Archive of Our Own

Mondstadt was... quaint. Just how Dainsleif remembered.

At some point in the night, they arrived at the familiar gates with Soraya deep asleep in Kaeya's arms. He practically dragged his feet towards his apartment, forcing himself through his exhaustion. At some point, when Kaeya led him to his apartment, Dainsleif swooped in to carry Soraya while Kaeya limped in. He has kept an eye on Kaeya a fair amount of times.

But he'd never seen Kaeya this exhausted. Still, he imagined that having gone through the journey without much rest must've definitely taken a toll on him. Dainsleif is very used to his exhaustion. As in, he doesn't feel anything anymore. Now, with Soraya in Mondstadt, Dainsleif could've taken this as an opportunity to leave. But after Soraya's... breakdown—if Dainsleif can even call it that—he's been more careful about what he says and how he says it. And he's also been more... generous.

He left Kaeya's apartment, head empty. His first move was going to the adventurer's guild, since that woman—Katheryne—was the same one from Sumeru, eerily identical. Twins, maybe? And it disturbed him on a number of levels that she knew exactly what letter he mentioned. But he just assumed the guild had their own networks. Or more like, he told himself that so he wouldn't think about it. She merely told him that the letter had been sent. Before, it would've relieved him. But now, it sort of... caused a sense of—not panic, but a little stronger than unease.

"So... it was sent? To Natlan?" He asked slowly, gripping the edge of the desk. Katheryne smiled and nodded. "Yes sir. An adventurer managed to accept the commission, as he was already on his way to Natlan for what I believe to be a personal reason."

That filled Dainsleif with unease. He should've taken the letter, this is all that rings through his head. He nods at Katheryne and walks back. Kaeya should know, he thinks. Surely, if the man is willing to make the trip and somehow he eventually finds out she's here, then Kaeya should be prepared. Dainsleif sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"What a troubling situation..." He grumbles to himself. He slowed near the plaza, eyes flicking instinctively toward the statue at its center. The towering form of Barbatos loomed overhead, serene, unbothered. Wind stirred around its outstretched hands.

Freedom.

He almost scoffed. He turned his face away and to the restaurant. Kaeya didn't have a lot of food in his apartment, (okay, so he took a peak, so what? It's a good thing he did) and he approached the woman. He didn't know what kids, and Soraya proved she'd eat anything in her plate. Probably something easy to digest for breakfast?

As for Kaeya... he doesn't know what he likes. Perhaps one of everything? Kaeya could do well to have some food in his apartment for himself since he won't be alone—oh right, they haven't discussed possible arrangements. That can be discussed over breakfast.

He approached the woman, who for some reason was nervous, and ordered. When he went back to Kaeya's apartment, he was surprised to see Kaeya up and about in a white blouse and simple pants, while Soraya sat at the table, upset. They were already awake?

Kaeya spotted him and blinked, "Oh... Dainsleif, you came back? I thought you left." Dainsleif frowned at that, though he couldn't really be surprised. He did make it known that once Soraya had been dropped in Mondstadt, he'd leave. He lifted a bag.

"I just got breakfast. Your lack of food is inefficient." Kaeya made a face, one of exasperation. As if he's heard that before from a certain red-haired brother of his. "I know, I know... but usually, I finish off any meals and fresh produce before leaving for a long journey. So they don't get spoiled..."

Dainsleif figures that makes sense, and he puts the food on the table. He looked at Soraya, who was smiling widely. "Master! I thought you left!" She smiled, hugging his arm. He sighed tiredly. Well, that's not gonna make him feel bad. "No... not... while you're sleeping, at least." He says instead. "Breakfast is here, eat up."

Soraya didn't need to be told twice.

She scrambled into her chair, hands already reaching for the wrapped parcels before Kaeya gently caught her wrists.

"Wash first," he said mildly, though his voice carried a rasp that hadn't been there before. "Mondstadt may be free, but it is not unsanitary."

She huffed, but obeyed. Kaeya chuckled, before sitting down. Dainsleif's gaze wept over Kaeya. His hair was messy, lazily put up with a hair clip but his eye patch was perfectly tied. He didn't wear his gloves or earings, but he did have wrist ruffles that for some reason, made Dainsleif snort. Why was it funny?

Kaeya arched a brow. "What?"

"Nothing." Dainsleif said quickly.

"Is something amusing?" Kaeya asked, a smirk growing. Dainsleif looked away. Why did the sight of Kaeya with wrist ruffles seem so amusing to him? Dainsleif cleared his throat and reached for one of the parcels, unwrapping it with deliberate care.

"It's simply... incongruous," he said at last. "You look like you've misplaced the rest of your uniform and kept only the most decorative piece."

Kaeya placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know these are essential. They improve morale."

"Whose?"

"Mine."

Dainsleif huffed quietly. That was probably true, given Kaeya's personality. "So... you wear formal clothes... at home?" He asks. Kaeya snorts, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "Look good privately, look good publicly."

Dainsleif arched a brow. "Never took you as the vain type." Kaeya lightly chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not. But sometimes, I enjoy wearing nice clothes. Not always do I have the luxury of simply dressing up for myself."

Huh. Dainsleif can... strangely get that. When one's schedule or goal takes up too much time, the time for simple pleasures decreases, and not even a momentary relief is easy to get. Dainsleif should know... "A guilty pleasure," Dainsleif says. Kaeya snorts, "Is it so guilty? It's just dressing up."

Dainsleif arched a brow, "You know it is. You indulge in dressing up, and for what? No one besides yourself." Kaeya laughs, leaning his head on his hand. "And? I sometimes like to dress myself up. Step out from my comfort zone in styles. It's not like I'm going anywhere with that."

Dainsleif rolled his eyes. What an impractical hobby. Dressing up, and for what? Just to undress and put them away? It's unnecessary work.

