doubt long forgotten by him.
Holding three sweet potato balls in a small paper bag, its wafting steam warming her hands, she made her way to Liyue’s Mainland Hospital building.
It was still brightly lit, and when she stepped inside she was suddenly snapped back awake by the stinging cold air.
The woman at the reception counter greeted her, and asked her for her name before leading her to her mother’s room.
It was quiet in there, dreadfully so— apart from the steady whirring of the air conditioning and the soft beeping of the heartbeat monitor, her mother uttered no sound.
Her breathing was soft, and Lumine inched closer to hear it, because without it Lumine was too afraid.
When the sun had barely awoken, she was ushered out of her mother’s room along with her suitcase. She sat on a bench, dazed, sleepy.
Xiao was there outside.
You should come back to Qiaoying Village, take a rest, Xiao said, and Lumine barely registered his words, eyelids still glued together and neck aching from her awkward sleeping position.
I don’t have the keys to your house, but you can come over if you’d like. My dad will be out for a while. We can come back tomorrow to visit.
Lumine nodded, and allowed Xiao to take her suitcase and heft her onto his back.
I remember when I carried you like this after you fell asleep on the beach, Lumine whispered.
Hm. I remember as well, Xiao replied, voice soft.
In Xiao’s arms, Lumine felt hazy again, and allowed herself to drift back to sleep.
Lumine woke up to the smell of cedar wood and Qingxin.
She had not slept much, and she could feel summer just around the corner. When she awoke it was still early in the morning, but the sun beat down from her window and a sheen of sweat engulfed her weary body.
She couldn’t close her eyes again knowing the sun was already up, and her mother was still delicately hanging onto life. She swung her legs over the bed and went to get changed.
After her shower, Xiao was in the kitchen, eating his favorite cereal. A faint smile graced her lips.
“You still eat that every morning?” Xiao flinched and looked up.
“Yeah. It’s simple, and I can’t cook. Why are you up so early? You barely slept.”
“You too.”
Silence ensued. Lumine and Xiao used to be quiet too, but usually Lumine had more to say to him.
And usually Guilt the Ringworm would be dormant, but right now Lumine could think of nothing to say but to apologize over and over again. And this was awkward. Painfully so. So she walked over to the fridge.
“I’ll make something.”
“I don’t have anything.”
Lumine sighed, closing the refrigerator door in defeat before sitting across from Xiao.
“…You should eat too.” He said, eyes looking down at his cereal.
“I’m not hungry. I’ll buy some groceries later when I go to the hospital.”
“Thanks.”
She flexed her hands and curled them up, and then flexed them out again. She wanted to ask.
He was looking at her hands. He knew she had something to say. Some things just never change, she mused.
“Come.” She muttered under her breath, as if to herself.
“Hm?”
“Come with me. To go see my mom.” Heat spiraled on her cheeks. He had no obligation to her desires, and they were so awkward already, yet here she was being foolish and selfish because she didn’t want to go alone.
“…Okay.”
The boat ride had been awkward, but it all fell away from Lumine’s mind when she saw her mother. Xiao pulled up two chairs and they sat by her bed.
“You can hear her breathing, but it’s so faint,” she told Xiao. He nodded.
“I heard she’s in some sort of paralysis. She can hear her surroundings, but she can’t do anything about it. She must feel… lonely.”
“Yeah.” Lumine sighed, and reached out to her mother’s wrinkling hand. “I hope she knows that she will never be alone.”
A moment of silence passed. It was almost unbearable for Lumine, so how much worse was it for her mother, who could do nothing but hope for anything, anyone to break the silence? To prove that she wasn’t all by herself?
“Let’s talk about something. What can we talk a lot about?” Lumine asked Xiao.
He almost smiled. “I remember you said something like that when we first met in elementary.”
It was too much. Too much reminded her of her childhood, and it blossomed in her stomach like a weed. But now she wanted to remember, to reminisce, to move on. Because even after all this time, after growing up and telling herself to bury it all away, it seemed she still was the only one that clung so tightly to the past.
Notes:
ok u can probably tell this is the last chapter before i start yapping about their elementary, middle and high school experience so. ALSO WHY TF ARE MY CHAPTERS SO SHORT istg they looked hella long in the notes app
Chapter 3: Three
Summary:
in which xiao and lumine are being innocent cuties
Notes:
first three chapters mass production and next chapter will probably be a while cus im supposed to be working on another writing thing but xiaolumi…. AGH
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lumine hated summer.
It leeched into blossoming spring, sticky, humid hands grasping at flowers, devouring the twittering birds and gentle, brushing wind, and turning the sun toward the people, leaving the land sunken with suffocatingly warm rain and cicadas lamenting in interminable cacophony.
And, there were mosquitoes. Lots of them.
They followed her like fervent worshippers, grasping at her knees and arms and frankly every inch of her skin.
But that was only when she went frolicking in her mother’s tea farm or in the fields of lush grass or on the little hill overlooking their village.
So in the summer, she sulked in the sandy streets and sat on the steps while watching merchants go by, flaunting their fake jewelry and abundant snacks that her mom had forbid her to get on a daily basis.
But Lumine also loved summer.
Sometimes her best friend and brother, Aether, would come out and steal her hairpin, and she would run after him and tackle him by the river.
Then they would forget, about the mosquitoes and the boiling sun and the hairpin, and wade into the cool waters, kicking their feet and splashing each other.
Sometimes Aether would get annoyed, because the braid that held his wily hair together had come undone, and he would then demand Lumine to redo it for him.
Sometimes they splashed until they got tired, and then chased each other back into the house.
Everyday called for a new adventure and time was such a useless concept, for their joy was timeless.
“Aether, look, I caught two fireflies!” Lumine held the jar up to her brother’s face.
He immediately snatched it from her, his golden eyes even brighter with the light of the glowing creatures. She could tell, he was fascinated. She loved when she could surprise him like this.
“These two fireflies… are like the two of us.” He looked up and smiled at her. She smiled back.
Then his smile turned mischievous, and he ran off with the jar in hand.
“Catch me if you can, Lu!” He called, running towards the stream.
“Hey! That’s not fair!” She yelled, pouncing after him.
He ran over the dirt, the grass, and the little gopher’s hole. She ran after him, over the dirt, the grass— and her foot caught on the gopher hole, sending her plummeting down towards the grainy dirt. Her knee scraped over a small rock, and she cried out in pain.
“Lu!” Aether, who always outran her but somehow always managed to stay within her vision, turned back and crouched above her, firefly jar set beside him.
He rushed to help her up, braid swinging behind his back.
He brought her to the nearby stream, cupped some water in his hands and poured it across her bleeding knee.
“Sorry,” he muttered, concern etched in his bright expression. “Here, you can have your firefly jar back, okay?”
He slung her arm around his shoulder as they limped back, all the while Lumine cursed at the gopher hole and Aether, prompting laughter.
Aether, Lumine and their mother, Lila, were originally from Mondstat, the region bordering Liyue.
But their father, drunk on fame and fortune, dragged them to Liyue for the booming economy and lofty promises of wealth, and in his blind pride, hopped on a ship promising a giant bounty, only to never return.
But hardworking Lila became the breadwinner of their family, and integrated her and her two children into the warm community of a small village in Chenyu Vale, a calm and lushly majestic land beside the heart of Liyue.
Here, she cultivated tea leaves (a famous crop of Chenyu Vale) and learned from her neighbors, establishing a small plantation under her name.
Though she was an outlander, nobody really considered her one; she read and spoke Liyuen well, and never treated anyone out of line. Lumine and Aether proved to be just as respectful, though perhaps a little more curious.
“Lu! Come over here,” Aether waved her over.
The cicadas were deafening today, but maybe it was because they were so close to them.
Lumine knew they hid in leaves and in the bark, but she’d never seen them before. She wondered what they looked like while she ran over to her brother, who was crouching above an upturned leaf.
Aether motioned for her to look. On the leaf, a dead cicada lay with its belly up. Lumine could see the legs tucked under its oval-shaped belly, striped with hints of yellow. She instantly recoiled.
“Ew, Aether, is that a cicada?!” Aether laughed at her disgust.
“Yeah. I found it dead here, and turned it over with that leaf.”
He used the leaf to pick it up, and pretended to throw it at Lumine, who let out a scream and scrambled to hide behind a faraway rock.
Aether’s laughter pierced through the deafening buzzing of the fat cicadas. Lumine smiled too. It was so contagious.
And with Aether’s laughter mixed with hers, they spent her summers of youth living in their own world.
But it all went by too fast. One day, Aether was laughing like a clown with Lumine in tow, and the next he was coughing up crimson tears, he was heaving as if the air around him had become suddenly unreachable.
Then he was no longer laughing alongside Lumine, and no longer running.
These days, when Lumine sulked out on the front step and the air was suffocatingly warm, Aether was stuck indoors. Mom said he was very sick, and told her not to worry.
But he was sick last week, and the week before, and the week before that. He was sick the whole summer. And she missed him. She wondered how he didn’t get tired of being sick. Maybe she’d go sneak into his room while Mom wasn’t looking.
Suddenly, as if sensing her plans, her mother appeared behind her with a bag of three delicious steamed rice cakes.
“Don’t just sit here, go make some friends. School is starting soon. I heard there’s a nice boy that moved in just next door. Why don’t you go bring these to him?” She said, waving the bag in front of Lumine’s face.
“But I don’t wanna.”
Last time she’d been tasked to make friends, she’d come across this annoyingly loud boy called Gaming who followed her like a mosquito and wouldn’t shut up.
She had told Aether this through the crack in the door, and heard him chuckle softly before it turned into a deafening cough.
Hm. Maybe she should go find this ‘nice boy’. Then she could make an excuse to go talk to Aether. Giving in, she took the bag of rice cakes and went to knock on the neighbor’s door.
A tall man with a thin braid running down his back answered the door. His hair was brown, and he smelled of cedar wood and some refreshing flowery scent.
“Hi, little lady. Are you looking for Xiao?”
His voice was deep, soothing.
“Yeah. My mom asked me to give him these because I have no friends. I live next door.” She said matter-of-factly, showing the calm and good-smelling man her bag of rice cakes.
He chuckled. Then, a tuft of black hair appeared from behind him.
“Xiao, why don’t you introduce yourself to…?”
“Hi Xiao, I’m Lumine. I live next door.” Aether would be jealous of how swiftly she’d introduced herself.
“I’m Xiao.” The boy said, stepping out from behind the tall man. He accepted the rice cakes, then looked behind Lumine.
Curious, she looked behind her shoulder as well. It was Mom.
“Hello Zhongli, Xiao,” Lumine’s mother greeted them both, smiling fondly, “Zhongli, I haven’t seen you in so long. Mind if we come in for a second?”
The calm man suddenly looked excited, and ushered them both in for a pot of tea.
The adults chattered endlessly, and Lumine watched while Xiao chewed on his rice cake. He was relatively silent, and so Lumine decided that she liked him more than Gaming.
But he ate so slowly, and she was bored.
“Do you wanna go see something cool?” She asked him. He hesitated, then looked at Mr. Zhongli, who gave him a prompt nod before turning back to Lumine’s mother.
“Okay.”
He followed closely behind as she walked swiftly out of the village and toward the river. They stopped on the pebble beach, and listened to the burbling of the water.
Lumine picked up a rock, and skipped it across the clear surface of the river. She turned to look at Xiao, eyes sparkling.
“Did you see that? My brother taught me.”
“Cool.” Xiao picked up a rock, and tried to skip it.
“You have to throw it underhand, and horizontally,” she instructed.
“Okay.” He picked up another rock. And another and another, and soon he was skipping it one or two times.
Lumine sat next to him, enjoying his soft presence. He wasn’t that bad.
“Do you wanna be my friend?” She asked, looking up at him, while he was still skipping rocks. He was diligent.
He looked down at her, slightly surprised, a rock in his hands. Then a small smile stretched his lips.
“Okay.”
Later, they went back to Mr. Zhongli’s house, and he promised to come over every day next week (the week after that was when fifth grade would start). Once she returned home, she bolted to Aether’s door and told him about Xiao.
He didn’t make any snide remarks, and only listened. Lumine wondered if he was asleep.
“When you get better, you can meet him, okay? Then we can all play together.” She said, her back resting on his door.
A few moments passed, and Lumine got slightly annoyed, wondering if she spoke all of that just for him to be asleep.
“Okay. But… don’t leave me for him, okay? We’re still best friends, right?” He never said things like this. Why did he sound so hopeless? He was just sick.
“Duh. I just met him today. Also, you’re more fun.”
“Okay. Good.”
Then he coughed and she heard something gurgle in the back of his throat, and Lumine had to go get mom.
The following days, Lumine woke up earlier than she usually would and ran over to Mr. Zhongli’s house, where Xiao was already waiting on the steps, always drawing in the dirt road with a twig.
They then went to all of Lumine’s favorite spots— the small clearing by the blackberry shrubs, the riverbed, the neighbor’s house with five ducklings, Mr. Thoma’s backyard, the corner where a stray cat she and Aether had named Luther (Aether’s and Lumine’s names combined), and the small abandoned shrine hidden in the thicket by the hill.
The sun was as unbearable as ever, but Lumine barely noticed.
Halfway through the week, Lumine went to find him again, but he wasn’t drawing on the floor anymore. He was reading a book with large Liyuen letters printed vertically on its pages.
“Xiao, whatcha reading?” Lumine took a seat next to him, and peered over his shoulder.
“Book,” he replied, “it’s about the protectors of Liyue called Adepti. But it’s just a myth.”
Reading over his shoulder, Lumine’s eyes widened with fascination.
“This is so cool,” she whispered, taking the book from his hands, “wow, what’s a Sigil of Permission? Woah, look at this illustration. It looks special. Oh and, there’s Alatus, Indarias, Bo…Bosacius…” she flipped through the pages.
“It says that if you carve the blessings of the Adepti into your door, the adepti will protect you for as long as the markings remain.” Xiao, seemingly captivated by her childish curiosity, indulged her fantasies even after dismissing the story as a work of fiction.
Lumine jumped up.
“Let’s try on my door.” she pulled out a sharp stick Aether had given her last summer that she kept with her at all times. “Can you get the illustration? I’ll copy it onto the door.”
And so they spent there morning, crouched at Lumine’s front door, scrawling ‘divine blessings’ on the door that really just resembled bad Liyuen handwriting.
Once they were finished, Lumine dusted her hands off and Xiao grimaced.
“It doesn’t look like the one in the book,” he said, running his hand over the markings.
“Yes it does,” she retorted, “and my hands are sore from doing all that. I worked pretty hard on it, so you better thank me.”
“I didn’t ask you to do it.” He smiled slightly. She smiled back. Contagious.
“It’s just as Aether says: when you’re having fun, you don’t notice time ticking by,” she’d told Xiao as they lay on the grass of the knoll behind their houses, looking up at the constellations Lumine had just pointed out.
“You talk about your brother a lot.” Xiao noted.
“Yeah. He doesn’t come out because mom says he’s super sick, and he coughs a lot too, and it sounds pretty scary.” She almost felt sad, but then was distracted by yet another constellation.
