Huffing, Kaeya held an ice pack wrapped in a thin cloth to the back of Elizabeth's head.
"I didn't realize you were right next to the door," he spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice, "I'm sorry."
Elizabeth folded her arms and turned her head away from him, huffing herself. Kaeya guessed it was fair; after all, he probably would've done the same thing at her age.
"It was an accident," he pleaded, but the girl kept her nose pointed high in the air.
Just so long as she knows, Kaeya rolled his eyes.
From the table, Childe rested his head in his hand, "C'mon, Lizzie, don't you want to finish your dinner? It's cold again."
"I'll reheat it myself," she sassed. Childe, on the other hand, let his mind wander to the utility bill they would pay that month. He already reheated everyone's dinner once already. She didn't have much left on her plate, but nonetheless, it was a considerable amount to go to waste.
Looking solemnly at the plate, the girl came to the same conclusion. She resigned, "I'll finish it later."
Michael clicked his tongue, "Liz, you're being dramatic. Your head is fine, just eat the food."
"I heard that it's bad to eat right after a concussion," she said snootily.
"You don't have a concussion!" her older brother replied, rubbing his temples.
"Says you!"
He groaned at her ineffective comeback, but dropped the topic anyway. There was no point in reasoning with the unreasonable.
"We can leave it alone for now," Childe smiled in a hushed voice to the boys sitting at the table with him, "How was your guys' days? Besides getting yelled at by Kaeya."
"I would've said scary, but besides Kaeya..." Evan tapped his chin as he looked back at Childe, "Boring."
"You wouldn't be so bored if you came out of my room more often," he joked, ruffling the boy's hair.
Swatting away Childe's hands, Evan giggled, "No! Your hands are greasy!"
"What? Not true!" the man feigned offense as he brought his hand to his heart, "I can't believe you would assume such things!"
"Stop!" Evan whined, still giggling. Michael pursed his lips at the sound.
"I am so hurt," Childe sniffed, wiping a fake tear.
"No, you're not," Evan folded his arms.
"I'm not," he smiled back at the boy, "Good job on catching me, little rascal."
As the boy's laughter died down, Childe looked towards Michael, who was silently pushing the food around his plate. He took a minuscule bite, forcing it down his throat.
"What about you, Mike?" Childe asked, "What's new?"
He stared at the man for a second, then averted his gaze back down to the food, "The usual, I guess. Trained with Diluc, went to the town. Got called a slur again—"
"What?!" Elizabeth shrieked, pulling her head away from the ice pack. In normal circumstances, Kaeya would have been annoyed, but he was more intrigued in Michael's words at the moment.
"It's not a big deal," Michael spoke through his teeth, glaring pointedly at his sister.
"Yeah, actually, it kind of is," Childe urged, "What happened?"
Michael looked down at the skin on his arms. For as long as he could remember, his skin was a few shade darker than his siblings. Nothing too extreme, but enough that it made him stand out. He received that gift from his mother, a Venezuelan woman. The light patches on his skin made that gift even more apparent and brought him all kinds of attention; in fact, he figured that Childe and Kaeya may have been the only people in the world to never mention it.
"Nothing, just—" he sighed, "When I went down to the market after training with Diluc, I ran into this group of boys. First, they asked me why I looked 'that way'. That's when I should've punched them, but I wasn't in the mood to start anything, so I just told them I have vitiligo."
"I have vitiligo, jackarses. Read a book or something for once."
"I was pretty nice about it, too," he declared, "But, when they turned to leave, I heard one of them say 'spic' under his breath. So I punched him. And then I punched the other two guys, just for good measure."
"Atta' boy," Kaeya nodded.
"People are such jerks!" Elizabeth smacked her hands down on the couch, "I can't believe they would say that to you!"
Michael shrugged, "Yeah, well, get over it. Everyone hates everyone and whatever whatever. Move on."
She growled, "No, I won't move on! I'll find a way to get them to not be jerks, you'll see!"
"I appreciate the concern, but I don't need someone to protect me," he pushed his chair out from the table, his eyebrow twitching, "Especially not you."
As Michael sulkily retreated back to Kaeya's room, Elizabeth's mouth hung wide open. He locked the door with a snarky 'click', snapping the girl out of her trance. She shook off the surprise, tuning into whatever Evan was saying.
"...such a butthole."
"Cut him some slack," Kaeya interjected, moving to put the melted ice pack on the table, "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of him either, but he's living a different life than you."
Evan glanced up at the man's face; he was standing just against Evan's seat, one hand on the table. The boy looked down again to where the side of his hand brushed up against Kaeya's. The more he stared, the more different he realized they looked.
It was true that Evan and Elizabeth adorned the fair skin tone of their father, and Michael did not, but Evan never cared to see the difference. He always saw just "Michael". Perhaps, though, that was because he never needed to notice. Perhaps he never understood the conversations his mother had with Michael when he would come home from school upset. Before she...
"Hey, don't stare at my scars," Kaeya teased, pulling his hand away, "Didn't anyone ever tell you that's rude?"