"Do you have a guilty pleasure, Dainsleif~?" Kaeya asks with a smirk.

Dainsleif did not answer immediately.

He folded the parchment around the bread with unnecessary precision, buying himself seconds he did not need. Kaeya watched him over the rim of his cup, visible eye bright with interest.

"A guilty pleasure implies indulgence," Dainsleif said at last. "I do not indulge."

Kaeya hummed. "That sounds less like discipline and more like deprivation."

"It is efficiency."

"It is tragic."

Dainsleif ignored that.

Soraya returned, damp hands shoved carelessly into her dress. Kaeya reached out on reflex and dried them properly with a cloth, movements automatic. Dainsleif noticed that too. The way Kaeya's touch was careful. Familiar. As if he'd done it before.

"Eat," Kaeya told her, softer now.

She obeyed enthusiastically.

Silence settled for a few moments, broken only by the crinkle of paper and the clink of ceramic. Dainsleif did not eat, despite Soraya's insistence. He didn't eat because he didn't need to. But Soraya... didn't seem to care, shoving a plate towards him while Kaeya hid a laugh.

Now he's eating a plate of fluffy pancakes. Very slow and unwilling bites. Soraya began asking questions, mostly about the adventurer's guild, about potential other kids. Needless to say, she was very eager to begin her life here in Mondstadt. Kaeya answered each question with a smile, his sole eye twinkling with fondness.

Dainsleif just listened to them talk, letting their voices wash into white noise. He should tell Kaeya about the letter. But should he mention it in front of Soraya? The girl didn't seem to mind the letter at all. In fact, Dainsleif isn't even sure if she remembers the letter. Still, perhaps this is an adult discussion.

"Soraya, easy!" He snaps back to reality when he hears Kaeya speak with some alarm. He sees Soraya eat the food with great enthusiasm, startling Dainsleif. "Easy, little star!" Kaeya says with a somewhat surprised laugh, gently pulling the plate away. "You could choke!"

Soraya whined at the plate being taken from her, and frowned at Kaeya's words. "But I need to eat and get strong so I can join the adventurer's guild!" Dainsleif arched a brow. "And choking yourself will eliminate your chances."

Kaeya gave him a look. "Is it natural for you to talk death over breakfast?" Dainsleif frowned faintly, as though genuinely considering the question.

"Is it natural," he replied evenly, "to pretend choking is not a possible outcome?"

Kaeya stared at him for half a second. Then he sighed, rubbing his temple. "You must be delightful at celebrations."

"I do not attend them."

"That explains a great deal."

Soraya looked between them with narrowed eyes, chewing slowly now that the plate had been confiscated. Kaeya slid it back toward her once he was satisfied she had slowed down.

"Small bites," he reminded.

She nodded with exaggerated seriousness and immediately ignored him by stuffing another large piece into her mouth. Kaeya closed his eye for a moment like a man contemplating every mistake that led him here.

Dainsleif watched the exchange in silence.

It was... strange—Not unpleasant. Just unfamiliar.

The domestic rhythm of it. The casual way Kaeya corrected Soraya without thinking. The way the girl obeyed just enough to show she had heard him, but not enough to actually follow instructions. Dainsleif had seen families before. This felt... adjacent to one. He shifted slightly in his chair. The thought suddenly felt... weird. 

He had spent centuries among ruins, ghosts, and battlefields. The closest thing to companionship he usually tolerated was temporary alliances that dissolved the moment the objective was completed. What sat before him now was something else entirely—mundane in a way that felt almost surreal.

Soraya humming through a mouthful of food. Kaeya leaning back slightly in his chair, watching her with tired patience. The soft light of morning filtering through the window. Dainsleif frowned faintly at his plate.

He's seen this before... but where? Or rather... when? An old memory long forgotten, yet completely eroded. He barely remembers it, almost unimportant. And yet, it lingers. A faint breeze passing through, because the window had been opened.

He remembers a gentle smile. But whose? A faceless smile, but it was so close... he just couldn't remember the face. Dainsleif froze halfway through lifting his fork. It was a trivial scent. Bread, fruit, syrup. Ordinary things. And yet the moment it reached him, something in his chest tightened with quiet violence.

For a fleeting instant—Stone walls instead of plaster. A wide window instead of this narrow one. Golden light spilling across a table far longer than the one before him. Voices. Not Soraya's high chatter, not Kaeya's lazy drawl. Different voices. Softer. Familiar in a way that hurt to reach for.

He saw hands passing a bowl. He heard laughter. And that same smile again—warm, patient—Then the memory collapsed like dust. Dainsleif's fork touched the plate with a soft clink. He stared at the pancakes as though they had personally offended him.

"Dainsleif?"

Kaeya's voice cut through the silence. Dainsleif blinked once.

The room returned. Soraya was still chewing loudly. Kaeya was still watching him with mild curiosity, head tilted slightly. The morning light was still exactly where it had been.

Nothing had changed. Except the tightness in Dainsleif's chest.

"...What?" he said, tone flat.

"You stopped moving," Kaeya said, gesturing vaguely with his cup. "I thought perhaps the pancakes had finally defeated you."

Dainsleif resumed cutting the food with mechanical precision.

"They are merely inefficient."

"They are food."

"They are sweetened flour."

"That is generally what pancakes are, yes."

Soraya swallowed loudly and pointed at him with her fork. "They're delicious! I never eat breakfast this tasty!" She smiles widely, before stuffing her face again. Neither Dainsleif nor Kaeya wanted to ask, for fear of what she had. But then again, Kaeya was naturally curious.

"What did you usually eat?" He asks tentatively. Soraya slurps the syrup loudly, in a way that makes Dainsleif grimace with disgust at her lack of manners, as she answers. "Toast mostly!" Kaeya's shoulders loosened somewhat.

"But I'd also eat once a day!"

