Work Text:
555
on the last day before the end of the world, kaeya visits his brother.
it was a three-hour drive to the ranch, and kaeya finds diluc tending to the cattle as he pulls over by the farmhouse. it is a little after daybreak, and kaeya hesitates as he takes the first step onto the place he hadn’t returned to since the day their father passed.
“kaeya?” diluc says when he sees the outline of his brother, wiping way the light sheen of sweat that has formed on his face as he does so. “kaeya,” he repeats when kaeya stands before him, like he can’t believe it, like it’s an incantation that will draw him nearer.
“it’s been a while,” kaeya greets, hands buried in his pockets, turning his head to look at the vast expanse of decaying land just to not have to meet diluc’s imploring gaze. “do you need any help?”
diluc looks like he has a lot to say, mouth parting open with surprise, maybe bewildered at how that’s the first thing kaeya has to say to him in fourteen months. “not really,” he says, and must notice the way kaeya deflates, because he quickly explains, “the heat hasn’t been very good for the animals, so there aren’t very many of them left. still, you could come in. have you eaten breakfast?”
the farmhouse had been repainted, and it reminds kaeya of that day in spring many, many years ago when their father had asked them what colour they wanted their home and him and diluc had argued over blue and red, eventually ending up with a pale blue, and a bright red door – a strange sight that has kaeya yearning for simpler times as diluc pushes open a set of white doors.
as kaeya steps inside, he looks at the mantlepiece by the fireplace, the many framed photos and small trinkets that have collected dust from time. the framed pictures are messy and disorganised with ones of him and diluc, one of their father, many of diluc and ajax – and kaeya peers closer at the smallest picture of ajax. he doesn’t have to ask who took the photo – who else but diluc would see ajax the way the picture paints him, a crooked-toothed boy with a lopsided grin as the picture captures him mid-laugh. he couldn’t be any older than thirteen at the time.
it’s the only photograph wiped clean of dust.
kaeya looks away. “what happened to ajax?”
he’s littered everywhere throughout the house – from the neatly arranged boots placed alongside diluc’s grime-covered ones that are splayed across the floor to the lines of fishing poles balanced between shelves – all suggesting that this is ajax’s home as much as it is diluc’s, but the lines underneath diluc’s eyes tell kaeya otherwise.
from the kitchen, diluc turns to look at him, eyes flitting from him to the mantlepiece then back to the egg he’s frying. the sizzling of hot oil on the pan fills the momentary silence. “the space station returned his things three months ago.”
kaeya inhales. he regrets bringing ajax up in the first place but wonders if diluc would have even told him if he hadn’t asked. he finds the latter infinitely more upsetting.
“i never liked him,” is what he says instead, and diluc laughs.
it’s true, kaeya thinks, because he knew even fifteen years ago that his brother falling in love with a boy who’s only ever dreamed of the stars could only end in heartbreak. and so, when ajax had moved away the summer kaeya turned sixteen, leaving diluc behind with red-rimmed eyes and a promise that was just that – a promise – he thought that this would be the end of it. that this would be good for a heart like his brother’s, one that holds too much, and lets go too little.
then of course, ajax had come back for diluc, suddenly emboldened after becoming the youngest astronaut to embark to space – ten years too late, according to kaeya, but by then kaeya was no more a part of diluc’s life than ajax has been for the past decade so he had kept his mouth shut when he got the wedding invitation in the mail.
kaeya didn’t go, of course. but he had kept the invite buried under other letters in his office drawer, something to return to when he pondered about useless things like if the choice of a summer wedding was diluc’s idea or ajax’s, or when picking a best man, whether diluc’s mind had ever gone to kaeya.
“i never liked any of your boyfriends,” kaeya continues, as he watches diluc in his work.
“i know,” comes diluc’s response, soft and mellow. it sounds like acceptance, the kind that comes from years of practice, and that stirs something ugly in kaeya’s gut.
so, kaeya adds, “but i disliked ajax the least, just so you know.”
diluc sets a plate of freshly whipped-up breakfast in front of kaeya, crispy bacon cooked to a golden brown and two sunny side up eggs staring back at him, just how he liked them as a child. he accepts this meal with a murmured, thanks, and forgets how he’s preferred his eggs scrambled for the last three years.
“aren’t you angry?” kaeya asks, as he’s chewing the last bite of his meal.
diluc, in the chair adjacent to his, pauses in the idle stirring of his tea and looks at him curiously. “about what?”
“just,” kaeya tries, “about everything, i suppose. it’s like the whole world has moved on and taken everything you cared about along the way – you know, like father, and ajax and the cattle too – but you’re still here.”
“you’re here too,” diluc tells him, and kaeya falters.
he hadn’t let himself entertain that thought, that he still held a place amongst the things and people diluc loves, worried that if he did, the truth might hurt more than he could bear.
