circuitice | CALL ME OUT

[ the idea of a bar having after hours is a bit of an oxymoron. taverns exist to serve in the after hours. the definition of after ranges based on its clientele. for a housewife, the after hours is three hours after noon when her child has finally acquiesced to a nap and the laundry is still-fluttering along its seam on its line. for a knight of the favonius, after hours is seven in the morning after an overnight shift watching over the fata morgana rise of a mondstadian sunrise. for a vigilante patrolling the city afterdark, there is no such thing as after hours. there is a reason why rosaria drinks at will. there is a reason why diluc doesn't drink at all, but it has never been said that those reasons must coincide. the after hours of after hours, then, is a world unto a world. in the odd pre-dawn hours before those who live the darkness passes like low-skimming asymptotes those who wakes with live the light, diluc takes the time to fully unlock the back door to the angel's share, before walking back to the bar to continue cleaning after the day's glasses.

there is no misconception about the reason behind the naming of the tavern. there is a misconception regarding its source. charles is quick to explain over a passed pint or the slide of a margarita glass that when distilling liquor in cellars, a small portion of the liquor would inevitably be absorbed by the barrels, or evaporated during distillation. no barrel filled at the time of aging will remain full by the time the casks are cracked open once more, bounty quartered and shared. brewers often refer to this lost portion as 'the share of angels', and thus the name of the tavern. the reference itself is true. truth is often the greatest of distractors. give a scenthound what it is searching for, and it will be pulled by the leash off its trail by its owner.

it was kaeya who taught diluc this, deep in the hush of diluc's room when they were fifteen, gangly limbs thigh-to-thigh in a bed meant for one, luminous eyes in the darkness. it had been kaeya who taught diluc this again on a raining night the day the flame died, leaving behind ash and the sheen of midwinter ice, unseasonably so for an autumn so mild. it follows that it had been kaeya whom crepus had taught the basics of brewing one midsummer day, and who had brought it up to diluc years later, when both of them stood on opposing sides of a cavalry line. that no matter how many years you experience, the evaporation of them leave unseen gaps. you can live a life and not know how you got to where you were. you could get there, and look back, and know that in the gaps, the angels had taken their share after all.

tonight, the tavern is dark save for the illumination of candlelight at a polished bar. diluc listens for and identifies the creak of the back door as it opens and closes. he sets another glass aside, and picks out the mildest of his vintages. the drink is placed there between him and the edge of the bar, innocuous in its balance, as the owner of a set of familiar footsteps emerge.

diluc does not look up. he has never had to. ]

We're closed.

[ ah, the welcome he was already expecting the minute he stepped in. And yet, it doesn't stop him from entering in the rest of the way. How kind, to have the easy entry long after the other guests have left. To have the opportunity to drink dandelion wine in peace and quiet.

Normally, he would hate it, but absence makes the heart grow fonder. Sumeru was already a long journey, and he'd spent a week there just... conducting business.

He doesn't hate the quiet. It's one less guardrail that needs to be up. And so, he slides past the bar, and takes the drink, sitting opposite of Diluc. ]

Is that any way to treat one of your best customers, after I've been gone for so long? I surely thought that you would come to miss me by now, Master Diluc.

[ another contradiction: the glint of kaeya's words directly in contrast with the shadows from which he peels himself. the cool shade of the entranceway pulls away upon the gentle caress of flame. kaeya moves into the lamplight and diluc allows himself to look at him. it is not the revelation of two years ago, when diluc had returned from tearing a bloody gash into the world to a lean shadow along the parapet. but kaeya himself has always been a deliverance from shadow. to describe him solely with darkness is to miss the glint of his knife in flame.

diluc puts down another glass, and picks up another. his fingers travel along its rim, and then his cloth. ]

Miss you? [ as dry as the hypostyle: ] You have not given me the opportunity to. For the Knights of Favonius, two weeks in Sumeru is not enough time to achieve anything of significance.

[ translation: inefficienct. ]

[ and yet, he let him in. kaeya takes a sip of the drink Diluc has offered-- and he knows, this is just one step above grape juice. A punishment? No, he doesn't have reason to be mad, Kaeya supposes. he should consider giving him one, soon.

and so, once done, he sets the glass down, and runs his fingertip along the edge. ]

Oh? And here I thought I had quite the opportunity for you.