And there was the sudden drop of truth that had both Kaeya and Dainsleif freeze up. So that confirms the theory that she'd been purposefully starved. It makes the pit in Dainsleif's stomach grow.

The words landed heavier than Soraya seemed to realize. She said it the way a child might mention the weather.

Once a day.

Kaeya's fingers tightened around his cup just slightly. Not enough for Soraya to notice—but Dainsleif saw it. The knuckles whitening for the briefest moment before Kaeya forced them to relax again.

Soraya, oblivious to the tension she had created, licked syrup off the side of her fork and added cheerfully, "But sometimes I'd get fruit too! If there was fruit."

Kaeya inhaled slowly through his nose. "I see," he said lightly. Too lightly.

Dainsleif could hear the strain threaded beneath the casual tone. Kaeya had always been good at masking reactions. It was a survival skill in its own right. But exhaustion dulled that precision, and the cracks were easier to spot this morning.

Soraya continued happily, "Sometimes it was stale toast though. That was bad."

Dainsleif set his fork down. The sound was quiet, but deliberate.

"Why," he asked evenly, "were you only given one meal a day?" Kaeya immediately shot him a look. Too direct. But Dainsleif was a direct man. Soraya didn't seem bothered. She shrugged with syrup-sticky shoulders.

"Because I had to earn more food!" The words came out proud.

Dainsleif felt something inside his chest go very still. Kaeya leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on the table. "And how," he asked gently, "did you earn it?"

Soraya brightened, clearly pleased to explain. "Training!" Her fork waved excitedly. "Lots of training! If I finished all my drills, I'd get dinner. If I did them fast, sometimes I got soup too."

Dainsleif's jaw tightened. Training. A child. Kaeya's voice remained calm, but softer now. "And if you didn't finish them?"

Soraya shrugged, "...Then I'd try harder the next day."

That wasn't an answer. Kaeya knew it. Dainsleif knew it. But neither pushed. Not yet. Kaeya reached forward and quietly slid another pancake onto her plate.

"You can eat as much as you like here," he said.

Soraya blinked. "...Really?"

"As much as you want."

Her eyes widened like someone had just handed her the sun. "Even three plates?!"

Kaeya chuckled faintly. "If you manage three plates, I'll personally award you the title of Knight of the Breakfast Table."

Soraya gasped. Dainsleif watched the exchange in silence. The girl immediately began attacking the new pancake with renewed determination. Kaeya leaned back in his chair again, but the humor faded from his expression the moment Soraya looked down at her food.

His gaze slid toward Dainsleif. It was subtle. A silent conversation. Dainsleif understood it immediately. It explained her eagerness to train all the time. She literally had to train for food, something that's meant to be a basic necessity, as if it was a transaction. Every strike, every form, every repetition was a currency for existence, not growth. And it made her eagerness to learn all the more... devastating.

"Soraya..." Dainsleif started, "Eat well. Because we'll be training." Soraya and Kaey both looked at him, startled. But Soraya's surprise morphed to excitement. "Really?!"

Dainsleif found himself nodding. "To become strong, you must train. You're still growing, so you need to eat a lot." He pointedly ignored the stare from Kaeya.

He's not stupid, he understood everything the girl just said. Her need to train is her way to get basic things. not just eating, but living apparently. But Dainsleif also saw a hint of genuine excitement. The girl may have been using it as a transaction, but it was one she seemed to like.

Even though she really shouldn't.

Soraya smiled brightly, enough to soften Dainsleif. Soraya ate with a renewed vigor. The entire time, Kaeya stared at Dainsleif with his one eye narrowed. Dainsleif wasn't afraid of Kaeya, he finds the bluenette cunning, yes, intelligent, undeniable. But scary? No, Dainsleif doesn't find an intimidating factor about him. But the intense gaze Kaeya is burning through his skull with?

Dainsleif feels himself shiver. Not because he's afraid, but he does feel the frost Kaeya is sending him. Soraya ate the pancakes and practically cleaned the plate. Kaeya smiled charmingly at her and took the plate, heading towards the sink.

"Soraya, why don't you go wash up? I'm sure you'd love a nice bath after going for almost more than a week without one." Kaeya smiled, washing the plate. Soraya blinked, before tilting her head. "A bath? Really? But I didn't earn one yet."

The kitchen went quiet. Kaeya's hand stopped mid-motion in the basin, water running over the plate he had been washing. For a moment he didn't move at all. Dainsleif felt something cold and unpleasant settle in his stomach.

"You don't have to earn a bath," Kaeya said finally. His voice was still light, still warm—but it had lost the easy lilt it usually carried.

Soraya frowned slightly, as if he had just said something that didn't make sense. "But baths are for after training days," she explained patiently. "Or if you win matches."

Kaeya placed the plate down slowly in the sink. The porcelain clicked against the metal with quiet precision. "I see," he said.

Dainsleif watched him carefully. Kaeya dried his hands with a cloth and turned around, leaning casually against the counter. Anyone who didn't know him well might have believed he was relaxed. Dainsleif knew enough to know that he wasn't.

"Soraya," Kaeya said gently, "in Mondstadt, or literally anywhere else, baths are for when you're dirty."

She blinked.

"And when you want to relax."

Another blink.

"And when someone has syrup in their hair."

Soraya froze. Her hand immediately flew up to her head. Sticky strands of hair clung together where syrup had indeed made its way during breakfast.

Dainsleif had noticed. He had simply chosen not to comment. Soraya stared at her fingers like they had betrayed her.

"Oh."

Kaeya smiled softly. "So yes," he said, pushing himself away from the counter. "You're going to take a bath."

Soraya hesitated. "But... my clothes are dirty too." Dainsleif felt that was his fault. They did do some practice on postures and such on the way back and he's certain she sweated through them, got them dirty and such.