“Look, Alatus. That one looks like a bird. My brother showed me that.”
“That’s just ‘cause you connected a bunch of stars together to form a bird.”
“Oh yeah.” Lumine paused. “…I wish I were a bird.”
Xiao sighed. “Is it because your brother wishes he were a bird too?”
“…yeah. But I wish he was a bird too. Then he wouldn’t be cooped up all day.”
It was silent, but it was comforting, because the stars were hugging her vision and a hand had creeped into hers.
Notes:
hope u guys enjoyed and i tried to write from a more innocent pov tell me if i can improve it :)
Chapter 4: Four
Summary:
in which angst happens
Notes:
ok i know i said this chapter would take a while but the motivation is still fresh so i ended up finished much faster than i planned :) enjoy
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was midnight, and Lumine desperately craved a glass of water.
She crept out her door, and headed to the kitchen, when she heard low voices coming from Aether’s door. It was her mother. She creeped closer, wondering why her mother was up so late, and what prompted her to do so.
“This isn’t fair,” a small voice said, muffled by the door.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I talked to the doctor, and he said to take these pills everyday, and you’ll be back to normal in no time.” Lumine heard a small clinking sound of pills.
“But so much time has already passed,” the weak voice said.
“Healing is a gradual process, you need to be—“
“But I haven’t gotten any better!” It was a raspy, desperate sound, that voice; and Lumine’s eyes watered at the sound of it. It no longer sounded like the voice that just held so much mirth and fervor and curiosity; it was splintered now.
It was fading.
What could possibly combat her brother’s spirit, blow out that crackling fire that burned in his stomach and seeped warmth into hers when she looked through his eyes?
It was slipping through her hands, she knew, but like water, no matter how tightly she cupped her hands around it, it still would find a way to slowly, slowly wiggle its way out until she realized that it was all gone.
And then she no longer needed water, because a salty ocean brewed in her vision, and dripped down her chin.
Mom was singing him a lullaby, but her soothing voice could not calm that dreadful, dreadful knot in Lumine’s stomach.
Where was Aether going? If he was slowly disappearing, where to?
She knew it wasn’t Death. Her brother couldn’t die. He was too bright to succumb to darkness.
Lumine and Xiao went into Xiao’s room, looking for the Adepti book to perform the same ritual on Xiao’s door. But something else caught her eye.
“Wow, that flower is so pretty.” Four soft white flowers connected by one stem stood in a glassy vase by the window, petals like snow. A leaf stuck out of the side, verdant green.
Lumine put her nose to it. So that’s the flowery smell that blanketed their house, thought Lumine.
“Where’d you find this flower?” She turned to Xiao, who was watching her from by the bookshelf.
“It’s called a Qingxin. It’s from the mainland.”
“Whaat? How is it still alive?” She asked, poking the petal.
“My dad goes to the mainland sometimes, and he just went last weekend.”
“Can you tell him to get one for me? Next time he goes?”
Xiao nodded. Then he flopped down onto his bed.
“What?” Lumine looked at him.
“I know you’re doing this all for your brother.” He said, voice muffled by the blanket. Lumine didn’t try to deny it.
“You’re acting so old, Lumine.”
“What does that mean?”
“I… had a brother once. We were orphans, and it wasn’t very nice in the orphanage. I always took care of him, but he was always sad. And he ran away and left me.” Lumine didn’t know what to say, so she left her pretty flower and sat next to Xiao, hand patting his back.
“And I was sad too. I wanted to run away from my life. But Mr. Zhongli came and found me, and taught me to be a child. Because I only knew how to hide my feelings.” He looked up at Lumine, eyes like full moons boring into hers.
“So don’t be so sad, Lumine. Don’t act so old. Don’t hide. Don’t forget to cry and be angry, because otherwise you’ll get old faster.”
“You’re the one being old right now.”
“I’m just sharing wisdom. I am five days older.”
Lumine smiled, relieved, understood. “Thanks, Alatus.”
Fifth grade was just like fourth and third, but Aether wasn’t there.
They couldn’t make flower crowns together, or do somersaults in the grass, or pass notes in class. But Lumine was never left without things to do, because Xiao did all those things with her.
They also did other things that Xiao enjoyed: watching the birds, reading, and stretching, apparently because he wanted to get into gymnastics.
After school they would do homework leaning against Aether’s door, and often Lumine would talk to him and Xiao would too.
But now mom was always there with Aether inside, and always looked so tired, so Lumine couldn’t badmouth Gaming, whose chirpy attitude made her go insane, or Hutao, whose fascination with horror stories at such a young age was unnerving.
Lumine set her backpack down by Aether’s door, and Xiao did the same. Then, they pulled out their math textbooks and Lumine let out a giant sigh.
“Aether, you don’t even wanna see these horrible math problems. I’m gonna go cray-cray,” she said, hitting her head against the door as she slid onto the floor.
“Still as dumb as ever,” came the soft reply. Lumine smiled to herself, and Xiao coughed, hiding a small laugh.
“Shut up,” Lumine said softly, hitting her head against the door again. “I would come tackle you if it weren’t for this door in the way.”
His bright laughter was duller, fragiler now, but it still filled Lumine with the same sense of completion.
“Oh, Alatus, tell Aether about the Qingxin flowers your dad gets. I’ll get a head start on my math homework so I can beat you this time.”
“Hum, I doubt the head start will do you any good, but sure.” Xiao put down his paper and looked up at the ceiling, recalling the sweet scent of Qingxin for Aether, how they kept it in a vase in his room, and where his father would purchase it.
By the time he was done talking, Lumine was halfway through the worksheet.
“Keep talking, Alatus,” she said, frustrated, “I can’t beat you if I’m still only halfway through the worksheet.”
Aether and Xiao shared a quiet laugh, and Lumine’s chest throbbed.
If only this stupid sickness hadn’t taken Aether away from her. If only those pills worked faster.
The divine blessings on her door didn’t look like they were working at all, so Lumine closed her eyes and sent a quick prayer to the Adepti.
Summer melted into autumn and autumn froze into winter, and Lumine discovered another passion of Xiao’s: lying in the snow. So they made snow angels everywhere they went, even when the snow was thin and the grass started poking out from behind it.
The snow was melting, and next week would be spring break.
Sitting on their favorite hill, Lumine scooped up some of the remaining snow on the grass and made a small snowman.
“I’m gonna give this to Aether, ‘cause he skipped his favorite season.”
“It’s gonna melt,” came the reply from Xiao, still lying in the snow, swinging his arms and legs, making yet another snow angel.
“I’ll put it outside his window, and he’ll see. Wait here.” Lumine rushed down to her house with the snowman in her hands, the air crisp in her nose, and knocked on Aether’s window.
“Open up, Aether,” she shouted through the glass.
An eye peeked out of the closed curtains. She held up the small snowman triumphantly, a big smile plastered across her face because she knew her brother would stick his whole face out the window and smile back.
But he didn’t.
His eye scrunched up, as if he couldn’t see. Then he looked at her, and suddenly he looked so sad. And then the curtains closed, and his beautiful eye disappeared.
Not even a laugh, not even a crinkle of his eye. She didn’t understand.
“It’s a snowman, I made it for you!” She shouted into the glass again. Silence.
She didn’t understand.
Xiao could see it when she plopped down beside him a few moments later.
“What happened?” He got up from his position in the snow, bringing his knees up and hooking his arms around his legs.
“My brother didn’t say anything.”
She threw the snowman down the hill, watching the head split off the body and the little snow crumbs roll down after it.
“Hey, why’d you do that?”
“Because… my brother isn’t the same anymore.”
Her hands balled up into fists, and her eyes became hot, warming her eyes against the cold air. A familiar hand wrapped around hers, and she lie down onto the melting snow, wondering if things would ever be the same again.
Spring break was three days away. Lumine and Xiao sat theirselves at Aether’s door like always, but this time it was their reading homework.
“Ugh, Aether, the weather’s sunny and there’s still snow outside, and our teacher is forcing us to read this?” He would’ve laughed, maybe even a little, or risked a small cough just to brighten up her mood.
But he didn’t. She felt Xiao’s worried gaze on her.
“Aether?”
He shifted in the bed to show her that he was awake.
Her shoulders relaxed a bit, and she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
But why wouldn’t he speak? Was he lonely, angry, jealous? She set the thought aside for now. Right now, she was with him, and that alone brought her comfort.
“Okay. I’m gonna read this out loud so prepare to fall asleep.” She swallowed back the tears lodged in her throat.
Today Lumine sat on the grass, fingers threading through the dirt, searching for beetles. Xiao crouched beside her with a leaf. A few feet away stood a shovel, planted head-first into the dirt and completely disregarded.
“Nothing,” Lumine hit the ground with her hands in defeat.
“Why do you want to find a beetle?” Xiao asked, head resting on his knees.
“So I can show Aether. He said I can’t find beetles by myself. He says I’m not smart enough to.”
Xiao hummed. “They usually live under things like rocks and leaves.”
So they scavenged under the rocks and the fallen leaves, straying farther and farther from their shovel until finally they came across a shiny black insect.
Lumine whooped with triumph, and used the leaf Xiao was holding to pick the beetle up before dumping it into a small container. She grabbed Xiao’s wrist and they headed back to Aether’s window.
Today the sky was bright with sunshine, so there was a small crack left open in the window, though the curtains were still closed.
“Aether,” Lumine said softly, “look what I got.”
His eye appeared at the window, looking at Lumine, then at Xiao.
Lumine held up the container with the beetle in it, its shiny black armor glinting in the morning sun.
“It’s a beetle. You said I couldn’t catch one by myself. But look, I did.” She smiled at his eye.
For a while, he didn’t say anything, only stared at the small beetle scuttling around the container. Then he looked back at Xiao, then at Lumine, before slowly withdrawing from the window.
“Hey, Aether, come back!”
Lumine put her face to the window and tried to peer inside. Aether made no move to respond.
“Aether!” She tapped the glass.
She didn’t want him to force her away like that, because then she knew too little. And that used to never be the case with Aether.
“You’re growing up without me,” he said, after a few glass taps later.
Her finger on the glass dropped down and clenched into a fist. Why was it that he talked like this as of late, as if she didn’t visit him every day and bring him beetles and snowmen and stories? Why was it that he was so hopeless? Why was there suddenly so much she couldn’t understand about him?
“I’m not,” she cried, “I’m still growing up alongside you, but you keep pushing me away!”
It was silent again, but this silence did not come to pass. So she left with tears rolling down her cheeks, but the hand that wrapped around hers could not bring her comfort anymore.
“Mom, when will Aether get better?”
It was a question she asked a lot, and the reply was always drained of energy and hope.
“Soon, he’ll be much much better. Don’t you worry.”
But soon was never soon enough, and better was never better enough.
Her mom had left Thoma and his friends to take care of her fields, and was never home, always on some odd job.
Mr. Zhongli came by often, carrying pills and a sad smile.
Aether’s voice sounded more and more fragile, and on the rare occasions where she caught a glimpse of him, he seemed to be getting thinner and thinner.
But she could only hope.
Because she still believed.
Because she still didn’t understand.
After the first day of spring break, Xiao left to go home and so Lumine returned home as well.
In the kitchen, her mother was sobbing into her sweater, and Mr. Zhongli sat by her side, patting her back and uttering words of comfort.
Lumine didn’t know what to do, so she stood there. Her mother, upon seeing her, stood up and came over to her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice choking in a way Lumine had never heard before. She pulled Lumine tight against her shivering chest, whispering apologies.
“Sorry for what?”
Lumine was scared. Her mother never cried, because there was little to cry about.
She had a beautiful tea leaf plantation, kind neighbors, and two respectful children. So one of these things must have been lost. What could— then she turned, and she bolted for Aether’s door.
These past few months, he’d uttered barely a word to her. Perhaps because she was always talking, or because she was always outside playing.
Or, because he couldn’t anymore.
No matter how hard he tried.
“Lumine!” Her mother came after her.
She opened the door. In the haunting glow of moonlight, there lay Aether, skin clinging to his bones, eyes unseeing. In his golden eyes was the moon, but there was nothing else.
They were wide, like when she’d surprised him with the fireflies, like when they were bright with fascination. Now they stood just as wide, but it wasn’t his innocent, beautiful curiosity; they were glassy, a cruel parody of the life that once brewed like the afternoon sun.
The happiest soul she knew suddenly without an expression, basked in the moon’s brightest glow yet soul hollowed and eroded.
Gone.
Her breath caught in her throat, her mind swam, her stomach seethed with pain.
She was blind.
So blind.
So blind.
It was all wrong.
He was always so vibrant, lively, chasing her around with a bright smile that rivaled a million stars.
And then he was gone, and it was all so awfully wrong.
Swept away like dust by Death’s soothing winds, lulled into a sleep he could not conquer. Slowly, slowly, disappearing, dying like a flower.
It wasn’t fair.
If she’d known, if only she’d known, then she would’ve stayed by his bed forever.
She would’ve told him all about school and life and the seasons and the weather.
She wouldn’t have yelled at him, she would’ve been patient, and she would’ve loved him forever and ever and never let him feel sad.
There were so many things she would have done, but Time doesn’t care how many things should have been done. It drags you along and away, reminding you of all you’ve lost, but not once looking back.
She couldn’t cry when she saw him.
She couldn’t cry when her mother held her and they sat on the floor.
She couldn’t cry when they buried him among the flowers they once made crowns out of.
She also couldn’t cry when Xiao hugged her for the first time.
Because his smile still lingered in her mind, and his hands on her head, and his beautiful, bright eyes comforting her, telling her Lu, don’t cry. But then when she collapsed on her bed and saw the full moon mocking her she cried and cried, over everything she’d done and everything she hadn’t.
Never, ever again, would his warm arms embrace her body like they used to, or would his genuine smile bloom under her gaze.
And never again, no matter how many moons passed, how many suns rose or how many picking seasons came, would he be by her side, like he was once upon a time.
Notes:
btw the sickness Aether had is tuberculosis but idk if its that evident lmao
Chapter 5: Five
Summary:
in which lumine is confused
Chapter Text
For the rest of fifth grade, she didn’t go to school. She stayed back, sulking, crying, sometimes helping Thoma take care of the fields in order to get things off her mind.
Mr. Zhongli and Gaming’s mother always came over to take care of her and her mother. Xiao visited her on Saturdays. They started going to a therapist. Summers became tedious and suffocating.
But Saturdays were always soothing.
Xiao and Lumine sat on their hill gazing at the stars, but for once Lumine had nothing to say. Everything in the stars reminded her of Aether.
“Look.” Xiao stubbornly grabbed her wrist to get her attention. He pointed to three bright stars, and connected them with his fingers.
“It’s a triangle. A triangle constellation.”
Lumine looked at it. She would’ve laughed, but she was too tired to.
“That’s really dumb, Xiao.”
He went silent. Lumine thought for a second that he might have felt hurt, but before she could turn her head to look at him he pointed to another constellation that didn’t exist.
“Look at that one then. It’s a square— no, a parallelogram.”
Lumine coughed, a tiny smile in her eyes.
