Liyue Harbour was beautiful at night. The soft orange glow of lanterns lit the empty streets like stars reflecting on the surface of a lake. Calm waves hit the wooden posts of the many docks.
Childe admired the beauty of it all from a hill overlooking the wharf. The salty air clung to his cheeks, a subtle reminder he still needed to buy more moisturizer. He gazed upon the unlit windows, envying the sleeping citizens. He kept his hands in his pockets, fiddling with a piece of paper.
He'd never stopped to look at Liyue like that before. It was underwhelming. Zhongli had gone on about the beauty of his land for almost as long as they'd known each other. Experiencing it the way he'd recommended just wasn't doing it for him.
"Hey."
He spun on his heels, greeting Aether with a grin, "Hey."
He moved aside to make room for him. Aether didn't join him.
"We're uh," he looked at his feet, "we're ready for you."
The paper crinkled between his fingers.
"Of course. Lead the way."
It wasn't a short walk. He almost felt bad for making Aether go all that way to find him. By the time they reached the Geo Statue, he could hardly feel his legs.
Right. Geo Statue.
It was another thing Childe had failed to appreciate prior to that day. He had to fight the rising corners of his cheeks. He'd touched those very same abs.
Paimon floated over to join them, completing the funeral trio. Hu Tao was noticeably missing, though Childe assumed that was no accident. They'd agreed on no formal funerals. Zhongli would rest with whatever the three of them put together.
Childe was used to funerals. Often, he'd write speeches for late Fatui members. Fallen comrades were part of the job, it was best not to get hung up over it.
But not getting hung up over it did nothing for those people's families.
The first time he'd given a speech at a funeral, it was impersonal. He'd hardly known the guy, but his entire unit had died, there was no one to do it. He walked onto that stage with cue cards that could describe any of the Fatui's agents. Sitting in the front, next to the blank face of the guy's mother, was a young boy.
After the ceremony was finished, the boy approached him, clutching a stuffed bird.
"You knew my brother?" he asked.
Childe had nodded, "He was a good guy."
The boy thought for a moment, before handing him the bird.
"He likes birds, I wish you'd talked about birds in your speech."
He turned the bird over in his hand, "Between you and me kid, he would be very happy to hear you say that."
His face lit up, "Really? Did he talk about me?"
"He said you would grow up to be a great guy."
The boy threw his hands around Childe's legs, "Thank you sir."
"Of course buddy."
He held the stuffed bird back out to the boy, but he refused it.
"Ducks were his favourite. You're his best friend right? He'd want you to have it."
He didn't have the heart to decline.
Standing before the Geo statue, he pulled the crumpled cue card from his pocket. He blinked a few times, breathed in, and gave his speech.
"If there's one thing to say about Zhongli, it's that he really liked rocks..."
He slipped into a trance-like state, speaking without paying much attention to what he was saying. He looked past Aether and Paimon, occasionally glancing down at the card to feign the motions he was supposed to be going through.
Quite suddenly, reality came back to him. He'd stopped speaking.
Aether's eyes burned into his, teary and surprised. Paimon had nuzzled herself into his chest, and wailed as though she'd just witnessed Zhongli's death with her own eyes.
"I," Aether's voice cracked, and he grabbed a tissue from the box Paimon clutched to dab at the corner of his eye, "I didn't realize he meant that much to you."
"I didn't either," he admitted.
The morning came all too soon. The rising sun hit his skin as the rest of the world grew around him. Trees that used to simply exist now towered. The force of it all nearly toppled him.
He found himself wandering one of the many ruined villages of Liyue. The crumbling buildings gave him no shelter from the exposing light. He squatted behind a wall, covering his midriff with his arms in an attempt to hide. Hanging out of his lazily tossed bag was a stuffed duck.
He wondered if Zhongli had picked a spot similar to the one he was in now.
That was the thing, he'd chosen to go. It wasn't a tragic accident, a fatal wound, or a necessary sacrifice, it was a choice. Zhongli had looked death in the eyes, shaken it's hand, and kissed it with parted lips. He'd chosen to leave him behind. He'd chosen to stop existing.
Childe raised a hand to his lips, wondering if death knew how lucky it was.
He rested his chin into that hand, swallowing down the tight ball that threatened to explode in his throat.
He'd chosen to leave him.
He'd chosen to leave him.
He'd chosen to leave him.
"Damn it," he whispered, closing his eyes. His shoulders shook with a few silent sobs, before his chest tore and left his heart open for anybody to stomp on.
It was pitiful. He was pitiful.
He couldn't move. Each breath pounded into the bottom of his lungs, beating him from the inside. His eyes squeezed tighter, tears forcing their way through. They were few and far between, and burned as they rolled down his cheeks. All the while, he clutched that dirty stuffed duck.
He stayed in that position for a long time. Even when he found he could wiggle his toes again, he couldn't muster the energy to move. That might've been for the best anyway.
He couldn't quite find a reason to keep going yet, so he did not get up.