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--
"Did you see the way that new superhero decked the interviewer in the face yesterday? That was hilarious."
"Who? Turntable?"
"It's Tartaglia. When will you get his name right, Osial?" Guizhong harrumphed, her nose scrunched in distaste.
"He's hardly super or new. He sounds young and cocky when his hero career is only eleven months old," Osial said.
"Well, he has every right to be cocky. Tartaglia is now one of the most powerful superheroes in Teyvat and graced with the abnormal ability to control water and electricity. A world-ranking superhero in less than a year. Imagine that," Guizhong said. Awe in her voice.
"His fans are deranged."
"And? Most fans everywhere are deranged."
"He named his weapons hydro blades, hydro bow, hydro spear, hydro whip-- you want to put the safety of our city in the hands of someone who named their weapons like that?"
"I've heard worse."
"Such as?"
"Dottore Mach V-brato LXIX by the ever eccentric yet reliable superhero, Dottore."
"...touché. But, I like La Signora better," Osial blandly stated without looking at Guizhong.
Guizhong gasped. "She hardly smiles and she speaks so bluntly and cruelly to the people around her. And La Signora hates curry! I love curry."
There was a small grin forming at the corner of Osial's lips. "Yes, but she's cool."
Guizhong gasped again, hands on her mouth, eyes a tad wide. "I-is that a pun? Is that a pun, Osial?"
Regardless of the disbelief in her tone, Guizhong sounded thoroughly invested and interested.
Guizhong was - as young people nowadays called it - a nerd when it came to these champions of the people. She collected comic books and figurines of her favorite superheroes despite being in her early thirties.
And Guizhong seemed to possess vast knowledge concerning most superheroes. Some of which were pointless, Zhongli thought. Who would be interested in a hero’s blood type?
Still, if one wished to know anything about these protectors of Teyvat, Guizhong would be the walking library to offer such a service.
Osial cackled. Perhaps finding her genuine love for the topic to be endearing. Finally, his eyes found Guizhong's, and his novel was momentarily forgotten as they began to exchange thundering topics about their own favored superheroes.
Zhongli sighed, massaging his temple.
They were fellow professors at one of the most prestigious universities in Teyvat and yet these two could be so immature sometimes. Especially during working hours.
Or maybe he was too uptight, as Venti would often point out.
But somehow Zhongli always liked that about his friends. So he let a small smile stretch wide as he quietly sipped his morning tea.
The cafeteria in the academy wasn't too crowded and though he preferred to eat outside, Zhongli wasn't too keen on being out there, in the bustling city. At least for now.
The monsters and the ever typical villains were getting a little bit too active lately. Perhaps it had something to do with the increasing numbers of heroes. Who knew.
Zhongli didn't want to get caught in the middle of the earth-shattering conflicts between these superheroes and their obsessive villains. Or to be trapped under rumbles. Or some such.
Usual stories of helpless civilians being one of the casualties of these ferocious battles were getting more common now.
One couldn't expect the heroes to be there all the time to save the day.
"Zhongli. Hey, hey, Zhongli!"
Zhongli breathed out. "Yes, Guizhong?"
"So what do you think of Tartaglia? Osial here thinks he's too much of a menace to be a superhero--"
"He's not super," Osial interjected lamely.
"--and I agree with this dork but, as you can see from most of his battles, Tartaglia fights really well. His blows are always precise! That's why he never loses."
"Not yet," Osial whispered.
Zhongli hummed. He gave some thoughts to that question. A hand propped under his chin.
"Oh no, he's doing the thinking pose," Osial groaned.
"He's doing the thinking pose," Guizhong gleefully added.
It took Zhongli quite a while before he answered her, having come to his conclusion.
"My deduction is substantially lacking for this individual but I did catch a few clips of his previous fights on the screen sometimes and I must say, Guizhong was right. His attacks are precise and he can be terrifyingly ruthless and swift, especially with his conjured hydro arsenals. However--"
"This is your fault. He's going to prattle now," Osial accused Guizhong. The woman smiled sweetly.
They continued rambling on. Moments passed.
