Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After countless centuries of conflict, animosity, and power dominance, the war has finally ended.

Ongoing calamities under the influence of two opposing forces are no more. 

Peace and Unification – longings that many desired.

Striving to nurture a prospective future into fruition for countless years to come.

Fear, anxiety, anguish, despair – many of such are no more. 

No longer a threat plaguing the minds of many nationwide.

Despite the altercations and aftermaths, leading to countless collateral damages, everyone is slowly accepting their new present and future.

Of which no one’s destiny is controlled or preconceived by a higher authority.

And yet, many are struggling to move forward. 

Some traumatized. Others remain in the past. 

No one can ever fault those who can’t easily come to terms with their new reality. 

Not even Teyvat’s renowned star-traveling savior.

But being in the company of another, who shares her burdens, may just be what she needs to take 

that next step. 

And vice-versa.

💛💫✨💖🐳⚡️💙

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to finally show up.” 

‘ ...‘Finally,’ he says …’ 

The familiar cockiness of his tone echoes in the wind along with his light but confident steps. Lumine was starting to wonder when he would reveal himself from the shadows.  

“And for a moment, I was beginning to think that lumina mea wouldn’t show up. I put much effort into crafting a beautifully written invitation for another rendezvous.” 

The familiar mixed aroma of Sneznhayan potpourri and Sandbearer wood permeates the salty, moist air. Had it not been a recognizable scent, Lumine, admittedly, would have found it almost difficult to feign ignorance of his presence. But, expectedly, she refuses to give in to his effect on her – retaining her, focusing strictly on the bright, pearlescent moon above instead of his approaching figure.

‘Of course, she would go with that tactic. Not bad, devochka. Not bad.’

The soft crunching of his boots against the sand echoes with each step, rhythmically accompanied by the brushing of Yaoguang Shoal’s waves and the clinking of the metal from the ends of his scarf and eyepatch. Intentional or not, to Lumine, such sounds are pretty satisfying.

“You know…it feels like it's been a while since we had one of these little meetings. Away from any unwanted attention. Like a little secret respite.” 

Tartaglia wouldn’t openly admit, even to her, that those moments were one of his favorites. Despite popular speculation, even he, a Harbinger, wants to indulge in moments of vulnerability—seeking the company of someone he could be comfortable around. Someone who isn't a specific member of his family, where titles and associations can be dropped, even for a moment. 

Considering this, Tartaglia also questions whether she shares the same thoughts. To unwind, he suggests letting go of all inhibitions and opening the floodgates to any pent-up emotional distress. If Lumine were to make this request, he could confidently say he would comply.

“It always felt like an honor with each meet-up.” His singular eye crinkled upwards, laced with unbridled amusement. “To be graced by the presence of my strong, yet beautiful zirochka. ”

After all, he can never resist the desire to recreate some of their ‘ intimate’ moments. Especially when involving his shoddy attempts at flirting and smooth-talking with his most challenging adversary. 

‘Whatever he’s been calling me so far…at least he’s not being corny about it as it probably could have been if he was *really* trying.’

Not that she minded it. Though cringeworthy at the beginning, Lumine slowly acclimated. Having found some level of fondness with each of Tartaglia’s unscripted attempts at showering her with unbridled flattery – to a degree, that is. 

If she’s being honest, it can be a little embarrassing when he’s (un)knowingly on a roll—to the point it gets under her skin and provokes a reaction from her. Even now, while the twin scars on her back are all he can see, Tartaglia can tell she’s rolling her lustrous, golden eyes at his attempts. Being aware of his effect on her is enough to boost his ego, further deepening his usual smug grin. 

‘How cute. It’s always more fun when she doesn’t make it too obvious. Or, at least, when she’s stubbornly refusing to do so.’ 

Just as the unfathomable number of steps between them shortens, Tartaglia pauses intermittently to admire the brightest amongst the stars before them. But he mustn’t get distracted. Not yet, at least. He still needs to play his final card to make her concede defeat in his little game.

“Even more so when you always continue to shine bright like the ever-burning, ethereal goddess that you ar-”

“You’re late, Tartaglia.” She cuts him off.

Though her head barely inclined over her shoulder, Lumine still managed to silence him with a relatively calm but pointed look—displeasure visibly noticeable in her poised demeanor. 

As expected, that did not deter him. Instead, it tempted him to push further—much like an annoying tick that is hard to remove. Tartaglia relishes being her one and only. 

Bickering and bantering with someone on the same, if not higher, level as him. Bonus points for being someone he cherishes. Especially her. 

Certainly, that’s a topic he hasn't explored with her yet. However, he intends to change that.

💛💫✨

Aware that their little game has ended, Lumine huffs as she redirects her gaze to the vast bioluminescent sea before her. Her mind remains lost and adrift in the enormous pool of thoughts—untouched and unspoken. Whether he can sense this rare but fleeting lapse of emotional fragility or not, Tartaglia chooses not to mention it. She at least safely assumes that is the case, given the many times he has observed her in such states.

Ultimately, he resorts to his usual tactic—an earnest chuckle that seems reserved for her, expressing amusement and… affection? Despite her stubbornness, Lumine feels incredibly relieved to hear how genuine his various forms of laughter are becoming—not that they had never been during their past engagements. 

A lot of the time, his laughs sounded boyish and cocky, confident and mischievous. But then there were also his deep, melodic chuckles that never failed to send shivers and chills down her spine. More so when he intentionally, smoothly shifts to his thick Sneznhayan accent mid-conversation.

Of course, she would never admit to such an effect on her, even if she used the chilling breeze as a decent but rookie excuse. Though futile, her pride refuses to quickly give him any form of acknowledgment that he managed to one-up her with his natural charisma.

But despite all that, this time his laugh (or chuckle), to her, sounded a lot more…for loss of a better word, intimate . It genuinely filled her heart with a warmth that felt so foreign, yet something that she longed for. Something more profound than just mere companionship. Whatever it was, Lumine could tell he was regaining a piece of himself that he was once convinced was long lost.

However, such a topic on specific emotions has always been a can amongst many other cans of worms that have never fully opened to be explored. Back then, there were many valid reasons for that. But now , nothing should be able to stop her from prying the lid open. 

And yet, something deep down inside makes her hesitate—wondering if he is of the same. Putting aside all their endeavors and merits, neither knew how to properly cope and broach the subject of their unspoken feelings. Despite all their mutual growth and accomplishments since their reconciliation back in Liyue, there remains an indescribable wall between them that has yet to be lifted. Something is holding them back. 

Her slight smile curves upwards. A silent chuckle escapes from her plump lips into the sea breeze. 

Whether or not her smile was that of a wry one, she couldn’t be too sure. 