“how is jean?” diluc asks conversationally.
kaeya hums. “she’s been devoting her time to the church. i think that’s what a lot of people are doing, with everything that’s going on, you know? it’s nice to have something to go to when there’s nothing left.”
“and you?”
kaeya, once upon a time, had sworn that he’d follow jean to the ends of the earth. but what is he meant to do when she goes somewhere he can’t? kaeya loves jean, and he doesn’t think there could exist a universe where he doesn’t, and she loves him too, just as fiercely, just as loyally. that was made clear when she had pressed a final kiss to his lips, and whispered to him, you should go home, too, kaeya.
he shrugs, non-committal. “i don’t think religion is meant for people like me.”
diluc hums. “i don’t think so either.”
444
there is an obvious elephant in the room, an elephant that is shaped like a whole that splits into two halves that grow smaller and smaller as the days pass, an elephant that is not really an elephant but rather two brothers that grow apart and realise that they don’t fit together like they did anymore, that the whole is no longer whole, that too much has happened and too much time has passed for them to pretend that nothing has happened and that nothing is wrong.
neither of them speaks a word of it, however, and instead they spend the afternoon tending to whatever is left of the pastures. kaeya asks him if any of the horses had survived, and diluc averts his eyes as he tells him that they were the first to die.
still, he takes kaeya to the stables, or what remains of it, at least and looks away when kaeya stands where his favourite horse once stood, eyes wet. in a child’s messy scrawl, the name hurricane is drawn in blue crayon and kaeya still remembers her as a pony – his father had given her to kaeya for his tenth birthday, a beautiful spotted appaloosa.
he wipes the stray tear from his cheek and picks up a stray horseshoe belonging to hurricane as he does. kaeya stuffs it into his pocket and asks diluc what else there is left to see.
in the afternoon sky, the sun looms nearer to the earth than she ever had in the past millions of years and kaeya wonders how it would feel when the sun finally kisses the surface of the world and takes every living creature on it as she does so.
what a deadly love, kaeya wonders, and decides that whether it is the sun and the earth, an astronaut and a humble rancher, or even just a girl and a boy, to love is to be doomed. but by the gods, the moment before the very end, before the collapsing of life as one knows it, it is the most beautiful thing the seven stars has to offer.
they visit the cattle, the same ones diluc had been tending to in the morning and as kaeya and diluc feed them hay, kaeya can’t help but ask, “why bother with this?”
when it’s the end of the world , lies unsaid, but diluc understands. he offers kaeya a small smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. kaeya hates the sight of it. “well, the cows don’t read the news, and i think they’d be sad if i left them alone. also, i like routine, and i didn’t know you were coming. so i’m doing what i always do.”
“let’s go for a drive,” kaeya offers. a part of him can’t bear to stay here. another part of him can’t stand the fact that diluc is acting as if his presence doesn’t change anything. that they’re somehow beyond the point of change.
“okay.” diluc nods. “i’ll pack us lunch.”
333
ten minutes on the road, diluc asks, “why did you come to see me, kaeya?”
the radio is playing a song kaeya can’t recognise, a love song about star crossed lovers and they pass by two windmills before kaeya finds it within himself to reply. it’s a wasteland by this point, and kaeya wonders why he waited so long to return, why he only came back when there was nowhere else for him to go.
the truth is that he came because he missed his brother, that he regrets that it took an apocalypse for him to realise that he doesn’t have all the time in the world to ignore how the last he saw diluc it had been at an event kaeya had been forced to attend and that the only words they exchanged were, how are you? and i’m fine, you? before they turned their backs to each other, itching to get away from any reminder of their past, of a time when they had known each other better than any other soul.
kaeya hates that diluc never reached out to him, hates that he didn’t bother to, either and he hates most of all the fact that he still doesn’t know how.
“i don’t know,” kaeya lies. his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel, baffled and humiliated at how he doesn’t know how to talk to his own brother.
the radio is playing shitty music not just because kaeya doesn’t know what kind of music diluc listens to anymore, but also because he doesn’t know how to ask him what do you like now? because it forces him to confront the fact that he simply doesn’t know these things about diluc anymore – knowledge that once would have been at the tip of his fingers feels like grasping at texts written in a language he can’t understand, a tongue he’s forgotten how to speak.
“that’s okay,” diluc says, idly switching the channels until a pop song starts playing, the kind that kaeya would hear bleeding out from the sides of barbara’s headphones or in the mall as he’s babysitting klee. “i’m just glad you came.”
he hums to the tune, and kaeya blinks at him in disbelief. “you like this sort of stuff?”
diluc smiles, and this time it reminds kaeya of childhood, of brotherhood, of forts made of way too many throw pillows and blankets. “ajax loved pop songs,” he says, “i would play them when i missed him, you know, when he went away for work. it grew on me, i think.”
they stop by a clearing, finding a spot in the shade covered by a large oak tree. its leaves are bleached from the harsh rays of light, and diluc unfolds a faded red picnic blanket on the dying grass. kaeya bites into the sandwich diluc packed, eye widening when he tastes bitter and tangy orange.