“Constellations are supposed to be creative and mystical. Not math terms.”
“No, the stars can be whatever you want them to be.”
“Hm.”
“Happy birthday.” Xiao handed her a Qingxin.
It was peculiar; even Lumine had forgotten about her own birthday. Birthdays, something she would always spend with her brother, now were too painful, as were a multitude of other things.
But Xiao was the opposite of her brother, and that was why she felt so at ease with him. It wasn’t painful listening to him, because he reminded her of breezy summers and lying in the snow, and not of someone buried in the dirt.
But in this moment Xiao’s attentiveness reminded her of his, so instead of taking the Qingxin, she looked at the ground where their feet stood facing each other.
She’d said nothing for his birthday, even though she knew which day it was.
But still he gave her a Qingxin on hers.
It was annoying, how caring, how good he was. If only she was half as good as Xiao when her brother was alive.
Then sixth grade came along, and her mother and therapist recommended she return to school. Half of the healing process was about moving on, as her therapist had said, and she needed a distraction. Her mother also briefly affirmed that middle school was very important for her well-being.
Lumine agreed, only to be strong for her mother.
Because she knew that her mother suffered from a scary, scary thing called depression.
When summer break came to an end but the sticky, humid air still lingered, Lumine put on her backpack and her shoes, walking out the door, before turning back to look at her mother.
“Mom, you have to promise. You can’t leave me alone, too, okay?”
Her mother was tired, bags hung under her eyes, and her smiles were rare. When they did grace her features, Lumine found them always super sad-looking. Lumine hated that. So she had to make sure.
“Of course, honey. Now get to school, Xiao must be waiting.”
Indeed, Xiao, with teal undertones now complimenting his black hair, was sitting on the bench by the corner where Luther used to sleep, but this time Luther sat curled up next to Xiao.
“Alatus,” Lumine called, and Xiao’s head jerked up. She waved tentatively. He waved back, looking relieved that she was here without her signature red-rimmed eyes. Luther got up and jumped off the bench to circle her ankles.
“You dyed your hair,” Lumine pointed out, touching his hair, “It looks nice.”
“Thanks. Gaming recommended it.”
“Since when did he have taste?” Xiao coughed at this, his subtle way of laughing.
“Hm. I don’t know.”
They walked down the road, crumby rocks crunching under their feet while merchants advertised special deals and cheap prices. Lumine felt her stomach grumble.
“Let’s get some sweet potato balls,” said Lumine, already heading toward a stand by the road, just a few hundred feet away from their school.
“Okay.” Xiao watched while Lumine fumbled out coins, in exchange for five round yellow balls in a small paper bag. Steam rose angrily out of the bag. She took a small bite, and though it was too hot to properly taste, she still savored it hungrily.
Then, Lumine extended her fist to Xiao, with her pinky upright.
“Promise me, Alatus, after we graduate high school you’ll buy me ten of these.”
“Okay.”
They hooked pinkies.
Fortunately, Xiao and Lumine ended up in the same class, but her other friends from fifth grade (who were really just Gaming and Hu Tao) had not been so lucky. They were in the class across the hall.
But this year, new kids joined their class from all across Teyvat.
A boy with soft white hair and another one with a permanent scowl came from Inazuma. Two twins, as well as a pink-haired girl that wore glasses and a beret, came from Fontaine. There were also a handful of new students from Liyue city, namely a bubbly girl with bright eyes, another pink-haired girl, a blue haired girl… so many new faces, and Lumine couldn’t believe how different middle school already was.
Her homeroom teacher was Ms. Xianyun, a well-spoken and poised woman with red-rimmed glasses and a stone expression.
After introductions ended, Lumine sat herself next to Xiao, who sat by the window.
“There’s so many new students,” she commented, and then sighed, “I can’t remember them all.”
Aether would have immediately ran from one new student to another, asking their names even when they had just said it, just to sneer at Lumine for sitting on the side quietly.
But with this image in mind, Lumine did not have the heart to get to know any of them.
“You don’t have to remember them all.”
Xiao’s chin rested on his arms as he slumped over on the desk, staring at all the kids getting situated among the empty seats.
So many seats.
Lumine felt overwhelmed, and her mind began to swim again.
So she ran her fingers through the sea-colored streaks lining his otherwise black hair.
To her silent relief, he didn’t seem to mind.
Lumine passed English and History and Math class by staring out the window behind Xiao, and counting the raindrops that dotted the glass before she lost track.
She was distracted, and her mood soured more with the rain, as she thought of her shoes gaining a thick coat of mud later when she walked back home.
And when the teacher handed out homework a familiar lump formed in her throat and her eyes became sickeningly warm again.
She remembered math homework in front of his door, and their quiet bickering, and then tears dotted her homework sheet.
Xiao gave her his jacket and she wiped her tears on it, before sitting awkwardly with his jacket sprawled across her table and her head on his jacket.
After the last class before lunch the teacher called her to stay behind.
“You’re looking so tired, Lumine, and it’s only the first day,” he joked.
“Sorry. Didn’t sleep well.”
She would have explained the situation, because she was always straightforward, because she had never cared what others thought of her.
But she didn’t want his ignorant pity.
And she didn’t want the world to hear, because once she admitted it to herself, it just made him seem all the more unreachable.
So she didn’t.
The teacher nodded reluctantly, and sent her off to lunch.
Xiao sat with the cream-haired boy and the angry-looking boy, both from Inazuma. Lumine wondered if he had a thing for Inazuman boys.
The girls in her class sat on the table behind Xiao’s.
Exhausted and ready to go home, Lumine sat herself down next to Xiao and rested her head on the table, completely unaware of the surprised look Annoyed Inazuman Boy gave her.
Cream-haired boy spoke up. “Hey, I heard your name is Lumine. I’m Kazuha, and this is Kuni,” he gestured to Annoyed Inazuman Boy, “it’s nice to meet you.”
His voice was soft and smooth like the hot chocolate drink Lumine tried once at a Fontainian-run stand by the school.
She didn’t want to talk, but she forced her voice out of her closing throat, because she reminded herself to be strong.
“It’s nice to meet you guys too.”
Halfway through lunch Gaming and Hu Tao had come over and both given her a hug, and she wished it made her feel better, but it only made her feel more uncomfortable. As if she were problematic.
While she pondered, she didn’t notice a girl with bright eyes and hair like midnight rain approach her, getting up from the girl’s table just across from them.
“Hey, Lumine, I’m Xiangling! It’s nice to meet you!”
Lumine lifted her head. This girl was about her height, and wore her hair in two tight buns with a cute tanuki bear clip that kept her bangs at bay.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too.”
“I’m from Liyue City. How about you?”
“I’m from here. My parents were from Mondstat but I grew up here.”
“Ah… I see. No wonder your Liyuen is so good! Can I sit next to you?”
Lumine nodded, and moved her lunch box over to Xiao’s side to give her space. Xiangling set her tray down and started rattling on to Kazuha and Kuni, while Kuni gave her the ugliest glare he could manage.
“Do you want to go onto the field?” Xiao asked Lumine, looking at her tired face. “We can go make another flower crown. Or you can watch me practice my back handspring.”
“Let’s just go sit on the grass.” She tapped Xiangling’s shoulder.
“Go with us. To sit on the grass.”
Xiangling nodded with enthusiasm and curiosity flushing her cheeks, and so the three of them went, feeling the Summer’s heat fading gently into breezy Autumn.
Within a week Lumine could match the faces to the names of all her new classmates.
Kazuha was too calm and too rich, like dark chocolate.
Kuni was too bitter.
Lyney was charming and his twin sister calm. They were refreshing like Aether, and Lumine enjoyed their light presence.
Charlotte was always writing.
Ganyu was nervous but kind, and Keqing had not looked at her once.
Yanfei loved debates.
Chongyun was quiet too, but his expressions were quite the opposite—when teased once, his face flushed a bright crimson. Much like someone she knew.
Xingqiu was always next to Chongyun.
Lan Yan Lumine had seen around before, and she was sweet and soft-spoken.
And Xiangling was bubbly like lemon soda; her presence reminded her a little of someone, but her brightness permeated through Lumine and she didn’t mind the resemblance so much anymore.
Lumine knew it wasn’t right to judge people by the standards of her brother, but she couldn’t help it; he was always stuck to her, and even when his physical being floated away, his soul glued itself in her mind.
But despite her picky impressions, by the end of the week Lumine had friends. Ganyu, Chongyun, Xingqiu, Lan Yan, Xiangling, Xiao.
After they ate lunch on their table close to the door, they would make their way to the field and lie down on the grass, eyes towards the clouds.
When it rained they stayed at their table, listening to Xiangling and Xingqiu bicker, or Ganyu complain about her ballet teacher.
But most of the time Lumine felt like leaving everything behind and going back to her careless summers. Then she would lean her head on Xiao’s shoulder and close her eyes.
Xiao never minded anymore.
Lumine didn’t mind anyone either.
Soon, it would be test week, so Xiangling and Lumine sat in the library after school, quizzing each other on English, and reviewing the math worksheets together. Xiao was at his gymnastics practice, and he was too smart to need any last-minute studying.
The library was quiet, and waves of sunlight rolled in through the dusty window beside them. While Xiangling struggled on a problem, Lumine propped her elbow on the table and laid her head on her hand, watching her friend’s animated frustration with quiet amusement. They were reviewing linear functions, something Xiao had taught her in fifth grade.
It was odd; fifth grade already felt so far behind, but still that ringworm of regret chewed through her heart as if that chilly night was just yesterday.
She closed her eyes and tried her best to forget.
“Lumineee, how do I solve this?” Xiangling hit the table with a defeated fist, and then followed with her head, which resulted in a loud thunk.
“It’s easy.” Lumine picked up her pencil and wrote the equation on her friend’s worksheet, her neat letters contrasting with Xiangling’s, like an aristocrat’s handwriting placed next to that of a Neanderthal’s.
Xiangling hit her head on the table again, not bothering to look up at Lumine’s work.
“You make it look so easy.”
“That’s because it is.”
Xiangling groaned, and started on the next problem.
“You make it look so easy.” He had once said this to her through the crack in the door while she read him an English story. He’d sounded so jealous.
“That’s because it is,” she’d responded.
But only now did she realize, it wasn’t about her pronunciation, which was mediocre at best.
It was about her life— the one she didn’t have to struggle to hold onto, didn’t have to swallow big pills everyday to keep from falling apart.
Was it that she couldn’t understand, or was it that nobody cared to explain it to her?
Lumine, with her pencil still in hand, started doodling little birds by her linear graphs and inequalities, just like she and Xiao did on the backs of their math homework during self-study time.
She was always better at drawing them than he ever was, but now her birds had looked messy, a silhouette emerging from a gathering pit of confusion.
Angry, twisting vultures.
She felt her anger twisting inside her too, but where to direct it, she didn’t know.
“Are you okay?” That was the first thing Xiao asked her the next morning.
“Huh?”
“Xiangling said that you started crying when you guys were studying and that you tore up the bird drawings you drew, so she had to bring you back home. I saw her come out of your house yesterday when I was heading back from practice.”
Lumine looked down. She knew if he only looked a little bit closer, he would see the red lining her eyes.
She didn’t want to tell him because he knew too much and she felt vulnerable, but there weren’t many people she could tell things anymore; the boy she loved most was buried in the dirt, and her mother was always crying at Zhongli’s (whom she learned was her mother’s old friend) or visiting the therapist with blue hair that lived a few roads ahead.
And she didn’t know when she suddenly felt like lying, even to Xiao.
But she couldn’t tell him, not yet, maybe never. Because she felt embarrassed. She was never like this, depressing and grim. She was always happy.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I just got sad. Like you told me to, so I don’t get old fast.”
“…If you say so.”
Xiao looked slightly more relieved, but the whole way down the road and up the stairs and into the classroom he held her hand tightly, like how he used to when he knew that all she could think of was her brother.
She thought about him more and more these days.
Xiao must have noticed, because he held her hand a lot more these days too.
She couldn’t focus on her tests, and her eyes found their way to the window more often than the teacher.
The English and Math tests she’d studied hard for passed in a numb blur, and she found she didn’t really care how well she did.
And after lunch when she and her friends lay on the grass, she closed her eyes instead of peering at the blue sky and trying to name the cloud shapes.
It had already been five months, but reality really never sunk in until now.
She hated it, she hated how she had watched him die, let him die, taunting him with the youth he couldn’t have, a bright smile on her face and sunlight dancing around her.
But what she hated most right now was her mother.
Her mother was always pretending, always hiding, Lumine realized.
When she’d smiled after leaving Aether’s room everyday, when she’d promised that Aether would get better.
She’d watched him die with a guttural helplessness, with a dawning realization of what was waiting in front of him. Then she’d turned around, wiped her eyes, opened the door and promised Lumine something she couldn’t see herself; hope.
Lumine had vaguely noticed it when Aether was still sick.
Her mother’s tired eyes, dulled smile— lips that curved upwards but never curled to her eyes. Like she was smiling at Lumine to reassure herself, to tell herself that it would all be okay because this bright child of hers was here with her.
To tell herself she wouldn’t feel a thing when he left this world, because his sister would still be here.
She never bothered to tell Lumine the truth. She never bothered to stop her from crashing down, to help her understand this disease that Aether carried.
Perhaps it was because she was selfish in her own way, just like Lumine was when hating her. Perhaps it was because she couldn’t bear to lose her perfect life once again.
And now all she did was cry, and when she wasn’t, she sat at the table with eyes sunken and gaze fixed on some faraway star.
She did nothing all day, and dishes piled in the sink and laundry was hurled across her room.
Lumine always thought her mother was strong. But seeing her face contort in pain and regret every morning, and listening to her quiet sobs wracking the walls at night, Lumine thought perhaps she was just as confused as herself.
And Lumine didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know and she was hurting and all she could think was this is all your fault. It was all her mother’s fault, for letting his life pass like a wave on the water, for not being able to wish for hope even when Lumine did so fervently. It was all her mother’s fault, for not being strong like an adult should.
And when she screamed at her shell of a mother, her mother said little, as if there was nothing to be done, as if she didn’t care anymore, as if she was letting go.
And Lumine hated it, hated how easily she let her eyes glaze over, and let her mind drown away.
You promised, you promised, you promised, she screamed, tears falling like angry stars.
I hate you, she yelled, salt on her tongue, and even then her mother barely looked up.
Then the vase fell onto the ground, her mother’s favorite vase, the one her and Aether decorated with hearts and I Love You Mom scrawled in red marker.
Water and Qingxin spilled, and the glass scattered and scraped Lumine’s ears with its high-pitched, tinkling cries.
Then her mother rushed to pick it up, and told Lumine to leave the room, and Lumine was filled with a bitter, bitter resentment.
She left the room and then left the house, and she wished there was nothing but doors and doors ahead of her, so she could walk through them one by one and leave everything behind.
It was the first time she’d come to the grassy hill without Xiao. It was dark and the stars shone like any other day.
But today they didn’t shine for her or Aether, they shone because they could, and mocked Lumine because she couldn’t.
She traced the triangles and the parallelograms in the sky, counting ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen big parallelograms.