Or rather, she didn’t want to know. Her eyes stop looking down at her reflection. 

She…was scared.

🐳⚡️💙

“You’re late, Tartaglia.” 

‘ Heh. ‘Late,’ she says. Oh, kochana, you have no idea. Truly.’

Sharp and smooth, like always. Though a sign of conceding defeat, her words effectively served as a sharp knife to butter – cutting him off. Not just anyone can pull this tactic off easily on him. He felt a sense of pride in placing a powerful being like Lumine high amongst the Top 3 who could shut him up. It makes him want to push her buttons even more. The only way he knows how to lessen his unease before getting serious with her.

“Hmm…Am I really, though?” 

Chuckling with amusement at the idea of riling her up more to elicit another cutthroat remark, Tartaglia was about to make another cheesy comment. 

At least, that was the plan. But tonight is no longer the night for that. Even a former Harbinger such as himself can’t help but be speechless. And no one could ever fault him for it. 

‘Comrade…’

Words now caught in his throat. Tensing and tightening, much like the soles of his boots rooted to the ground, he gets a better close look at her after shortening the distance by another foot. The air felt heavy, neither uttering a word nor making a sound. Only the breeze and shallow waves made up for it.

‘What’s on your mind… What is causing you such distress despite reaching your goal? Despite aiding in liberating Teyvat from Celestia’s grasp?’

This wasn’t the first time for him to stumble upon her lapses of vulnerability. He often ended up being her shoulder to lean on, even with words left unspoken. His dull eye honed in on her golden pair, gauging her thoughts. While their past encounters were a common focal point of her quandaries, this was different. He has suspicions about the root source but decides to refrain from probing the matter, for now at least. 

If Tartaglia has learned anything, it’s that she doesn't need clichés, flowery, empathetic words, or gestures. Instead, his discovered approaches were…unconventional, to say the least. No one but ‘Childe’ Tartaglia would suggest combat as a therapy session – metaphorically speaking, using each other as targets to strike down as if going for the kill. 

Often, he instigates those bouts more as a greeting for overdue spars. Others were when he needed to blow off steam and vent his frustrations. Once on a blue moon, Lumine will initiate it for emotional release. Those were more special for him – since he’s the only one, besides her brother, who gets to see her in such a vulnerable form.

This was the usual (and only) approach he knew best for them. Despite the camaraderie growing between them, they were still walking on undefined lines and boundaries—whether it was an unspoken agreement due to their affiliations. 

But that couldn’t be helped since Childe had to follow orders, and Lumine had the worst first impression of the Fatui after her first encounter with Signora. But that never stopped him. With everything said and done, Tartaglia truly wanted to at least form a friendly bond with her, never viewing her as an enemy. At least, he achieved that much through their blades.

‘Perish the thought, Tartaglia.’

Indeed, he knew better. After years of getting to know Lumine, he can sense a difference in the unease she emitted. The feeling was similar, but he was also unfamiliar with what he was used to. Despite provocation being one of his love languages with her, even Tartaglia knew it was no longer the way to go. 

But then, what is? What can he do? What can he say to alleviate the unknown burden plaguing her? Will she even let him in?

‘Lyubimaya, share your burdens with me. Put your trust in me as I have already placed mine in you.’

💛💫✨

Time became irrelevant as the two stayed where they were — neither moving so much as an inch. Though tense as it may be, it wasn’t unbearable. Truly, Lumine wants to shatter the silence she brought on to them – break her cold facade, stare him straight in the eyes, and launch herself into his arms. Something that felt like it's been far too long, but not. 

But she can’t. She’s unable to. Everything still feels too surreal for her. Despite achieving her ultimate goal of reuniting with her brother, she still felt a bit…empty. Metaphorically, of course. It’s difficult to put it into words, but Lumine felt like some unknown longing has yet to be satisfied.

Only she doesn't know what that is and why. 

Is it because of the gap in time that made us grow distant?
‘Surely not. We have plenty of time to make up for what was lost. We can rebuild and regain.’

Did the stark difference in our respective experiences change our views and introduce an unbreakable rift?
‘That can’t be. While he, too, is a victim, and his crimes cannot be dismissed, regardless of intent, I still love and treasure Aether. Nothing can ever replace the home we are to one another.’

Lumine knows that nothing can tear them apart, not even each other. They are twins, after all. Each other’s only family. They have been together since the beginning and never separated before Teyvat. They are in no rush to journey together once more. Lumine knew that Aether wanted to explore Teyvat again. 

Ideally, she wanted to tag along with him, to no longer be separated for a moment. Aether’s wish, however, was not. 

Though he, too, wanted the same, mainly due to his committed desire for revenge, an obstacle of his own doing held him back. Just remembering their conversation on the topic remains fresh in her mind.

☼ ✧ ✦ ☾ ❂ ☽ ✧ ✦ ☼

“I’ve brought you nothing but pain and loneliness, Lumine.”

Blinking in surprise at his sudden admittance – which she can’t deny or refute – Lumine gazes at her brother’s profile. 

‘Aether…’

“I know we always jump to the next world after our time in the current is done. But, for some reason, I can’t. I don’t know what that is, but something's pulling me more to Teyvat.” 

His long braid dances in the wind, gazing into the full moon alongside his sister on the highest cliff of Starfell Valley. 

“Despite similar beginnings, our journeys ended up being very different.”

“Aether…” Her heart ached a bit, knowing where he was going with this. “I understand.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Lumine. I want to explore Teyvat alongside you too.”

His lightly faded golden eyes, formerly luminous as hers, met hers. Years of guilt weighed heavily on him, preventing him from returning to the Aether she always knew. 

“But...?” 

It broke her heart that their unfortunate circumstances had immensely changed their lives. But she knew how unshakable and unbreakable their bond was. 

“But first, I need to do some proper soul-searching and atonement for all I have done.” 

His gaze returns to the full moon above them. 

“If I want to embrace the beauty of this world fully and share the same perspective as yours, I need to do this. I need to be able to view Teyvat in a new light.”

“Ae…”

“I know well that starting over like this, even when the near-calamity almost happened not long ago, I will face a lot of resentment. But, as the former Prince of the Abyss, I have to accept it. If I want to make up for the trouble and pain I have brought onto others, I must also face the anger of those I’ve wronged.”

Lumine was lost for words. But not in a bad way. She was just in awe at his resolve. He was doing this all for her, for them, just as she stopped at nothing to reach the end of her journey. For him, for them. 

“You…are so stubborn. You never change.”

Shaking her head, she sighs in defeat. Lumine knew Aether well enough to understand that nothing would stop him once he decided on something. But deep down, she’s glad his kindness and caring nature never faded. She’s relieved that the Abyss never robbed him of that.

