"Psst."
On the ground below, the boy and his companion both jump. So startled to hear a third voice, they both freeze for a moment.
"Up here." Your voice, a child's voice, directs his golden gaze upward.
You shimmy out onto a branch so that you can see him better, gazing down from among the boughs in the muted light of early morning. You straddle the branch like you're riding a horse, lying forward with your cheek pressed against the rough bark. The boy's expression clouds with worry; you guess that it might look scary, you dangling from a tree, but you know this trunk as well as you know your own body. Better, maybe.
"That's a weird bird." Your delighted giggle rustles down towards him.
"Paimon is not a bird!"
"It talked!"
The boy leans against the tree, his frame tensed to catch you, as though anticipating that you'll tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs at any moment. "What are you doing up there?"
Your brow pleats; for a moment, the answer eludes you like water slipping through your open fingers, but then the spine of your notebook digs into your hip, and you remove it from your pocket, flipping through the pages until you see your untidy scrawl on the pages dated today. "Playing."
"Where are your parents?"
Your shoulders dip and your eyes focus on the ground; your grip around your notebook tightens. Try as you might, you can remember few details about your mother or father, and trying to summon details about them from the depths of your mind leaves you with a pulsating headache. "Dunno."
"Aether?" A girl's solemn voice calls from the house. "Is that you? Who are you talking to?"
"There's a child here, up in a tree –"
Quickly, your notebook is tucked away, out of sight once again. Your first instinct is to scramble higher, to blend in with the leaves and branches, but you notice fiery, burnished curls in the throng of unfamiliar people leaving the manor, and your face lights up into a smile, big and bright like the beam of a lantern. Shimmying down the tree, you run up the steps in quick strides, throwing yourself into Diluc's arms, and latching onto his waist with your tiny but manacle-strong arms. He inhales, quick and sharp, but the surprise melts, gives way to nothing but love when he catches and holds you in his arms.
You ping-pong your gaze between the people with him, squirming a little in discomfort at how intently they seem to be staring at you. You stick out your tongue childishly in response. "Diluc, Diluc, Diluc, who're they?"
The hard edges and plains of his face softens as it always does when he looks at you. He runs gloved fingers through your hair, smoothing out tangled strands and plucking out leafy debris. "Did you check your notebook?"
"Oh." Dutifully, you pull it out once again, reluctantly untangling yourself from Diluc in the process. You hold the pages up for him to see. "Nuh-uh, they aren't in there."
Taking the notebook from your hands, Diluc flips through the book, stopping when he comes to a bookmark tucked in between the pages. "Jean is. See?"
"Oh. Uh-huh. And that one –"
"Venti. He's a bard. He makes music."
"Oh. Okay!" Your questions answered, you turn your attention to the blond traveler, his face pale and almost pained as he takes you and Diluc in. "Look, Diluc, look, look! I made a new friend today!"
Endlessly patient, Diluc nods, "I saw."
Paimon pipes up then. "Who's that?"
"She's my little sister."
"He's my big brother!"
You and Diluc proclaim at the same time; but where your tone is filled with bright cheer, there's a protective note to Diluc's voice as he hefts you up into his arms, resting you upon his hip. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, your smile a stamp against his skin. You're a little too big to be carried now, but Diluc's never been able to deny you anything, and you've quickly learned that he's weak in the face of your oversized eyes.
Quietly, Aether watches the two siblings, wrapped up in a world entirely of their own. Diluc embraces you, treating you with love and care as he ushers you back towards the house. His composure cracks, revealing a visage of dark tragedy. He looks away.
Deep in Aether's chest, in the pit of his stomach, something aches.
