Remember Me at Summer's End [ZhongChi/TartaLi]

Chapter 5 - Ousted

17th Day, 8th Month

Childe leans on the railing overlooking the docks. He holds a note in his hand, although his focus is on the seabirds soaring overhead, specks of white against brilliant blue sky. He counts — one, two, three — a failure of an attempt to distract himself from the words on the page.

Two weeks.

He has two weeks remaining in Liyue.

A massive sent in confidence — I have reason to believe Scaramouche has gone rogue. You will depart for Inazuma to observe his activities and retrieve what is ours. A ship will arrive within the fortnight — and his work whisks him away from Liyue once again.

A part of him buzzes in anticipation. If Scaramouche has truly betrayed the Fatui, it's down to Childe to bring him to heel. Scaramouche has never been one to cooperate and Childe is more than ready for the fight to come.

When he defeats Scaramouche, drags him victoriously back to Zapolyarny Palace, his strength will be undeniable. Perhaps Capitano will finally look at him, finally agree to a spar between them.

Ah, what a glorious opportunity Her Majesty grants him.

Despite this, another part of him worries.

While Zhongli said that another day would be of no detriment to his condition, a nagging thought lingers at the back of Childe's mind.

Perhaps it's the way Zhongli awoke with a jolt that morning, stiff and tense as he pushed away from Childe. It took a moment before he caught his bearings, and he smiled and bid Childe a good morning as though nothing were amiss. Or perhaps it's the way Zhongli stared at the kitchen calendar as he waited for the water for his tea to boil, tracing the crossed off days with his finger, flicking the pages back and forth between the months.

Perhaps it's the way that when Childe had lingered on the doorstep before leaving that morning, fingers curled around Zhongli's sleeve as he said, "See you later, xiansheng. Love you... you remember that, alright?", instead of responding in kind, Zhongli had said, "Thank you, Childe. I appreciate the sentiment."

Two weeks.

He has two weeks to fix Zhongli.

Correction: The adepti have two weeks to fix Zhongli.

His job is to take Zhongli to them tomorrow. It's frustrating to admit, but it's all he can do.

Childe likes to be the one in control. Be it on the battlefield or pulling the strings to manipulate the actors playing the part in some Fatui scheme, he ensures he controls the current situation, has a clear expectation of how future events will progress, and a back up plan in case they don't.

To have control is to have power, to have power is to triumph, and to triumph is to be unconquerable.

Now he relies on a group of ancient beings he's never met, and who have no reason to extend a single drop of kindness toward him. If the subject of his conundrum was anyone but Zhongli, they'd turn him away without a second thought.

In this situation, his only use is to serve as a glorified escort.

He crumples the letter in hand and scuffs his foot against the pavement, sending a scattering of pebbles tumbling over the edge. They clatter on the walkway below, bouncing across the wood before they come to settle haphazardly.

Childe's life is like one of those pebbles, sent spiralling out of control not by a boot upon the pavement, but by the inevitable march of time, an unstoppable force of nature that is hopeless for any human to attempt to resist.