Then she looked for the bird constellation, but it wasn’t there anymore.
She couldn’t find it anymore.
Then she cried, and even though she knew that others could hear, she wailed and screamed and wished for Aether to come back. Because now that she’d told her mother that she hated her, and she couldn’t find her brother in the stars, who else was left to love her?
— — —
Xiao was in bed when he heard someone crying outside. It was annoying, and after thirty minutes they still wouldn’t shut up.
Xiao wondered who could have so much to cry about in the middle of the night, then felt bad because he had been the same when his brother Bo left him one night.
And now he felt a little sadder too, so he quietly cursed at the wailing voice for making him sad.
Getting out of his bed, he quietly tiptoed out of the house and put on his sandals before heading toward the hill behind his house. But as he headed up the hill, the crying only got louder.
Was someone on the hill?
Who else came to this hill, other than…
Oh.
He ran up the hill and his feet hurt from the grating texture of the sandal. His breath heaved but he still ran. Once he reached the top he saw her lying in the grass, churning out a hateful song towards the beautiful stars.
He didn’t know what to do, so he stood there for a second, watching her, and wondering if this was what he looked like that night six years ago. Then he crept up beside her and sat.
He never knew what to say, he never did anymore, so he held her hand like he always did.
But she didn’t quiet down like she always did.
She got up with her tear-stained face and her sobs racking her body, and then she hugged him, and pressed her wet, guilt-eroded face into his chest.
She was warm and her voice was so close.
Xiao put his hands around her back and wondered what made her so sad.
What could dim the brightest star in Teyvat’s sky?
He didn’t know, so he hugged her tighter, and hummed her the tune that he had always sang to Bo.
It was cold then, wind prickled the hairs on his neck and bit at his toes and legs.
How much colder it would be for her, he thought, and wrapped his arms tighter around her, tighter than he had hugged anyone since Bo.
Somehow in her presence, Bo was less painful to think about.
And then she quieted down, with her forehead still pressed to where his heart beat.
Then they sat for a long time, and Xiao couldn’t feel the cold anymore, not with the brightest sun’s arms wrapped around his body, and her warmth glowing right by his heartbeat.
“Who will love me now?” She had whispered into his chest.
Words sprouted at the edge of his throat, but Xiao swallowed them back down. He couldn’t say it, not now, maybe never.
So he hugged her tighter. Tighter than he had hugged anyone.
Notes:
okk i myself haven’t been through such a big loss at such a young age, so im just trying my best to capture how it would look. Cus like I’m thinking she wouldn’t be as sad because she doesn’t really understand it well and she’s still young, but also she’d be pretty sad for the same reasons (because she’s so young). i think she’d hate herself a little but her mom as well, and idk i was kinda struggling as to how I should write this so any feedback would be helpful :)
Next chapter i’ll work on lumine and her mom’s relationship more, as well as her school life and her friendship with Xiangling. Platonic (for now) Xiaolumi in there as always :)
Chapter 6: Six
Summary:
In which lumine and zhongli sit down for a big chat
Notes:
i feel like in every universe zhongli is the therapist lmao
Also, I finally ordered out my chapters!!! Thanks to wisteria_16 (who writes amazing fics pls check out), i now know how to plan out everything. So things might have felt a little rushed before this, but i promise you I’ll write out lumine’s growth at a much better pace! thanks for all the support up until now :)
btw there’s gonna be three arcs in this fic. First is 6th grade, second is 7-8th grade, third is like high school. Between each arc we will jump back to the present.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lumine used to know how to make others laugh.
She’d make a funny remark about the rock she and Aether were examining, and he’d laugh.
Or she’d tell a joke, and her mom would smile.
Or when Aether felt down, she and her mother would find ways to cheer him up, and then all their mouths would curve upwards, and all their eyes would light up.
It all made sense, their reactions.
And Lumine found comfort in it, knowing that she could create a fizzing happiness inside them, however small it might be.
Lumine used to understand how her life worked, too.
You’d only die if you jump off the roof of your house, head first.
You’d only die if you eat all the rice cakes without telling mom or Aether.
You’d only die if you swallow that scary looking snake on the ground.
You’d only die if you’re not careful with the kitchen knife.
You weren’t supposed to die when an angry malady entered your body, eating it from the inside out.
Those things weren’t supposed to exist in the first place.
When Aether wouldn’t smile at the same things anymore, Mom’s lips still curved upwards. So it was okay, Lumine told herself.
But then Death came again, wearing the face of the boy Lumine loved most.
It made no sense, why Aether was dragged away from this world.
It made no sense, he was such a good brother, so kind, what did he ever do wrong?
He never jumped off the roof of the house, or ate all the rice cakes without permission, or swallowed the scary snake, or messed with the kitchen knife.
He was never selfish like Lumine, running off to play with a kid she’d just met, leaving him on that bed, alone for the rest of his life.
It was not okay. He never deserved it.
Death abided no logic, no reason.
It took and took, and it didn’t stop when it took her brother; it took a bit of her and her mother away too.
Now her mother made no sense anymore; nothing did. Nobody smiled because of Lumine anymore, and she didn’t know how to change it. She wasn’t bright anymore, not even a bit, not like Aether was all the way up until he was stolen away. She couldn’t smile anymore, couldn’t make her mom smile anymore.
And then Lumine wondered, listening to Xiao’s heartbeat, who was she without Aether? And this shadow that clung to her mother, would it ever go away?
Was Lumine enough to make it go away? Was she enough even without her brother?
The next morning Lumine was tired.
She remembered Xiao’s warm embrace, and fell back into bed. Her mother never came to wake her up gently nowadays, to pull back the covers and whisper Wake up, sunshine.
The sun had not awoken yet, and so Lumine dragged herself out of bed and to the bathroom.
In the mirror Lumine noted she looked paler than before. Like a less intense reflection of her mother, she thought. Her eyelids hung downwards, just like her downturned lips, and she wondered if she always looked this grumpy.
After washing up she went to the kitchen.
Her mom was most likely still in bed; when Lumine returned last night with Xiao, she had still been there, sitting in the kitchen, the broken pieces of the vase swept into a clump but not thrown away. The pills that she brought from the blue-haired therapist (Lumine had forgotten her name) every few days was on the table beside her.
She hadn’t taken them.
Lumine had felt guilty and scared and tired, and the way her mom stared through the table, unmoving and unresponsive, had scared her even further.
It was as if a shadow hung over her, one that would never let go, one that darkened with every day and hid her away from the cerulean skies.
Mom used to make her and Aether toast and eggs, with their favorite Inazuman sausages.
They were out of Inazuman sausages now— they had been since his funeral.
Lumine washed the dishes piled up on the counter, then cut the toast and placed two pieces in the toaster, before twisting the dial and pushing down the lever.
Then she stared, for a long time, at the pan in front of her.
She knew the basics; oil, then crack the egg, then sprinkle salt and pepper, then flip. But she’d never done it herself.
And the previous few weeks her mom was still talking.
Lumine wondered if it was her own fault that her mom was getting worse and worse.
She heat the pan and poured some oil from the plastic canister, and then cracked the egg on the side of the pan, before splitting the shell in two with her thumb. A piece of the shell got caught in the egg and followed it into the pan. She reached in to pull it out, before cursing at the pan as her fingers came in contact with the heated oil.
Then, she reached for the salt and pepper, sprinkling it in sparing amounts onto the egg. She remembered once Aether made an egg and put so much salt on it, her teeth started to melt.
She grabbed the wooden spatula and scraped the egg off the pan. It was stuck. She scraped harder, and then the yolk on top broke and started seeping onto the pan. Hurriedly, she poured more oil so the rest wouldn’t stick.
Someone knocked on the door.
She finished scraping the egg off and flipped it over haphazardly before rushing to the door.
It was Xiao, standing at the door with a small plastic bag.
“Uncle Zhongli told me to give you these. It’s sausages. The Inazuman ones.”
“Thanks.”
She took the bag from his hand, before walking back to the kitchen. She tried her best to forget how she’d cried into his arms just the night before.
“Come inside, I’m making an egg and I don’t want it to burn.”
Xiao coughed at her egg.
“That’s not nice. I think it looks edible,” she said.
She mounted the scrambled egg onto her toast, then used chopsticks to pick out the egg shell lodged inside the yolk, and drizzled soy sauce across it.
Then she hovered over the pan again. A voice came from behind her.
“Eat. I’ll make your mom one.”
She wondered when Xiao knew her so well.
“…Thanks.”
Her mom’s egg came out perfect, and Lumine was jealous of how gracefully Xiao had flipped the egg.
“You should’ve put more oil,” he said, using the spatula to lower the egg onto the bread.
“I know. I’m not dumb.”
Xiao ignored her comment and checked the clock on the wall.
“Let’s go. We’ll be late if we don’t go now.”
So Lumine grabbed her bag off the dining table seat, and noticed that in the room neighboring the kitchen, on the wooden floor next to the table of her mother’s study, lay the shattered vase in a plastic bag.
Some of the big pieces were on the table, glued together with a small bottle of super glue that lay on the side.
What’s the use in trying to fix what’s already so broken, Lumine thought bitterly.
She eyed the glass pieces one more time before turning her head and heading towards the door behind Xiao.
Classes passed so slowly today.
Even Lumine’s favorite class, art, was agonizingly slow.
Her paper, for the most part, stayed untouched, and it seemed as though the teacher would not stop talking. The pencil felt too heavy in her hands.
At lunch she wasn’t hungry; a knot welled up in her gut and tied her intestines together. She didn’t bother to stand in line and get her own lunch, so she stole bits from Xiao and Xiangling.
“Aw, Lumine…” Xiangling patted her head. Lumine let her.
She had never told Xiangling what happened, and she knew neither had Xiao; but Xiangling was observant despite her happy-go-lucky nature, and Lumine had a feeling, from how she never asked too many questions, that she more or less knew what was going on.
Halfway through math class, the class just after lunch, Lumine started to feel a dull ache in her head.
The teacher had given them assigned seating, and she sat just next to Lyney. In front of her was Ganyu and Keqing, while behind her sat Xiangling and Lynette. Xiao was in the front, sitting next to Kuni.
Lyney was always charming, but not in the innocent way Aether was. His charm felt like a lavish layer of silk masking something much more horrid. It felt like plastic. And Lumine didn’t like it, because it stabbed into her heart. It was too close to home, yet still a far cry from it.
The chalkboard was too crowded with equations, so Lumine looked at Xiao, and wondered what he thought about her.
Did he think she was helpless too? Hopeless, maybe? Pathetic?
Is that why he held her and visited her frequently, even when she stopped caring too much for him?
Was she selfish, and he just too naive to understand it?
She wondered if their innocent friendship was ruined by her negligence and his pity for it.
Then she felt a headless anger budding again, but now there was no one to point it to but herself.
“Hey.”
Lumine was just about to leave the classroom when Xiao tugged on her bag strap.
“Come study with me and Xiangling,” he said with those beautiful eyes of his.
“No, I’m tired today. I’m gonna head home. See you guys tomorrow.”
“Midterms are soon.” He tightened his grip on her bag.
“It’s okay, I’ve been studying extra hard lately.” She tugged again, but still he didn’t let go, seemingly unconvinced she really studied.
“Let go.”
His grip loosened.
“…Sorry.”
Without looking back, Lumine walked swiftly down the halls and the stairs and through all the chatter.
She walked home and her head pounded, as if her brain was knocking against her skull.
She should be studying. Her English exam two weeks before had not gone well, and neither had her science test.
She should go home and pull out her books and study, maybe ask her mom to help her. But then the same worry nagged at her, and Lumine hesitated, hand just hovering over the doorknob.
Her mom shouldn’t help her, after what Lumine had said to her last night. And Lumine shouldn’t go in the door, because maybe that will only make her mom sadder.
So instead, she sat on the front steps with her elbows propped on her knees.
All this just to avoid talking her mom, to avoid discomfort.
Lumine wondered just how selfish she could be.
After a few minutes, the door behind her opened. Had her mom come outside? She turned her head.
It was Uncle Zhongli.
He’d closed the door, and was staring at her with a soft, amused expression.
“Hi there, Lumine. Why haven’t you come inside? Seems you’ve been waiting here for a while.”
Uncle Zhongli was wise, Lumine could see it in his kind, misty eyes and mellow smile.
“…um, I… I don’t know.”
“Is there anything you’re scared of?”
She felt his presence right behind her, as she turned her head back to stare at her feet.
“…I don’t know.”
Uncle Zhongli was hazy in her memory— she knew his easy smile, but she was always out playing or at home; she’d never really talked to him as a child. He was caring, and her mom’s best friend.
But would he understand? Would he look down at her for acting so brashly? She didn’t know, and vaguely did not want to try.
He hummed, and went down the steps, before turning to face Lumine. “Why don’t you come over, and I’ll get you some tea?”
Left with no other choice, Lumine gave a small nod and got up to follow Uncle Zhongli.
“Come, sit.”
Lumine set down her bag by the table, and sat down on one of the polished wooden chairs. On each chair sat a cushion. Each cushion was weaved with beautiful scenery in the traditional Liyuen art style, golds and blues and yellows and pear green laced together to create the breathtaking landscape of Liyue.
“Like the cushions?”
“Yeah. Who made these?”
“…An old friend of mine.”
Lumine nodded. “Shame everyone sits on them. They’re masterpieces.”
Zhongli let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “It’s what she would have wanted, so I don’t mind.”
She looked out the window just across from her, the one that faced Aether’s window, and then looked back down.
Uncle Zhongli set the kettle on the stove and turned the fire up, the stove ticking with the sudden flames. Then, he came and sat across from Lumine, blocking the window.
“How’s school?” He asked.
“It’s… good, but finals are soon.”
“Hum, yes. Xiao mentioned that, and he also said he was worried you weren’t studying enough.” Zhongli laughed fondly.
Lumine didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded.
His gaze softened, as if he were remembering something, as if he already knew what bothered her. But he didn’t mention it.
“Hm… while we’re waiting for the tea, let me tell you a story. Alright?”
Lumine nodded again.
“Once I met a child. I was lonely and my beloved had just walked out of this world. Yes, I was so lonely. I was walking outside, because I didn’t know what else to do, and sleep would not find me.” The look in his eyes reminded Lumine of her mother’s.
“Then I met a little boy, he was sitting by a curb, it was late into the night. He was crying. There was an orphanage just up the road, I asked him if he was from there. He said he didn’t belong there, and I understood. We were both lonely and confused. And you know, when you see people that remind you of yourself, you can’t help but care for them. Maybe that’s selfish, but we all are in some way.”
Zhongli smiled, more in spite of himself than for Lumine.
“I sat down next to him, and he told me of his troubles. His brother had run away, and he’d blamed himself for his brother’s misery. He felt he didn’t deserve to stay at the orphanage, and he didn’t know who to ask for help. He was sad, but he was also frightened. Frightened of not knowing, and frightened of sharing his burden… and I realized, from listening to him, so was I. I was frightened too. Just like him.”