Kaeya, however, didn't seem concerned. He smiled and waved it off. "Oh don't worry about it~ I have some spare clothes from when a few kids had a sleepover." Dainsleif arched a brow. Kaeya regularly has kids over? What is he, the residential caretaker? How often do parents leave their children with him?

Kaeya takes out a red dress with a white capelet, and some nice boots. "Here you are, little star. Some fresh clothes. I'll wash your old clothes so that when you get them back, they'll be clean." he smiled softly.

Soraya took the clothes with wide eyes. She softly gasps, holding the clothes with awe. She rubs her face and coos. "It's so soft!"

Her fingers pressed into the fabric again, testing the softness, then again as if confirming it was real. The capelet slid over her wrist and she made a quiet sound somewhere between a giggle and a gasp.

“It’s really soft,” she repeated reverently.

Kaeya smiled, leaning his hip against the counter. “That tends to happen when clothes are washed regularly.”

Soraya looked up sharply. “You wash them before someone wears them?”

Dainsleif’s eyes flicked toward Kaeya. There it was again. Another small statement that landed heavier than it should have. Kaeya didn’t miss it either. But instead of letting the pause stretch into something uncomfortable, he only chuckled lightly.

“Well,” he said, pushing away from the counter, “it’s generally considered polite not to hand people mysterious unwashed garments.”

Soraya seemed to consider this groundbreaking information. Then she clutched the dress to her chest. “I’m going to take the fastest bath ever!” she announced.

“That is precisely the opposite of what baths are for,” Kaeya replied, raising his voice as she ran down the hall. Dainsleif watched her disappear into the bathroom with the determined urgency of someone embarking on a sacred quest. A door closed. A moment later they heard the sound of something being dropped, followed by muffled muttering.

Kaeya exhaled slowly. The smile faded the moment Soraya was out of sight. "Okay," He starts, turning his face towards Dainsleif. "I understand indulging her on the way to Mondstadt, but what happened to keeping a distance?"

He crossed his arms, approaching Dainsleif. "You're gonna train her? Is that what I'm hearing? You heard what she said, right?" Dainsleif sighed. Why did it feel like Kaeya was nagging him rather than discussing with him?

"I heard. I also saw that her eagerness was genuine." He says, looking up at Kaeya. Kaeya held his gaze for a long moment. It was not the sharp glare from earlier—the one edged with frost and irritation—but something quieter. Measuring.

“You did,” Kaeya said slowly. “And you also saw why.” Dainsleif did not answer. Kaeya exhaled through his nose and dragged a chair back with his foot before sitting down across from him again. The scrape of wood against the floor filled the brief silence.

“You’re not wrong,” Kaeya admitted. “She does want to train.” His fingers tapped the table once. Twice.

“But children who grow up like that tend to believe effort is the price of survival. That if they stop working, everything disappears.”

Dainsleif folded his arms. “That belief is not incorrect.”

Kaeya gave him a flat look. “Dainsleif.”

“What?”

“That is not the lesson we want reinforced in a thirteen-year-old.”

“She is already living by it.”

“Yes,” Kaeya said patiently, “which means the solution is not encouraging it further.”

Dainsleif leaned back slightly in his chair. The movement was slow, deliberate. “You misunderstand my intention.”

“Then enlighten me.”

Dainsleif tilted his head toward the hallway where the faint splash of water had begun. “She associates training with security. With reward. With stability.” His voice was calm, analytical. “If we remove it entirely, she will assume she is being punished.”

Kaeya’s tapping stopped. Dainsleif continued. “But if training remains present while the conditions change…” He gestured vaguely. “…the association can be altered.”

Kaeya’s eye narrowed thoughtfully. “Explain.”

“She trains,” Dainsleif said. “But the food comes before the effort. The bath comes regardless. The rest comes without negotiation.”

Kaeya leaned back slightly. “So training stops being currency.”

“Yes.”

“And becomes…?”

Dainsleif shrugged faintly. “Something she enjoys.” For a few seconds the only sound was the water running in the other room. Kaeya studied him. “You put an awful lot of thought into that for someone who claims not to indulge.”

“I do not indulge.”

“You’re redesigning a child’s psychological reward system.”

“That is not indulgence. It is strategy.”

Kaeya’s mouth twitched.

“…You are a very strange man.”

“So I have been told.”

Kaeya rested his chin in his hand, still watching him. “Let me ask you something honestly,” he said. “Why do you care?”

Dainsleif frowned faintly. “That question is irrelevant.”

“No,” Kaeya said mildly. “It’s extremely relevant.”

Dainsleif didn’t answer. Kaeya tilted his head. “You were supposed to leave once we reached Mondstadt. You’re still here.”

“Yes.”

“You bought breakfast. You are planning training schedules. You carried her while I limped home.” Kaeya smiled slowly. “You’re awfully involved for someone who wants to leave.”

Dainsleif’s expression remained perfectly neutral. "It's a surprise to be thoughtful?" He asks. Kaeya wasn't wrong, and Dainsleif knew it. Dainsleif made it clear that he didn't want to be involved. But honestly, a child as bright as Soraya doesn't deserve the life she's been living up to now.

"Is it unusual to want to leave a child in good hands? By making a schedule, maintaining it and such, I can at least leave with the knowledge that all her needs are cared for." Kaeya just smirks at his words.

"So... you do care." Dainsleif growls, eyes narrowed. "For the last time, I don't—"

Thunk.

Both men turned toward the hallway. Silence settled between them, before Kaeya spoke up. “…Did you hear that?” Kaeya asked.

Another sound followed. Clatter. Then Soraya’s muffled voice, “I’M OKAY!”

Kaeya and Dainsleif shared a look. In a second, both were up and heading down the hallway when the bathroom door suddenly opened. Soraya stepped out, wrapped in a towel that was clearly too big for her. Her hair was soaked, dripping steadily onto the floor.

