Archive of Our Own ^beta

The teapot’s inside was nowhere near small, but somehow the Wanderer, or so he was previously called, Scaramouche, felt claustrophobic. He felt like he’d been in there for months when in reality it had only been two days. The first day made his stomach drop to the floor.

The Traveler had invited him and another guest into the teapot and proceeded to trap them in there until the Wanderer “sorted things out.”

A familiar Fatui member had made home to the Traveler’s teapot as well. The Wanderer felt quite sick upon spotting the taller man.

He looked the same as ever, his pale face accompanied by rosy cheeks and tanned freckles running along each cheek, up to his temple, and back down, scattering faintly across his jaw. His stature towered over the Wanderer and his bright disposition contrasted with the not-so-hidden bloodlust running through his veins. Ginger hair fluffed out over the top of his head, known to stick out like a sore thumb among crowds.

The sight of his old coworker made the Wanderer feel sick. His former colleague had noticed his “new” face and tried to introduce himself, but he ran away. He found a dingy corner and ended up throwing up from the sheer whiplash the meeting brought.

The next morning came and the Wanderer had sat at the long breakfast table alone. His wooden spoon digging into the rice porridge he had made for himself within the teapot’s kitchen. The soft porridge spilling down his throat easily as he sat uncomfortably on his chair, praying to any god who’d listen in hopes Childe wouldn’t show up.

Apparently, his blasphemous acts in Sumeru gave the gods a certain aversion to his prayers.

Childe’s head poked into the room, tufts of hair bouncing as he walked. He pulled up a chair to the overly long table, sitting himself directly across from the Wanderer. A smile plastered on his face. He stuck out a gloved hand and greeted, “Hello, stranger!”

Stranger.

The Wanderer stood up immediately, moving to abandon his warm porridge and the situation as quickly as possible. However, a hand gripped at his wrist faster than he could leave. Of course, Childe was as bold as ever.

“Hey, don’t be like that! It seems the Traveler has trapped us both in here for whatever reason,” Childe spoke, gripping dangerously on the Wanderer’s wrist. If he were human, it might have bruised with the sheer strength put into forcing him to stay put. Childe’s face bore a grin as he said, “Sit down, we’re stuck together. We may as well get to introductions.”

He knew it was his own fault, but the fact Childe hadn’t remembered him, made the hole where the Wanderer’s heart would have been sting. He felt agony piercing his body from multiple directions. Stabbing him hard in the chest.

Despite himself, he sat down, yanking his arm from Childe’s iron grip.

“That’s more like it,” Childe praised. He cupped his own face in his hands, elbows placing themselves onto the wooden table. “I’m Tartaglia.”

The Wanderer couldn’t stop himself before hissing, “I know who you are.”

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?”

“Of course, hasn’t everyone heard of the illustrious Fatui Harbingers?” asked the Wanderer. He managed to quickly save himself, quick on his feet as always. His words were laced with a certain venom that even he hadn’t meant, it wasn’t his fault sarcasm practically dripped from his nonexistent pores.

“I suppose so,” Childe said thoughtfully. His gaze made the Wanderer shudder. The friendly smile never left his face and the Wanderer felt like he was going to puke again when Childe kindly asked, “What’s your name, comrade?”

He paled. The Wanderer’s throat began to constrict, choking the breath out of his lungs. His heart would have given out if he had one. Unable to project his dying voice any more, the Wanderer simply mumbled, “That’s none of your business.”

“Well, without your name, how will I get to know you?”

“There’s more to people than just a name, you of all people should know that.”

The Fatui member’s eyebrow raised a bit at that remark. The Wanderer had slipped up again.

“I’m sure the Fatui wouldn’t be so careless as to not dish you out codenames,” The Wanderer jeered, saving himself yet again. He should mind his tongue, he was quite poor at that.

“I see…” the ginger replied, eyeing the Inazuman suspiciously. Then he asked, “Then I suppose I have another way. I’ve never got to do this!”

An excited look spread across the man’s freckled face. The expression truly terrified the Wanderer. It was so full of… life… It was frightening.

“Shall we play a game, comrade?” the Snezhnayan’s grin spread to the corners of his face mischievously. He looked so happy. A look the Wanderer hadn’t seen on the eleventh in so long. It made him ache.

“What game?”

“Just some questions. It’s this social experiment,” Childe explained.

The Wanderer’s eyes widened in shock before he recovered himself. He knew exactly what Childe was referring to. It was a game they had played years and years ago. Thirty-six questions.

“It’s called thirty-six questions, it’s from Fontaine. There’s three sets of questions, yeah? You and your partner have just met, you two go back and forth asking and answering the question. By the end, you should feel like you’ve known each other for years.”

We have already known each other for years, the Wanderer thought, but he couldn’t say it aloud. Speaking the truth into existence would only cause more problems. He knew all of Childe’s answers, he knew them by heart. When they first played, they had already known each other for quite awhile, but weren’t at all close. They managed to record the session to Childe’s request and the Wanderer had held onto that recording for the rest of his days, listening to it whenever he wanted to hear the Sneznhnayan’s voice.

He noted that Childe specifically left out how the title of the experiment was really “36 Questions That Lead to Love.” Just as he had the first time they played years ago.

“Sure, it can’t be too soul crushing,” the Wanderer replied, desperately trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Great! This will be fun,” Childe cheered. He clapped his hands together cheerfully, his smile could blind a man. He pulled out a little recorder, showing it to the Wanderer, “I’ll record it, so we can remember this moment forever.”

He clicked the recorder on, his piercing blue eyes met the Wanderer’s cold purple ones. The Wanderer shivered.

“I’ll ask first. Question one, if you could have anyone in the world as a dinner guest, who would it be?” Childe asked. His curious gaze made the Wanderer want to shrink into his chair. He immediately regretted saying yes with all the memories flooding back.

He wished he could lie, but part of him forced himself to answer truthfully, “I’d have dinner with my mother.”

“Oh, are you a mama’s boy?” Childe teased, a giggle worming its way from his lips.

“No. I hate my mother.’

Silence.

“Oh, well,” Childe said, a hand running against the back of his neck. He recovered quickly and the Wanderer already knew the answer before it left his lips, “I’d have dinner with the Tsaritsa.”

“Aren’t you a loyal servant to your archon,” the Inazuman drawled. He just heard a huff come from the ginger before he was quickly urged to ask the next question. Childe hadn’t even bothered to ask if he knew the game. He just so happened to have everything memorized from years ago. He carefully inquired, “Would you like to be famous? In what way?”

“I suppose I’m already quite famous,” Childe hummed, “I’d rather be rich though, not famous. To support my family easily.”

“Well the question said in what way, like an artist or a singer?”

“Hmm… I’d love to be a famous artist,” the Snezhnayan joked. He had done the same exact joke so many years ago and his laugh made the Wanderer’s chest flutter fitfully.

“I’d hate to be famous. I don’t want anyone remembering me anyway,” the Wanderer said. He had thought the same during their first time as well, but now the wish was so real and felt so heavy on his soul as he faced the physical embodiment of his wish’s consequence.

“When making a phone call do you rehearse what you’re going to say? If so, why?”

A slight pause rung out, before Childe annoyingly repeated the question, rushing the Wanderer for an answer.

“Give me a second, gods, I was thinking,” the Wandered spat. He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation and answered, “No, I don’t.”

“Me neither!” the ginger replied cheerily, “Next one!”

“You’re already insufferable. What would a perfect day be for you?”

This was one of the Wanderer’s favorite answers to listen back on. He always wished that Childe would have his perfect day, every single day.

“A perfect day always has fishing!”

The answer also made the Wanderer cringe a bit each time he heard it, this time was no exception.

“I’d spend the day ice fishing, I’d just go out into the wilderness, build myself a little igloo, and ice fish for hours and hours,” Childe explained. His eyes glowed with a sense of nostalgia and he wistfully sighed, “I’d catch a ton of salmon, it’s my favorite, and I’d watch the sunset. Just looking at all the colors is so nice. I’d just stare at the sky and sleep and fish all day long.”

“That’s oddly nice,” the Wanderer mumbled. He guessed he should comment at least a little on the answers he was given. It made everything feel a bit more authentic and kept him from forgetting to ward off tears that threatened to start forming in his lilac eyes.

His perfect day wasn’t as picturesque.

“I’d stay home and drink tea, with no one to bother me, just curl up and drink tea with no stress from work or people or anything.”

“That’s nice too,” Childe said, the expression on his face was already beginning to be one of adoration and it made the Wanderer’s face burn slightly. Childe didn’t notice before he asked, “What was the last time you sung to yourself and to someone else?”

“I don’t sing to myself,” the Wanderer deadpanned.