Then the kettle went off, and Zhongli excused himself from the story to turn the stove off. He brought the kettle and some dried tea leaves, pouring the leaves and then the pumping hot water into two china cups, and handing one to Lumine, before sitting himself down again. Lumine thanked him quietly and took a sip. Her eyes lit up with pleasant surprise. It was a gentle, sweet blend; unlike anything Lumine had tried before.
“Like the tea?”
“Yeah. I’ve never tried this before.”
“Mm. This is Osmanthus tea. Very gentle and breezy, I was sure you’d like it.”
Zhongli took another sip, and Lumine turned her budding curiosity back to the story he was telling.
“That boy in your story… was it Xiao?” Lumine asked.
She remembered Xiao had told her of something similar, how he’d missed his brother after his brother had run away. Zhongli nodded. “I had a feeling you knew.”
“…So then what happened?”
Zhongli chuckled at her badly-masked eagerness.
“Well, we had both lost someone we loved. We were both a little awkward. But, once Xiao and I talked, it wasn’t so lonely anymore. And you know what I said to him?”
Zhongli set his cup down and met Lumine’s eyes with his golden brown ones, ones like gems, honed by the tides of time and loss.
“I told him of love. Love is as beautiful as it is unreasonable. In the midst of love, we turn to irrationality, in an attempt to grasp at the unknown. To understand it on our own. But the unknown isn’t for us to journey alone.”
He paused, maybe expecting Lumine to show that she understood the lesson.
“…You don’t have to be alone, Lumine.”
“But I deserve to be,” she said in a small voice, staring into the rippling water of her teacup.
Zhongli shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. “That’s exactly what he said when I first talked to him.”
“Oh.”
“Lumine, you don’t deserve to be alone. Nobody does. So don’t be scared. If you’d just take one step forward, maybe you’ll realize it’s not all that bad.”
“That sounds so cliche.”
Zhongli didn’t laugh, only gave her a tired smile.
“I understand. Being afraid is so easy. So convenient. Yet at the same time, it’s so hard not to be. But when you’re scared, that’s all you allow yourself; maybe if you weren’t, you’d see the world differently. Maybe then you’ll see that it’s nothing to be afraid of. Or maybe, you’ll see there are many people who are feeling just as lonely as you. And then you won’t feel as alone anymore.”
Notes:
Kinda short chapter, but more fluff coming up after this :)
Chapter 7: Seven
Summary:
in which lumine rides a giant rollercoaster and comes to recognize that she doesn’t know what to do, and maybe thats okay :)
Notes:
ALSO i know at the start it seemed like the timeline was a bit in the past (no phones) but i changed it because i feel like that made no sense. just heads up cus there’s a refrigerator in this chapter
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lumine’s conversation with Zhongli left her frustrated.
He acted as if she had major self esteem issues, the kind that only appeared in books. He acted as if she needed help, but she knew she didn’t.
There were things only time could understand, and Lumine had decided that this was one of them. She didn’t need help.
She and her brother—wherever he may be— would figure this out together in her head. Nobody else needed to know, because her brother was hers and not theirs. She would learn herself to stow him away in her heart.
But what he said— that she didn’t deserve to be alone? Did he know what she did, what she said? Would her mother agree that she didn’t deserve to be alone? Would Aether?
She knew Zhongli meant well, but she told herself that she could understand herself.
Her unknown was for herself to conquer, because she was afraid—no, she was sure— that if she turned around, nobody would be pushing her forward.
Because they shouldn’t be, after all she’d done.
She was about to tell Zhongli this, but then the front door swung open and Xiao came in, hair ruffled and backpack slung over one shoulder. Lumine quickly averted her gaze and pretended to take a sip of her already lukewarm tea.
“Xiao,” Zhongli greeted, “how was school?”
“Um, it was good.”
He dropped his bag by his shoes before thinking better of it and carrying it to the table, hovering over the seat beside Lumine’s.
“Uh, Lumine. Xiangling and I made some math study notes for you. Because you didn’t come to the library today.”
He rummaged through his bag before pulling out a thin stack of papers, neatly clipped together with a staple, and handed it to Lumine.
“…Thanks.”
She briefly looked through the pages. It was all done in Xiao’s neat handwriting, with small doodles of who knows what, probably drawn by Xiangling.
Again something boiled in her, and again she felt pathetic, helpless, confused.
“Um, then… I should go now. Thank you Uncle Zhongli.” She clutched the packet and prepared to bolt for the door. Why was it so awkward now? Was it because she was no longer talking enough to fill the space?
“Wait. How about you study with Xiao? I already ate with your mom earlier, but I still have a lot of takeout. Why don’t you help us finish it?” Zhongli smiled at her, and added, “just like Xiao used to come over to your house. Think of it as… us repaying a favor.”
Zhongli knew she was guilty. He knew she wouldn’t go straight back into her house, and Lumine could only wonder how.
“…Alright. I’ll stay.”
When she was talking to Zhongli, Xiao fidgeted by the chair, pretending to look into his backpack or out the window.
He must have felt awkward, next to this girl who didn’t act like herself anymore. A girl he’d been best friends with until her bright smile dissipated along with her brother. Lumine wondered, again, what he thought of her now.
Now, he led her out of the kitchen, down the hall and to his room.
They both sat on the bed, the study guide sprawled out between them. It was mostly math and science, what Lumine struggled on the most.
“In the math part of the packet I put some linear graphs, inequalities, exponents, and such. I have problems and challenge problems for all of them.” Xiao flipped through the pages, each one titled neatly with the concept it covered. He looked up at Lumine.
“Which one do you need the most help on?”
Lumine flipped through the pages again, briefly skimming each page. There were many examples on each one, with visual indicators and color coded equations, all neatly stacked one row after another. It must have been a lot of work.
“How long did this take?”
“Not long. It helped me review my understanding too, so don’t worry about it.”
Lumine flipped through all the pages again and quelled the shaking anxiety of confusion. Except this time it was easier, because this reminded her so fondly of an easier time. She could just but imagine his voice winding through the cracks in the door, as she and Xiao sat with their backs against it.
“Probably the exponents.”
She hadn’t reviewed those since god knows when. The last time she’d tried, it had made no sense.
Xiao nodded, and turned to the page, before starting his explanation in his soothing voice, a voice like a shooting star in an inky indigo ocean.
As he talked Lumine let her eyes drift across his room.
It was much the same, except for the cheap medal that hung on a shelf, and the poster of a famous dancer with black hair. In the corner, the wall was dotted with some bird doodles that Lumine recognized as the ones she’d drawn on Xiao’s notebooks. She would’ve teased Xiao on how he’d preserved all of them, but now she saw no purpose in doing that.
Then her gaze drifted to Xiao’s desk, cluttered with books and pencils and notebooks. That’s how he was— neat handwriting, messy desk. It was amusing.
On the desk, a particular book caught her eye.
It was the one with a shining golden spine and an aquamarine cover, similar to the streaks that lined Xiao’s hair. It was the book Lumine had once obsessed over, the one about Adepti and childish stories, the one Lumine had believed so fervently in.
Lumine felt bitter now thinking about it; she’d prayed and prayed, but the adepti hadn’t saved Aether.
Now that she thought of it, no matter how hard she’d hoped and hoped, it hadn’t saved Aether either. Maybe she was the one being foolish— her mother must have known that as well.
Maybe it was never how she couldn’t understand, but rather that she was afraid to. Afraid what calamities the knowledge of Aether’s sickness would strike within her. So afraid, she turned to ignorance in order to keep her peace of mind.
Just how selfish could she get?
“—umine. Lumine.”
Lumine turned her head. She’d been staring so long, with the bedsheets crumpled under her fists, that she’d forgotten to listen.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“…Did you understand what I said about exponents?”
His gaze was, again, tinged with concern— it was etched in the slight furrow of his brow and the sharpness of those golden eyes.
Lumine averted her gaze and shook her head, cheeks tinted with embarrassment.
“Sorry.”
Xiao looked down at Lumine’s hands, still tightly wound around his bedsheets.
“Remember what I said last time we came to my room?”
Lumine nodded.
“…I didn’t mean just to cry. I meant to talk about it, too. If you don’t talk about it, you’ll grow old fast—”
“It’s okay. I don’t need you to make things up for me.”
If Xiao didn’t see it then, he must have seen it now. Lumine knew how tired, how defeated she must look.
Her eyes were now always pointed down, and she hadn’t smiled since he passed.
Like her mother, painfully like her mother. Like that unmoving, unfeeling figure staring through the table.
Grief at its finest, Lumine figured— sucking away what made both her and her mother seem alive.
But Xiao said nothing about her expression. He just looked at her.
Pity, it must be.
Lumine knew he was once just as lost as she was, albeit at a much younger age. Lumine had an inkling of how much he must have suffered, and she was sure Xiao did for her as well.
Because people can’t help but pity those that remind them of theirselves, as Uncle Zhongli so accurately put it.
“Still, Lumine. It’s… good to talk about things you are not sure of.”
“I…”
Xiao, Zhongli, her mother, they all understood her the best, so why was she so unwilling?
Why did he look at her with that concern, as if she were an open wound? Why did he know, why did he care so much?
Lumine grit her teeth and a sickening warmth swallowed her eyes.
“I don’t need your pity, Xiao. I don’t want it.”
“It’s not pity, Lumine. I… I care—”
“Then don’t!” She gritted out.
It was loud, and it was edged, like a sharpened knife, one that severed ties, severed lives.
Tears stained the study packet, and the neat letters on the page melted along with it, swirling into the water dotting the surface.
Xiao flinched, and Lumine saw fear ghosting through his eyes and his body and his now clenched hands.
Lumine wanted to leave. She’d hurt everyone. Her Aether, her mother, and now Xiao. She couldn’t do anything right, she couldn’t tell them anything. Everything she had, everything she’d cherished, she’d pushed away. She was ungrateful. She was hopeless. Helpless.
She wiped her eyes furiously, but the way he just sat there, a shaky breath leaving his mouth, made the tears just keep coming.
“Sorry, I… I don’t know… I’ll look at the packet later…”
Lumine grabbed the packet and walked swiftly out of the room, out of the kitchen, out of the house. She didn’t wait for Zhongli or Xiao, and didn't listen anymore to Xiao’s shaky breaths.
“Sorry, Uncle Zhongli, but I’ll have to get going,” she said, putting on her shoes and bounding out the door, not waiting for a reply.
She was sorry. Sorry to everyone, sorry that she couldn’t smile, couldn’t do anything but make people sad and make herself cry.
Sorry that even when Uncle Zhongli sat her down and told her how to change for the better, she couldn’t believe in it.
Sorry that she could topple over years of carefully built relationships with a few words.
Sorry for disappointment after disappointment.
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
When Lumine finally opened the door, the sun had set and no lights were turned on inside.
On the table Lumine saw the takeout Zhongli must have brought over— it was eaten, just barely, but the plates and utensils had been washed and placed neatly on the rack.
There were some of the staple Liyuen dishes— fried rice, beef chow fun, and spicy stir-fried green beans. All Lumine’s childhood favorites, but she wasn’t hungry anymore.
Lumine cleaned up the takeout boxes scattered on the table and shoved them into the fridge. She heard no movement in the house other than her own; Lumine guessed her mother was already in bed, but Lumine doubted she was already sleeping. Her mom probably never slept.
Weary, Lumine headed to her room as well.
Lumine remembered when she and Xiao would come back from lying on top of the hill to look at the stars, her mom would be waiting in the kitchen with a small snack.
Sometimes it was the steamed rice buns, other times it was grapefruit juice. On days when her mother was particularly happy, it was 糯米饼, a delicious dessert, where red bean paste hid inside a layer of smooth chewy rice cake.
But now everything was different, now there was so much to worry about.
Now, Lumine was carrying the weight of emotions and fears and secrets that should not have been hers to carry. Worrying for things she couldn’t even fathom two years before.
Maybe Xiao was right; she was old, or acted old anyways.
She was a star that had been snuffed out by the very darkness it once shone above.
She was a star that had seen Death and his ghostly pallid complexion, a star that had realized how drenched in unreason the world was.
Was there anyone to blame for this? Was there always someone to blame?
Was it always right to blame someone?
Did lives just disappear like that? Do people just move on after that? And will mom also fade away like he did? Would her smile wilt away too?
Things like these only happened to other people, not to Lumine. Things like these weren’t supposed to really happen. It wasn’t fair.
Her mom hadn’t been waiting for her when she came back. The lights were off, the table lined with takeout gone cold. Mom was swallowed in her grief, a grief she could not even approach her daughter with, a grief Lumine ached to understand.
But she didn’t understand.
So she swirled her insecurities into a rolling ball of hate, transforming her confusion into explosive tears, because she couldn’t put them into better words.
Lumine had blamed her mother, but perhaps her mother had blamed herself, too.
Now she knew, loss was a mocking question embedded into everyone she cared for.
But now, how would she deal with that question? How could she just make peace with it?
She didn’t know what to do, no matter how much she told herself that she did.
It wasn’t okay.
It wasn’t.
Notes:
she really is just afraid lmao
anyways did I ever mention fluff?? ha ha, fluff? what’s that? lol
but next chapter we’ll get some stuff from Xiao’s perspective yay hurray and also some of his backstory :)
Chapter 8: Interlude: to let go of the stars
Summary:
in which we learn about xiao's horrible trauma
Notes:
ok longest chapter yet?? btw this hits much harder with sad songs in the background lmao
AHHHHHHH XAIO MY BABY
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Once, her eyes were always pointed towards the sun. They reminded him of grassy hills, of riverbeds, of warmth. Or maybe it wasn’t so much her eyes, but rather the way they always curled up with her beautiful smile. Or maybe it was the way she made him feel at ease— she was bright, but slightly reticent, just like him. She felt familiar.
Xiao had not really seen her brother much, but he could tell that Aether was just as radiant as Lumine.
He always knew, somewhere tucked comfortably in the back of his head, that Aether would recover, and then Lumine would become brighter and all three of them would frolic around in the grass.
But then it happened, and it was so sudden.
Xiao saw Lumine again, at his funeral, with her eyes glued to the floor. Her eyes didn’t meet his at all that day, not when he approached her, not even when he tentatively wrapped his arms around her.
Then she was different. She was soft-spoken, tired, mellow. A distorted version of herself. She made little sense. She didn’t run around with Xiao anymore. On Saturdays they just sat on the steps or on the hill.
Xiao knew what it felt like—losing someone so quickly— but he knew not how to help her. Words never mattered much to him, but now he regretted not learning to use them properly.
Now that Xiao thought about it, he hadn’t seen that same vitality in her expression since the day before spring break in fifth grade. Now that he thought about it, she hadn’t smiled at all since then, either. It was jarring.
Xiangling always understood. She always understood how to say the little things. But Xiao couldn’t, so he did what he could to stay by Lumine’s side, and to hopefully walk her through it.
But she didn’t get better, and after hearing her cry so helplessly, Xiao felt helpless too.
She never cried; in fact, Xiao had never ever seen her cry until now.
And then she yelled at him, eyes woven with unshed tears, brows knitted together, so unfamiliar.
Then Xiao heard him in her voice.
A long undone knot redid itself and wrapped around his lungs.