And she looked extremely proud of herself.

“I didn’t drown,” she announced. Kaeya peaked into the bathroom. Aside from the wet floor, there was his bottles of shampoo in the tub, and his cup holding his toothbrush and hairbrush on the ground. Wel... he has some cleaning to do.

Dainsleif dropped down, looking her up and down. She's dripping wet, but she's not clean. He can still see some splotches of dirt on her visible knee, the barely scrubbed off soap on her arm and... Dainsleif doesn't even want to mention her hair. It's almost as if she just... went in water and just sat there...

He and Kaeya shared a look. Something he finds them doing more frequently, which was odd. Kaeya sighed, "Soraya, little star... that's not how bathing works. You're supposed to use soap." Soraya blinked, tilting her head. "Soap?" She looks back into the tub, where Kaeya's various shampoos were floating.

Dainsleif arched a brow when Kaeya remembered them and put them up. What could a man need so much shampoo for? Just one for the body and one for the hair, that's it. What does he need 5 for? And... his eyes narrow. Is that cream? Facial cream or... skin cream? He gave Kaeya a weird look.

"But... soap is just for adults... my dad always said soap is for adults, not kids." Kaeya froze and Dainsleif sighed. At this point, if she told them that she wasn't allowed to breathe too loudly, he wouldn't be surprised. Kaeya frowned. He drained the water from the tub, refilled it with clean water and popped a shampoo bottle open and poured it in the tub.

"Soraya, get back in. I'll help you wash up." He said, testing the temperature and swishing the water around. Soraya blinked. "Huh? Why? I am clean!"

Dainsleif sighed, "No you are not. You're just wet." Kaeya crouched beside the tub, sleeves already rolled up again. “Little star,” he said patiently, “bathing requires soap. Otherwise you are just… marinating.”

Dainsleif added flatly, “In your own dirt.”

Soraya stared between them.

“…That sounds bad.”

“It is bad,” Kaeya confirmed pleasantly.

She hesitated only a moment longer before shyly climbing back into the tub, holding the towel tightly as she stands there, getting the towel drenched, with the solemn air of someone accepting a difficult quest. Water sloshed over the rim immediately.

Dainsleif stepped back just in time to avoid the splash. He saw how Soraya clutched the towel and hummed. He left the bathroom, giving them privacy, and closing the door. Kaeya sighed but said nothing, taking the towel after Soraya sat down. He needed to wash it anyway. The faint scent of soap began to rise as the shampoo dispersed through the bath.

“Alright,” Kaeya said. “First step: hair.”

Soraya looked alarmed. “My hair?”

“Yes.”

“…All of it?”

“All of it.”

Dainsleif remained in the hallway, listening to the chaos unfold with the same expression he wore during battlefield strategy meetings. Inside the bathroom came the sounds of splashing, Kaeya calmly giving instructions, and Soraya reacting like someone discovering civilization for the first time.

“My eyes!”

“Close them.”

“I did!”

“Then why are you staring directly at the soap?”

“I panicked!”

Kaeya could be heard quietly sighing, and Dainsleif frowned when Soraya yelled out in pain. "Why are you pulling?!" Kaeya scoffed, "I'm brushing your hair! Do you never brush it?" He yells back.

"No, what maniac does this on a daily basis?!" Soraya squealed, and Dainsleif hears more splashing. Kaeya groans, "A person's hair is important! You need to take care of it and not end up with a messy mop! Like Dainsleif!"

Dainsleif frowned. His hair was fine. He doesn't need to worry about it, he just... he put a hand in his hair and frowned. He removed his glove, and felt the scalp. His hair was greasy. When did he last wash his hair? The thought made him frown. Wow, he really didn't take care of himself, no wonder he's eroding fast. He looks in the mirror Kaeya had in the hallway. His hair looked.

“…That is not how rinsing works,” Kaeya said. Dainsleif was brought back from his silent debate. He hears Soraya yelp, and Kaeya grunts as more splashing was heard. Dainsleif pinched the bridge of his nose. Children were inefficient creatures.

After a while, Soraya walked out, wrapped in another towel as she was dripping wet. Clean, this time. Dainsleif nodded, noting how her blonde hair had a much lighter sheen to it, and her skin was more... brighter? Clean is more appropriate, since he can actually see the color without the dusty layer.

"Good. You're clean, now you can..." He trailed off, seeing Kaeya walk forward. He was... drenched. Water dripped steadily from Kaeya's hair, trailing down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of the soaked white blouse clinging to him like it had personally sworn loyalty. The fabric had gone nearly translucent in places, outlining the lines of muscle in his chest and shoulders far more clearly than the garment had ever intended.

Kaeya leaned on the doorframe, panting as water dripped down his hair. Dainsleif felt his mouth run dry. What a.... strange sight. He pushed himself off the doorframe with a tired exhale and ran a hand through his wet hair, immediately regretting the action when water splattered across the floor.

Dainsleif was still looking. His eyes slowly went down, down his collarbone and firmly on the way Kaeya's slim but surprisingly muscled body—

"I'm cold." Soraya said suddenly, snapping Dainsleif back to reality. Dainsleif blinked once, the brief haze in his mind evaporating instantly. His attention snapped downward to the girl standing barefoot on the floor, wrapped in a towel that was steadily becoming soaked through.

Water pooled around her feet. Of course she was cold. “You are dripping onto the floor,” Dainsleif said flatly.

Soraya sniffed. “That’s because I’m wet.”

“A remarkable observation.” Dainsleif says. He sighed and looked for another towel. He handed it to Kaeya, "Dry yourself. I'll dry her and... give her the clothes." He was certainly not helping her dress. But he figures he could help her dry while Kaeya got himself dried as well.