Havria passed by their table in a hurry. A small and beloved professor here in the academy. Tsaritsa scowled as she stared at her watch. A curse under her breath. A strict professor.
In the distance, Zhongli saw Xiao scolding the loitering students again and Zhongli had to chuckle at the precious sight.
It was a good day.
--
"Childe, can you wait here after class? I need to speak with you."
"Again, mister Zhongli?" Childe blinked at him. Unsure. The glasses were too big for his face but for some strange reasons, it didn't look out of place. He wore a blue baggy sweatshirt again today.
Childe fiddled with his fingers, mouth curled into a tiny smile. He looked bashful. Yet Childe only ever exhibited the light shyness and the acquiescent manner whenever Zhongli was around.
Zhongli didn't notice it at first until he finally did.
With other people, Childe seemed more forward. Undaunted.
His students used to hesitantly inform Zhongli that 'Childe only behaves and acts sweet around you, mister Zhongli.'
Now, most of his students kept their thoughts about Childe to themselves.
Zhongli disagreed with them, of course. He knew Childe well enough by now.
That young student of his had been in his class for quite a few years, repeating the same history course, and seemingly failing his exams again and again.
Odd, since Childe seemed to excel in other subjects. Perfect scores and everything. Without even trying, Guizhong would say. Someone like that couldn't possibly be failing his history course quite so terribly. Zhongli was worried for him.
Childe could drop out at any time from his class and yet he didn't. Stubborn and adamant to succeed. Such a weird boy. But a pleasant one nonetheless.
Zhongli kindly smiled at Childe.
He could feel the other students in his class peering at them. Or just peering at him specifically. Sometimes he felt those sneaky eyes lingered a little lower to his rear. Well, it was fine. Staring was harmless anyway. Zhongli always let them be.
Childe looked up, his eyes flickered over Zhongli's shoulder. His gaze was hidden behind his glasses. Zhongli didn't catch Childe's eyes in time but he felt a sudden coldness and a choking pressure in the air.
Muffled yelps came from behind him as if someone was caught doing something they shouldn't.
Then the constrictive atmosphere was gone just as quickly. Childe was gazing at Zhongli again with a shy smile brightening his face. The peculiarity was forgotten.
Zhongli could no longer feel eyes on his back.
"Of course, mister Zhongli. I'll stay," Childe answered obediently. Zhongli nodded at him.
Zhongli felt Childe's eyes on him during the duration of the class.
Just like always.
--
"You didn't do so well with the previous project, Childe. And your presentation from days ago was, I'm sorry to say this, a bit lacking."
"Oh sorry," Childe said, not sounding sorry at all. There were sparks in his eyes despite the demure air he emitted.
Childe fiddled with his fingers, fixing his glasses and his messy hair; those orange locks draping the crown of his forehead.
"Childe," Zhongli chastised. Childe's shoulders hunched. "I am concerned for you and I'm not saying this only for the sake of saying it. You are aware, correct?"
Those sky-blue eyes lightened. Zhongli was always taken aback every time Childe stared at him with that soft, gentle gaze. Like Zhongli was someone so fiercely cherished.
He wondered what it meant.
"I know, mister Zhongli. You're always too kind," Childe murmured and then added, "Don't worry. I'll do better next time."
Zhongli chuckled. "I've heard that coming from you too many times by now."
The twinkle in Childe's eyes emboldened. "Perhaps you'll be hearing more of it, Xiansheng."
--
The first time Zhongli met Tartaglia in person, it was only naught but a brief moment.
Or perhaps it wasn't really a meeting, only a fleeting glance.
It was pouring when Zhongli was making his way towards the nearest bus stop. He hadn't wanted to use his car today, deciding to use public transportation instead.
But now Zhongli was starting to regret his decision. Why did it have to rain today? Why not tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow?
Thunders rumbled. Zhongli sighed. The bus stop seemed still so far away despite how fast he was sprinting.
The rain ceased. Or not really. Zhongli stood still, glancing up at the murky sky. The rain poured down in a torrent, never stopping, and yet none of the droplets fell on him. He was inside a small invisible dome of a sort, protecting him from the rainfall.
