Chapter Text
"starconch"
Lumine couldn’t sleep. It was one of those nights where her mind had started to go down the rabbit hole of her missing brother, and her mind just couldn’t quiet no matter how hard she tried.
She decided to stroll around Liyue Harbor, where she was currently staying while helping out Zhongli. Paimon wanted to accompany her, but Lumine insisted that the tiny fairy stayed put. She wanted to be alone for a while. She loved Paimon, and how the little guide would take her mind off things, but she wanted some quiet.
Even at night, the harbor was still aglow with life, the lanterns hazily casting a romantic light on the stone pathways while soft chatter filled the air from restaurants and shops. The smell of barbecue meat and grilling fish wafted through the air.
Walking through the streets, Lumine smiled, just a bit. She couldn’t help but feel a little warmer being in Liyue. Her stay in Mondstadt had been a stressful time, relatively speaking. Here in Liyue, however, she felt like she could breathe—even if just for a little—and meeting these odd characters had put some laughter in her heart. She was glad to have met these people: Zhongli, Qiqi, and yes, even Childe.
Lumine pursed her lips. Childe. A member of the Fatui. A Harbinger.
She was still wary of him, of course, but he hadn’t done anything to hurt her or her friends…yet. In fact, she had to admit, he had helped her (and Zhongli) out a lot recently. So, her guard was coming down. Just a bit.
Lumine sighed as she approached the edge of the village. Now what?
She could turn around and head back to Paimon, but her mind didn’t feel quite settled yet. She looked ahead of her; she could either go down to the docks, or to the little stretch of beach down the way. Not wanting to talk to the boat workers, she set off towards the beach.
The sounds of the harbor faded and gave way to gentle rustling of waves lapping against the shore as she approached the beach. As she walked closer to the water, she noticed a figure in the sand. She stopped and squinted, assessing who—or what—was ahead of her.
Definitely human. Looked like they were wearing gray attire. A red mask atop a heap of orange-brown hair.
Childe?
He sat in the sand, looking out at the endless sea, with his elbows on his knees. He was mindlessly turning something in his hand, over and over again. It looked like a seashell.
His usually cheerful face was…forlorn. Lumine had never seen him look so sad.
Should I leave him be? Looking at his somber expression, she decided he probably wanted to be left alone.
She went to step back, when suddenly she tripped over a half buried boat sticking out of the sand with a loud THUNK.
WHOOSH. There was the sound of rushing water, and Lumine looked up to see Childe had drawn his bow, and was aiming directly at her head. His icy blue eyes met hers. The cloudy darkness in them dissipated upon seeing who it was.
“Lumine?” he said, lowering his bow. It vanished with a splash. “What are you doing here?”
She swallowed the initial fear down her throat. “I couldn’t sleep.” She shrugged. “What about you?”
He gave her a tight smile. “I guess it’s the same for me. The sea has always been calming.”
There was a slight hint of resentment. Was he lying? Why would he lie about that?
“Would you agree?” Childe asked.
Lumine walked and stood next to him. “Yes, I would say so.”
He sat down. “Sit with me,” he invited. She did.
The two sat side by side, silently listening and watching the water lap up near them.
Lumine glanced at Childe. His expression resonated a deep sadness, something she never expected from him. What is he thinking?
Childe caught her gaze. Lumine quickly turned her head back towards the water, her cheeks feeling warmer than before.
He chuckled. “Is there something on my face?”
“Nope.”
“Whatever you say.”
Without even looking at him, she could hear his smirk in his voice.
She turned her attention to the sand, noticing a blue shell. She picked it up, dusting it off. It was one of the shells Childe had in his hand. A blue striped shell, with what looked like a star in the middle.
“A starconch.”
Lumine looked at Childe; he was holding up his own conch, staring at hers.
“They say if you hold it close to your ear, you can hear the longing calls of the sea.”
Longing.
She hesitantly raised it to her ear.
“What do you hear?” he asked.
She closed her eyes and listened. After a beat, she swore she heard laughter. A laugh she hadn’t heard for an eternity.
Aether.
Her heart clenched.
“I…” She bit the inside of her cheek. “I hear my hometown,” she lied.
His eyes held on her for a long second, then he looked out at the vast ocean.
“I hear a whale.” He raised his own starconch up to his ear. “Whales, you know, call out to each other underwater. It’s quite loud.” He closed his eyes. “But sometimes we can’t even hear them. Sometimes, they can’t even hear each other.”
“How sad,” he said. He closed his fist around the starconch. “How incredibly…lonely.”
Yes, very.
Did Childe lose someone close to him as well? Did he never have anyone to begin with?
She frowned looking at him. How much she missed his boisterous chuckles right now.
Lumine grabbed his hand. His head snapped to what she was doing.
“What are you-”
“Here,” she said, shoving her starconch into his palm.
He raised an eyebrow. “Why are you giving this to me?”
She closed his fingers around it. “Maybe your whale won’t be so lonely anymore.”
Childe stared at her.
Then, a smile. Soft. It was a genuine smile, Lumine could tell. One buried deep within. She returned his smile.
“Yes,” Childe said. “I don’t think he’s so lonely anymore.”