"Oh. Sorry," Evan replied nonchalantly, glancing at the pink flesh on his otherwise tan skin.
Childe rolled his eyes, standing up to take the empty plates from the table, "Don't listen to him, he's just joking."
With a sly smirk on his face, Kaeya followed the man into the kitchen. Elizabeth watched as they rounded the corner and Kaeya wrapped his arms around the back of Childe's waist. He whispered something into his ear (what she could only guess was a pathetic pick-up line), and as laughter bloomed through the household, Elizabeth waved her little brother over. He hopped off of his chair and burrowed into the opposite arm of the couch.
"I'm going to Michael's next training lesson," she spoke softly.
"What? Why?" Evan raised an eyebrow.
His sister quickly shushed him, "He needs someone to protect him."
"No he doesn't, he's thirteen!"
"He's always needed someone to protect him! You've seen how brash he is!"
Evan frowned, "He's not gonna want you to, y'know."
"I know. But without Mum, who else will?"
The two siblings looked at each other, an uncomfortable agreement between them; Father wasn't going to, Mum was gone, and Uncle Henry wouldn't understand. Evan scooted himself to where Elizabeth was sitting and nestled into her shoulder.
"You don't have to," he urged.
"I want to," she replied, putting her arm around him, "I'm almost eleven now. It's time to start growing up."
The phrase seemed almost ironic, in a way.
***
Late that night, as Elizabeth and Evan shuffled around in Childe's room, Childe waltzed through the living room.
"So..." he began, watching his boyfriend sharpen his sword across from him, "We're alone."
"It does seem that way," Kaeya smirked, swinging the weapon in his hand, "What, would you like to challenge me in a spar?"
Childe gripped the sword, pushing it down, "Not exactly. I was thinking, maybe...a different type of spar."
"Oh?" he snickered, "Well, why don't we take this somewhere else, no?"
"What's the giggling for?" Childe asked as Kaeya pulled him along to his room.
"Your hand is bleeding."
"I know," he replied in a sultry manner.
Rolling his eyes, Kaeya stopped just before his bedroom door, confused by the fact that it was closed. He usually left it open a crack, so it wouldn't be hot when he returned home from a long day of battles. So why was it closed?
"Oh. Michael, right?" his boyfriend asked as they came to a stop.
"Right," he sighed in annoyance, "I'd almost forgotten."
Childe leaned against the wall next to the door, "We do have a couch, y'know."
"Right again, sparky. I'll join you over there in a second, let me just change into something a bit more...breathable, per say," he teased.
The ginger's eyes seemed to light up into hearts. He ran back to the couch giddily, "Don't make me wait too long, please!"
Smiling, Kaeya scoffed, "I'll be right back."
He opened the door to his room, and just as he suspected, was met with a cloud of heat. He fanned his face, scanning the room for the intruder. The boy was laying on the bed, face turned towards the wall.
"Archons, it's awful in here," Kaeya muttered under his breath, to himself more than anything.
"I like it warm," Michael replied, his eyes still closed. Kaeya jumped, not expecting the teen to be awake.
"Well," he exhaled, a hand on his heart, "I prefer the cold."
"Mhm."
Kaeya walked over to his closet, scanning the various items, "So, what've you been up to in here? Messing with my stuff?"
"I was trying to sleep," the teen sassed.
He scoffed, "Then why aren't you?"
Michael opened his eyes and blinked at the wall, "Because you're here."
With a huff, Kaeya turned his back to the boy and let his scarf slide to the floor. As he unclipped the collar of his cropped jacket, he gazed into the mirror on the wall, looking between himself and Michael. It was eerie how much like Diluc he was; talking to Michael was like talking to a caricature of his kid brother, with a distinct accent to remind him that Diluc was grown up, and at that, older than Kaeya was.
Michael glanced at him through the corner of his eye, his face immediately contorting into an expression of horror as he shielded his eyes with his hands.
"What are you doing?!" he shrieked.
Kaeya raised an eyebrow, "I'm just changing clothes."
"Do it somewhere else, I don't wanna see that shit!"
"Then go live somewhere else, why don't you?" he retorted, "Oh, that's right, you can't."
Michael let out a loud groan, turning his face into the pillow, "No wonder your brother hates you."
"He does not hate me," Kaeya began, but upon hearing the teen's snarky laugh, he irritably gave in, "Okay, fine, he hates me."
"Maybe he hates us 'cause of our skin," Michael spoke matter-of-factly.
Pausing his inspection of his figure in the mirror, Kaeya laughed heartily. Annoyed, Michael shot up from the pillow, glaring as flipped to face the man, "What's so funny?"
Wiping a tear, Kaeya recollected himself, placing his corset neatly on a hanger, "It's funny, hearing that sentence about your estranged brother."
The teen blushed, embarrassed by the comment. He turned to lean against the wall and crossed his arms.
Kaeya sighed, speaking almost robotically, "I'm sorry. Why do you think he hates you?"
"Put on a shirt, old man," Michael gagged.
"Hey, I am not old."
"Your wrinkles say otherwise."