“Boo, you’re boring,” Childe mocked, he stuck out his tongue at the Inazuman childishly, “What about to someone else?”

The last time the Wanderer sung to someone was with Childe and that was a long time ago.

“It was… I don’t remember…” his teeth grit together when he answered. It was a lie, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the truth. It would reveal too much. He wasn’t ready yet.

“I’m sure you have a beautiful voice,” the taller man mumbled, a pink rising to his cheeks. He coughed, covering his face in an attempt to hide it and replied, “I sang to myself while showering today! Might as well have fun while stuck here. The last time I sung to someone it was uhhhhh… My sister Tonia! Probably a few weeks ago when I last saw her.”

Last time it had been Teucer, when they played for the first time, he sang to him just four days ago. The Wanderer supposed some answers had to have changed. Simply because time had passed…

“If you were ninety, would you rather have the mind or body of a thirty year old?” the Inazuman asked. He knew the answer, it was so obvious, he wouldn’t have needed to even play the game with Childe for the first time to know.

“The body, obviously!” Childe grinned. He laughed and said, “The better to fight with! And you?”

“The mind.”

“Wouldn’t you look all old and be worn down all the time?”

“I don’t age,” the Wanderer replied. Even the first time, Childe hadn’t known this little fact. “This question doesn’t really apply to me.”

“Really?” The ginger’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Are you some sort of god?”

“You could say that… Next question.”

“Okay, okay!” Childe obviously wanted to ask more about the Wanderer’s vague divinity, but he knew not to push it. He brushed a tuft of hair out of his face and asked, “Do you have a secret hunch about how you’re going to die?”

The question made the Wanderer freeze up. He knew how he was going to die. Childe was going to kill him, just like he promised all those years ago. Childe promised to kill him one night when they shared a tent, they shared the stories of their names and the Wanderer said he’d become a god. Childe said he wanted to be the one to kill him so the Wanderer had to always remember him, but of course, Childe didn’t know of this anymore.

“You alright? What, did you have some sort of premonition? Do you know how you’ll die?” Childe pestered, question after question, but the Wanderer sat there, turning a sickly pale.

“Well,” the Wanderer spoke, trying to keep his voice level, “A long time ago, someone… Dear to me, so to speak, promised they would kill me.”

“Oh?” Clearly the answer had piqued the Fatui’s interest, but the ex member did not want to share more. The memories of that night, they made his eyes water slightly and he desperately willed away the tears. He had always cried, continuous tears he couldn’t stop, but now wasn’t the time.

Childe must have noticed because instead of asking more, he quickly gave his own answer, “I think I’m going to die in the midst of battle. It’s my greatest wish.”

Oh Childe, empathetic as ever. And stupid. The Wanderer knew the man’s only want was to be killed by an opponent greater than him. He’d even take death as the hands of the divine Tsaritsa to achieve this.

“You’re awfully bloodthirsty,” the Inazuman remarked, absentmindedly. He already knew all about the ginger’s unstoppable lust for battle and bloodshed. He tucked his indigo hair behind his ear, and proceeded with the long list of questions he had memorized to this day, “Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common. We’ll alternate.”

This task was going to be much harder now that Childe had no memories of when the Wanderer had been Scaramouche. Before, Childe’s first answer had simply been that they were both in the Fatui. That one was obvious, but now the easiest answers they had were now being removed right from under them and now they had to actually think, really ponder the person they were seated with.

“Hmmmmmm…” the noise Childe made was purposely long and drawn out as he hummed with “thought.” The Wanderer still wasn’t sure how well at that task Childe was, surely he wasn’t a complete idiot, but he wasn’t really… The brightest, one might say.

“Ah! We both dress nice!” answered the Fatui member, his eyes glimmered with a childlike excitement that made the Wanderer feel ill once again.

“Your outfit is debatable, but I’ll give you that one,” the Wanderer purred. He noticed the pink rising up Childe’s cheeks in response and had to keep himself from laughing. The game was going too fast, only eight questions in and they were already starting to fall into the abyss once again.

“We both dislike the Fatui,” the Inazuman drawled. He liked watching Childe bristle at the answer, as if he was spraying him with water. It made the raven haired man smirk.

“I don’t… dislike them,” Childe mumbled, but he didn’t fight the accusation further than that. No one in their right mind would like the Fatui. They were employees, sure, but most employees don’t like their job or their coworkers or their boss. Childe just so happened to worship their boss, but that didn’t mean he liked his other coworkers very much and the Wanderer knew this.

“I’m sure you dislike your coworkers, they are, quite literally, the Fatui.”

Childe didn’t respond to that, he just moved onto the next observation, “We both seem to enjoy breakfast, I was going to make some, but then I happened to catch you.”

The Wanderer had almost forgotten about his rice porridge since the Snezhnayan’s arrival. It was bound to be cold by now, but it was fine. He took his spoon, fishing with it in the white lake of his porridge, and replied, “I suppose.”

He pointed his wooden spoon towards the ginger and said, “We seem to both be enjoying this little game of yours.”

He gave that exact same answer the first time they played. Neither of the times really held truth to them, but he had chosen to be sentimental. He wasn’t normally so kind and would usually spill over with disgust if playing with anyone else, but Childe was different. He was so annoying that he had begun to accept it and both times he was just… too tired to fight against the game.

The next answer came out as a mumble, but the Wanderer could just make it out in the silence of the room, “We both have pretty eyes.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. That answer was notably different than the first time they had played. Childe hadn’t taken to actively flirting with him until further into the game. It was… odd. How much had Childe been staring at his eyes to even notice that? The first time they played, Childe just said they were both sick of the mission they were on, but something about his new answer was so tender that the Wanderer’s fight or flight response had begun to kick in. He could barely muster a response, the heat in his own cheeks rising violently, but managed to let out a small, “Thank you, I quite agree.”

He took a bite of his, now cold, porridge and thoughtfully said, “Neither of us seem to know why the Traveler locked us in here.”

He could hear the taller man’s breath hitch a bit, he seemed nervous. Did he know why they were there? What the Traveler had meant by “sorting things out?” He almost didn’t want to know the answer because whatever it was would disappoint him.

“Um, question nine!” Childe said quickly. His voice was more uneasy now, it made the Wanderer suspicious.

“What do you feel most grateful for in your life?”

The Wanderer knew his answer. It was Childe, but he couldn’t say that. He let his lie slip past his lips cautiously, “I’m grateful for the Dendro archon’s… kindness.”

He knew the answer fascinated Childe. All signs of nervousness had melted away into pure curiosity. His shifting eyes turned directly at the Wanderer, wide and full of all the possibilities that the answer could have meant, but he did not ask a single question. He only replied with his own answer, “I’m grateful for my family.”

“Speaking of family,” the shorter mused, “If you could change one thing about how you were raised, what would it be?”

“Oh… well, I guess I’d like a bit more… attention.”

The words that clung to the air like melting wax were chosen ever so carefully, not wanting to reveal too much. The Wanderer thought it was quite ironic in a game about closeness. Despite this, he knew exactly what Childe had meant. In his original answer, Childe had gone into picturesque detail about how he had fallen into the abyss at the ripe age of fourteen. He didn’t really want attention, he just wished that someone was able to watch him and prevent his fall down below…

Apparently, the thought kept the Inazuman quiet for some time because Childe’s voice had broken into his thoughts. It woke him from his trip to space.

“Well, my answer’s simple, I wish my mother hadn’t abandoned me,” the Wanderer responded. He wasn’t even sure if Childe had prompted him into the answer, but he just continued along, “She just threw me away.”

“That’s… I’m sorry.”

Those words were the only ones that were even able to leave Childe’s mouth. He was so empathetic, it made the Wanderer want to hurl again. Maybe if he had those same levels of empathy, people would like him a bit more, but he didn’t. He felt nothing for others, only for the occasional exception, but those were rare. Childe was one of the rare people who actually got this luxury out of hundreds of people and he could no longer cherish it.

“I’m sorry to ask, but the next question is to tell your partner your life story. Just four minutes, but with as much detail as possible,” Childe said. The slight guilt all over his face was so strong, it just bordered on pity.

“I’ve been alive for over five hundred years, I wouldn't be able to tell you my life story even if we had days,” the Wanderer sighed. “Besides I don’t want to tell you all about my mother.”

“What about the last few years then?”

“I feel like that answer would only lead to more questions, I’ll just summarize,” the Wanderer whispered. He placed his head in his hands, eyes closing to reminisce. “Let’s begin…

Five hundred years ago I was created by the goddess who hails over Inazuma, I was to take her place ruling the nation, but I was too weak. I was merely a broken puppet. She tossed me out and I wont bother getting into everything with my time in the Tatarasuna. My friend, the ancestor of the Kaedehara clan, had died and so did this little boy who I had met. These were the second and third betrayals I had faced. The boy tried to convince me I had a heart, but I eventually learned that was, quite literally, untrue.”