“As if you’re any different, Lu.”

Lightly elbowing her, Aether let out a chuckle, her following after him. They soon dissolved into laughter, something they both missed doing together. Even though they will be temporarily apart once more, it's only just that. Temporary. This split is not by force but by their mutual agreement. 

Lumine and Aether knew they were still suffering from old scars that would take time to heal. Luckily, neither was in a rush for that. Their paths converged again even when split and diverged due to an external force.

☼ ✧ ✦ ☾ ❂ ☽ ✧ ✦ ☼

‘We have both reached a mutual decision. And it’s not that bad.’

Lumine entrusted him to Paimon, who was happily willing to be Aether’s guide after he decided to see things from her perspective. While her journey cannot be recreated for him, Aether at least wants to re-experience Teyvat without his vision clouded by despair and a thirst for revenge.

However, to alleviate the separation anxiety that Lumine and Aether had been suppressing, they agreed to send letters to each other and establish designated meet-ups to catch up and share stories. 

This way, everyone is happy, and nothing can obstruct the path to a new future.

‘And despite all that, I still feel distraught. But why? What is making me so hesitant? So anxious? So-...’

** throb **

‘-so much pain in my heart.”

Lumine can barely fathom the reason. She finally has her brother. Teyvat has been saved. And like any other world, once they finish enjoying their time in this world, they will move on to the next-

** throb **

‘It’s as if the idea of leaving Teyvat with my brother, whenever possible, gives me a sense of…guilt? Of dread? Why do I feel like….like I will regret it?’

Feeling such pains of departure has always been an expected sensation when traveling between worlds, but never to this extent. This heaviness is foreign, as if the source was something her heart knew but not her mind. 

Clutching her heart, Lumine blinked back a tiny tear that nearly broke. Her breaths waver, burning her tightened throat with each salinity intake. Her mind becomes clouded by such distress, unable to acknowledge her surroundings.

‘Is something else holding me back? Or…is it someon-’

“Lumine.”

Or is it someone?

.

.

.

Everything stills. The passing breeze. The soft, bioluminescent waves. The heel of his boot barely hovers above the semi-moist sand before crunching it – contrary to hers planted deep. 

Any thoughts that plunged her deeper into uncertainty vanished instantly. The echoes of his voice gently calling her name reverberated like a soft melody, and her heart soared as her mind emptied.

‘Just now…did he...?’

Words that she could have said are now long forgotten. All that remains are her thoughts of the present, catching up to reality as her surroundings remain white noises—save for the ‘shaa’-ing tumbles of the waves.

‘Did I imagine it? But there’s no way…’

Suddenly, all she can hear is her heart's loud, rhythmic percussions, picking up in intensity with each confident approaching footstep and echoing loudly as their distance shortens. It’s a foreign feeling that makes her want more despite the anxiety it instills.

‘No, Lumine, he did. ’ 

~40 steps~

‘Clear as water. Clear as night.’

~32 steps~

‘Not referring to me as either ‘Traveler’ or ‘Comrade.’

~22 steps~

‘Not even ‘Ying’ or ‘Hotaru’.’

~14 steps~

‘Not any of my aliases, honorific titles. Or even the many pet names he’s been using. Just-’

“Lumine.”

Eleven steps away from being a heel-to-toe distance between his chest and her back, from his warm breath hitting her exposed neck and shoulders. Never daring to cross past the threshold, retaining all the lessons his mother had always drilled and pounded into him towards women, according to him.

‘Ever the gentleman.’

A small smile curves on her lips as her front bangs dance along the sea breeze, catching the mixed scent of sandbearer wood and…what she can only imagine being Snezhnayan potpourri.

‘Probably his mother or younger siblings gifted him another satchel. ’

She couldn’t help but inhale the calming mixed scents briefly and exhale a slight hum.

‘How soothing…I should consider dropping a surprise visit to his family again. Maybe look up some recipes to make a potpourri mix of my own for them…’

As her shoulders start to slacken with each inhalation of the mixed aromatics, Lumine’s name, spoken in his voice, continues to echo in her head. 

‘You sly fox…catching me off guard…But, I don’t mind it.’

Lumine never imagined that Tartaglia would ever use her **real** name. Something very precious to her that only Aether (and Paimon) knew. She never imparted this crucial piece of herself to anyone else. And yet, a part of her back then in Sneznhaya compelled her to extend her trust to him. Part of her wondered if it was the same for him.

🐳⚡️💙

Seeing her form shifting into a more content state — shoulders slouching upon the scents he knew would soothe her—Tartaglia, too, felt more at ease.

‘Good…Looks like she’s a bit more relaxed….No doubt…I wouldn’t have managed that without Mama’s homemade potpourri satchel. She truly knows what’s best.”

Knowing that he can now lessen the distance, Tartaglia takes another few steps forward, shortening the gap to seven steps. His singular, oceanic eye crinkles upwards—worshiping the majestic being before him.

To him, it feels as if the moon is bestowing good fortune upon him tonight. Bathing her entire body in a soft, silver glow—illuminating each defining feature that captivates him even more. It’s as if the moon graces her with a halo—perfect for an angelic celestial like Lumine.

His sole, dull right eye shifts its gaze from each of her defining features before reaching his final, most keen interest. Her notable scars are between her shoulder blades, a reminder of something she had long lost but recently regained—markings that will never vanish.

Even if he were to glide his fingers in soft, gentle caresses like he usually would (given the allowed opportunity), the sight that stings his heart never ceases, the intrusive dark thoughts that follow after.

It unnerves him each time he feels the musings tickling the back of his brain.

‘How twisted I was…and still am.’

A wry smile forms on his lips as he stares intensely at her winged scars, entranced by their beauty yet wounded by the pain they carry. This conflict stirs in him a bubbling mix of unease, worry, and, above all, anxiety. Such acknowledgment of vulnerability, which he usually keeps under wraps, is a telling sign that his former life as a Harbinger is no longer necessary.

The realization that he still chooses to deny—he couldn’t help but let out a silent scoff.

‘It’s ironic. Part of me longed for this to be a reminder that she’s bound to Teyvat, unable to fly away. Unable to escape my grip whenever I held her close during our shared nights outside—seeking comfort from me of all people. Rubbing circles with my thumb, reassuring myself that she’s still here.’

Tartaglia couldn’t help but sigh, strained by the deep, tainted thoughts of wanting her to stay. Having the hopes that her formerly clipped wings wouldn’t sprout once more.

‘Seven hells, you are out of your mind, Tartaglia.’

Despite his casual and calm mannerisms, Tartaglia could argue that he’s now becoming a nervous wreck. And that alone sounds exceedingly uncanny (not that he minded it).