Zhongli searched his surroundings for something awry - only for those amber eyes to find Tartaglia standing across the road, facing him. The young superhero raised one hand in the air.
Water. One of the two elements the superhero could manipulate.
He wondered what Tartaglia was doing here.
Zhongli couldn't see the superhero's expression under the red mask but the man offered him a nod, his head turning towards the nearest bus stop not too far away from Zhongli.
He knew what the silent signal meant.
Zhongli smiled at the superhero - certain the other couldn't probably see it - before he began running towards the shelter. Not a droplet touched him.
Tartaglia kept the rain from kissing his skin.
Zhongli reached the shelter. No one was there except for him and so Zhongli turned around to at least acknowledge the superhero. Tartaglia did conjure an invisible barrier for him, after all.
But by the time Zhongli turned around, Tartaglia was nowhere to be seen.
--
"Am I too strict?" Zhongli asked Tsaritsa.
The woman raised a brow at him, waiting for Zhongli to continue.
Zhongli cleared his throat. "I mean, most of my students don't approach me as… genially as Guizhong's students approach her. Or how Osial's students approach him. Even Xiao's as well. Perhaps they're afraid of me? It's hard to communicate or to assist them if they're too wary of me. Though, Childe is at least amiable and open with me," he drawled.
Tsaritsa rolled her eyes. "You're a blind fool is what you are, Zhongli. The students in your class are not wary of you. They are wary of that bizarre student of yours."
Zhongli blinked. "Which student?"
Tsaritsa huffed. "Childe, of course. There's always something off about him."
Huh. Ridiculous. Tsaritsa was wrong. Childe was harmless. A very good young man.
Besides, even if that was true, he couldn't comprehend the correlation between his students being cautious of him and them being afraid of Childe.
It didn't make any sense.
Tsaritsa must have noticed his confusion. She rolled her eyes. Again.
"I'm not getting involved in this," was all she said to herself.
Well, okay then.
--
"No, Zhongli, don't drink that!" Venti slapped his hand, sending Zhongli's bubble tea skittering to the asphalted path below.
Zhongli gasped, mourning his expensive drink. He would have been on his knees, crying over the lost treasure if he wasn't in public. His bubble tea. Lost forever.
Zhongli glared at his friend.
"Why would you do that? I bought that drink with my own mora."
Venti wiggled his finger in Zhongli's face. His eyes were determined.
"I read your horoscope for this week!"
"...what?"
"Yep. It says that if you drink a sweet beverage in a crowded space, an omen shall befall you. I'm just being a very good friend to you," Venti explained eagerly.
Zhongli slowly ran his hand over his face. He breathed out. In. And out. Lest he started lashing out at Venti. Again.
"Venti."
"Hmm?"
"For your sake, don't ever do that again."
Venti's face puckered. "Why are you so ungrateful?"
"Why are you so vexatious?"
"Vexatious, he said. Urgh. Just say annoying, you tasteless ass," Venti grumbled.
Zhongli pinched Venti's cheek. Hard. The shorter man screeched, rubbing the reddened skin once Zhongli let him go.
He was about to say something more when someone screamed, "watch out!" at them. Followed by a strong wind that almost sent him and Venti flying.
Milliseconds later, a thrown car came barreling towards them. It missed Zhongli by several meters, colliding exactly onto the cafe he and Venti just left.
The car's trunk was lodged into the shop. The wheels were still turning. Fire licked the ruined vehicle.
People shrieked.
Zhongli looked at Venti. Venti looked at Zhongli.
"See? What the horoscope says," Venti reminded him.
A superhero strut towards them. The large straw hat and the intricate ornamented-mask covering his face gave away the man's alias. Scaramouche. One of the famous superheroes.
He put his hands on his hips, sighing. "Don't just stand there. Run. Get to safety, idiots. I can't focus pummeling the bad guy when I have to worry about you two nincompoops."
"Right. Okay. Come, Venti." Zhongli pulled his friend with him.
"Wait, Scaramouche! Can I have your autograph?" Venti questioned loudly.
