Ajax sighed through his nose. "If the Tsaritsa should ask me of it... then it would be an order I would follow. I must do my part for Her Majesty and for Snezhnaya." And a just as honest and simple answer.

There was a pause. The cold truth settled over my being. But the acceptance was colder. I was calm as it became clear to me who he would choose. Part of me wanted to resent him for it—to hate him for tossing himself away like that. But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I knew he was worth so much more than how he treated himself.

His knees suddenly buckled and I lunged for him without a thought—only pure instinct. Before I could even touch him, however, he had already steadied himself. I looked him over, assessing him, before demanding, "What the heck was that?"

"I'm just... a little tired."

I pursed my lips, withholding my retort, my hands hovering just beside his arms. His unnaturally pale arms. I observed his body again. His skin was... so so pale. Everything about him felt drained. "Ajax..." I whispered.

"I'm fine," he insisted, though he was clearly anything but.

"Aj—"

"I said I'm fine." He stalked past me. "I'm... I need to get home. Mother asked me to come home for dinner."

I remained still, only watching him, my friend, walk away. From me. Avoiding me... Even if his reasons were real, the undeniable truth remained clear. A shuddering breath threatened to escape but I held it in. I would be strong. Even as my hand became restless by my side, wanting to grab him and pull him back. Even as my stomach was tightening in knots as my feelings begged to be put into words.

He stopped and turned, a cold hard stare thrown in my direction. And I knew then. I was... an obstacle. His childhood friend... no more than a roadblock. I swallowed. But those dull eyes softened as he said, "It was nice to see you again." For what perhaps may have been the final time. I shoved that thought away. I refused. I refused. It would not be the last time. Never. No...

He resumed his walk, leaving me alone on the street. But he stumbled. I saw it—clear as the bright speckled stars that were beginning to blink to life. Though he tried to hide it by casually leaning on the wall, I could see it in the way his chest rose and fell. He was more than just a little tired.

I was instantly by his side, a worried expression on my face. I hated it. More than anything, I hated how I couldn't let go of my childhood friend, despite how clear he had made it that he needed to move on.  And when I was so thoroughly against his use of life-threatening techniques... It was no wonder he wanted me away.

And yet I still refused to abandon him. To abandon our friendship... To abandon... the feelings I had... It was no secret to myself. I had uncovered them years ago. When, exactly, I didn't remember, but to me, it didn't matter. Because no matter what, I still loved him. And every part of my being screamed at me to deny the truth he had presented—to follow him anyway, anywhere and everywhere. Because I was as stubborn as I was nice. I could not let him walk away from me like that—injured and yet still ready to fight. To battle until he was no more than ashes on the wind.

"You need somewhere to rest," I murmured, reaching for him.

He gripped my arm before I could so much as touch him, a simmering anger in his eyes—the first signs of the world that lay behind his own mask. And I remembered just who he really was. He wasn't a pretty boy who I had grown up alongside with. He was a Fatui Harbinger—fully capable of scaring the wits out of people, even if he didn't mean it. "Look, you need to leave me alone."

I yanked my arm out of his hand. "I'll do what I want to, Tartaglia." He stiffened. I hadn't used that name before—ever—even when he begged me to. A breath shuddered out of me as I calmed myself. "My house is—"

"—Too far," he finished for me. Just watching the way he stood, the way he gripped the wall to keep his feet from failing under him... He wouldn't make it. Perhaps all he needed was rest—but he needed it now. "It's across town." Right... "I'll be fine on my own."

"No, you won't!" He stilled at my sudden flare of anger—but I would not back down. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop—this! This whole throwing away your life thing!" I threw my arms in the air, my gaze lifting to meet those increasingly dulled eyes. "I'm not opposed to you joining the Fatui. I will always support you but—but this is too much!"

"I am the Tsaritsa's weapon of war first and foremost." My heart sank at those words—at the steadfast worldview this young man held even after I had pushed and pleaded. Even now, he still said those things. Even as he died right in front of me.

"You are so much more than that..." I said softly, but not weakly. Yes... he was more—to me. Part of me was jealous of the Tsaritsa despite all she had done for our nation, for there was not a single thing he wouldn't do for her. And sometimes, I wished he would do the same for me—listen to me, accept my advice. For I would plead and I would beg just to see him ok. And though he might listen, he would still throw it all away with one word from Her Majesty. A part of me—buried deep beneath my admiration and awe—hated her for it.

My gaze dropped from his face, unable to keep looking at his pale complexion with those thoughts in my head, settling on his hand that was relaxed by his side. Slowly, hesitantly, I reached for it, and when I took hold of it, rubbing my thumb over the back of his hand, he didn't object. It was cold against my warm fingers and I closed my eyes, blocking out the rest of the world until it was just his touch.