Kaeya nodded in thanks, wrapping the towel around himself as Dainsleif led her to the room. He sighed. How does one dry a child? Does he need to sit down? He looked around and saw a chair. He sat on it and beckoned her closer.

"Let's dry you up." Soraya shuffled towards him and turned. He had dried himself before. He had bandaged wounds, repaired armor, stitched torn cloaks in the dark with numb fingers. None of those things had prepared him for the task currently presented.

Children, he concluded, were logistically complicated.

He unfolded the towel and hesitated only a second before placing it over her head. The fabric swallowed most of her upper body immediately.

“Stay still,” he said.

“I am still,” Soraya protested, though she swayed slightly where she stood.

Dainsleif began drying her hair with careful, almost mechanical motions. He rubbed the towel through the strands the way one might polish a blade—methodical, efficient. Soraya made a noise.

“Why are you scrubbing me like that?”

“I am drying your hair.”

“You're attacking it.”

“I am not.”

She squirmed anyway. The movement made the towel slip sideways, briefly covering her entire face. “Mmph!”

Dainsleif lifted it again with a small sigh. “Remain stationary.”

“I am stationary!”

“You are vibrating.”

She huffed. Dainsleif continued working the towel through her hair, slower this time. The strands were softer now that they were clean, far easier to move through the cloth than the tangled mess he had seen earlier. He then tapped the towel over her body, drying her up before looking for the clothes.

"Alright. Dress yourself, and... I'll wait outside." He stood up, taking the clothes and handing them over to Soraya. She looked at them, rubbing the material with a smile. Dainsleif stepped and sighed.

Kaeya eventually emerged, wearing a new blouse. Unlike the previous one, this was much simpler, a bit more... on the blue side. A pastel blue, to be exact. Kaeya wore different pants, and he had his hair open, rubbing the towel over it. "Well... I guess I don't need another bath tonight." Kaeya snorts.

Dainsleif arched a brow. Kaeya snorts at his expression. "You, on the other hand." Kaeya smirks. Dainsleif felt a defensiveness rise. "My hair isn't greasy." Kaeya snorted, removing the towel. His hair draped over his shoulder, somehow framing Kaeya's face in an... odd way.

"I didn't say it was."

Dainsleif frowned. "You did. To Soraya, when washing her." Kaeya froze for a moment, the smirk fading just slightly. His one visible eye narrowed, darting toward Dainsleif with a mix of amusement and calculation. "Did I…?" he asked carefully, voice teasing but laced with awareness.

Dainsleif’s expression remained neutral, though the faint lift of an eyebrow betrayed his mild incredulity. "You did. She does not need to know the condition of my hair," he said plainly. His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it carried an unmistakable weight—a statement of principle, not preference.

Kaeya snorts, and approached him. "Well, was I right? Is your hair greasy?" Kaeya asks, making Dainsleif tense. He leaned back when Kaeya approached. "What are you—"

"Relax, I'm just gonna look." Kaeya says with a smirk, making Dainsleif tense all the more. Look? What does look mean in this context? "Look from there, you don't need to—"

Dainsleif freezes when Kaeya's fingers comb through his hair. His eyes widen as warmth floods him. Kaeya's fingers gently glide through his hair, the motion strange and so very odd, but also... oddly soothing. Dainsleif’s muscles stiffened, yes, but he didn’t pull away. It was a foreign sensation—soft, deliberate, and intimate in a way that wasn’t threatening, yet completely disarming. Kaeya’s touch lingered longer than necessary, as if studying the strands for imperfections, or perhaps just enjoying the act. Dainsleif’s mind raced. Don't panic, it's just fingers in your hair. Maintain composure. None of it mattered. The warmth, the unusual care in Kaeya’s hands—it bypassed his reasoning entirely.

“You… uh…” Dainsleif started, voice low and uneven, though he immediately cut it. That was weak. He straightened, his hand twitching at his side, yet he didn’t retreat.

Kaeya hummed, a light, teasing sound that made Dainsleif’s chest tighten. “Hmm? Say something. You’re stiff as a board. It’s fascinating.” His one eye sparkled with mischievous intent.

“I… I am fine,” Dainsleif said, though the precision in his words betrayed him. Fine wasn’t fine. Not even close.

“Fine,” Kaeya repeated, mockingly echoing the word as his fingers continued to smooth through the hair. “Sure you are. Very… fine.” There was a deliberate drawl to the last word, one that made Dainsleif’s jaw tense.

Finally, Kaeya pulled back, rubbing his fingers. "You're hair is..." The silence that followed made Dainslief sigh, and remember why Kaeya's fingers were there in the first place. "Greasy...?" He asked with a sigh.

"Atrocious." Kaeya says with a disturbed tone. "Dain... when was the last time you actually bathed? Like... an actual bath?" That had Dainsleif stop and think. He stopped occasionally to wash, yes... but a long and deep bath? He actually has to think about that. Apparently, he thought too long on it because Kaeya groaned.

"Oh for goodness sakes, Dainsleif, you're filthy! You need to shower too!" Kaeya said with a surprisingly stern voice. Dainsleif stiffened, hand half-raised as if to ward off the accusation, though he didn’t step back. “…I have not been… negligent,” he said carefully. His voice was calm, but his jaw tightened. “…Simply… occupied.”

Kaeya’s smirk had vanished entirely, replaced with a faint frown, his eye narrowing slightly. “Occupied,” he repeated slowly, letting the word hang between them like a challenge. “By what, exactly? Strategizing the collapse of civilizations? Negotiating with ghosts? You’re telling me you don’t have five minutes to clean yourself properly?”

“I am efficient,” Dainsleif said flatly. “…Hygiene is… secondary to necessity.”

Kaeya rolled his eye, clearly unimpressed. “Secondary. Right. You mean neglected.” He let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his still-damp hair. “Look, Dainsleif… I don’t care about your centuries-long goal and your obsession for efficiency, alright? You’re human—or, well, pseudo-human enough—and you need to… function like one. That includes soap, water, and not scaring children with your filth.”