‘It’s so unbecoming of me… to have fallen so deeply for her.’  Breathing out an airy chuckle, he shakes his head at his acceptance of something his past self would have considered borderline absurd. ‘Ironically but unsurprisingly, the depths of the Abyss could never compare.’

Thinking back from a few months to years, he would never describe himself as such — unless it concerned his family and their lives. Otherwise, he would define himself proudly as the Tsaritsa’s weapon of war and a man who would utilize any weapons and power, even those from the Abyss, if given the chance, to hone further and sharpen his unending potential to get stronger.

“I have accomplished so much that hardly any mortal being could ever hope to achieve. Surviving the Abyss, joining the Fatui during my early teens after impressing the Rooster, eliminating dragons in their lairs, becoming a Harbinger close to my early 20s – the list is endless!’

And yet, things changed beyond his wildest dreams the moment he met Lumine, not under the ideal circumstances, but arguably in the best way possible. Despite her blatant but understandable suspicion – which also irked him a bit when it wasn’t warranted at times – Tartaglia was grateful for what led him down the road of opportunities given to him.

Fate or destiny, he didn’t care. He always sought to define his path and would stop at nothing to achieve his goals while indulging on the side.

But…he cannot and never will deny that a part of him had always viewed himself as a monster, born out of the unhinged means to ignite his childhood desires to overcome his timidity and achieve greatness his former self could never accomplish if left be. It was a heavy price, even if it wasn’t by choice, as once someone steps into the Abyss, their light will be taken away.

Just like ‘ Ajax’ was taken away from his family.

Even if he is still referred to as ‘Ajax’ today, he can never truly be ‘Ajax.’ Tartaglia knew better than that.  After all, a good chunk of ‘Ajax’ died in the Abyss and since joining the Fatui. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying to cling to this piece of identity given to him at birth.

‘I’ll be damned if I lose ‘Ajax’ anymore than has already been lost.’

For the sake of his family, specifically his mother and younger siblings, he vowed to cling to ‘Ajax’, a crucial remnant of his humanity, and will do whatever it takes to emulate him. 

At least, that’s how he saw it before meeting Lumine. Ever since getting to know her, Tartaglia has felt as if Ajax was being revived, even if only partially. ‘It’s strange. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but her presence has helped me feel more... human.’ 

To him, it’s an odd yet inviting sensation with each encounter—like a corrupted part of him being cleansed. It came to the point where his guard lowered, entrusting Lumine with a piece of knowledge meant for her and her alone. However, she couldn't use it. To him, such sensitive information should never fall into the wrong hands. And he knew that that part of him—the real him he still clung to for all these years—would be safe in hers.

‘Though sometimes I wonder…’ His only dull blue eye glistens —blinking back his subtle lament for ‘Ajax ’— focusing now on the moon above them. ‘Will there ever be a day she will use it? Because I don’t think I have the confidence. To have her call me-’

~ 5 Steps~

“Ajax.”

Chapter Text

Minutes felt like hours. It's hard to grasp how much time has passed since they shared a fleeting moment of solitude, gazing deeply into one another’s eye(s) as they dropped their pretenses—partially, however. They maintained a wall between them, both hesitant to break it down and reveal their true selves. 

Initially taken aback, Ajax quickly recovers upon realizing she addressed him by his real name—his birth name. Her voice resonates in his mind, making his heart flutter like a butterfly. He doesn’t conceal the warm, gentle smile that lights up his face, which nearly makes Lumine struggle to regain her composure.

‘How many more times will you catch me off guard like this? Showing me such a rare, tender expression…’

This isn’t the first time she has felt this way, but it catches her by surprise, sending her heart into somersaults, much like those in her mind.

‘Even his only working eye has the same softness. This version of him feels rather...alien. It’s one hell of an irony for me to say.’ Realizing the hilarity of such an unspoken joke, she briefly closes her eyes, a small smile dancing on her lips.

‘I…appreciate this side of him.’

The longer she continues to be enamored by his mesmerizing features, the harder it is for her to think straight. All her words and thoughts go blank as soon as their eyes meet again. 

**thump**

‘Ah…’

Her eyes widen slightly as her heart performs constant cartwheels, each thump echoing loudly in her ears with every passing second. Lumine could feel every fire within her lighting up like a beacon—ignited by his presence as if on demand. And at this moment, it was the faintest crinkling of his eyes.

“Heheh.”

**thump**

And like a moth to a flame, Ajax shortens their distance by a step. 

~ 4 Steps~

“Lumine.”

Gazing at her with unbridled endearment, Ajax’s hand hovers over her cheek, lightly brushing his fingertips against the rosy area of her pale yet fair, soft skin.

“Aj..ax?”

Another chuckle escapes his lips as his eyes crinkle further, amused by her confusion. 

“Hmm.”

Lumine felt like her heart might leap from her chest at this rate. The warmth of his gentle touches melted her under his caress. The racing of unfamiliar emotions became almost too overwhelming for her, making her focus on the tips of her boots. 

‘What’s wrong with me?’

She could barely make out his words had it not been for the echoes of his chuckles keeping her grounded and his finger hooking around her chin, raising her head to look back up at him. 

**ba-dump**

‘Close…’

Ajax holds her chin firmly as he gazes intently at the beautiful star before him, who occupies a significant part of his daily thoughts. Fixated on her facial features, he commits each to memory while tenderly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

**ba-dump**

‘Too close…’

A slight, knowing smirk appeared as he pulled away from her, yet it was not enough to create more than a step distance between them. It took considerable willpower for her to recompose herself and hide the obvious signs of her contentment from his touches. It was hard not to reach for the void of warmth in his presence.

“Ajax?”

His large, leather-gloved hand reaches out to her invitingly. 

“ Zvezda moya…”

Her small, bare hand rests in his palm as he gently guides it to his lips. His soft lips brush against her knuckles for a moment. Lumine’s jaw drops as if it has fallen to the floor, and her heart feels light, as though it could quickly soar to the heavens. His deep blue eye looks straight into her widened golden ones.

“Shall we take a walk, printessa ?”

.
.
.

**crunch** **smoosh**

Their steps along the soft, moist granules synchronize as the duo walks along the wet, sandy bank of Yaoguang Shoal. Just like they used to, even if it was purely coincidental and at his suggestion—always adding a ‘just humor me, Comrade.’

“I wonder what he’s planning. Something tells me this isn’t just one of his whimsical invitations.’

His long strides still mindfully matched her short ones, taking the lead in their little stroll. And just like before, Lumine humors him. After all, to her, this feels like-

“You know? It feels like ages since we last enjoyed a little evening stroll like this.”