He paused for a moment. The Fatui was quite a large part of his life’s story, but he needed a way to explain it without revealing the specifics.

“Let’s just say, I had joined a… Prestigious organization. I was thoroughly experimented on and yet somehow, I found somehow there I took a liking to. Details of him would be, ah, painful to explain, so I’ll skip over that for now.”

He studied Childe’s expression. Despite giving absolutely no real details, the man looked entranced, desperate to learn more. Hunger for information swam in his eyes and nearly spilled over.

“I met a… Vagabond, of sorts, this wasn’t the first time, but it’s the most notable, I suppose. We were in Inazuma and I had filled a factory full of gas. I could have killed them, but a kitsune had come with a sort of bargaining chip. So, I let them live and eventually made my way to Sumeru. I was experimented on more and I was on my way to the heavens, you could say. The plan ended in failure, but I had gotten to meet the Dendro archon during my journey. She’s quite kind.”

The last part was coming up, he tried speaking slowly to avoid getting too far, but there was just so much he had to skim over that he found the answer he had been avoiding rushing up upon him. He was silent for a good few seconds, trying to kill an extra few moments before speaking once again, “I’m not sure how much you know, but in Sumeru there’s this phenomenon, Irminsul…

It’s connected to the ley lines and holds all the information in Teyvat. It’s quite intimidating, but if you remove information from Irminsul, it’ll be erased, from all of Teyvat, forever. No one will keep it’s memory and so… I won’t say why, but my existence was erased and now no one remembers anything about me from the last five hundred years, and that’s the end.”

“Does that mean I may have known you?” Childe asked breathlessly, his mouth was slightly agape. Perhaps, the revelation of the Wanderer’s existence being erased wasn’t the smartest idea, but he hadn’t known how else to wrap up the story.

The Wanderer stayed quiet.

“I don’t like the idea that someone could just… Be completely erased,” the Snezhnayan mumbled. He was staring at his own hands, his gaze was so harsh, as if he was scared that if he blinked… His own existence would vanish, just in a simple poof. His eyes warily turned up to look at the Wanderer and asked, “Do you regret it?”

“No.”

Yes.

Childe just nodded, the Wanderer being left unsure if the other saw through the lie. He didn’t know what ideas were sprouting up in the ginger’s head, growing into massive fields of pure imagination, wondering what could have been. If Childe asked any more, the Wanderer would have to muster up everything in his cowardly spirit to lie.

“I’ll start with my own story, it’s not as interesting I guess,” Childe laughed. “I was born in Morepesok, which is where my family lives. It’s a little seaside village in Snezhnaya. My real name is something different. I tell people my father named me after some hero’s tale, but really… I chose it on my own.”

The Wanderer knew this story, it was a tale he heard long ago in a tent, during the Snezhnayan winter. He and Childe had laid together under a mountain of blankets, keeping out the cold. They were much closer then…

“Really, I met a traveler, I don’t remember what they looked like. They told me this grand tale about a hero from another world, his name was one I’ve never heard before, he even had a little brother named Teucer, just like me! I never saw them again, but the next day, I… Well, I ran away from home, I was bored, everything was just the same old thing everyday, so I went off and I left, but I was chased by wolves and bears and eventually… Oh archons, I’ve never told anyone this story.”

The Wanderer cringed at the sentence, hopefully Childe didn’t take notice. He had heard the story before, he knew exactly what happened next…

“I fell. Not a normal fall, I fell into the abyss. I know that sounds crazy, but I swear it’s true! I was there for three months, but when I found my way out, I was told I had only disappeared for three days. I think time passes differently there, which is inconvenient when you’re a missing person. I met a swordswoman there, she taught me everything I know and helped me survive in that place. Once I came back up, I guess my family could tell I was different.

According to my father, I caused trouble all throughout our little town, so he handed me off to the Fatui, maybe to whip me into shape, but I beat every soldier there. This caught the eye of my dear Pulcinella, under the guise of punishment, I worked up the ranks to become the eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. I was only eighteen by the time I became a harbinger…

In my time, I perhaps almost destroyed Liyue, but besides that. I got to travel so much, I’ve even gone all the way to Inazuma! That’s where you’re from, correct?”

The Wanderer gave a stiff nod, the fact he wasn’t even so much as mentioned was really cementing the fact he had truly been forgotten. It made his stomach fold in on itself.

“That’s the end of all that!” Childe said cheerily, he placed his hand on the table and the Wanderer quietly resisted the urge to reach out and grab it in his own, feeling the warmth of his old lover’s hand once again. Childe’s fingers excitedly tapped against the table, stimulating his own senses, and said, “Next question!”

“Oh, ahem,” the Wanderer awkwardly cleared his throat and set down his own hands that had been propping up his head. As inconspicuous as possible, he placed them quite close to the harbinger’s hand, in hopes the other would discreetly inch his own hand atop the Wanderer’s. The thought made heat rise up his face as he asked, “If you could wake up tomorrow and gain any quality, what would it be?”

The brightest on Childe’s face made the Wanderer’s “heart” stir.

Childe’s hands clapped against the table’s face excitedly, as if he was just waiting for this question throughout the whole game. Once the excited tapping had stopped, the Wanderer noticed his hands had in fact, inched closer to his own.

“That’s easy!” Childe jested, a smile bearing across his face. He answered, “I’d have mastered archery!”

The Wanderer knew he was quite awful with the weapon, just throwing an arrow would have Childe impact more damage than simply firing one out.

He let out a small laugh and said, “Wow, and I thought you’d want to be better with chopsticks.”

“How do you know I’m bad with them?”

Another slip up, but this was easy to cover.

“What? Does the little Snezhnayan boy eat borscht with chopsticks? You just look like you’d suck.”

“Rude.”

Despite the scolding, Childe’s eyes glinted with entertainment and he simply urged his partner to answer the question himself.

“Perhaps be able to show genuine kindness,” the Wanderer said contemplatively. He smiled while speaking, “Aha, I haven’t been able to do that in quite awhile.”

“How long is awhile?”

“However long since my memories have been erased from this world,” the Inazuman hummed.

Childe studied the Wanderer carefully. Every bit of information that was extracted from the Wanderer only led to more questions. He was so fascinating. The pure, unadulterated interest Childe had in the Wanderer made the Inazuman’s skin crawl, bringing his mind back to his days with Dottore and the disgusting levels of intrigue he aroused in the doctor.

“That’s the last of the first set,” the hydro user breathed. It didn’t take even a moment before his atrociously blue eyes met the Wanderer’s own pair of lilac. The Wanderer had always hated eye contact whereas Childe would make… just a bit too much. Regardless of the Snezhnayan’s staring, he said, his voice just above a whisper, “Let’s keep going.”

“Yes, let’s”

The eye contact was suddenly broken by Childe jerking his head away. A deep blush could be seen, spread across his cheeks. This elicited a small laugh from the ex Fatui member.

Childe quickly took to rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, the one not next to the Wanderer’s own, and nervously chuckled out his question, “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything in your life or your future, what would you care to know?”

This question always threw the Wanderer into a giggling fit. Though he didn’t look the type, he laughed quite often. Usually at the expense of others, but still. It was one of the few joys he had in life. When you’re over five hundred years old, eventually, everything becomes just a little bit funny.

Childe peeked out at the raven haired man who just kept laughing. He just couldn’t find it in him to compose himself. Childe found the third minute of the show to be a bit much and finally asked, “What’s so funny?”

“I know this hag of an astrologer,” the Wanderer giggled. He covered his hand, the one not next to Childe’s own, and tried to calm himself. Once he could talk mostly normally, he barked out a laugh, “She despises me, but now she doesn’t remember anything about me. I could ask her whatever I wanted if the price was high enough.”

Once the laughing fit came to an end, the anemo user was able to think for a moment, and said, “However, if she looked at my constellation, I’m sure she’d figure out some things she wouldn’t want to know.”

Chewing on his cheek in thought, he finally answered, “At this point, I’d just ask about someone I know. Well, how things go between us, I guess.”

“Do you know her name? I’d love to get my fortune told!” Childe beamed excitedly.

“God, it’s not as simple as fortune telling,” the Inazuman scoffed. Though, he immediately found himself cringing as his manner reminded himself of that certain astrologer. The moment brought his face into a sneer as he jabbed, “Of course you’d be into something like that.”

“I’m not really into it,” the ginger explained, “I don’t even know if I believe it, it just sounds fun.”

“Well, Mona is legitimate, surprisingly,” the Wanderer couldn’t help, but add the little jibe at her. “I haven’t seen her in maybe a year or so? I wonder if she’d even be able to see my constellation properly. Moving on, next question.”