Dainsleif pinched the bridge of his nose. “…Children are not alarmed by minor dirt.”

Kaeya glared at him. "Go. Shower. I'll leave you some extra clothes." He said with a huff, turning towards his room. Dainsleif sighed, rubbing his forehead. He turned and jumped when he saw Soraya standing there, staring at him. "For the love of—" He put a hand on his still heart, sighing.

"Don't... do that, Soraya." He said to her. Soraya smiled widely, uncaring about his words as she twirled in her dress. "What do you think, Master? Do I look good?" She asks, eyes twinkling as she twirls, the red oddly suiting her. Her hair was drying nicely, the blonde color shining more now that it was clean as it curled.

Her freckles were also more clear to see, which made Dainsleif... soften. "You look good." She brightened at his praise. Dainsleif almost smiled. She really was a good kid. Despite his insistence to not be involved, he's already involved now. He might as well help while he's here before he leaves. Leave something she can remember.

He ruffled her hair, which made her giggle. He nearly smiled—

"Dainsleif! Come shower and fix that horrible hair!" Kaeya's yell interrupts the moment, making Dainsleif frown. He rolled his eyes. "Is Mr. Kaeya gonna give you a bath?" Dainsleif froze, eyes widening as he stared at her with a scandalized look. "Soraya!"

The girl blinked, confused at his scandalized voice when Kaeya laughed from where he was. Dainsleif growled and stood up, walking past a smug Kaeya, who held a new set of clothes. He snatched them, walking in the bathroom.

"Need any help~?" he heard Kaeya ask, a little too close to his ear, might he add. He turned and glared at the bluenetter. "No." He seethed, before closing the door in his face, his deep roots in etiquette preventing him from going against it and slamming it.

˚⟡❄️˙❄️⟡˚

The sun was strong, but the gentle breeze was enough to break the heat. But then again, Dainsleif was immune to both the heat and the cold. But he also admitted that the clothes he currently wore weren't super appropriate.

When he saw the clothes Kaeya had given him, at first they seemed fine. But after putting them on, he was very annoyed at the large chest window. This was barely a shirt. He kept fiddling with the strings, trying to find a way to close the large chest window, but he couldn't. He was stuck with that annoying and inappropriate shirt that had a window down to his abdomen.

But he will admit, it felt good to be clean. Even his hair felt lighter. Now, they were outside, out of the city and near Windrise. Dainsleif would not have chosen this. It was the least of his choices on where to train. But Kaeya insisted it was the best place to train, especially when there was no monsters. Except the occasional slime, which were... nothing at all.

Dainsleif picked up where they left off. With posture. Kaeya silently sat by the tree, watching them while Dainsleif helped Soraya fix her posture. "Legs more apart, shoulders aligned with your knees." He helped her reposition herself.

"This is a defensive position. When you must defend yourself, this is always the go-to position." Dainsleif whispers to her, voice low but firm. Soraya nodded, blinking rapidly as she tried to imitate his movements. The sunlight caught the gold strands of her hair, making them gleam as she swayed slightly, testing her balance.

“Good, good… now, knees bent slightly, not too stiff. Feel the ground beneath you, Soraya. Your stance gives you stability,” Dainsleif murmured, stepping closer to adjust her elbow. She flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.

"Now. Do you know how many positions are there?" He asks, crouching in front of her. Dainsleif’s deep blue eyes met hers with a seriousness that made Soraya swallow nervously. “There are… several?” she ventured, unsure.

“Exactly,” he said, his voice still low but carrying the weight of experience. “Every position has a purpose, and every purpose has a context. You can’t just move blindly in combat; every stance is calculated, defensive or offensive. Precision comes before power.”

Soraya’s fingers tightened slightly on the staff she held, her gaze dropping to her feet as she tried to mimic his posture once more. The breeze brushed past them, teasing loose strands of her hair into her face, but she ignored it.

Dainsleif crouched lower, bringing himself eye-level with her. He pushed the hair back, ignoring her smile. “This one—” he gestured to her current position, “—is your base stance. From here, you can pivot, block, or strike without losing balance. Understand?”

“I think so…” she whispered, hesitating, “but… it feels unnatural.”

He allowed himself the barest hint of a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It will. At first, every correct position feels awkward. You’re not used to using your body like a weapon yet. But repetition will make it instinctive.”

“Now,” Dainsleif continued, standing and circling her slowly, “you’re going to practice transitions. Base stance to forward strike, back to defensive… always returning to your base. Every motion has a flow. Watch me first.”

He demonstrated smoothly, almost effortlessly, moving through positions with a fluidity that made Soraya’s stomach tighten. Seeing her look, he slowed it down a bit, but his transitions were still fluid. years of experience take over. He stopped and nodded to her.

“Follow my lead,” he said, stepping back into his base stance. His movements were deliberate, each one precise, each one a demonstration of control. Soraya took a deep breath and mirrored him, wincing at first as her body protested.

Dainsleif’s hands moved briefly, adjusting her stance here and there—elbows, knees, the tilt of her hips—each touch firm but not harsh. “Better. Again. This time, flow through it without thinking. Feel your body, not the instructions.”

Soraya slowly repeated the transitions. Sometimes she fell, but she got back up and continued again. Dainsleif watched her moves, nodding slowly. She was a fast learner. He heard Kaeya slowly approach him, feeling the shorter man stop beside him.

"Shouldn't you be working, Cavalry Captain?" Dainsleif asked with a hint of exasperation. When Kaeya said he'd join them, Dainsleif was confused. All he kept thinking was that Kaeya should be working. A knight's duty is never done, he believes. But then again, a Cavalry Captain without a cavalry has more free time then one suspects.