The clear water's ambiance creates a quiet, peaceful, and comfortable atmosphere—almost therapeutic. The gentle clinking of their accessories adds to the subtle white noise. For them, collecting star conches never lost its charm, especially when it became a competition.

“It certainly brings back a sense of nostalgia, doesn’t it, lyubimaya ?”

“Hmm, I suppose so. I guess we ended in a tie this time.”

“Heh, I say you have improved your starconch collecting skills.”

Ajax laughed heartily, brushing the damp sand off his pants before scattering the shells along the shoreline. 

‘He looks so ethereal beneath the moon. The bioluminescent seawater does him so much justice with the aura he gives off…”

Lumine didn’t realize how long she had been staring, absorbing everything before her. It was amusing. Her inexplicable worries and fears appeared to have just... disappeared, for now.

‘Ajax, what is this peculiar ability you possess? How do you always know how to lift my spirits, even if just for a moment? Why is it that when I’m with you, I always feel…safer?’

Lumine doesn’t try to break away from her gaze—observing every detail before her that she can commit to memory. 

‘I don’t think I'll ever get tired of this sight…How embarrassing to admit this, even to myself.’

Four distinct colors — her central focus as the echoes of crunching boots along the soft, loamy, moist sand grew louder with each step.

The red twin ends of his scarf dance in tandem with the breeze…

The grey Fatui uniform he continues wearing—a self-reminder of his achievements…

His messy mop of ginger hair, which she knows is deceptively soft and smooth to the touch…

The vast blue sky and sea that complements the hydro aura he exudes…

‘I don’t want moments like these to end…’

It was odd. She had never felt the need to be this attentive to him before. In the past, no matter where they were or what they were doing, Lumine always maintained a certain distance between them. Like in any other world, she never wanted to become attached to any resident of Teyvat, fearing the risk of being hurt when she had to leave for the next one.

‘What is it about you, Ajax? What makes you so different from anyone I’ve ever met, even those from other worlds? ’

‘What is it about you that’s causing me to change these long-standing views and rules that I have carefully set for myself? ’

Lumine can’t seem to reconcile with her contradictions. Part of her knows what's holding her back from the truth, while the rest remains in complete denial. She seeks every possible explanation for her ongoing conflicts, even using her twin and their past travels before Teyvat as justifications. 

A ‘what if’ scenario flickered in her mind for a moment. An image of them looking back at Teyvat as they stand before a grand door above the sky and among the heavens. Gazing down at the world below, filled with vast memories. If things had played out differently, perhaps that could have been the outcome–

‘No, that’s not right. It wouldn’t have made any profound changes. Perhaps Aether would have chosen that outcome. But he didn’t.’

Lumine thought back to their discussion once more, remembering the resolved look in Aether’s eyes. 

‘Aether might have ultimately decided to consider Teyvat our new home , but no doubt it was out of consideration for me. Whether permanent or not, that has yet to be determined. But we do not plan to leave anytime soon (or ever) .’

She can’t quite express it. Lumine knows she’s struggling to accept the newfound emotions she has been suppressing. Not only is she avoiding naming them, but she is also denying them out of fear of being hurt later. 

But that doesn’t make it less desirable for her to reach out to them. She feels a desperate urge to grab the ends of his scarf, pulling him back as if she is struggling to keep him from moving any farther away.

‘I shouldn’t have any reason to feel so disconcerted. So, what could the reason be? Honestly, Teyvat alone isn’t enough of a reason. I know that much because even I can tell it wouldn’t matter which world it was.’

Anxiety crept into her heart once more—as if it were the voice of reason urging her to stop denying the truth—constantly shaking her, exclaiming to her face: ‘he’s literally in front of you!’ 

‘There must be a grander reason preventing me from continuing our norms. To move on to the next world while taking all the memories with me-’ 

**throb**

‘...there it goes again…’  

**thump**

‘...that pang in my chest.’

**ba-dump**

‘...literally in front of me , huh?’

As her eyes rise back to Ajax—occupying a considerable part of her thoughts—her heart instantly leaps into palpitations, once more feeling as if she’s being set on fire.

“Ajax…”

Clutching her heart, Lumine slowly begins to regain her confidence—now determined to confront her insecurities and fears about the present and the uncertain future. She quickens her pace, closing the distance between them—her hand reaching out to him without hesitation. 

‘If these feelings I have for you are genuinely what they seem, despite my better judgment...’

Passing the twin tails of his scarf, Lumine leans closer until her face meets his back, holding him in place as her arms wrap around him. She rarely takes such initiative, and when she does, it stems from her yearning for her brother and her need for the comfort of another's embrace.

‘...will you accept them?’

“L-Lum..ine?”

Her arms tighten as she presses her face deeper into the center of his back. She wonders if he can hear her heartbeat and if his beats the same.

‘Do you…feel the same as I do?’

~ 0 Steps~

🐳⚡️💙

Shocked. Awestruck. Breathless. Captivated. Enchanted. 

If given the chance, Ajax could effortlessly recite a thesaurus-like list of the relentless torrent of emotions he—confidently and proudly—can admit to drowning in. 

“L-Lum..ine?”

He can feel her grip around his waist tighten with a tinge of desperation, her face pressing deeper into the center of his back. He can barely breathe as if he’s drowning deeper than any ocean he’s ever dove. 

‘I’m dreaming. This isn’t real. I am surely going delirious.’

The white noise filling the silent auditory void is suddenly replaced by the loud thrumming of his heart, beating at an ungodly rate in his ear. Her voice calling out his name brings him back to reality, grounding him further as her warmth envelops him.

‘Damn it, I’m a dead man. This woman is literally going to be the end of me. And not in the way the old me from a few years ago would have wanted it.’

Not that he minded. The present him would have been fine with a metaphorical heart attack of her own doing. After all, Lumine is the only one in all of Teyvat and the freaking universe who has completely enraptured his heart. 

Had that not been the case, he would have preferred to be at each other’s throats with their blades and wits. To have the finest metal and the clearest water clash against one another, creating sparks with each collision, singeing their faces with each contact. To have their eyes convey a fierce, burning intensity, refusing to yield until confronted by the sharp edge of their weapons.

His fingers twitched at the thought, yearning to caress and intertwine with hers. He wanted to seize the opportunity—never letting her go and binding them together. In fact, that had been his plan all along! It’s why he went through the trouble of manning up and getting her to come to Yaoguang Shoal as if he weren’t scheming. It took him hours to craft that letter to meet. He did things his former self would never have done.

‘How pathetic. How low have you fallen, me? To be reduced to a weak-willed man trying to woo the woman whom you have confidently declared to be your Comrade.’

This wasn’t like him at all. He’s not used to such shy cowardice…for years.