He wondered if it was all his fault, that Lumine was crying and angry and pushing him away. His fault for not being able to make it better. It was that mistake all over again.
___________________
“Bo, are you okay?”
They sat on a new bed, the one they now shared in a room full of beds and other children. Bo was crying, but Xiao could just barely understand why. He didn’t remember much of their parents, so it was hard to understand Bo’s pain— they were gone before Xiao could even fathom death’s existence.
“…No, this… I miss them so, so much…”
His face was now in his hands, burying his quiet sobs away from Xiao.
“…We can miss them together.”
Xiao wrapped his hands around him, hummed his favorite song, and hoped that the warmth would bring him comfort.
While other kids went to eat breakfast, Bo did not.
His playful, snarky demeanor was washed away by his tears, and when his eyes were dried, Xiao could hear his heart still crying.
Xiao always brought his older brother bread from the canteen and stories from other kids that he overheard, though it would not earn so much as a faint scoff from him. But for Xiao that was enough— Bo was alive, breathing, and talking.
“Sometimes, I wonder why I’m still alive.”
“What? …Don’t say that.”
“I feel so… angry. I feel like I should have done more. I should have said more to them. But now I can’t.”
“I don’t really remember, but I wish I did, I wish I could have seen them again too. But…”
he trailed off, sifting through his limited vocabulary to try and comfort Bo.
“But what?”
“But, we still have each other. I still have you. So I feel better.”
“…Me too.”
With each passing day Xiao started feeling guilty too.
He missed their house, he missed mom’s warm embrace, dad’s hearty laughs. He missed how the sun shone through his curtains dotted with birds.
And he missed Bo’s annoying smile.
So he always stayed with Bo, keeping him company, hoping to see the sun shine through his eyes again.
“Xiao, do you know what death means?”
“What?”
Bo sighed. “It’s not fair. I have to sit here and bawl my eyes out while you can’t even feel the same pain as me.”
“…I’m sorry. I can’t understand… ”
Xiao looked down at his hands, embarrassed and guilty that he couldn’t wrap his head around it. That his brother had to suffer alone. If he could understand, if he could take the burden off of his brother’s shoulders, he decided, then he would.
”…Sorry, I was just being selfish. I’m just tired.”
Then Bo patted Xiao’s head, something he used to do to make fun of Xiao’s height. Maybe he was getting better.
Xiao let out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding.
“Hey, Bo, remember when we used to play Marco Polo?”
They were sitting in the canteen, drinking soy milk and eating hard-boiled eggs, except Bo wasn’t eating anything. Soy milk was his favorite. Or used to be.
“That game the Shneznayan kid next door taught you?”
“Yeah,” Xiao smiled, “wasn’t it fun?”
Bo closed his eyes.
“I guess.”
Xiao remembered in his second grade summer, even when the heat was scalding and the air hot in his nose, they’d run around in the park by their house, Xiao with his hands over his eyes and Bo running around, shouting Polo, Polo, just where Xiao couldn’t reach.
But even with his eyes closed, he knew when he opened them, Bo would be just next to him, teasing him with a wide smile for giving up so quickly.
And then they’d chase each other, running across the grass and around the trees, until the crickets started picking up the cicada’s tune.
When summer rain chased the birds back into their trees and quieted the cicadas, they would take shelter under the 亭子 just by the stone path, and hear the rain weaving its own melody against the wooden roof. And once they got impatient, they’d make their way back into the rain and continue their game in Liyue’s misty summer showers.
“Do you wanna play it with me? Like before?”
Xiao looked back to Bo. Bo had his head against the table, resting on his two forearms.
“No, I’m tired of it.”
As the days passed Xiao saw less and less of Bo’s tears and more of his tired, dull expression.
He wasn’t playful anymore.
He didn’t show that giddy excitement that bubbled through his body and spread warmth to Xiao’s.
But Xiao didn’t push it, because as long as he wasn’t crying anymore, Xiao was happy.
One day, the kids in their room were gathered around the window.
Look, they whispered, outside there’s a big truck. It’s the garbage truck. Doesn’t it usually come earlier? I’ve never seen it at this time of day.
Xiao turned to Bo. He had an unfamiliar look in his eyes, and his eyes were suddenly fixed on the ceiling.
“I wonder where it goes,” he said.
“Probably to other neighborhoods to get the trash. Maybe even the city.”
Bo’s eyes lit up.
“Maybe we could hitch a ride. Get out of here.”
“That’s… probably not a good idea…”
Bo’s eyes drifted back down to his lap, and he sighed.
“…B-but, who knows, maybe.”
Xiao knew he could never; he could never do something like that. But maybe he’d entertain the idea for Bo, to see him smile.
Yeah, maybe this would make him smile.
Then Bo looked up, and Xiao saw it in his eyes, that playfulness, that vitality, sparking behind that sheen of numbness. And then Xiao’s doubts faded away.
Xiao spent the next two weeks surveying the window. As tasked by Bo, he’d started looking out for which days the trash truck came. It always came early in the morning, at three or four o’clock; that one day they saw it in the late morning seemed to be an outlier. It always came on Thursdays. He told this to Bo.
“Dang, we’ll have to wake up real early to catch it.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
During their scheming, Bo’s eyes had lit up even further, and smiles ghosted across his face every now and then.
It was relieving— that meant he was going back to the older brother that Xiao remembered, the brother Xiao knew everything about.
Soon, they tried sneaking out of the window, while the other kids went to eat lunch. It worked— the window could open with a small rattle from Xiao and a big push from Bo. Bo laughed, in his mischievous way, the first laugh in so long. Xiao laughed too.
They were about to try again the following week, but they were caught by the mistress who looked over their rooms.
“What do you think you two are doing?!” She’d stormed in just as Bo had swung a leg over the window ledge. “Get down, this instant!!”
Then Bo and Xiao had exchanged cheeky looks, and Xiao barely noticed the sting of the ruler against his wrists.
After that, it was harder— the window couldn’t be padlocked shut, but outside stood a patrol officer. Nevertheless, Xiao and Bo weren’t worried— those officers never stood outside during the wee hours of morning.
Bo started smiling more and more, and so did Xiao.
But blinded by hope and relief, Xiao could not notice the look in his eyes becoming more and more distant.
“So, when should we sneak out?” Bo asked between chews. They sat in the canteen, eating bread and porridge with pork floss.
“Are we actually gonna?”
“Well yeah, why would we do all this for nothing?” He smiled again, eyes pinched mischievously.
“But, what if I don’t want to?”
“Ha, you’re so childish, Xiao. Then I’ll go by myself.”
His smile this time was weird. It wasn’t joyful, it was… Xiao couldn’t place his finger on it.
“…but…”
“Come on, don’t you wanna get out of here? What’s the use in staying?”
“But I can’t leave. I’m younger, and they always watch me. Can’t… can’t you just stay with me?”
“…You’ve been sneaking out with me just fine so far.”
“That’s ’cause I’ve just been helping you open the window. You don’t know, Bo, but they’ve almost completely given up on stopping you.”
“All the more reason to leave.”
“N-no, but I haven’t given up on you. I’ll be all alone… if you leave. You’re all I have left, Bo.”
Bo sighed, and his smile disappeared, but that look, that ineffable look in his eyes, never really did.
“Alright, alright. I won’t leave you.”
Now sneaking out made Xiao anxious— not because he thought they would get caught, but because the more Bo did it, the more Xiao was worried he’d be left behind.
“Bo, let’s not… sneak out so much. I’m worried…”
“What is there to worry about now?”
“… I’m not sure you’ll stay.”
Bo gave him an exasperated look.
“When did you become so worried? So scared of what I’ll do next? Also, what makes you wanna stay in this wretched place?”
Bo and Xiao sat on their bed. It was already lights out, and everyone else was under the covers.
“It’s worth it, if… if we can stay together.”
But this time, Bo didn’t affirm his statement.
It was as if he was slipping further and further away.
These days, Bo never stayed in his bed. Xiao would have been relieved, but whenever Xiao saw him he would never flash him that same bright smile.
It was only when the window was open, and he was out on the grass at one in the morning, only then would Xiao catch his carefree gaze set upon the stars and the moon.
These days, a knot had been tightening around Xiao’s chest. It was gnawing at him, a thought that he didn’t want to confront. A thought that he knew wasn’t possible, and yet— there it was, in Bo’s eyes, in Bo’s smile, in the painful squeezing of Xiao’s heart.
But he trusted Bo, he trusted that he would keep true to his word.
Looking at Bo once again staring out the window, Xiao closed his eyes and hoped.
It will all get better, I promise, he thought. so just bear with me, please.
Just a little longer.
The sky was still dark outside when Bo shook him awake. Xiao’s eyelids were still glued together, and his mind still felt fuzzy with sleep.
“Come,” Bo whispered, tapping Xiao again.
“…what,” Xiao whispered back, slightly annoyed, “where are we going?”
“Just follow me, okay?”
As quietly as he could, Bo rattled and raised the window open. He swung both legs over the ledge and Xiao followed. Outside, crickets sung their midnight ballad, and the cool air tickled Xiao’s exposed legs and arms.
As they made their way through the grass and towards the road behind the building, Xiao noticed the garbage cans were placed in a neat line along the side of the road.
It was Thursday.
“Where are we going?”
Bo was dragged Xiao along by the wrist, and when he turned his head back to answer, Xiao saw that same relieved look in Bo’s eyes.
Eyes so bright, as if they swallowed the sun.
“Aren’t you sick of this place? Sick of this world?”
“What… what do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired, Xiao. I’m so sick of this place. I don’t know why I’m still here. Just imagine— we could run away, away from our past, from this wretched orphanage, and we could go to the city, and do whatever we want.”
“It’s just as lonely there as it is here… why can’t you just stay here with me?”
“We don’t have to worry about being alone. How could we ever be alone, in a city bustling with people?”
Just beyond the hill, Xiao could hear the faint clunking of the garbage truck. Xiao tightened his grip on Bo’s hand.
“No, please, Bo. I don’t want to leave. We don’t have to. You don’t even know where the truck goes.”
Bo ignored his statement. “Do you see those really far away mountains?”
Xiao was too afraid to answer. Too afraid of what Bo would say next.
“It’s hard having eyes. You see so much, yet so much of it is out of reach. Just on the horizon,”
Bo turned to Xiao, and continued, “but don’t you see? It’s right there, right there. I’m done being cooped up in here. I want to leave.”
Xiao clenched his jaw.
But what about me?
“But I’m too young to go with you. I can’t go with you. And… I want to stay.”
But Bo’s gaze didn’t turn to him. His eyes didn’t set upon him, his lips didn’t curl up into a comforting smile or mouth promises, telling him don’t worry, I won’t leave you.
He no longer looked at Xiao, but at the horizon, the star-studded sky and the rolling hills in the distance.
A place so distant. So far away. So unreachable.
“…I have to go, Xiao. I have to leave.”
Then Xiao understood. He didn’t want just a taste of freedom, lying in the grass at night with the window open. He wanted to be surrounded by it. To be in it. To let go of this world, to move on to a new one, a world he’d never imagined before. He wanted to forget. He wanted to move on.
He wanted to leave Xiao.
Tears pricked Xiao’s eyes.
“You can’t, you can't leave me!” Xiao tugged at Bo’s sleeve, pulling him backwards.
The truck was here, tumbling down the main road, stopping in front of the trash cans lined up like a sacrifice.
“Let go, Xiao.”
His grip only tightened, and Bo’s previously calm expression knitted into one of frustration.
“Let go!”
Bo struggled against Xiao. The truck was almost here, slowing down. They were still standing by the side of the gate, just fifty feet away.
“Please, Bo, don’t leave me here. I can’t leave. I’ll be all alone.”
“Why can’t you just let me go?!” Desperation tightened his voice, and Xiao could see the strain in his eyes.
“Because… I care—”
“Then don’t!!” Bo yanked his hand from Xiao’s, voice raspy and strained and so, so loud. “Can’t you see? We were so happy, so happy, until everything was ruined! And after that they strapped down in this fucking excuse of a place, and now that I want to find my happiness back you just can’t let me go? Archons, Xiao, stop being so selfish!”
Helpless tears fell down Xiao’s face. What happened to his brother, the brother he knew so much about? Bo’s once clear and loving eyes were now shrouded by a pooling heat of hatred.
“Please, Bo, please—”
Xiao was just about to chase after Bo when a gruff voice rang out.
“Hey, what’re you two kids doin’? Tryna climb my truck?!”
The garbage truck driver had his window rolled down, and was peering through the dark at Bo’s approaching figure, before turning to stare at something behind Xiao. Xiao turned around. It was the mistress again, hair askew with half a night’s sleep and angry wide eyes illuminated by the truck’s headlights.
“You two? Again?!” Before Xiao could think, he and Bo were dragged by the wrists back into the gates.
In the distance, Xiao heard the garbage truck puttering away.
In the morning his wrists and calves stung. Red clung to his skin, warnings beaten into him from a ‘reckless escape attempt’.
Though his brother remained by his side, Xiao felt uneasy. He remembered those fervent eyes, angry mouth, loud, hateful words.
But Bo said nothing to Xiao, and seemingly felt nothing either. His eyes were once again coated in a sheen of indifference. They ate in silence, sat in silence. For the first time, Xiao wondered if he was ever enough for Bo.
The day passed slowly, each minute ticking by felt like a lifetime. Xiao was exhausted, confused, and hurt. He wished he knew what was going on, but his soft questions were all met with a shield of ignorance. He wished Bo was like before, he wished he could still understand him. He wished he could trust him.
Did Xiao believe in Bo? Yes, yes, he did.
But did Bo believe in him?
Beside Xiao, Bo slept with his head facing away, gaze directed towards the windows.
Always towards the windows, no longer towards Xiao.
Frustration melted into a whirlpool of sleep, pulling him into his dreams, where he dreamed of light blue curtains dotted with bird illustrations, the sun, and Bo’s teasing smile that pricked him with the golden rays of innocence.
It was early in the morning when Xiao woke up to distressed whispers. In his blurry vision he could make out not one, but three mistresses, whispering just by his bed. He turned his head to Bo.
Turned to Bo, sleeping on his right, where often a light snore escaped, accompanied by the rise and fall of his chest.
Bo, who was always next to Xiao.
But Bo wasn’t there.
For the first time, when Xiao opened his eyes once more, Bo wasn’t there.
In his place lay a thin sheet of paper, with one messy word scrawled out.
Sorry.
“Wait— kid, come back! kid, get back this instant!!”
Mistresses scrambled after him but he ran, legs swinging out the window and breath scraping against his throat.
No.
No, it couldn’t be.
He couldn’t just leave without saying anything. He couldn’t have, because the brother Xiao knew would never do that. He would have shaken Xiao awake again. He would never.
No, there was no garbage truck today, where could he have gone? But— but—
Everywhere officers shone their flashlights, shouting across the grass.
Where’d the kid go?
That way, down the road, I suppose. Should we go after him?
Those weren’t his footprints. Those weren’t his.
Hey, kid! Get back here, you brat!
What, there’s another kid?
Is he going after the other kid?
No, no, no, no, no no no no no.