He placed his head into one of his hands, smiling mischievously. The thought of Mona put him into quite a good mood. Her whole existence was amusing to him. He gave Childe a little look and purred, “Is there anything you’ve dreamed of doing for forever and why haven’t you done it?”

“Well, I wish I could go out with someone.”

The answer brought the anemo wielder back to reality. Childe was so obviously flirting again, but it stung a little more because he had given the same answer the first time they played… And he didn’t remember that he and the Wanderer had gone out, quite a few times in the duration of their relationship.

The Wanderer wasn’t sure if he should blush or cry at the thought.

Instead of either, he awkwardly asked, “And why haven’t you?”

“I don’t really have time with the Fatui, plus normal people don’t really want to date, uh, how should I put this?” the hydro user’s face screwed up in thought before he landed on the answer, “A war criminal?”

“So you admit that the Fatui commits war crimes?” the Wanderer raised his eyebrow, but he knew the answer. He committed quite a few of them after all. Maybe more than a few really…

“Hey, it’s not… That bad,” Childe huffed, but his resolve immediately faltered. “Okay maybe it is that bad.”

“Fun,” the Wanderer drawled.

“Wait! You didn’t even hear my answer to the crystal ball one!” Childe protested, neither of them noticed after the Wanderer’s extended fit of giggling.

“Oh.”

“Well, my answer is that I want to make sure my family is okay in the future and that I can protect them.”

“You’re so noble,” the Wanderer sneered sarcastically. Childe must not have noticed the sarcasm since he simply thanked the Inazuman with a wide smile, causing the shorter’s face to heat up.

“Well, anyways, uh,” the Inazuman stuttered, the smile caught him quite off guard. His response was meant to be mean, but it was met with nothing but pure adoration. It made him feel… Fuzzy? Was that the right term? He didn’t know nor care to find out at the given moment. He coughed out, “I’ve had some people I wanted to meet. I haven’t gotten the chance to speak with them all though, just busy I suppose.”

“What are you so busy with?”

“That’s not the question.”

“Fine, fine,” Childe groaned. He waved his hand and just said, “Next question! What’s your greatest accomplishment?”

“Are you serious?” the Wanderer looked at the ginger plainly. He was five hundred years old, he quite literally achieved godhood and so that was his answer.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” the hydro user asked, his eyes glittered with interest.

“You don’t. You just have to trust me.”

Trust him. Why did the Wanderer’s own words cut himself like a knife? Just the idea of Childe ever trusting him again felt painful. Suddenly, he felt a bit faint, as if he would just fall out of his chair and hit the ground, unable to ever awake again, but Childe’s voice just kept bringing him back to the reality that his own mind kept pulling him away from.

“I’ll trust you.”

There was silence for a moment.

Then, a whisper.

“Why?”

“The fact that you even asked makes me feel like I can.”

Then Childe smiled, a warm and understanding smile. It reminded the Wanderer of a book he had once indulged himself in. Something about a warm understanding smile that you only see a few times in life. Rare and with eternal reassurance, the book’s words swam in the puppet’s head. It was breathtaking. Quite literally since the Wanderer began to cough, choking on his own spit in a flustered moment.

“Are you alright?” Childe asked, his eyes blown out with concern.

“Yes, augh, I’m fine,” the Wander spluttered between shaking breaths. His face had become akin to a strawberry, humiliatingly enough.

“Don’t die on me, we’re not even half way.”

That comment only made the Wanderer’s face heat up even more. He really wasn’t sure if he was reddened or not, he never bothered to figure out if he could really blush or if he had just felt it, but it was still quite embarrassing.

There was an odd sort of kindness in the small tease sent his way. He had forgotten the way Childe’s words affected him. It had been so long. He feared if he spent more time with him, actually rebuilt everything they had, it might kill him. Or maybe he hoped it would. The idea was frightening, yet so enticing, he could practically taste the possibility on his tongue.

“If you're done choking to death, I think my greatest accomplishment was escaping the abyss,” the ginger stated. His eyes had glazed over with a certain coldness whenever he talked about that bit of past, it had hardened him in so many ways. It showed in each scar riddling his freckled body and in each drop of blood from his wounds. They couldn’t be seen now, but the Wanderer knew they’d always be there, returning whenever the last of them had healed.

It was time for the next question.

Barely above a whisper, practically inaudible, the Wanderer asked, “What do you value most in a relationship?”

It wasn’t the right question.

The original had said friendship, Childe had to have noticed, but if he did, it went unsaid. His warm smile just adorned his face once again, draining the Wanderer of life each time he looked.

“It’s not trust or honesty,” Childe murmured wistfully. The look on his face was of pure affection and it stared right at the Wanderer, it made him feel ill. He just continued to whisper, the conversation had become so quiet, so intimate, though no one else was physically in the teapot, it felt as if there was no one else in the entire world. Childe just whispered, “I think, I just need someone to be there. I don’t really care if they lie, I can’t complain. Trust is a two way street after all. No one in their right mind would trust a Fatui member, except for maybe another, but even then… It’s be quite stupid.”

The Wanderer must have been the dumbest person alive.

“You?”

The anemo user was silent for a beat, but he managed to let out a mumble, “The same as you. Someone there would be nice, I just need someone to listen.”

“I’m listening.”

He just looked at Childe. He didn’t really know what to say so he just smiled. It felt a bit unnatural on his face if he was being honest, and the Wanderer was being quite honest today.

Light had started to leak in through the windows and it made Childe’s ginger tufts of hair look almost good. He really was quite beautiful. Even the Wanderer could admit that.

Childe must have noticed how silent they were for the past few minutes and tore his eyes away, stuttering, “Ah, so, what’s your most treasured memory?”

What was a good lie that wouldn’t reveal everything the Wanderer wasn’t ready to say yet? He couldn’t just say his most treasured memory was his first kiss with Childe. Or the time in the tent. Or when he had asked Childe out. Or when Childe said yes…

“My most treasured memory?” the Wanderer pondered thoughtfully. He bit his lip and began to chew the inside of his cheek. After a pause, he answered, “I don’t know if I have one that I can share.”

“Why can’t you share it?”

“It’s just a bit… involved.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I can’t explain it.”

“Oh, that’s stupid.”

The Wanderer let out a chuckle and just shook his head, asking, “What about you then?”

“Okay, so, maybe this isn’t the most treasured, but when I was four I went fishing for the first time with my dad, we don’t have the, ah, best relationship, but it was the first time I got to really fish.”

God, Childe and fucking his fish.

“I caught the biggest fish ever. It was amazing, I caught this taimen right, do you know what that is? It’s this giant grey fish, they’re pretty huge for river fish. Imagine a gigantic salmon. You catch them by fly fishing, where you use a lightweight lure and a fly rod. It’s fun, but my favorite is ice fishing. But basically it’s meant to trick the fish into thinking there’s a little snack for them on top of the water.”

Childe’s special interest was fishing. He loved it since he was a kid. He often took the Inazuman to go fish with him whenever they had a mission together. He always kept a fishing rod wherever he stayed, the fishing association loved him. He had visited it in every region he went to.

“Anyways, since I was so little, when I hooked the taimen it almost pulled me into the water, but my dad helped me reel it in! It was even bigger than me. We cooked it up and ate it when we got home. That moment is what really made me love fishing, I think I’d be different if it never happened.”

Though he was never as interested in fishing as Childe, the Wanderer always loved hearing this story. He loved hearing Childe get so excited and infodump about some fish he caught. If the anemo user ever had a question about some fish he found, Childe was sure to know what it was and how to catch it.

The puppet didn’t have to eat, but he enjoyed the flavor of many foods. The meals served at the Fatui headquarters weren’t always the best, often being some sort of stewed vegetable. However, whenever Childe caught some poor fish, the two were sure to enjoy a nice meal.

“You should tell me more of your fishing stories someday,” the Wanderer mumbled.

The Snezhnayan’s face lit up and he nodded vigorously. The table shook a little with the excited taps of shoes coming from under the table. No one ever wanted to listen to some guy talk about fishing for hours, but the Wanderer always liked listening. He let Childe indulge in this one pleasure without complaint, it was only fair, if the Wanderer was to discuss tea for hours at a time, the discussion of fishing couldn’t hurt.

“Sorry to ruin the moment, but the next question is what’s your worst memory?”

“Oh, probably falling into the abyss, but that was probably easy to guess,” the ginger laughed awkwardly. He gave a tight smile, clearly not wanting to talk about the subject again.

“Mine was a long time ago,” the shorter of the two sighed. He angled his gaze downward, staring at his long cold bowl of porridge. Maybe if he stared enough, he could get lost in the milky white color in front of him.