But, if we must doubt my abilities, then I suppose it can't be helped.

[ he picks up his glass, and has another sip ]

You know, the spices in Sumeru add another dimension to the taste of alcohol.

[ kaeya takes another sip. diluc's hands continue to work. the spices in sumeru, he says. it's the dangling of a rat's tail, a trailing tone begging argument. it is a snake in the grass, and it is a wisp of cloud in the sky. you never know, with kaeya. diluc once did.

but - it is, after all, attention. diluc's sidelong glance lingers. ]

Enough for your tongue? The rest of Mondstadt is unlikely to have tastes as peculiar.

Heh.

Is that so?

[ it is attention. and attention is what he wants, all things considered. with sumeru being more fruitful than he had originally hoped. than it had been the first time he snuck away there as a child. but he doesn't need to mention that-- instead, he needs to dangle this carrot, just a little longer, to prolong the conversation. ]

Then let its popularity among the people there speak for it, rather than myself. It's common for them to mix them amongst their cocktails. I had quite an adventure trying them.

Two weeks on business, one of which was spent flat-out drunk?

[ said with the full knowledge that that isn't kaeya. it had, after all, been the second time kaeya has attempted to go to sumeru. that it was officially sanctioned makes no difference - it's the fact that kaeya has returned which does. ]

That's no different than your usual. [ the obvious implication: that's no adventure. ] Try again.

Hm~?

[ he plays ignorant, recognizing there's an additional question there. But what's unspoken is easily pushed aside, lest it can be intuited.

And so he rests his cheek in the palm of his hand, tapping a finger on the bar lightly. ]

Master Diluc, I don't know if I should be offended at your implication or not.

[ diluc, who wasn't born yesterday, and who definitely didn't meet kaeya yesterday, levels him a look.

he reaches for yet another vintage, one that's slightly below the one that's slightly higher than raw grape juice, and pours kaeya another glass. the ice-cubes are nominal. the drink clinks as it's set once again before kaeya. diluc, leaning forward like a knife poised to cut, as level as a burning brand: ]

Be offended.

This is usually the opposite of how you'd loosen someone's tongue, honestly.

[ Kaeya sighs heavily, and though that fragile smile vanishes in a moment of annoyance, the mask he wears is still firmly in place. ]

What, I wonder, am I being punished for?

[ and he doesn't reach out for the new glass, instead folding his arms on the bar. He knows what Diluc is driving at, but there is an instinctual part of him that wants to protect him from that, as though he was ever honest about why he ran in the first place.

He'd given a childish excuse but... Diluc knew his secret, and had access to the same books as him.

but he should want nothing to do with that. ]

[ a flicker. kaeya, for a moment, is a fragment of something real. diluc looks. of course he does. he is but a man. he is a man who bleeds when cut. he is a man who bruises when hurt. he is a man who burns when put to the torch. kaeya folds his arms, and diluc knows that they are now beyond kaeya's version of small talk. there is no guarantee that the path forward will not diverge back; it is, however, a start.

the smooth, varnished wood of the bar is a dividing line. diluc allows it to reclaim territory as he leans back. he does not yet retrieve his cloth. ]

I have no desire to punish you. [ diluc, how has never lied to kaeya, not really, says thus. ] You came back. Did you find what you were searching for?

...

[ he considers, because of course he does. Diluc knows the truth, is the one person who can puncture the veil of loneliness that surrounds him.

but he found something out, and he no longer has that same desire to use it to drive a wedge between himself and Diluc, there's no longer a point to that. Because Diluc will never be able to give him the release he wants.

And he sighs, looking down at the bar. ]

You should think carefully on if you actually want an honest answer to that question.

[ kaeya sighs. that kaeya will never know exactly what that sound does to diluc is a grim blessing. does winter sigh? does the peak of a mountain? what sound would it make; how should those who have watched it all their lives make of it?

diluc, who has spent years thinking, looks at him. of course he does. ]

It's why I am asking. [ is what diluc says. he had once asked without knowing the answer to that question. winter had come early that autumn. perhaps winter has never truly left. ] Though I know better than to expect honesty. I ask for it; what you choose to do is up to you.