It was.
It shouldn’t be.
But it was.
But he would never.
But the evidence was all here.
But why?
Tears ran down Xiao’s face in choked sobs.
Was it all his fault that Bo was miserable? Was it his fault that he felt trapped? Was it all his fault that he left?
Whatever it was, he was sorry, he was so sorry, he would do anything so long as Bo came running back towards him.
So long as his eyes met Xiao’s again, bright and cheeky, just like before, just like when nothing mattered.
Why couldn’t things just stay the same?
Please, don’t leave.
Xiao ran down the road, leaving the officers behind.
He almost saw his brother running in the distance, too, belting out his favorite song, voice carrying along the winds, along the winds that took him away.
Xiao’s breath was smuggled by desperation, his bare feet stung by the cruel asphalt road, but still he chased after the sun rising in the distance, after his hope, after the very last person there was.
“Bo!”
“What if one day when we’re playing Marco Polo, I can’t find you?”
“Bo!” Please.
“Then I’ll make sure to shout as loud as I can, so that even over all the cicadas and crickets and rain, you’ll hear me!”
“Bo—Marco!” Please.
“Okay… then, promise?”
“Marco! Marco, Bo, please.” Can’t breathe.
“Promise! Let’s stay together until… we’re old and gray!”
“BO!” You promised.
Marco, Marco, but no answer.
There are no cicadas or crickets or rain, so why is it that I can’t hear you?
He was gone, far away into the distance, into the next world, without him.
Without me.
Xiao’s knees gave out, and he curled into them, sobs and screams crawling up his throat, body shaking with words unsaid and the sudden, all-devouring loneliness that swallowed him whole.
He could have stayed.
He had eyes and a mind and a heart, he could have.
He knew it would hurt, worse than death, because he was alive, he knew he could have.
He’d seen how closely Xiao clung to him. He’d known how much they’d gone through together, how much they’d told each other and laughed with each other and mattered to each other.
He knew he was all that Xiao had left.
He knew that he’d left Xiao behind.
He knew that Xiao was still here, with eyes and a mind and a heart too.
He could have stayed.
But he didn’t.
And lodged in his lungs was the cruel, horrible, numbing realization— nothing he did would have stopped Bo from leaving. There was nothing he could have done to stop his eyes from finding that window. And it twisted inside him, so disgustingly.
Nothing to be done, how horribly hopeless Xiao felt.
It hurt, squeezed Xiao’s chest and wrung him dry. His throat was grainy and his feet bled and his knees were scraped but what hurt most was his throbbing, throbbing heart.
___________________
Before Xiao could wipe them away, tears fell down their familiar paths, down his cheeks, down his chin, like bittersweet summer rain.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He wouldn’t hurt her like he hurt him. It wouldn’t be the same, he wouldn’t let it. He would keep his distance, and he wouldn’t make any mistakes, and then everything would be okay.
___________________
Little sparrow had no wings,
but oh, how you could sing,
of the skies and fading light
of the world that lit your eyes so bright
of a world I had not set foot before
of a world you could not see no more.
and you promised to stay by my side,
recount the stories of a time long past by.
But I should have known, I should have; for your eyes
only ever belonged to the faraway skies.
You said you don’t know when you’ll come back.
I said no, don’t say that.
But you had already slipped so far,
Brilliant figure lost in a swarm of stars
And I could no longer tell you apart.
Was it always so easy to let go?
Did it always hurt so hard to have a heart?
Notes:
亭子 - chinese pavilion (you can search it up, it’s usually for resting)
alrighty Xiao makes me genuinely sad :( also he was real young when this all happened too UGH
i tried to make the parent’s death more ambiguous because i feel like Xiao wouldn’t know that much or idrk LMAO but anyways i think i tried to convey that he spent a loot of time with his brother.
also idk if yall can tell but i do not write poems HAhaha….. just hit me with a brick cus that shit was foul 😭also i don’t mean to portray the brother in an ‘evil’ light, I just think Xiao and Bo had different personalities and they had different ways to cope. And i do think that Bo just couldn’t understand, or was too lost in his grief. Also tips/writing feedback GREATLY APPRECIATED!! yall i do not care if it sounds mean, i need to improve my writing, so.
Chapter 9: Nine
Summary:
in which Lumine talks to Xiangling :)
Chapter Text
These days the sun was getting lazier. When Lumine woke up, just thirty minutes before class started, the sun had just barely peeked over the mountains.
It was colder, too. When she stepped out of bed, goosebumps lined her skin, and she couldn’t get herself to pull off the covers.
Last night she hadn’t gotten much sleep, and now her eyelids drooped with the morning light.
It plagued her, the questions of what to do, what to say, when to say it, who to say it to. More than ever she wished Aether was here, or her mother, or just… someone.
But could she ever ask? If not even her mother had asked her for help, was there any way Lumine could ask someone?
It was Xiao that came to mind, the silent and attentive boy he was. But Lumine had turned his look of quiet care into one of fear, so there was no point in it now.
Friendships were easily licked away by the flames of misunderstanding, she supposed.
After washing up and checking the clock, Lumine realized just how late she was, and rushed for a piece of bread.
She wouldn’t take the risk of making an egg today, because with the amount of sleep she’d gotten last night, she couldn’t bother.
But then her stomach grumbled and she gave in.
Crack, sizzle, flip, plus a stubby Inazuman sausage. It was easy now.
She should’ve been proud of herself, but instead Lumine felt a faint uneasiness. It was weird to be alone in the kitchen, the only one eating at a table with four chairs. But what could she do? What did she know how to do?
Before she grabbed her bag, she saw the glass vase again, still in a plastic bag in her mother’s study. Some things are just harder to let go.
Xiao didn’t wait for her today.
He always did, even when they ended up being late and had to wall sit for the first period (though Lumine always gave up halfway).
But he wasn’t sitting on her front steps today, and Lumine knew why.
It was better this way. It was what she wanted, what she expected, but somehow it made her feel worse.
That wispy uneasiness settled in her stomach, all the way through first, second and third period, even through lunch.
In first period Lumine’s eyes bubbled with yawn after yawn, while Lyney chatted away about the famous Inazuman novel they were assigned for class.
It was a good book, but the language was replete with lavish similes and metaphors Lumine had no mind for. And she never really read it, most of her knowledge of the book came from Xiao’s study guide.
Lumine caught Xiao staring at her while she used the study guide, but the moment Lumine looked up his eyes turned back to face Kuni.
That discomfort in her stomach wriggled around.
In second period Xiao was awarded a small bird-shaped eraser for getting the highest score on a recent pop quiz, and Kazuha, the class president, came to collect everyone’s worksheets. Kazuha gave Lumine a worried look when she said she didn’t have her sheet for the third time in a row.
“Midterms are in two weeks, you know,” he said while collecting Lyney’s sheet.
“If you need any help, just ask, okay?”
Wiggle wiggle.
There it was again, that irritation, lining her intestines with confusion.
Third period was science. Or it should have been, but Mr. Albedo was not here, and Ms. Xianyun came in with the blue haired therapist that Lumine recognized all too well. She introduced herself as Ms. Mizuki.
“Today, let’s talk about opening up to others. Why don’t we start with a little introduction? Let’s give our names and something we’re scared of.”
Confident answers ran out across the room.
Spiders.
Injustice.
My sister.
What was Lumine scared of?
“What about you, Lumine?”
Ms. Mizuki directed her violet eyes at Lumine. So did the rest of the class.
“Uhm…”
Lumine looked down at her hands.
“What do you fear most?”
There were many things she feared. Dead cicadas, horror movies, sleeping in the dark after horror movies. She looked at her classmates and wondered if they thought these things were silly. She wondered if they would understand.
Isn’t that what you fear most?
She wondered what Xiao thought of her. She wondered if he was angry. She wondered what Mom thought of her. She wondered if she understood. She wondered if she had anyone to go to. She feared that she didn’t.
Being alone?
She feared that if she told everyone, they wouldn’t understand, and she would have to realize her fear and understand it by herself. She would have to see the unknown without another’s hands clasped in hers, another’s warmth shared to comfort her numbing fear.
“Maybe, you’ll see there are many people who are feeling just as lonely as you. And then you won’t feel as alone anymore.”
Isn’t that what she feared most? But what to do?
“So, what is it you fear?”
Take the first step, right? Tell someone? Say something?
“Um, I—”
Then those violet eyes turned to the girl beside Lumine’s table.
“I’ll come back to you, Lumine.”
Lumine clamped her mouth shut.
“Zhixing? What about you?”
Lumine clenched her hand. Was it right? Was that what she should’ve done?
“Haha! Tomatoes? Zhixing, you’re insufferable.”
Lumine’s ears flushed with embarrassment. Being alone? What a dense response.
Wiggle wiggle.
At lunch Xiao was gone, and so was Kazuha, leaving a grumpy Kuni sitting beside romantically awkward Chongyun and Xingqiu.
When Xiangling and Lumine came back with their trays of food, Kuni threw up his hands and pointed menacingly at flustered Chongyun and Xingqiu.
“Get a load of these two, holy Archons.”
Xiangling laughed at his outburst.
“Where did Xiao go?” Ganyu spoke up, eating her home-packed rice balls. Lumine almost dropped her tray.
“He went with Kazuha to their new poetry and art club. I don’t know why, ‘cause he can’t even write or draw.” Kuni sighed again, taking a big, angry swig of his seaweed soup before getting up and leaving, presumably to hunt down his friends.
Xiangling shot Lumine a curious look.
Of course, because she thought if Xiao went to a club he would ask Lumine to go too. Normally, he would. But it wasn’t very normal anymore.
Lumine only shrugged in response, sitting down quietly.
“What happened?” Xiangling asked softly, beneath the growing chatter and laughter.
“Um. Nothing, really,” replied Lumine, poking at the rice with her chopsticks.
It was okay. He was mad, and he should be, so there was nothing to talk about—
What do you fear most, Lumine?
This wasn’t about fear, this was about respecting his decision to not talk about it. If he didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t either, she wouldn’t have to explain it either—
“You know, anything you’re afraid of, I’ll listen. You’re my best friend, so don’t worry about anything, okay? Just tell me.”
When you’re scared, that’s all you allow yourself; maybe if you weren’t you’d see the world differently.
Was this it? But what could Xiangling do about it? Why did she need to tell other people about it? Wasn’t she the only one who could do something about this?
“Um…”
And was it right? Would Xiangling understand? Would she lose another friend? Would it become awkward?
“Um, well…”
A nervous lump grew in her throat, tugging at her tears, and she paused again.
What could Xiangling do about it? But what could Lumine do about it?
I don’t know, either.
Lumine gulped down her words and sat, eyes still staring through her rice.
But Xiangling’s earnest eyes were fixed on her, and her arm had wrapped around Lumine’s shoulder.
“Let’s go to the bathroom, ‘kay? You can tell me there.”
Lumine had grown so fond of her. Xiangling was always caring, always by her side —laughing or comforting her, whatever it was, she was always there— and she was always understanding.
She always knew what to say, how to look at Lumine, how to make Lumine feel seen but not overwhelmingly.
She always kept Lumine close to her heart.
She always knew.
And with that bright, bubbling attitude, so kindred, so familiar, how could Lumine ever feel uncomfortable? Sometimes she wondered if Xiangling was sent down to Teyvat by Aether.
But now, crouched in the big stall, Lumine couldn’t help but cry in the face of bright, comforting Xiangling.
A guilty embarrassment coated her like a second skin, and quiet tears ran down Lumine’s cheeks, teetering her incoherent words like a see-saw, unstable and unsure.
But here she was, with a voice, a tangible one, her own voice. Even if it was slowly, here she still was— wrenching out the fear she did not know how to hold, and presenting it to Xiangling; raw, unpolished, vulnerable.
And Xiangling’s expression never changed. Always she presented her those eyes, eyes that saw through her, that didn’t pity or curl in disgust.
Lumine looked back down at her shoes.
“Now… things are… this is all my fault.”
A short silence ensued, and embarrassment flared through her stomach.
She should have just kept it to herself. Did Xiangling think she was rude too? Ungrateful?
But still, it eased the scraping discomfort harbored in her gut. It ordered her mounting thoughts, and gave her something to latch onto beneath the starless sky. It was hard, embarrassing, but relieving.
And when was talking ever relieving?
Then Xiangling hugged her. Hesitantly, but resolutely.
Was that it? No anger? Pity? Judgement?
She whispered into Lumine’s back.
“The way you say it… as if you think you’re unworthy. But Lumine, I don’t think any of it’s your fault. And… honestly, I don’t know what to do, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”
She didn’t know what to do either, just what Lumine suspected. But somehow Lumine didn’t care anymore. Lumine put an arm around Xiangling as well.
“But, I think… Xiao and your mom, they’re not mad. They probably don’t know what to do either. If you talk to them a little more, things will change.”
“But, I don’t think they want to talk to me.”
Xiangling shook her head vehemently at Lumine’s words.
“It’s not like that, promise. You shouldn’t be afraid— well… of course being vulnerable is scary, and sometimes super embarrassing, but… it’s never as scary or embarrassing as you think it’ll be, when it’s with people that care about you. And we all care about you.”
Lumine nodded into Xiangling’s shoulder.
“Hm… how ‘bout I tell you my secret? In fourth grade, I knocked over my mom's favorite plant. So I tried to hide it behind some bushes, but… my mom found out. And I felt super bad at it, but she wasn’t as mad as I thought she’d be. I was crying, and she made me some soup with the flower to cheer me up. And it was okay.”
Xiangling pulled back to face Lumine, and gave her a cheeky smile.
“No matter the circumstances, when people are sad, lonely, lost, they’ll need someone to wipe their tears, or make them food. I could be that person for you, if you wanted.”
Well, actually… I think there are many people who would wanna be that person. Just… ask, like you did now. And… maybe you’ll learn about them too.”
Tears clouded Lumine’s vision again. So relieved.
A knot that had her throat swollen with fear was beginning to fray.
“You’re not a bad person, we don’t care how bad you think you are. Because you’re our friend, and we care about you. We’re not gonna get mad at you. That’s how friendship works, ‘kay?”
Lumine nodded again, and Xiangling wiped the tears from Lumine’s lashes.
“Okay… Thanks, Xiangling.” Lumine pulled Xiangling back into a hug, and they crouched there for a while, in the stall, the distant chatter of the cafeteria gradually fading away.
Xiangling wasn’t a therapist, she couldn’t say all the right things to make Lumine all better again.
But she was a friend, and she cared, and she tried, and she trusted.
That was all that mattered.
The first step.
Aether, are you proud?
Once Lumine and Xiangling came out of the bathroom, the rest of their friends were waiting by the table, seemingly waiting for the two to return. Kuni had returned before them, and sat in defeat beside Chongyun again.
Once Lumine and Xiangling came to the table, their friends crowded Lumine with concerns.
“Are you okay, Lumine?”
“Was it because of the two lovebirds? I can make them shut up.”
“Don’t listen to him, Lumine. But we hope you’re okay.”
Lumine nodded, and assured her friends.
“Don’t worry, I’m okay.”
Ganyu grabbed her hand.