‘That’s right. The last time I was ever like that was back before…’

Ultimately, he let his arms fall, staring solemnly at the big, full moon hanging above. A quiet, weak chuckle escaped his lips at the realization. 

‘The things you unknowingly do to me, Lumine. Who would have thought you’d be the one to make me feel like my old self—the little boy clinging to his mama and older sister? Who was too scared to hold a knife against anyone, let alone a hare?"

It was pure conflict. Despite his acceptance and embrace of the new version of himself after surviving the Abyss for three months, Childe Tartaglia always knew a part of ‘Ajax’ lay dormant within him, never to see the light of day again. The only time ‘Ajax’ briefly emerged from his slumber was when he was with his family, particularly his mother and younger siblings, when he wasn’t stationed. 

But even then, everyone (except for the younger ones) knew that wasn’t the real ‘Ajax’ —even if he tried with all his might. It was just another mask, using everything he recalled to paint the image that the family's middle child was still there. Everyone believed that ‘Ajax’ was gone forever.

Aside from Lumine, the only person in his life who has so far been his rock—grounding his humanity and further guiding him on his path to improve himself in every way he sees fit.

His mother.

‘Now that I think about it, mamushka always supported me, even if she still carries a trace of sorrow. I always believed she secretly hoped for the old Ajax to come back. But then, when I recall her words of a few years back, I guess I was wrong.’

☼ ✧ ✦ ☾ ❂ ☽ ✧ ✦ ☼

Comrade! It's been a while, hasn’t it? It sure feels like forever since I last saw you. How have you been? Helping each nation with their archonic issues and assisting their residents, I presume? The typical for our rising star hero, eh?

Pause. A brief, deafening silence lingers in the small space filled with Sneznhayan aromatics wafting through the air as Tartaglia stares at the beginning of his letter. Frowning to himself, he dismisses his discontent, replacing the stillness with the sound of his pen scratching across the sheet of parchment.

Anyway, I'm taking it easy and spending time with the little ones at home. I wish you were here . They keep asking questions about you whenever I return back home. As the older sibling, I feel a bit jealous of how much they talk about you, even though only Teucer has met you in person. What a powerful influence you have on people , including me. You might as well skip over nations and come visit us here!

Another pause. The twitch in his brows and fingers was apparent. The urge to tear up yet another miserable attempt felt tangible. With another deep breath and gentle pats on his cheeks, he readjusted his grip on the fountain pen and continued writing. Despite how messy and repetitive the format of his letter was becoming, except for that last sentence—an immediate omission.

Well, as usual, I'm holed up at home, unable to do much since I’m still recovering (though I’m going to get really rusty at this rate). Oh, where are you right now, Comrade? We should catch up! We didn’t get to do that properly last time tim–’

**crumple**

"This is stupid.’"

Another heavy sigh escaped the poor harbinger’s lips as he tossed yet another crumpled ball of paper into his bin, contributing to the already overflowing bin of failed attempts. Aching from the strain of hunching over his desk with such focused dedication to writing a simple letter, Tartaglia leans back in his wooden chair, slightly slouching. This should be no different from any of the many letters he has written to Lumine before. Yet, he can’t quite shake off the awareness of the sudden difficulty in articulating each one as time goes by.

“What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t believe I’m putting this much seriousness into a letter.” 

Mildly frustrated by the absurdity and the fatigue he tried to massage away, Tartaglia pushed his chair back. His stiffened muscles and cricked neck indicated he had been at it for hours—a reality many writers experience.

Not bothering to grab a coat, let alone a scarf, he stepped out onto the front porch—intending to let the icy Sneznhayn winds clear his muddled mind. It was a much-needed relief after being cooped up indoors. It wasn’t so much about being uncomfortable in his home, but rather the restless thoughts he constantly juggles, especially the conflicting ones concerning his self-proclaimed rival and the letters he had sent to her in the past.

Sigh, I’ve had many mundane days that make me nostalgic of our times together. Whether it’s a fight or a challenge, I always feel that having you around is what makes life really interesting. 

“Tsk.” The urge to shudder becomes palpable as he cringes at the memory of the very first letter he wrote to her. Back then, he felt neither shame nor embarrassment about writing it, fully aware that it meant nothing profound or deep. It was purely platonic!

‘Why the hell am I trying to justify my intentions?’

Sighing to himself, Tataglia rests his crossed forearms on the wooden porch railing, staring vacantly at the cold evening sky. His thoughts continue to drift back to all the past letters and their shockingly common theme.

Haha, to be honest, I’ve been planning a special day to meet up with you, today could be that chance! If you have no special plans, how about you swing by at my place?

Hey, Comrade! Where have you been adventuring recently? If you are available, how about we meet up sometime? [...] Anyways, let’s set all those quarrels and fights aside today and focus on things that makes us happy [...]

Ho, Comrade! Travels going smoothly? Nothing major tripping you up in life? [...] I’ve got it! Since you’ve been all over the world, you’ve probably collected all kinds of ingredients, right? How about giving me a little test? You pick the ingredients and seasonings, and I turn them into a scrumptious delight [...]

Groaning at the realization, Taratglia buries his face in mortification. “Idiot…” he mutters to himself, letting out a chagrined chuckle. 

‘I must have sounded like a lovesick teenager grappling with some kind of crush.’ 

Not that he’s going to deny it. It was almost laughable how much he believed he was concealing that fact, even though he wasn’t fully aware of it. At first, he saw his attraction to the Traveler as a platonic rivalry. But even he could sense that it was gradually changing. 

‘No doubt, some if not all of the other Harbingers speculate the same thing. I definitely rambled a lot when the Traveler comes into question….Ugh, I really hope I didn’t yap like I was smitten or anythin-...’

Another embarrassed groan escaped him as one realization after another struck him in the face like a two-ton ice block. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t act on it, regardless of how he felt about her. After all, this isn’t a fictional story where everything is black and white, and pursuing such interests is forbidden. Instead, it’s more complicated for various reasons, including personal ones. Taraglia knew better than to let such feelings interfere with his own goals or hers, let alone those of the Tsaritsa. 

‘But that doesn’t mean its any less frustrating.’ 

Sighing for the nth time, despite his special day approaching this week, Tartaglia couldn’t help but wear a longing expression, wondering what his treasured comrade was up to. 

“I miss you…”

“Miss who?”

“Kurwa-!!”

**SMACK!!**

“OW!!!” 

“GLUPI!”

The sound of such a slap reverberated throughout the entire household. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the neighbors heard this. Not that this was an uncommon sight.

“Mama?!”

“Ajax, such language is not tolerated in this household! Accident or not, you should know better than to use such foul language. I expect you to correct this inappropriate behavior from you."