What did you see there, Kaeya?

... I met someone else from Khaenri'ah.

[ he can't fathom why Diluc wants to know, the knowledge he has now will only hurt him. as everything about him has come to be. And truthfully, he doesn't know why he isn't lying. Isn't easily brushing it off.

but at some point... if Diluc asks, he knows he'll answer. even when he knows that it would be better to feign ignorance. What they had could never be mended. ]

He filled in some gaps for me.

[ another pause. ]

And yet, I still wish I'd had more time.

[ before it became suspicious. After all, he was there on official business. Otherwise, in Mondstadt he would remain.

So, he offers a version of the truth, sanitized, but enough of a trail that were Diluc to dig deeper, he could have it. And he knows that he will, even if he wishes he wouldn't. ]

... I'd like a stronger drink, if you will.

[ someone from khaenri'ah.

the existence of kaeya permits the existence of other khaenri'ans. through diluc's journey across teyvat like a burning brand, he had met no other - but have heard of whispers. he's always heard of whispers. of course it would be kaeya who would find irrefutable proof. for a moment, something cold cards through diluc. it is the same cold that had carded through him that wintery autumn day, when kaeya had smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes. khaenri'ans were kaeya's people.

the confluence of two timelines merging, of that autumn and the autumn of today: i could lose him again.

today, diluc reaches for a particular vintage of white wine. seven years out of the cask; it is a smooth, pale moon of a wine that pools in his metal shaker. next is a dandelion wine. the bar is the scent of a mondstadt spring as he pours it in next. the ice clinks, and settles, at the bottom of a glass. diluc shakes, then pours. the glass is passed to kaeya without another word. death, as it stands, after noon. ]

He could not answer all of your questions. [ because it's kaeya - if answers existed, he would have pried them out of a bleeding mouth with the thin prick of a sword. but - this is also kaeya, who had pointed a blade at diluc only because diluc had done so first. he muses, suddenly: ] Or because you did not want to know.

Hm? No, not quite.

[ he looks at the glass, his hand reaching for it, and not quite taking it. and then he glances at him, taking stock of what his emotions might be. why he might care about this conversation, how honest to be.

diluc had been furious with him once, though in large part due to his own pushing. but their relationship had been rended. irreparably damaged. could he ever truly be free of his past? he wasn't sure. he wanted to hope, but either way... ]

I was there on official business. I simply didn't have time to speak for longer.

[ and he takes the drink in hand and takes a sip. ]

Tastes amazing. Thank you.

[ the quirk of a brow. he pulls another glass from the rack, and lets his terrycloth run over its rim.

'i simply didn't have time to speak for longer', says kaeya, but since when has kaeya been so simple?

since when has diluc? ]

... imagine you following business protocols. [ is what diluc lands on after a moment. ] Did it snow in Sumeru?

Haaah.

The conversation was also far too serious.

[ he says with twist in his smile. Can he admit what his surname means? Would Diluc's fury ignite again, and this precious moment be ruined? another, longer sip.

His stomach twists at the thought. And so, he hopes, Diluc won't ask. ]

Speaking with a spice merchant, personally, sounded far more interesting.

Was it a spice merchant from Khaenri'ah?

[ the glass in diluc's hand clinks. ] You are stalling.

Maybe I am.

Very well.

[ he downs the rest of the drink, and then sets the glass down with a clink. ]

What if I told you that the Alberichs founded the Abyss Order?

[ the silence resounds. diluc looks. ]

And if I were to ask you for the source of your information? The Khaenri'an from Sumeru, perhaps?

Yes.

[ the smile he wears is fragile. ]

[ like ice on permafrost. but you forget - there is water beneath. there always has been. diluc looks. of course he does. ]

Trustworthy?

He has no reason to lie.

Are you hoping he is? Because the Traveler seems to trust him.

[ Kaeya recognized his eyes. There was no second guessing. He hadn't even asked for the information. ]

Your standard for trust goes beyond that. [ but diluc's head dips - a graceful concession. in this, he trusts kaeya. it takes a liar to know one. ] And?

wait now; soon you, too, will have peace // canon-compliant

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