Could be why children spend so much time with him.

"Oh please, Dainsleif, this girl will be in my care. I should at least oversee her training, since you'll be leaving soon." Kaeya says with a smirk. "I spoke with the adventurers guild, they won't mind taking her in. But... I wouldn't having her around for a bit."

Ah, that reminds him. "I assume they told you about the letter?" He asks. Kaeya hums, nodding as he crossed his arms. "Yes. A minor inconvenience. I can handle an abusive asshole." Kaeya's expression darkened.

That was interesting. Dainsleif kept his eyes on Soraya, who's forms were becoming more cleaner. "The line between arrogance and confidence is thin. Sometimes, almost blurry." He says, though it's really not want to say. What he wants to say, is to not let personal revenge get in the way of justice. But the dark look on Kaeya's face wasn't one of personal vendetta. He knew very well what it looked.

This was... personal distaste. Whether it is from experience or just a personal opinion, Dainsleif doesn't know. But he's not willing to find out, as it is not his business. "And didn't you say the adventurer's guild will care for her? Why the sudden change?" He asks.

"Soraya, shift balance!" He yells, noticing a flaw in one particular stance. Soraya makes a noise and fixes her position. Kaeya crossed his arms, and hums. "She reminds me of someone... A young girl. She's in Sumeru, actually, studying at the Akademiya. She was experimented on by Dottore."

That... was not what he expected. Dainsleif broke his gaze and looked at Kaeya, who had a distant look on his face. "She's fine now, but... when we first found her, she was... worse. Worse than Soraya."

As he says this, Soraya trips over a log, and falls flat on her face. She growls, glaring at the log and kicks it. She winced and held her toe, before grabbing the staff and fighting the log. Dainsleif stares blankly at her, while Kaeya snorts.

"Worse than that?" Dainsleif asks, gesturing to her. Kaeya hums. "She was... skin and boys, Dain. Sick, scared and hostile... everything a child shouldn't be. I was investigating a matter and she was who I thought at the time to be a suspect... but I found out I was wrong, and... now we're on good terms. But her suffering, it stuck with me. Every time I see a kid like her, it rubs me the wrong way."

The staff Soraya used to beat the log snapped, and she groaned. Dainsleif arched a brow at her. He should probably step in. But Kaeya's words keep him reigned in place, his gaze going back to him. "I didn't like how I first treated Collei. And now, hearing how well she's doing from Amber, it makes me feel glad. Kids shouldn't be suffering. They shouldn't grow up too soon."

His gaze hardened, and Dainsleif recognizes something there. Something he associated with Kaeya from the first moment he laid his eyes on him. "...You were given a responsibility. A child, with an adult's goal." Dainsleif says, eyes narrowed, but not hostile.

Kaeya glanced at him, his sole eye narrowed. For a moment, neither said a word. Until, "Does this mean you finally understand that I'm not a threat?" Kaeya asks with a teasing smile, but there was no mirth. Dainsleif hums. "More like... understand that your relationship with the abyss isn't what I initially thought.

Kaeya finally cracked a genuine smile. Small, barely visible. But it's there. "Good... Took you long enough," Dainsleif stares into Kaeya's eye, the tension dissolving into a more calmer atmosphere, a silent understanding passing between the two. Dainsleif didn't feel as annoyed anymore. Kaeya was still a mystery to him, but he is slowly understanding him. Slowly. The man is still odd, in Dainsleif's opinion.

"Master! There's a big slime staring at me!" Soraya's excited voice broke their... strange reverie as they both stare. A small hydro slime was staring at Soraya. Dainsleif frowned, pulling Soraya back. It posed as no threat, but even so, he wouldn't let Soraya get hurt. Kaeya moved quick, his sword shining as he froze the slime, slicing it once and it dissolved right before them. The entire time, Soraya's eyes were wide and starstruck.

"Will I do that one day?!" She asks eagerly. Kaeya chuckled, waving his sword and splashing the residue off. "If you work hard, perhaps~" Soraya squealed in excitement, jumping up and down as she picked up her broken staff and continued her stances. Dainsleif kept a critical eye on them, noting how she did good. Slightly wobbly, but good posture.

"I assume you'll be staying for a while?" Kaeya asks, smirking at Dainsleif, who frowns. "No, I'll—"

"—yeah, yeah, don't even. Yes, or no?" Kaeya cuts through his words, a knowing look on his face. Dainsleif frowned. The smart answer is no. He needs to leave. But at the same time, he finds himself hesitant to leave. His gaze goes back to Soraya.

"If you want to stay... make sure she gets safely cared for, I understand." Kaeya smirked, gazing at Soraya with a fond smile. "I wouldn't mind the extra company." Dainsleif looked at Kaeya with a narrowed look. "What does that mean in this context?"

"Exactly what it does. I wouldn't mind having extra company. It can get so boring all by my lonesome~" He smirked, his shoulder touching Dainsleif's in a playful manner. But Dainsleif still sighed, ignoring his touch and said, "Sure... I'll stay. Temporarily."

Kaeya stopped, his smile fading. He looked surprised, but he didn't push further. Dainsleif didn't comment on his surprise. They both just stared at the other. Kaeya cleared his throat and looked away, "Well then... I'll be sure to prepare you some pillows and blanket..."

"I won't need them." Dainsleif says. Kaeya snorts weakly. "Right... you don't sleep. But you could relax." The word was so foreign. Relax. He hasn't in a long time. And what's most concerning, is that he's actually considering it. So he doesn't answer to Kaeya's words. Instead, he keeps his eyes on Soraya, and so does Kaeya.

Nothing wrong with... keeping an eye on the kid. After all, she's already attached to Dainsleif, and he should make sure she's safe. It's only fair, as the knight code dictates. He is now involved, and like any matter, he will take this seriously and make sure she's well provided for before leaving. Everyone wins.