The front end of the slipper pointed directly at his face, emphasizing the sheer intensity of a mother.

"Do.I.Make.Myself.Clear?”

The impulsive desire to argue back like a rebellious teenager was tempting for him, but he knew better than to do that. Not only was he raised to be a gentleman, but even a deadly Harbinger like himself would shudder at the thought of further incurring a mother’s wrath. His inner childhood fear intensifies when she wields the slipper of doom, and it's even worse if she’s dual-wielding.

“Yes, mama!”

Standing tall with his arms at his sides and gazing up at the porch roof, Tartaglia instinctively shifted into basic training mode. He can’t control this habit when it comes to his mother, who is the boss of the household.

“I, Ajax, will definitely be certain to correct my language!”

Lest he not only feel the wrath of both slippers, BUT also get the…soap!

“Good. That’s my sloneckzo.”

Quick as a cicin, his mother’s demeanor changed back to her warm, loving self. Her eyes were just like his, only full of life and unbridled affection, as her hand reached up to caress the part of his head she had smacked. 

“Now then, who exactly were you missing?”

His eyes widened like the big saucers he got for his mother from Liyue. Her words echoed in his mind as his heart palpitated with each repetition. 

“Judging by your reaction, if not for your obvious cherry face, could it perhaps be… her ?”

‘She hit the nail-on the-head or…she probably just knew. I wasn’t really hiding my interest, regardless of the shape or form.’

In that moment, he could only nod, not bothering to hide it any longer as he awkwardly scratched his head. He’s too emotionally exposed to cover it up. Not that he can when in the presence of his mother. 

“Yeah…I suppose you can say that..”

Quiet enough to be a murmur, Tartaglia awkwardly avoided his mother’s gaze, focusing on anything but her. He opted for the small flurries of snowflakes descending from the grayish-blue sky. Of course, he can’t avoid her. Not when he’s like this. 

“Hmm…”

As if proving his point, her arms resting on the guardrails, joining him in viewing the flurries. Despite the smidge of tension seeping out from him, the silence between them was neither awkward nor uncomfortable—the beautiful power of a loving mother for her child. 

Minutes passed, and still not a word was spoken. Truthfully, he expected her to say something by now. If he were being honest, there were times when his mother could be quite an enigma—not always knowing what was on her mind. But somehow, she can tell what’s on his mind sometimes.

“Erm…Mam-”

“Do you wish to have a chat in the living room, sweetie?” 

“Huh?”

“Just us together. Mother and son. I can make you your favorite hot cocoa you always loved when you felt down.”

Taken aback by her sudden suggestion, Tartaglia's eyes widened as he saw his mother turn towards the door. 

“Mama…?”

“And don’t worry. It’s just us at home. You’ve been cooped up in your room for so long that everyone already went out to fish for dinner.”

Giving a little knowing wink, his mother chuckled softly as she went back inside, expecting him to follow after. Left to himself, Tartaglia let out a sigh as his shoulders dropped, a small smile formed on his face in gratitude to his mother’s thoughtfulness. 

.
.
.

Couch chairs positioned in front of the fireplace, holding two cups of hot cocoa with homemade star-shaped marshmallows, Tartaglia and his mother sat in a calm, relaxing silence. Taking small sips as they basked in the heat radiated by the fire, staring at each flicker and shimmer. 

He wasn’t sure what to say or where to begin, already guessing she had some idea of what was really happening. It's ironic how he’s usually the ‘social butterfly’ during tedious negotiations, yet he struggles to start a conversation with his mother when raw emotions are involved. What he occasionally thinks about when left to himself. 

“Mam-”

“Ajax, you don’t have to try so hard, you know?”

Taken aback by her sudden words, once again, Tartaglia was rendered speechless, unable to fathom what spurred such seriousness.

“What..?”

Setting down her cup on the small table next to her, his mother let out a sigh, gazing up at the several family pictures mounted on the wall above the fireplace. Her eyes, though warm and tender, carried a deep sadness and regret. And even he knew what that meant as his lightless eyes became shadowed in darkness. 

“Ajax, I truly regret not having been able to do more than what I could do back then. There have been many times I wish I could have done things differently to convince your father otherwise. As a mother, it was hard to see her little boy sent away.”

Her hand gently reaches over to cup his, nearly causing them to twitch.

“But part of me felt that this was something you wanted and perhaps needed to give you an added push in pursuit of your desired goals. Whenever I think back on that day and the years that followed, I have begun to come to an understanding and acceptance, especially since I can see that despite the obvious change, you are still the same Ajax .”

Never removing her hand, she squeezed his lightly, as if to reassure him of her words. But that doesn’t deter her. 

“Yes, you have become a little…for lack of a better word, unhinged. Even though you cover it up so well in front of the young ones, that doesn’t take away who you are deep down. You always think about your family, even your father, when making sure the medicine he needed arrived safely, along with other useful items for your older siblings, more specifically your older brothers.”

A small smile curves on her face as she recalls every moment of her mischievous son making every effort to return home to celebrate the holidays and engage in all household activities, especially when it comes to preparing meals for Maslenitsa—even to the point of inviting guests. Teucer was having a field day with their latest guests. 

“I have always enjoyed reading every letter you sent to us. I can tell you spent hours making sure it is perfect to your satisfaction while thinking about your younger siblings. It always warms my heart when you go above and beyond to acquire some of the bizarre souvenirs and gifts the young one asks from you.” 

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she remembered how little Ajax always proclaimed himself the best adventurer. Donning a small red cape and wielding a papier-mâché sword, his mother recalls his bold declarations about vanquishing enemies and monsters, making discoveries, and, most importantly, protecting his beloved family. Such abundant innocence and determination nearly brought a tear to her eye, which she blinked back. 

“I know that I still have had my moments, but please understand and believe me when I say this—no matter how much of a wild child you became, to the point of being perceived as problematic by your older siblings and by an unfortunate extent, your father…”

Her thumb softly rubs over his hand, taking a moment before looking at him straight in the eyes. 

”Nothing will ever change who you are. You are still my precious boy, who I am still proud of and always will be.”

As if to emphasize her sincerity, she gave his hand a little squeeze. 

“Even if the world deems otherwise, I will always believe in you.”

The urge to clench his fist was palpable, opting for his teeth instead.

‘This..this is too much…’

His bangs covered the furrowing of his brows as he mentally counted to ten. 

‘Calm down, Tartaglia.’

“Please, Mama.”

His voice was quiet, shaky, and weak. It was almost pathetic. 

Whether or not she can sense his level of distress, of which he is struggling to quell, his mother pushed further. Stubbornness was in the family blood. 