".. What is it you see in me, Y/n?" The question caught me off guard, but I didn't show any surprise beyond my slightly widened eyes as I looked at him once more.

"What?" I asked quietly.

He looked tired as he repeated, "What is it you see in me?" His gaze lifted to the cloudless sky, darkening with every minute that passed. "If you believe that I crave the battlefield more than I crave you, then I'm not worth it."

I only blinked at that—at the confession. He knew that I loved him. I supposed that was obvious. But to hear those feelings reciprocated... "I could ask you the same question," I replied with an equally as soft tone. His brows lifted, awaiting further explanation. "I'm stubborn," I added. "Angry as much as I am soft. Overprotective. A disgrace—a dirty spot on the Tsaritsa's legacy and her nation." My shoulders sagged. "How have you been able to put up with me for so long?"

He smiled at that, brushing his calloused thumb against my cheek. "Those are among the many reasons I love you." I refused to let a blush spread on my cheeks at those words—at the genuine affection he let show. "And you are not a disgrace. Such tenacity could never tarnish Her Majesty's resolve. In fact, I dare say it is in accordance with her will."

"You... you mean that?"

He chuckled lightly as he nodded, the sunlight gilding his face. "I'm sorry..." he said finally. "For the worry I cause you."

In response, my grip on his hand only tightened, accompanied by a slight nod of acceptance. His gaze dropped to the ground again as he thought to himself. He sucked in a breath. And before he could change his mind, he gently pulled me forward by our intertwined hands and pressed his lips against mine, his hand caressing the back of my head, fingers running through my hair. The action surprised me but I let him, kissing him back. I never realised how much I had waited and longed for this moment.

When he pulled away, casting that dull blue-eyed gaze onto me, I wanted to pull him back—to kiss, to hug, to comfort, to anything—but he just smiled at me with an emotion I had never seen present on his face before. It was something more... wholesome... And I realised I hadn't seen this side of him since he disappeared when he was fourteen. "Ajax..."

"Thank yo—" he began, but was cut off with a wince.

I lunged for him, steadying him. "Ajax!"

"I'm fine... I—I'm fine." He massaged his temple, eyes closed tightly as if to shut out the agonising pain.

"How many times did you use Foul Legacy?"

"Twice."

"By the Tsaritsa, Ajax..." I said, draping one of his arms over my shoulder.

He merely chuckled again—though I found it hard to find any humour in the situation. "You really are protective," he said and I scowled.

"I'll drop you onto the pavement."

This time, he had the good sense to sound nervous when he laughed, before clearing his throat. I guided him to a nearby bench, seating us down on the wood that groaned quietly beneath our weight. We watched the sun as it continued its slow meander through the crimson sky, dipping beneath the silvery ocean's waves.

"Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"

I glanced at him briefly, but he did not meet my eyes, captivated by the tranquil scene unfolding in front of him. I looked back at the sunset. "Your brother asked me that yesterday." I felt him tense beside me. "But I declined," I continued.

"Why?" he asked carefully.

A smile settled on my lips, and a light pink finally dusted my cheeks. "Because I've been waiting for you to ask me."

"Have you?"

The slight surprise in his voice incited a small giggle out of me. "Yes... For a very long time." And while he had asked me over before as kids, it was only as friends. Now... those words carried a far heavier weight. I sighed. "I will attend—on one condition."

"And that is?"

".. You're not a weapon, Ajax." Our eyes met as I repeated my earlier words. "You're a living breathing human. Act like one." A stern command—and a hope.

"Y/n, I—"

"After all, how can one bring glory to the Tsaritsa dead?" He sighed through his nose and I continued, "I know there will be times when you'll break this promise, but I beg you... please try and avoid it. Foul Legacy must be a last resort." I offered a slight smile. "I support you, Ajax. Always have—even when you used to do the dumbest stuff to prove you were brave as a kid." He chuckled at the memories. I nudged my shoulder against his. "I'll always be here for you when your daily duties as a Harbinger are over but—I don't want you to kill yourself over this. Ok?"

It was silent for a moment as he looked out over the glistening ocean, glowing peach in the setting sun. His ginger tufts of hair fluttered in the gentle breeze, gaze flickering from one part of the view to the other as he was lost in thought. "Ok," he finally said, turning back to me.

"Promise?" I pushed.

"I promise, alright?" he chuckled. "I'll be careful—more than careful from now on. For... for you." I watched a smile form on his face, though he tried to stop it.

I laughed. "Very well, ginger."

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A/N: Childe angst 🤭
Gotta love the work that goes with writing with barely any canon details 😃🔫

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Completed: 10-08-23
Published: 19-12-23
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Fanart credits: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/85647662