“I had this friend, he was a young boy, he ended up passing away so young. Those were the years where I had already been wracked with grief, so I just sat in the house. There had been a fire, I just let it light up around me, but I wouldn’t burn. It wouldn’t let me die. I guess I should be grateful, I’m here after all.”

Once he was finished, the Wanderer was surprised to notice his hand had ended up in Childe’s just across the table. The larger hand squeezing his reassuringly. It felt so alive next to his cold skin. Sometimes he had forgotten the warmth humans held just in their fingertips…

“Are you alright now?”

The words came out with such a genuine tenderness it made the Wanderer’s entire body ache.

“That wasn’t the question,” he replied.

“Please tell me.”

The look in Childe’s eyes as he squeezed the Wanderer’s hand had such a pleading essence in them that he couldn’t help, but to give in. With a sigh he admitted, “I still think about it sometimes. I wake up in the middle of the night because of a memory showing up in my dreams. I’m not necessarily scared of fire, but looking at it brings back the memories of that day. If I had a pyro vision, I might have offed myself.”

“I’m really sorry.”

The apology made the breath hitch in the Wanderer’s throat. Childe seemed to be good at taking his breath away in a variety of ways.

“For what?”

“You just… No one deserves to have to live with that.”

“I’d argue some do.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think you do.”

“That’s sweet, I guess.”

The Wanderer did deserve it, but he wasn’t going to be the one to disappoint.

“We should go on to the next question.”

“Oh, right, yes,” Childe stammered. He looked down to see the Wanderer’s hand in his own and started to blush til he became a cherry color. He didn’t remove his hand, he just continued to stumble through the next question, “If you knew you’d die in a year, would you change anything about how you’re living now, why or why not.”

“Hah,” the raven haired man let out a bark of a laugh. He jeered, “I’ve been alive for about five hundred years, dying would be a miracle.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I’ve changed enough over the years, if I change again, it won't be because I’m dying in less than a year,” the Wanderer said with a sneer. If he really could, he’d make some friends again, just so he wouldn’t have to die alone. However, he wasn’t going to just say that, it was too embarrassing to admit.

“Ah, if I had only a year left… Maybe I’d fight less, just so I could savor that time y'know?” Childe answered. His hand had taken to rubbing circles into the Wanderer’s own while he thought. For a moment, the anemo wielder thought he’d melt if Childe even took one more moment to contemplate. But he spoke eventually, saying, “I’d like to spend my time with my family before I die. It’s already risky, being with the Fatui and all. We have this… thing, and it’d probably kill a normal person, but when I use it… It just drains me, perhaps I should be more careful.”

Childe had meant the delusions. The Wanderer knew exactly what the delusions could do. He had supplied the forces in Watatsumi with them. He knew they would all die, but he felt like maybe, just maybe, he was giving them a chance to achieve something. They were going to die anyway, but the idea of hearing that the delusion may drain Childe fully one day… It frightened him.

“Question twenty,” the Wanderer said, he wanted to avoid talking about delusions as quickly as possible, “What does friendship mean to you?”

There was silence for a moment. The Wanderer knew why. Childe didn’t have many friends.

“I guess, well, I don’t really know.”

At least he was honest.

“I thought maybe I had befriended a god, but eventually, he just betrayed me. It’s kind of hard to make friends in this line of business. I met this girl in Inazuma, I think we’re friends? She’s quite sweet. Oh and this musician, she was very fun.”

The girl from Liyue was new, the shorter felt jealousy stir a bit in his stomach when she was mentioned. He didn’t even know her name, but it made him hate her just a little bit.

“I don’t have many friends, I guess it would mean some sort of loyalty, but I don’t think the girls and I know each other well enough to be loyal to one another. Perhaps the Traveler? They’re quite interesting, but they have no loyalty to me. In fact, they hate the Fatui. Then, they locked us in here…”

A pause.

“I guess I don’t know.”

Unintentionally, the Inazuman squeezed the hand that had been holding his. He didn’t really know what else to do. Childe had just admitted to not having friends and yes, he knew that, but really thinking about it made him a little sad. The action seemed to cheer up the harbinger, who had smiled in response and urged for the Wanderer’s own answer.

He just replied, “I’m not going to say friendship is magic or whatever, it doesn’t really mean anything to me. It’s just… Company.”

Both of their answers were quite mediocre. Were they really that unlikable? Who knew people had an aversion to befriending war criminals?

“Well, this question’s more fun!” the ginger pipped. A small, mischievous grin painted his face, his stupid, blue eyes had begun to twinkle. It was abhorrent.

“What role does love and affection play in your life?”

With his free hand, the Inazuman pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, mimicking exactly what had happened during the first time they had played. He sighed, “It doesn’t play a role. Who do I look like I’m getting love and affection from?”

“Well, we are holding hands.”

Oh, so they were going to acknowledge it.

“What? Do you want me to say you’re the only person who’s given me affection all these years?”

“All these years?”

Shit.

“No, just… ugh,” the Wanderer snatched his hand out of the other’s and held his face in his hands. He didn’t really know how to fix that slip up. He just waved his hand about dismissively and said, “You answer.”

“But wha-”

“No. No, you answer. Now.”

The hydro user let out a huff and shook his head in annoyance. He pointed his finger at the Wanderer and said, “You’re quite annoying, aren’t you?”

The response just made the Inazuman laugh.

“Oh? I’m the annoying one? Hah, be for real.”

“I am!”

“Hilarious, as always. Now, answer the question.”

“What do you mean ‘as always?” Childe spouted, but he gave up quickly. The Wanderer knew he wanted to finish the game. Childe was dumb enough to hope that furthering the game would answer his questions. Maybe, he’d be right, for once.

Childe answered, “Ugh, well, I would say I get a lot of love and affection from my family. Other than that? Not so much, unless you count this wet cat of a person who was holding my hand.”

Wet cat. Childe just called the Wanderer a wet cat of a person. He was going to sob, internally, out of rage.

“I’m going to… ignore that comment,” the shorter replied, glaring daggers towards the ginger. A wet cat? Really? He was going to think about this for days. Sleepless nights in the future just filled with the memory of getting called a wet cat of a person. He was appalled.

Stiffly, he asked, “Share five positive things about your partner. Alternate.”

Gods, he wanted to kill himself.

Childe grinned as he said, “One, you’re quite cute, like a little cat.”

“I’m going to murder you once we get out of here.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“Fine. One, you look like you’d be easy to stab.”

Childe laughed. The sound made the Wanderer’s cheeks heat up. It made him angry at himself, why was he getting flustered now?

“Two, you’re quite funny,” the Snezhnayan said.

“You’re entertaining, I guess.”

“Three, you seem to have a lot of interesting stories.”

“You’re not as bad as the other Fatui.”

That response drew another laugh out of Childe. He giggled with his head in his hands and asked, “What do you know about the other Fatui?”

“Enough.”

“Four, you’re soooooo mysterious.”

“From what you said, you’re good at fishing.”

“Five, you’re really pretty.”

Childe whispered that last answer. Maybe the Wanderer’s face was able to turn physically red because the harbinger just stared at his face. It made him even more flustered and he tried to turn away, but Childe reached across the table and forced the Wanderer’s face to look at him. He was such a brute. In retaliation, the Wanderer moved his face and bit Childe’s hand.

“Ow, shit!”

“Five, you’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s not a complement either.”

“Take it as one or I’ll bite you again.”

“Fine, fine!”

Childe rubbed his bitten hand and eventually opted to sucking the injured part in his mouth. He glared at the Wanderer, but there was no real malice in his eyes. He wasn’t angry, just playfully annoyed at the shorter man sitting across from him. In all the commotion, the bowl of porridge had nearly been knocked over.

With his hand still in his mouth, Childe asked, “How close are you with your family? Do you think you had a better childhood than others?”

“I was never a child so I wouldn’t know,” the puppet huffed, he rolled his eyes and continued, “I hate my mother.”

“I love my family, we’re all very close, less so with my father because he sent me off to the Fatui and all, but still relatively close,” the ginger replied, muffled from his hand. He let it fall from his mouth, inspecting the wound. It was only just now that the Wanderer noticed he hadn’t been wearing his gloves.

Still inspecting his hand, Childe said, “My childhood was fine until I fell into the abyss, quite boring really.”

His eyes glinted with amusement, his eyes turning upwards to stare at the Wanderer. A cheeky smile formed on his face and he teased, “I’m sure you’ll love the next question.”

“What’s your relationship with your mother?” the shorter asked through gritted teeth. He wanted to bite Childe again.

“Well, not to brag, this seems like a sensitive subject, but me and my mother get along very well. She’s so sweet, you should meet her one day. Maybe she’d cook you a warm stew, that might fix your cold attitude,” Childe quipped. He set his injured hand down again and gestured for the Wanderer to give his own answer. It wasn’t going to be as sweet.