“Ajax, my sweetheart. Don’t you see?” 

Her eyes, more determined than ever to reason with him, met his avoidant ones. 

“You are still the same. Nothing has ever changed as much as you, and even your stubborn father and older brothers think otherwise. You may also think the same way as them, but don’t forget how much effort you put despite being busy–”

A scoff immediately slipped out, cutting her off for a bit. He couldn’t control that, not when it came to the topic of his father and elder brothers.

‘Please…just please stop. Don’t continue, mother.’

Alas, his prayer wasn’t met. Not when his mother was this determined and unfettered by his subtle attempts. Stubbornness truly ran in the family.

“–when seeing how much to this day, despite all that has happened, you still show your love, care, and devotion for your family.”

“Przestań...”

Such fragility…It was unbecoming of who he is now. A weapon. A tool for war. Someone intending to be powerful enough to crush the thrones of unrelenting gods above, making them kneel under his heel. He was better than this!

Tartaglia was genuinely trying to quell the beast within. The last thing he wanted was to let it out at his home, of all places, let alone in front of his very mother! Taking small, deep breaths, he tried to regain his sense of self.

“Mother…”

She flinched a little, noting the seriousness of his tone and shaky breaths. She remained firm but attentive, never letting go of his hand, caressing with both of hers. He thanked her for at least catching on to his distress. But not for being so damn headstrong at a time like this. 

“Mother, I…I understand where you're going with this. But you shouldn’t keep clinging on to such hopes and…delusions.”

He can hear that small gasp she made. Rejecting such pure emotions…to him, he wasn’t worthy of them—not anymore.  

“I do appreciate all you do to maintain the strings that bind us all together and see the good in everything. But let’s be real. There are times when everything isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. You know how on edge they are around me. Anytime I arrive with that bright, silly, goofy smile on my face, all for the young ones who are nothing but pure, free-spirited children— they look at me as if to ensure I am behaving .” 

She couldn’t retort, her hold loosening a bit. That much about the wariness was indeed a fact. A sad one. He knew how much she was trying to solidify the balance. 

But to him, some things just can’t be repaired, even with countless years of effort to make up for what has been shattered, if not cracked.

Just like him.

“I know you mean every word, Mama. I am always forever grateful for your love and nurturing, but just…stop. Don’t bother yourself to put in such efforts with me anymore. It’s…better to provide that to Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer. I….I will do everything in my power to protect their innocence, but mine…was long gone.” 

“Aja-”

“Even if it’s just another addition to the collection of my many masks that I carry under my belt, I will still retain…and mimic…as much of the ‘ Ajax ’ everyone knew…and loved…as much as I realistically can manage.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, his face contorting in self-mockery.

“Even if it gets draining every time I have to put up and wave off the indirect, back-handed comments when the kids aren’t around.”

He felt as though he was drowning again, losing his senses the further he continued down this spiraling depth he plunged himself into.

“But at the end of the day, it’s all that’s needed to maintain some level of semblance of the family we all had.”

‘Stop. Don’t continue. You don’t truly mean this.’

“Despite the truth we all knew…” 

He can’t stop himself—even when the little voice in his head kept blaring warning bells for a cease-and-desist. He can’t control the ongoing whispers that the darkness of his psyche conjured. 

“...and no one can ever refute…”

He needs to do so before he’s going to say the one thing that will bring him infinite regret. 

“ ‘ ...that Ajax’ …is gon-”

“PRZESTAŃ!!”

A low screech against the wooden flooring snapped him out of his dark reverie–panic setting in as he slowly realized what just happened. 

‘D-did she just…do that to the wooden flooring that she forbade us to ever damage? Even so much as to leave a single scratch!?’

He could not even think or act quickly enough. The shock from having seen his mother immediately push her chair back, creating one of the most horrifying screeches he’s ever heard.

“...”

It became eerily quiet, tension very high. If Taraglia was going to be honest, he was actually scared enough to consider formulating an escape plan. But he can’t. Not when it’s his mother standing before him…in a terrifying silence.. 

Taking in a small gulp, Tartaglia opened his mouth, about to say something.

“Um…M-Ma..m–”

But he was rendered silent immediately, as he expected.

** SLAP **

The sound echoed louder than the slipper or the chair, leaving a bright red mark across his cheek as his face turned the other way. He knew this was going to upset her, putting it lightly. 

Aside from the younger siblings, who knew little to nothing, everyone was heartbroken that he was no longer the ‘Ajax’ they had known. Some of which started growing tired of dealing with the ‘monster’ he had become instead. He couldn’t fault any lingering resentment. 

Sensing his stubbornness in clinging to such dark thoughts, his mother made him turn his face back to look right at her, not giving him any chance to refuse. As soon as their eyes met, he could see the hurt she carried. She was heartbroken, but for a different reason. And he knew that, especially since he was the one who caused it.

“....”

Furrowing her brows, she sighs before immediately pulling him towards her, cradling his head in her arms.

“You foolish son…You are just utterly foolish…”

Her voice cracks and wavers, tightening her hold on him as if fearing she’s going to lose her son completely. 

“Mama…?”

Her sniffles were all he could hear. She held him tighter, caressing his head like she always used to do when he was his anxious, timid self. Always ready to console him at a moment’s notice. 

“Ajax…my beloved-yet-stupid son. You need to stop such bad habits. No matter what has happened in those three days to make such a change, it will never take away who you truly are. It doesn’t matter to me what others think, even if you doubt me for that. You ARE Ajax. You are just refusing to accept that.”

Loosening her hold, she made him look up once more before letting their foreheads touch. It was another act of comfort his mother always performed when he was younger, especially after his three months in the Abyss. It never mattered how much older he became with age. Deep down, the little boy inside of him wanted to continue being coddled by his lifeline, who had helped keep his sanity in check all these years since then.

And so, he does. He allowed himself to lean into his mother’s embrace, allowing himself this rare moment of vulnerability and silent acceptance. This brought relief to his mother’s heart, knowing that she was right; that her little boy, who always clung to her, was still there. If only he’d just embrace who he was then and who he is now. The same person. 

“Ajax, robaczku, always remember this.” 

Resolute and unwavering, she continued to make sure he’d properly listen this time. 

“Even if others don’t see it, to the point of slandering or painting false images of you, never forget to continue being yourself. You know who you are. Who you have always been. Whether it takes my entire lifetime to convince you, or even the very one who has captured your heart…”

He couldn’t deny how that nearly made his heart skip, knowing who she was referring to. The familiar glint in his mother’s eyes practically confirmed that. 

“I guess…if there is someone who can truly convince you that you are Ajax and can continue living as the Ajax you always have been, even with the changes that built you to who you are now, it’s her .”