"Are you going to answer me or what?"
Michael pursed his lips as the man threw a loose t-shirt over his head, "I don't know. Just a hunch, I guess."
"Well," Kaeya exhaled, smoothing his shirt out, "I can assure you he doesn't hate you. Diluc doesn't put on the best impression, but if he really hated you, then he wouldn't be helping you. Trust me, I would know. And I can also assure you that he doesn't hate me because of the color of my skin. Some people are the rodents of this world in a reincarnated form, but he's not one of them."
The teen averted his gaze to the ceiling, seemingly not satisfied with the answer. Kaeya bit the inside of his cheek, huffing before reluctantly sitting down next to Michael.
"I'm sorry you had an encounter with those people today," he leaned on his knees, sitting on the edge of the bed, "But, if it's any consolation, I think you handled it well. When I was your age, I probably would've been too scared to stand up for myself like that."
"Too scared?" the teen raised an eyebrow, "You don't have to lie to make me feel better, Kaeya."
He snickered, "I'm serious! What, you don't believe me?"
"Uh, no. Sorry."
"Alright," Kaeya tapped his chin, "Well, just remember that I grew up as one of the only dark-skinned people in Mondstadt. I heard the phrase 'if you were white' a lot. That's not much of a confidence booster at thirteen."
Michael crossed his arms, "I don't get it. Why does everyone want us to be something we're not? Why don't they focus on their own shitty lives instead of commenting on ours?"
"That's just how some people are. They were raised to think that they're superior for something they couldn't choose or change in the first place," Kaeya shook his head, "It's silly, really."
Sighing, the teen rested his chin in his hand, "I feel like a piece of shit admitting this, but I still haven't decided if having vitiligo is a good thing or a bad thing. I always wanted to be white...I remember hating the universe for making me look like my mom, not white like my siblings. I thought they were lucky. But now, it just feels like I'm giving in. They won. The thing they hated about me is leaving me, and I can't do anything to retaliate. Not to mention, I'm losing the last piece of my mother I have. Except for Lizzie, I guess, girl looks just like her...well, minus the skin, obviously..."
"The last piece of her?" Kaeya turned to glance at the teen.
"I—uh—" he shook off the surprise, glaring at Kaeya instead, "What happened between you and Diluc?"
The question was clearly meant to be snarky response, but still, Kaeya answered with a cold chuckle, "I can't say."
Michael shrugged, "I'll just ask Diluc tomorrow, then."
"No! No—" Kaeya grumbled, rubbing his forehead, "No need to do that."
"Then what happened?"
"Archons, Mike," he rolled his eyes.
"Tell me! What did you do that was so horrible? Did you take off your shirt in front of him, too?"
The man glared at the teen, an unamused expression etched into his face, "No, I did not. How are you so sure it was me who was in the wrong, anyway?"
"Seems like you mess up everything you touch," Michael mumbled. After the words left his mouth, he felt a bit guilty, but he stared forward at the wall to mask the emotion.
Kaeya, on the other hand, was almost stunned for a moment. He scratched his neck, another cold chuckle leaving his lungs, "Yeah. You could say that."
"So? Are you going to answer me or what?" Michael mimicked him.
The man opened his mouth to speak, but faltered. Then, he sighed, and Michael watched as his walls crumbled.
"Fine. I suppose it's a fair exchange," Kaeya glared forward, "I lied to him. And before he figured that out, I was too late."
"Too late to what?" Michael asked.
"Ah-ah, kid. That's all you're getting from me," he smirked tiredly.
The teen clicked his teeth, "Fine, whatever. It's not like I care, anyway."
"My sincerest apologies," Kaeya teased as he lifted himself up from the bed, ruffling Michael's hair to annoy him.
"Hey, quit it!"
The man snickered as he walked towards the door, "Don't forget, kid, I'm rooting for you. You might not want to admit it, but you're just like me. We're the only few people here that understand each other."
"You're just saying that to annoy me," Michael glared.
"Maybe," Kaeya slipped around the door, and before closing it shut, he called, "Goodnight!"
Alone, Michael rolled his eyes as he blew out the candle on the nightstand next to him and flopped down to sleep. Meanwhile, Kaeya stood against the door, his smile faded. He clenched his fists against the door and shut his eyes tight:
It's not like me to ask for help after what you did to my people. But, if you make your way down to the tavern tonight...help me make things right with Diluc. I feel like a child not knowing what else to do. Besides...
"Kaeya? Why are you just standing there?" Childe interrupted him, staring at the man from the couch.
"Just one second, my love," he spoke without thinking. The words made Childe's cheeks burn and he melted. He had only a few moments to relish the feeling before the man himself was sitting on top of his chest.
"Umph!"
"Come on, I'm not that heavy," Kaeya smirked.
"You're lucky you're pretty," Childe grinned back.
Kaeya pinched the man's nose as he kissed his lips. Breathing through his mouth, Childe was trying to say some dorky pick-up line that he was half listening to, more interested by the nasally sound of the younger man's voice.
Perhaps he didn't need any more than this.