“Well, my mother quite literally abandoned me in a hole, she doesn’t remember who I am, I stole her gnosis, I hope she dies like her sister.”

Silence.

“Archons, you’re morbid.”

Despite the comment, the Snezhnayan was laughing. He was running his hand through his hair in a fit of giggles. He attempted to cover his mouth, but the laughter still escaped his lips.

The Wanderer couldn’t help, but smile a bit at the scene. He even laughed a bit with Childe, the noise filling up the relatively silent teapot. The moment was oddly sweet. Maybe it wouldn’t have been if either were normal and didn’t relish in the idea of bloodshed, if they didn’t somewhat enjoy the curiosities of death, but they weren’t normal. They laughed at the idea of the Wanderer’s mother dying like her sister, which had been the whole reason he had been created at all.

“Set three,” Childe said, through giggles. He tapped his fingers on the table, in an attempt to ground himself, and said, “Make three ‘we’ statements. We can alternate.”

“Well, we’re both laughing about my mother dying,” the Wanderer snickered.

“Stop, stop, it’s not funny,” the ginger cried, clearly holding in more laughter. There was something wrong with them. “We’re both playing this game.”

“Two, we both were trapped here by the Traveler.”

“We’re both sitting at this table.”

“We’ve both been playing, for what now? An hour?”

“There’s no clocks in here,” Childe replied, looking around the walls. He looked out the window, to see the sun. It shined on his hair again, turning it gold once more. He squinted and said, “Yeah, about an hour.”

Placing his hand down, close to the Wanderer’s own, he said, “Three, we both wish to continue the game.”

“Do we?”

“You would've stopped a long time ago if you didn’t want to play.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Just a hunch.”

The Wanderer folded his arms across his chest and gave Childe an appraising look. Once again, Childe had given the same answer as before, but this time when asked how he knew, Childe said it was just a hunch. Before, the original response made the Wanderer’s “heart” flutter. Childe had said he had known him. They knew each other well enough to know the Inazuman would have walked off if he didn’t want to continue with the little social experiment, but he did. He would play it over a million times if Childe had asked him to.

“Next one,” the Wanderer breathed. He uncrossed his arms, setting his hands on the table, just an inch away from Childe’s and said, “Finish the sentence. ‘I wish I had someone with whom I could share…’”

“I wish I had someone who I could share my life with. I want someone who’d listen and enjoy everything we could do together. Someone who would understand,” replied the harbinger. It sounded more sad than the Wanderer thought he meant it to be. His fingertips were now right up against the Inazuman’s.

“I wish for the same.”

Without thinking, the Wanderer slipped his hand over the top of Childe’s. Neither reacted to the movement. It felt normal. They had done this exact thing many times before, it was just lost to Irminsul now. There wasn’t really any way for Childe to get those thoughts back, except to do it once again…

The next question slipped ever so carefully from the hydro wielder’s lips, once again going back into their low whispering, “If we were to become close, what is something I should know?”

“How about I answer that one later?” the Wanderer still wasn’t ready. He hadn’t let the dam break yet. Just a few spots of water pushed through, he could hold it up for just a bit longer. Let him cry later, but not now. He needed just a little more time before he let the truth pour out.

Surprisingly, Childe just nodded. He didn’t answer the question either. They had just skipped it in its entirety. It brought up the Wanderer’s own question, one he didn’t voice. He just thought, What if Childe knows something too?

Instead of voicing that concern, he just continued on with the question, number twenty eight, “Tell your partner something you like about them, be very honest, something you wouldn’t say to someone you just met.”

He accidentally emphasized the just. If Childe noticed, he didn’t mention it. How kind of him…

The Fatui member was left to think, just for a little while. The silence made the Wanderer nervous, but he bit his tongue. He didn’t want to rush the moment. He didn’t know if he’d ever get this moment again. He should savor it, even if it was just a quiet bit of time where Childe was just left to think. The response that came surprised him.

“I like how genuine you are.”

“What?”

Childe smiled a bit and repeated, “I like how genuine you are. From what I know, you’ve answered all of what I asked honestly. It’s not like I’m good at telling if someone’s lying, no one is really good at that, but… Something about everything you said just felt, it felt right, y’know?”

The Wanderer did not know.

“Nothing you said felt artificial,” the eleventh explained.

“I am quite literally artificial.”

“But it doesn’t feel like that. You’re a genuine person, despite it all, you’re human.”

The words made the Wanderer choke. He almost started to cry, eyes glazing over. Tears didn’t fall, not yet, but they were so close. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just moved on. It was time for his own answer after all. He said, in slight annoyance, using the sharpness of his words as a barricade against his tears, “I like how irritating you are. You’re so insistent. It’s so fucking annoying to the point you’re almost charming. You make me sick.”

“Thank you, I try.”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

“But I need to know the most embarrassing moment in your life.”

The evil, playful glitter returned to the Fatui’s eyes. That damned smile finding home among his features. It was as revolting as it was beautiful.

“Honestly?” the Wanderer asks, “It’s this. This whole thing has gotten me flustered and I can’t wait for it to be over. If the gods were to smite me now, I’d be happy.”

“Aw, why’s it got you all flustered?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the anemo holder replied, “We’ve literally been pouring our hearts out to each other. I don’t do this quite often.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed for having feelings.”

“Having feelings is for humans.”

“Well, you must be more human than you think.”

The thought made the puppet’s stomach twist, not necessarily in a bad way, but his gut was folding in on itself. Oh, how he wished the sentiment was really true. There was an old fairy tale about a puppet who wished to become a real boy. The puppet had gotten his wish by the end of the story, but this puppet never would.

“Just… embarrass yourself for me, will you? I don’t want to entertain your notions of me being human.”

“But you’re so beautifully human,” Childe replied. He reached his hand across the table once more, but this time it was gentle. The warmth pressed up against the Wanderer’s cheek was welcomed with him leaning into the touch.

“There’s a difference between gods and humans,” the harbinger explained, eyes fixated on the Wanderer. His tone was colder as he spoke, but it wasn’t really directed to the shorter himself. It was just this general coldness, the one deep within Childe’s eyes, even as he smiled. He continued on, “Gods don’t really seem to care as strongly as you. You seem to care about every little thing. I think that maybe, with time and their godhood, they just… they lost a bit of their capacity to care. You though, you’ve been alive for hundreds of years, you’re not a puppet or a god. You’re simply a person, cursed with immortality.”

Every word hurt so much.

“Please answer the question,” the Inazuman whispered desperately. He couldn’t stand listening to this anymore. He wanted out. He grasped at the hand clutching his face in an attempt to ground himself, nails digging into the skin, but refusing to let Childe pull away. In fact, he aggressively pressed his face further into the palm cradling his cheek, a simple distraction in the face of his intervention.

“Alright,” Childe chuckled, hand still placed on the doll’s cheek. “My most embarrassing moment? Well, I was just starting to use a bow, right? God, it’s horrible. I was stringing up the bow and somehow, I don’t even know how it had happened. I had managed to shoot myself right in the leg. I’m so bad with the bow that it didn’t go really deep, but it hurt.”

The ex Fatui had been there that day. The memory made him giggle against the ginger’s hand.

“There was someone with me, I think? I don’t remember… I can’t remember… I know someone had patched me up, I just don’t know who. Thinking back on it, I guess I just figured it was Dottore, but I never remembered going to him, it was someone else.”

The floodgates were so close to opening. Tears glazing over the Wanderer’s eyes, he desperately tried to blink them away and laughed. The story was just so silly, but the fact he was fully removed from it was so, so sad. The juxtaposition of emotions left him feeling like he was being yanked around by invisible strings.

“I’m sure you just forgot,” the Wanderer mumbled, moving his face so his lips lightly kissed Childe’s palm. It was just meant to distract the other, from the tears threatening to pour down his face or so the ginger didn’t think too hard about the story? Perhaps both. It worked cause the Fatui had coughed and turned his face, which was burning a bright red.

The scar was still on Childe’s leg. Untouched by the years that had passed, a memory of a memory once forgotten.

The game had to continue, even if there was a phantom ache in the anemo user’s leg where Childe’s scar would have been on his own body.

“When was the last time you cried in front of someone else and to yourself?” the Wanderer asked, finally letting go of the other’s hand.

Childe seemed a bit disappointed by the loss, but still answered, “Ah, I can’t remember the last time I cried in front of someone. Um, by myself…?”

He trailed off, looking away in discomfort. With a sigh he continued, “Probably last night, to be honest…”

“Why?”

“I don’t really know why? I just started feeling… Overwhelmed,” the ginger responded. He seemed unsure of himself and of his answer. The Wanderer watching as he chewed his lip in thought.