“If there’s anything, or anyone—” she looked to Kuni, who rolled his eyes, “—bothering you, just tell us, okay?”
“You don’t have to be alone, Lumine.”
You are not alone, Lumine.
“…Okay.”
Xiangling gave her another smile.
Lumine had headed to the library, but Xiangling stayed back under the premise of going to the bathroom. She had to find Xiao.
Speaking of the devil.
Xiao emerged from the gym, obviously hiding from Lumine.
It was so childish, Xiangling thought, and ran up to him, before pointing an accusatory finger towards his chest.
“You! Stop right there.”
He froze, and looked to Xiangling.
“What?”
People said he was hard to read, but Xiangling found him awfully easy to see through. Now, his shoulders tensed and his eyes were fixed on a nearby wall.
“Why are you avoiding her?”
“I’m not.”
“You kinda just admitted it. I didn’t even specify who.”
“…”
“Well? Speak up, big champ.” Xiangling crossed her arms.
“It doesn’t concern you. Don’t call me Big Champ.”
“O-kay, big champ. But, make sure to talk to her. I think she likes it better that way.” She flashed him a smile. “We’re studying in the library, why don’t you come?”
“I don’t need to study.”
“What did I just tell you?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Just try, okay?”
He looked away again.
“She needs someone to talk to. And I think you know that too. So why can’t it be you?”
Silence ensued. His shoulders were still tense. Finally, after an eternity, he looked back up at Xiangling.
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s the spirit, big champ.”
“Stop calling me—!”
Before he could finish, Xiangling had already dashed off with her hands over her ears.
Soon, the bright smile Xiao told Xiangling about would be back on Lumine’s face.
Now Xiangling could only wait, and hope she helped her friend realize how easy it would be to find a hand to hold onto.
Notes:
Xiangling playing cupidddd <33333 next chap we’ll finally see more xiaolumi fluff!!!!
Chapter 10: Ten
Summary:
xiaolumi fluff and lumine is opening her eyes!!
Chapter Text
After talking with Xiangling, Lumine’s stomach didn’t bother her as much anymore.
She felt lighter, if that was possible.
Even in PE, when she had to run a mile, her mind felt unusually clear.
While she usually walked halfway through, this time she ran a little more.
But it still bothered her, however selfish the thought was; Xiao usually stopped by her when he lapped her, but today he didn’t.
The first time, Lumine didn’t even notice when he and Lynette whizzed by.
He was definitely angry.
But… Xiangling told her not to believe that. So was it worth a try?
“HURRY UP BACK THERE! LUMINE, YANFEI, KUNI!”
… It was something she’d have to worry about later.
After classes, Lumine went to the library and pulled out Xiao’s study guide. Her tears were still engraved in the paper, blurring some of the words.
She was getting better at exponents and could remember the rules of them with little difficulty now.
While she worked her way through the problems, Xiangling showed up with a giant smile on her face.
“Lumine!”
“Hey, Xiangling. I just got started on the exponents.”
“Oh, yeah, those… I’ll need help with them.”
“Yeah… me too.”
Xiangling picked her chair up and sat it down next to Lumine’s, before peeking over her shoulder at the papers stapled together.
“Ohhh, that’s what he was working on.”
Lumine looked up. “What?”
“Last time when you didn’t come to the library, Xiao was writing those notes. I asked him what he was doing, but he just ignored me.”
Lumine gave her a questioning look. “So you weren’t the one who drew these… drawings?”
Lumine pointed to the vaguely bird-shaped doodles that lined the edges of the paper.
Xiangling burst into laughter.
“Oh my god, no! Archons, it’s so ugly! There’s no way I drew those.”
Xiangling pulled the paper closer, to take a better look, and broke into another fit of laughter, cheeks blooming red like Jueyun chili blossoms.
“ Are you telling me… Xiao drew those? I thought you said he was pretty good at drawing! I could do so much better than that… Here, look.”
She took one of her pens and drew a squiggly bird next to Xiao’s abomination.
Lumine let out a small cough.
Xiangling’s eyes brightened at her reaction.
“You call that ‘so much better’?”
“Okay, Picasso. But I think anything would be better than whatever this is.” Xiangling tapped her pen disdainfully on Xiao’s bird.
“You’ve got a good point.”
Xiangling laughed and turned back to the worksheet in front of her.
Her mood shifted in a fraction of a second once faced again with those math problems.
As she grumbled and scribbled furiously on the first problem, trying to catch up with Lumine, Lumine drew a third bird, next to Xiao’s and Xiangling’s roadkill.
In a few quick strokes, she sketched out her favorite bird to draw— a sparrow.
She hadn’t drawn those in so long.
When Lumine finally walked out of the library, the sky was already lined with marmalade hues, the sleepy sun falling slowly, slowly behind a rolling sea of clouds in the distance.
The house was empty, dark and cold. The small portable heater wasn’t humming its mechanical melody, like it usually did.
Where’d her mom go? Maybe to Ms. Mizuki’s.
Lumine went back outside and sat on the steps, chin on her knees, watching the merchants come down the streets after a long day’s work.
Today she felt empty— but not hollow. Just airy, light, like the crisp wind that caressed her bare legs.
As she hugged her legs, she heard the hollow click of another front door closing shut.
It was Xiao.
Lumine looked over, just in time to catch his eye. He was staring at her too.
Should she go back indoors?
But…
He was coming this way.
Then he stopped, a few feet away. His eyes were averted, shoulders tensed.
He was nervous.
“Lumine. Your mom’s with my dad.”
“What happened?”
“…She was crying again.”
Again. It was a normal occurrence to him.
Xiao must have sensed her unease, because he added hastily, “Don’t worry, she’s been getting a lot better.”
“Is she still… mad at me?”
“No. She’s…no. It’s okay.”
Hesitation lined his words and his golden eyes.
Lumine sighed, and looked back down. Was he awkward because he didn’t want to talk to her?
“Are you mad at me?”
Now he looked at her, and managed to shake his head.
“…I’m sorry, Xiao. I didn’t mean anything. I just…” she gulped.
There it was again, her throat begging her to keep silent. But this time she swallowed it back down.
“I just… I don't know what to do.”
It ended in a whisper.
Xiao did not speak up, and Lumine couldn’t bear to lift her head to look at him.
Embarrassment climbed up her cheeks again.
It was already so awkward, but she’d gone and made it worse, what now, what did he think of her?—
“Well, also… your mom said it was never your fault. She never blamed you.”
Lumine looked up.
Xiao was fidgeting. He never fidgeted.
“So don’t… blame yourself for anything that happened. I wasn’t mad either. ”
Lumine didn’t know what to say, so she nodded.
“Um.”
His ears flushed red as the sky behind. Then he wavered a bit before tentatively sitting down on the step, right next to Lumine, eyes staring intently into his lap.
“I… really hope you can tell me stuff. So you won’t grow old— wait, sorry… um.”
Oh.
Was he trying to comfort her?
He didn’t know what to do either.
And in its own selfish, peculiar way, this fact made Lumine feel much less... unsure. Just like Xiangling told her.
It’s never as scary as you think it’ll be, when it's with people that care for you.
“I care about you too, Xiao.”
For a while they sat, watching the sun retreat and the moon wash the sky with an inky cobalt color.
It was getting colder. November was seeping into the air. Just a week away.
Stars were blinking into view, mapping out the endless darkness that swallowed the sun.
So many of them, so many parallelograms to trace out.
But where was that bird… had she forgotten where it was?
Lumine bit her lip and continued counting the parallelograms.
Six, seven, eight… the stars turned to a blur.
She wiped her tears before they could trace back down her cheeks, but he noticed anyways, and his eyes turned towards hers, concern etched in the furrow of his brow.
He opened his mouth, then wavered, and closed it again. But his gaze still lingered on her eyes.
Lumine lowered her head from the stars and looked to Xiao.
“What… should I do now?”
Look, Aether, at the sun.
He chewed on his lip, voice a soft, steady wave.
“What do you mean?”
Don’t worry, it’ll come back up tomorrow.
She looked up again, and sighed, searching for words, words she hadn’t used in so long.
“I’m… afraid.”
But… it’ll be dark for an entire twelve hours!
“…Don’t be afraid. Your mom still cares for you. So does Xiangling…”
His eyes shone into hers, brighter than any star, and right within reach.
No. There’s the moon. The stars are there too. There’s always gonna be light, if you look for it.
“…And, you have me too.”
And, I won’t run away like the sun does.
“So don’t be afraid, Lumine.”
So don't be afraid, Lu.
Xiao's hand found hers, like it always did. In the stars, in her tears, in her fears.
Even when Aether's hand wasn't there to hold anymore.
Even in the lightless sky, where only the all-encompassing loneliness shone.
But his hand was warm around hers, reminding her that even if she couldn’t see it yet, he was there for her.
Hmm, I don’t feel that afraid anymore.
Sometimes that’s all it takes, y’know? A reminder.
“I managed to figure out the exponents.”
“I knew you could."
“Yeah. Your study guide was really helpful. So thanks.”
“Mm. Did you look at the science part? The photosynthesis equations?”
“Um. Can… we go over that now?”
“Okay. But, um, let me bring some food over. We made a lot.”
“Okay. I’ll wait here.”
“…No, wait inside. It’s cold. You’re wearing shorts.”
“…Okay.”
Lumine let Xiao’s hand slide off of hers, before hefting herself up and dragging her backpack along.
Lumine turned the heater back on and prepared two cups of water before setting her stuff down by the dining table.
She pulled out the study guide, and mindlessly flipped through the pages, stopping at the page with the three bird drawings.
Hesitantly, she pulled out her pen again, and drew a fourth one, for Aether.
She drew his favorite bird, a nightingale. He once told her how they were often locked up because they were so pretty, and often could do nothing about it. They were beautifully tragic.
It’s so unfair, he’d told her, after he’d read a story book on nightingales.
They can see the sky, but they can’t ever reach it. They can fly, but now they can’t.
Unlike the other three birds that stood with their wings folded and heads pointed towards the sky, Lumine drew Aether’s nightingale in full flight.
I’m sorry, Aether.
But before that familiar ache could build up in her throat, the front door clicked open and Xiao came in, quietly announcing his presence with a cough.
Lumine heard him slip off his shoes, before he appeared in the dining room with a bag filled with glass containers of warm dishes.
He took the dishes out of the bag and placed them on the table, before bringing Lumine a bowl and chopsticks from her cupboard.
He then settled into the seat next to Lumine’s, arms crossed.
”Eat.”
“Wait, can we study first?”
“No. Eat first.”
“’Kay.”
Under Xiao’s gentle scrutiny, Lumine ate.
Rice buns filled with rich mushroom and pork, stir-fried green beans, softened eggplant tossed in thick soy-glazed sauce.
“This is good. Thanks, Xiao.”
“Mm. You should… eat more. You barely ate.”
”I’ll save it for mom. She’ll probably be hungrier than me.”
Xiao said nothing, and nodded. “But if you’re still hungry…”
Lumine waved him off, and helped him snap the lids back on the glass containers, before washing her bowl and chopsticks.
After she finished and dried her hands on her favorite yellow towel, she turned to head back to the table.
Xiao was already hunched over the study guide, adding small notes by his page on photosynthesis.
It was the page with the horrible tree diagram, the one that looked like it had been bombed five times. But he didn’t seem to notice a problem with his tree, and continued to scribble around it.
…Come to think of it, when was the last time Lumine had sat at this table with another person?
She’d always thought the person sitting in the seat beside her would be Aether.
But it wasn’t, it never would be.
Yet Xiao’s presence, filling that empty seat beside her, reminded her of something she’d missed almost as much as her brother.
A gesture so small, yet so relieving. Sitting there, carefully rewriting his notes.
Drawing her that ugly, stupid tree, standing awkwardly on the page— imperfect, bold, sincere.
He cared, he tried, he trusted.
And when she blinked her eyes, he was still sitting there, scribbling with his ballpoint pen.
The dull ache in her throat blurred her vision once more.
But this time, all she could feel was relief.
It was okay now. It would be okay. She didn’t need to worry.
“Lumine… are you okay?” He had turned around and was eyeing her softly.
”Your tree…”
Lumine looked back at Xiao, a small smile dancing in her eyes. He must have seen it, because his eyes widened a little, and his quick replies dissolved into muddled responses.
“Um… yeah, my tree.”
She sat back down in her seat.
“Anyways… I made more notes for you. Take a look and tell me if something’s confusing.”
“Yeah. Thank you, Alatus.”
Thank you for reminding me.
“You got everything right.”
“Yeah. But I still feel like I’ll need more practice.”
“Review it more tonight. I’ll come to your house after my morning practice tomorrow. I can quiz you while we walk to school.”
“Since when did you have morning practice?”
“Tomorrow’s my first one. The coach says I have potential.”
“…Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Review some of your math tonight too. You have bad short-term memory.”
“Bye, Alatus. Out the door.”
“…and your history. You never remember the dates.”
“Bye. Get out.”
Before Lumine could close the door on his face, she caught sight of his faint smile.
The door closed with a click. And staring back at her in the mirror by the door, was another smile.
Her own.
Thank you for trying so hard to stay my friend.
Thank you for trying so hard to care about me.
I’ll try my best from now on, too.
Lumine made her way back into the kitchen.
The food Xiao had brought over was still on the table.
She made sure all the containers were capped tightly and would stay warm, hopefully until her mom came home.
Then she hesitated, before pulling out a small yellow sticky note and scrawling out the feeling she’d dragged around for too long.
Sorry.
She stuck it to her mom’s favorite dish, the stir-fried eggplant, before sitting down and pulling out Xiao’s study guide.
This time she wouldn’t run away. She’d talk to her mom, and it would be okay.
Then, following Xiao’s study advice, she went over photosynthesis and cellular respiration, writing her notes in neat lines below Xiao’s questions.
Lumine looked toward the clock by the stove, but she couldn’t read it. Too dark.
What time was it?
Her eyelids were drooping, and she yawned to keep her fatigue from pulling her into sleep.
Her mom wasn’t back yet. It was late, where was she?
Lumine couldn’t give up now, she had to talk to her mom, because today she didn’t feel afraid.
…But she felt so, so tired.
But she knew what to say today, she had thought of it and written it down.
She knew all of the apologies to make, how to say them, and when.
So she decided just to wash up and wait for the familiar soft click of the door. Then she would have nothing to worry about anymore.
After a quick shower Lumine brought her study guide into her bedroom, clicking on the small duck lamp her mom had bought for her.
There she stayed, staring at the guide, imagining herself hugging mom again.
Then her eyelids lowered, and before she could yawn once more, she found herself drifting farther and farther away, into her first dream of many nights.
A dream of a nightingale soaring into the misty sky, carrying the moon and gathering the stars, and bringing them back down for those who couldn’t find them.
Notes:
i think since lumine is still a kid, all she needs is some good support and encouragement cus children are more resilient. xiao is gonna do wonders for her 😍🤑 next chapter is some more fluff and we'll see if lumine can find the courage to talk to her mom anytime soon!
(Previous comment deleted.)
bungybonbon on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 04:27AM UTC
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