“you hate marmalade,” kaeya gasps.
diluc shrugs. “i had some left over.”
kaeya once knew diluc, and likewise, diluc had once known kaeya, known that kaeya loves marmalade when diluc hates it. what kaeya also knows is that all day, diluc has been telling kaeya in the only way he knows how to, that kaeya isn’t the only one who wants to fix this.
“i think i’ve been rather out of the loop when it comes to everything pertaining to you,” kaeya begins, “and so i just have one question for you and if your answer is anything along the lines of, i’m fine , then i’ll be vaguely insulted that you think i don’t know when you’re lying. okay?”
diluc hums, the corners of his mouth twitching up.
kaeya takes in a deep breath. “how are you?”
222
kaeya almost doesn’t believe it when he finds his old bedroom untouched.
he never would have imagined all along, that just as kaeya had been wishing diluc would come and look for him, pay him a visit or just send a call, that diluc would hope that kaeya would return to the place they once called home.
“it’s not like we needed the extra space,” diluc explains as kaeya’s eyes study the ancient relics of his teenagehood, mouth agape, “and i wouldn’t know where to put everything away, anyway.”
there are posters of bands that have long disbanded, shelves lined with dusty old comic books and kaeya wishes a part of him from those simpler times could have been carefully preserved like this.
as they sit on kaeya’s old bed, the old frame creaks underneath their combined weight. “what would you have done if i never came by today?”
“i would have been miserable,” diluc admits, painfully honest.
“would you not have gone to see me?” kaeya asks, desperate to know what diluc is thinking.
diluc frowns, an uncomfortable look on his face. it takes a moment for kaeya to recognise that look as shame. “i don’t know where you live.” it comes quietly, like a hushed confession, one meant just for his ears. “how did it ever reach this point, kaeya? why did we let it?”
kaeya swallows back the bile threatening to climb up his throat, ignores how that’s the saddest thing he’s ever heard his brother say and instead reaches for an old notebook on his desk. using a neon orange glitter pen that’s been left abandoned much like everything else this room holds, he scribbles his address on a blank page and rips it out.
handing it over to diluc, he says, “here. sorry if it’s a little overdue.”
diluc takes the little folded piece of paper gingerly and lets out a shaky exhale. “no,” he protests lightly, “it’s perfect.” if diluc’s voice comes off a little thick, kaeya makes no mention of it.
“please come by some day,” kaeya requests, and he knows it’s an impossible plea, but he can’t help but ask anyway.
“i would love to,” diluc replies, and for the first time that day, kaeya beams.
111
for the big finale, the two brothers sit by the large porch with a clear view of the horizon.
it’s just a little while before sunset, when everything will come to a close and sweat has begun to cling to every inch of kaeya’s skin. diluc’s face has gone all pink from the crawling heat and kaeya teases him for it, telling him he resembles a tomato. he takes a picture of diluc like this, ignoring his string of protests with an old film camera he dug from underneath his bed.
“i wish we never fought,” kaeya says, “i wish we could have stayed as kids forever.”
diluc shakes his head. “it’s too late for regrets, kae.”
“okay,” kaeya agrees, nearly feverishly, “okay, you’re right. there’s no point in regrets, but gods, i wish i learnt how to ride a bike.”
diluc looks at him, an undecipherable look in his eyes. “father never taught you?”
“no,” kaeya says, “he never got the chance to.”
diluc gets up, so abruptly that it startles kaeya. “i can teach you,” he says, and he sounds so serious that kaeya lets out a short bark of laughter.
kaeya glances over at the sky, the roaring ball of fire burning back into his retinas. “is there still time?”
“there’s all the time in the world,” diluc promises, and kaeya believes him.
they find an old bicycle in the shed and it’s rusty with the paint chipping off, but kaeya insists that it’ll make do. he never imagined that learning to ride a bike would be scary, but finds himself screaming anyway when diluc lets go, reminding him terribly of when their father was the one teaching diluc and kaeya had been watching, laughing when his brother fell but offering him a band-aid anyway.
he falls, scraping his knee as he does so, and diluc laughs at him when kaeya glares up at his brother. he doesn’t know whether it’s the backdrop of the sun behind him, or if it’s just seeing his brother smile in a way that’s so unguarded and carefree, but kaeya feels as though he’s momentarily blinded.
it takes a lot of convincing for kaeya to finally agree to pedal on his own, without diluc behind to hold on for balance, and all the while, diluc tells him, “come on, kaeya! don’t think too hard, just focus on cycling towards me!”
kaeya looks ahead at diluc, who’s only standing a couple of meters away, and shouts, “you better watch me, luc! i’m really doing it this time!”
000
kaeya reaches diluc just about half a second before the sun reaches the earth. he collapses into the waiting arms of his brother, their combined laughter ringing clear in his ears, just as the world crumbles with the crushing embrace of the most brilliant star of them all.