“The last time I cried in front of someone was when I got my vision, it was in front of the Traveler,” the puppet explained. He fiddled with the vision placed upon his chest. It glowed weakly under his touch. Gripping to it for some sort of support, he muttered, “I guess, I cried last night as well.”

“Really?”

The ginger stared at him owlishly, it was a bit cute. The look on his face brought out a small giggle from the raven haired man, covering his own face in embarrassment. Peeking from between his fingers, he just nodded, neither really wanted to go into details about crying the previous night.

They both agreed it was time for the next question and Childe said it with no complaints about a lack of explanation.

“Tell your partner something you like about them already.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, you’ve already skipped one, I’m holding you to that answer by the way.”

Ah yes, if they were to become close, what’s something Childe should know. Maybe he’d be kind enough to reveal that soon…

“I like…” the Wanderer trailed off, unsure of what to say, “I like how you keep reassuring me, I guess. It’s a bit overwhelming, plus I hate it, just a bit… But I appreciate the effort you’re putting to tell me I’m human somehow, even though I don’t think I’ll ever fully believe you.”

Childe smiled warmly and said, “I like that you’ve opened up to me. You said that’s something you don’t normally do. I guess… I guess I like the trust you’re putting in me, for whatever reason. I feel almost special.”

He was special.

There were only five questions left. The room in the air became filled with an anxious static. They wanted to finish the game so badly, the Wanderer knew his answer for the thirty-third question, he wanted to get the truth out as fast as possible, but the thirty-second stood in the way still.

Quickly he asked, “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“I think we have the same answer to that since we both were laughing at your mom’s hypothetical death,” the taller chuckled.

“Yeah,” the ex Fatui breathed.

Then there was the question that might just reveal it all. Their answers were so rushed, just in an attempt to reach some sort of end. A climax of sorts…

Looking the Wanderer up and down, a hand coming to rest on his own face, Childe asked, “If you were to die tonight, without being able to communicate with anyone, what would you regret not saying most and why haven’t you said it?”

Shit.

“I have the answer, but I don’t know if you’d want to hear it,” the Wanderer whispered. He fiddled his hands together, nervously trying to ground himself. It hadn’t been working.

“I think I have an idea.”

“Do you?” the ex Fatui breathed. So Childe did know this whole time. He hadn’t said anything, perhaps for the Wanderer’s sake.

With a shaky breath, the harbinger said, “After hearing all of your other answers, yes.”

“Can’t you say it instead of me then? I don’t know if I can say it out loud…” as he spoke, tears began to wet the former sixth’s eyes. He desperately tried to breathe normally, but it only led to small gasps for air. He bit his lip harshly to prevent anything from spilling. A flush covered his face in embarrassment as he held back the water threatening to leak from his eyes.

“We’ve met each other before haven’t we?”

Silence.

“Who were you?” Childe gently prodded, his hand reached for the Wanderer’s own hands, which were still fidgeting about, trying to bring them to a halt.

“I was the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers.”

“And me?” the hydro user gently asked, “What was I to you?”

“You were my…” the Wanderer choked. The air had escaped whatever he had for lungs. Pushing through, he shakily said, “You were my lover, one could say…”

The dam broke. The tears he willed not to fall for the entire game had begun to spill and the Wanderer knew he couldn’t stop them. His face was blank as the tears poured out from his eyes. He remembered it happening so often before, his excuse was always that it just happened sometimes, but now the reason was ever so clear.

There was a heavy silence in the air, everything had begun to feel muggy in that dining room. Nothing could be heard except Childe’s breathing and the gasps of air the Wanderer took as he cried.

But the silence soon ended with simply a question, “Is that why you seemed so familiar?”

“Perhaps.”

“That’s a lot to take in.” Childe’s face bore no emotion. It made the Wanderer more nervous than he’d ever been in his life. Even becoming a god had been less nerve wracking than staring at Childe’s blank face, unable to tell what thoughts were hidden behind his dull, blue eyes.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

So they had gone back to whispering, or so Childe had. It was hard to whisper between sobs as the Inazuman choked out with a weak laugh, “You don’t. You have to decide if you want to trust me or not, we’ve been over this.”

“I think I do,” Childe breathed. His large hands rubbed over the two of the Wanderer’s, engulfing the balled up extremity. A sad smile formed his usually bright face and he asked, “And why didn’t you tell me?”

The puppet laughed harshly through the tears, causing himself to cringe at the noise reverberating around the room. He chuckled, “Even those who aren’t human have their fears. Do you know how ridiculous it's sound to someone if I just went up to them and said, ‘Hey, I erased everyone’s memory of me, but we used to kiss sometimes.’”

“Were you scared that I’d think you were crazy or that you’d never have another chance with me?”

“That’s not part of the question.”

A moment passed.

A single, fragile moment, before Childe said, starting to fidget with the hands underneath his own, “Well, I’d regret not telling you I’d like to try again… I guess this answers what we’d need to know if we ever got close.”

A second passes, maybe five, maybe a minute, or an hour, maybe even days, but after the silence that felt like an eternity, the Wanderer managed to ask, “And why haven’t you told me?”

Childe let out a shaky laugh, saying, “I didn’t even know that was an option, I didn’t know there was an ‘again.’”

“There is, I mean, we can have an ‘again,’ if you’d like, I mean,” the Wanderer stammered. He wasn’t one to get flustered. Everyone knew this, but something about Childe managed to take all of his confidence and demeanor away.

“I would, I want to remember why I fell in love with you.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“You’ll just have to let me do it a second time.”

The Wanderer laughed, it sounded so overjoyed by that mere suggestion. Tears still streamed heavily down his porcelain-like skin. He smiled so tightly, as that was all he could manage, and he said, “Ajax, I’d let you do it as many times as you wanted.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course I do,” the puppet giggled. He took his hands from under Childe’s, waving away the awe on his face. He smiled and said, “Come on, we still have to finish this.”

“Oh, right, right!”

The ex Fatui smiled and asked, “If your house caught on fire, what item would you try and save and why? Given that any pets and family are already safe.”

“I have this porcelain sculpture, it’s of this wha-” Childe said, eyes gazing somewhere wistfully.

“It’s not a whale, I suppose you wouldn’t remember, but I’ve told you hundreds of times that orcas are a type of dolphin,” the Wanderer interrupted. Despite just having revealed his deepest secrets to the man in front of him, he was still quite annoying.

“I didn’t remember where it came from, I suppose you gave it to me then?”

“Yes, it was a birthday gift.”

He remembered the day. Childe hadn’t been able to go home for his birthday that year. He had been quite sad about it, he had really wanted to see his family, so the Wanderer decided to make him a gift.

He wasn’t the most skilled in the art of porcelain. He made many, many attempts. He could’ve just bought something else, or even just bought what he was trying to make, but it felt a bit impersonal. Using the Fatui’s money to fund a birthday gift, the idea made him feel disgusted.

So, he made attempt after attempt, already a good month before the eleventh’s birthday, staying up late at night, trying to perfect this small, porcelain figure. It had been more difficult than the former sixth had expected, but in the end, it was perfection.

The statue had ended up being quite large for what it was. The base had been white, mimicking the orca jumping out of the waves. He managed to get the white material to curl, creating a beautiful splash pattern. The actual orca was exquisite. The black and white paint job looked sleek and glossy, it looked professional.

When he gave it to Childe, the other had almost knocked it over. He had immediately launched the shorter into a hug and showered him in little kisses all over his face. Praises and thanks spilled from his lips as he pulled away, grabbing the figure to look it over and stare in awe at the detail. He said that orcas were his favorite whale, which the Wanderer immediately corrected, but to this day, the orca was still called a whale.

“It’s really beautiful, thank you,” the harbinger whispered. His cheeks were so red and his eyes had started to sparkle with tears that had begun to form.

“You’ve already thanked me, hundreds of times now probably.”

“Yes, but I wanted to remember this time.”

The comment made the Wanderer turn his head, heat burning up his face.

“You blush a lot,” the harbinger commented. So, the Wanderer did in fact turn red. THe heat in his face only grew and he tried ducking his head away further, mobility decreased from being sat in a chair.

“Shut up.”

“I will, but you need to answer the question.”

“Fine,” the raven haired man muttered. “It’s not an interesting answer, I don’t have a home.”

“Ah, well, surely there’s something you own that you’d save regardless.”

The recorder. He kept it in his bag so the Wanderer would be able to take it out and listen to it whenever he could. Just the thought of the item had made him feel embarrassed, but the current recording was still going and embarrassed squeaks weren’t the most fun for him to listen back to.

“I have a recorder,” he said. His bag wasn’t with him so he couldn’t pull it out and show the other, but he continued on, “We’ve played this game before. You insisted on recording it and when I left the Fatui… I took it with me. If you need proof we know each other, all thirty-six questions are recorded on that mini recorder, just like the one you placed on the table.”

It was quiet for a minute, all of these silences probably added a good ten minutes onto the tape, but they had each managed to always break it, not letting themselves fall into the abyssal space of quiet for too long.

“I’d like that, a lot actually, I trust you, but…” Childe sighed, it wasn’t sad or tired, it was more wistful than anything, ‘I’d just like to hear what we were like before.”

“Well, thirty-five,” the harbinger pipped excitedly, trying to rid himself of the nostalgic mood he had been placed in. “It’s not a fun one… Who’s death in your family would disturb you most and why?”

“Literally almost every person I’ve known has died, it’d be a miracle if Beelzebub died as well, I’d be disturbed, not because it was her, just… The concept of a god truly dying is a little terrifying,” the Wanderer explained. He reached for Childe’s hand to steady himself, the other gratefully taking the small into his own. He just said, “Gods don't seem to usually die of old age. If she had died, my mother would have to be murdered and I might have to be the one to do it.”

“Well, if you ever need help,” the ginger laughed. It made the Wanderer feel a bit better. Someone would be on his side if all hell broke loose in this war. If he had to be the one to kill his mother, someone would be there with him.

“What about you?” the smaller man asked.

He knew Childe’s answer, it was Teucer.

He was a bit hesitant. He never liked hearing this answer. He… Didn’t like thinking about dying children very much. Sure, someone like Dottore may revel in their torture, but the Wanderer? He had a soft spot for children and was kind enough to the elderly. It was adults he didn’t like. Panickedly, he whispered, “You don’t have to answer that one, if you don’t want to. I… I wouldn’t mind not hearing it.”

Children weren’t cruel. Not on purpose. They just didn’t know any better most of the time. The idea of watching children die only brought him back to the fire. The child’s death may have been punishment for his future sins, and that idea brought him to tears.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Childe was leaning over the table now, cupping the Wanderer’s face in both hands. He wiped away the tears spilling down with his thumbs. The warmth in his hands felt almost overstimulating.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, it just happens, I just… Remembered something,” the Wanderer babbled, grabbing onto the hands that tenderly held his face. The eyes staring at him were too much. He let out a small sob, “Please, don’t pity me.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” the harbinger reassured. His hands still gripped the puppet’s pale face. It turned red and blotchy from the crying. “Do you really want me to skip this one?”

“Yes, please,” the Wanderer sniffed. He knew he looked pathetic. He was sure that part of why he was ever thrown out was because of how easily his eyes filled with tears. Despite all attempts, the Wanderer was a very emotional creature. He was haunted by the sadness of his existence. A child filled with woe.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hear you describing how much Teucer’s death would ruin you, I think just imagining it would ruin me,” he said helplessly, fingers gripping further into the backs of Childe’s hands.

“Okay, okay, I won’t,” the harbinger whispered comfortingly. Small shushes could be heard, accompanied by even smaller hiccups.

“Thir… Thirty-six,” the Wanderer said shakily. He stared into Childe’s eyes as he began to ask. He hated those eyes. Blue eyes were the color of the Devil’s water… And Childe, he was worse than every demonic abyssal creature throughout all of Teyvat.

And the Wanderer was in love with him.

“Share a personal problem with your partner and ask how they would handle it. Then have your partner reflect on how you’re feeling.”

“Well,” the eleventh began, “My partner seems to be crying and I’d love some advice on how to stop it.”

“It just stops on its own,” the Wanderer snickered, but it hadn’t come out as he intended. His voice sounded so weak.

“Is there any way to make it stop faster?”

“I never tried.”

“Can I try something then?”

The Wanderer squinted at him in disgust.

“You’re going to suggest kissing me, aren’t you? Freak.”

“What? No, nooooo. Why would I- Wow, how could you even suggest I’d even think of kissing you right now? I can’t believe yo-,” Childe babbled. He stood up from the table, pulling himself away from the table for the first time in so long as he walked around, mocking being incredulous.

He was clearly thinking about it. It was fair, of course, the Wanderer was a very pretty crier.

“Shut up, Ajax,” the Wanderer mumbled. The harbinger managed to walk across the other side of the table and found himself next to the short man.

Using his anemo vision, the Wanderer slowly floated up, carried by the wind. He brought himself up quietly to Childe’s height, the other spluttering nervously.

He cupped the taller’s face in his hand, leaning in slowly. Then, he kissed him. It wasn’t some magical kiss. The Wanderer could taste his own tears in his mouth, but it was so soft that he could melt. It was a sweet, close-mouthed kiss, lips pressing so gently next to each other.

Realizing what was happening, the shorter suddenly dropped himself down, releasing the anemo energy holding him up. He looked up anxiously at Childe and said, “Okay so my problem is that I just kissed my partner and I don’t… What just happened?”

“Well,” Childe’s voice sounded breathy, his face pink, he looked a mess despite the fact they had kissed for less than a minute. He laughed, “That doesn’t sound like a problem.”

“It’s the biggest problem I’ve ever had in my life.”

“I see,” the ginger hummed coyly. He grabbed the ex harbinger by the waist, pulling him closer. Bending down, he said, “I think you could solve your problem by kissing me again.”

And so they did. Childe bent down and his lips met the Wanderer’s. It was just as soft as the first. Each movement slow and deliberate. They didn’t want to rush this moment. They couldn’t. If they rushed even a single thing, the room might break around them. The whole world would melt away if they even went a second faster.

Neither knew who pulled away first, but they did at some point. The recorder was now filled with at least minutes of white noise, the sounds of kissing barely being picked up in the audio.

“You’ve stopped crying.”

The Wanderer didn’t know what to say. He lifted a hand to his face and sure enough, his face was dry.

“I guess I did…”

“Hah, you know what’s next right?”

Four minutes of solid eye contact.

This was going to be the Wanderer’s worst fucking nightmare.

Childe pulled a watch from his pocket and set a timer.

“Ready?”

“No, but let’s start.”

Childe hit the timer and suddenly the Wanderer’s violet eyes were met with Childe’s blue eyes. The eye contact made his skin crawl. It was so horrible, he wanted to scream. It was just so forced and so awkward.

Without tearing away his eyes, the Wanderer muttered a complaint. He’s always hated eye contact. Childe didn’t have that problem. The other would always make just a bit too much eye contact. Enough to make someone uncomfortable. It did actually, it made many people uncomfortable.

People with blue eyes should be eradicated, the Wanderer thought, chewing his lip.

The staring had begun to make him feel as if he was sweating. He didn’t think he was capable of sweating, but he felt so clammy. If it were anyone else, he would've punched them.

“Isn’t this nice?” Childe asked.

“Absolutely not, I want to tear off my skin.”

“Ugh, I don’t know what people want, they either say I make too much eye contact or complain when I don’t make enough.”

“Yes Ajax, I know,” the Inazuman replied with a sigh. The two men were both… very much autistic. Ei managed to create a puppet with autism, she deserved a Nobel Prize in science.

Though he hated it, the staring made the Wanderer notice the different flecks of blue in Childe’s eyes. It freaked him out a bit. Sure, purple eyes weren’t the most natural, but blue eyes were almost frightening. Childe’s especially. They held such a deadness to them, hardened from all the bloodshed he had seen and committed. It reminded the puppet that, beneath the kind words and softness Childe possessed, he still maintained the eyes of a killer. It was horrifying and yet, so alluring… So lovely.

“Your eyes make you look like a freak,” the shorter said.

“Rude.”

“I’m being honest.”

“Your eyes… They’re really pretty.”

“I’m not going to dignify you with a response.”

“I really want to kiss you again.”

Having Childe look him in the eyes when he said that made a shiver run down the puppet’s spine.

“Just… one more minute.”

The ginger nodded. That last minute felt like a lifetime. The Wanderer wanted nothing more than to kiss Childe as well.

He counted down the seconds in his head, desperate for the staring to be over.

And so it was.

A little ring from Childe’s watch sounded and the two were immediately on each other, kissing softly once again. It felt like they had been in love for centuries. As if Childe had never forgotten the Wanderer at all. That wasn’t true of course, but the Wanderer remembered each movement of Childe’s lips against his and that was enough.

Breaking apart, panting, Childe laughed and said, “You know, the Traveler told me they’d be bringing me to a blind date.”

The Wanderer was in fucking shock.

“They said what?”

The ginger giggled and nodded giddily, clearly not disappointed in what ended up transpiring. It made the Wanderer’s heart flutter, even if he didn’t possess one. Ajax is what gave him a heart, he made him human.

The tape recorder was turned off, a quiet kiss was made, and the thirty six questions had been completed. They had led to love before and once again relit the embers of love. If Childe had forgotten again, the Wanderer would play the game with him over and over until he met his own demise. And even after, the two could play again in Celestia.