The superhero ignored him. Scaramouche resumed clashing with his foe, a berserk tall golem.
Zhongli should have stayed at home.
--
Zhongli just wanted to buy eggs.
But the convenience store was on fire. The dairy aisle was on fire. The eggs were on fire.
A pack of flaming feline beasts was on the loose in the large store. Some of the monsters were blocking the exits, making sure no humans could leave.
Zhongli huffed. This was not how he wanted his Sunday morning to be.
Naturally, a superhero came to save the day.
"Get away from the walls," a foreign voice instructed. People dispersed.
Soon, a burst of an explosion boomed in the store. There was a large hole where the walls used to be.
People's eyes found the superhero who landed gracefully on his feet. Pantalone. The strongest superhero to ever walk in Teyvat.
He gestured at the makeshift exit with his chin.
"Leave," Pantalone commanded. Everyone followed his order.
What a way to start his afternoon.
Zhongli would settle with steamed vermicelli rolls for tonight's dinner. No more eggs hunting for today.
--
"Are you dating anyone, Tartaglia?"
"That's personal." Tartaglia responded coldly. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here with the meddling reporter and his cameraman.
Guizhong laughed, biting a dumpling whilst watching the news. She nestled herself between Osial and Zhongli on the small couch, purposely siphoning their heat.
Osial yawned, tired. Zhongli pursed his lips, mirroring Osial's lack of energy. It was getting late and he had an early class to teach tomorrow.
"He's so curt with everyone. It's funny to see," Guizhong stated. Zhongli only nodded. Osial already fell asleep.
"Oh." The reporter blinked. "Surely you can share a little tidbit of your personal life, yes? There must be something else other than killing and torturing your opponents, right?"
"What a creep," Guizhong accused. Zhongli silently agreed with her.
Tartaglia watched the reporter for a long, long, long while before, at last, he let out a dangerous smile.
"Sure do. I'm in love with the most beautiful man alive. Dense. But selflessly kind and patient. Nothing in this world can be more important to me than his life. He's my whole heart," Tartaglia answered.
There was a singsong tune to his voice, which made it difficult to determine whether the young superhero was lying or not. Not that it mattered to Zhongli.
"Really?" The reporter questioned, eyes suddenly hungered for more information.
Tartaglia's smile grew wild. "Really?" He repeated playfully.
Guizhong narrowed her eyes. "Wait. So did he make up the story or not?"
Zhongli didn't really care. Fabricated or not, the story had nothing to do with him.
-
Zhongli jinxed himself when he told Xiao 'the chances of an abnormality attacking the public library was immensely low' because - in less than five minutes after saying those cursed words - that precisely what was happening right now.
The world shuddered from the piercing groans resonating in the air. People were shouting at everyone to evacuate.
"What the fuck," Xiao said.
Zhongli made a quick grab for Xiao's arm and carefully led his friend towards the exit.
Whatever the monster was, it was colossal. Slow. Its weight shook the ground every time it stomped its massive body to the earth, raining its endless barrage upon the cracking building.
He couldn't get a clear view of the creature.
If they didn't leave now, the arches atop them would collapse and they'd be trapped under the rubbles. Or worse.
Zhongli could hear Xiao yelling something at him, tugging his arm but Zhongli couldn't hear the echo of Xiao's demands amidst the monster's overwhelming roars and snarls.
"Zhongli! Zhongli, stop!" Xiao screamed out. Zhongli didn't stop.
That was until Xiao finally pulled his hand away from the caging grip. Zhongli's feet came to a halt, horror marred his face as he watched Xiao running towards a--
--a trapped woman under a large shelf. Her voice was weak, flailing helplessly, calling out feebly for help. Zhongli didn't hesitate. He ran towards his kneeling friend and clutched the woman's hand.
She trembled.
"It's all right. We'll help you," he tried to soothe her. The lady only sobbed harder. Xiao was already attempting to remove the shelf from her.
Zhongli assisted him hastily, putting all the strength of his muscles into the pressure of his arms.
"It's too heavy!" Xiao lamented. The monster rumbled. It sounded so close. The place was almost vacant. No one else would stop to offer help.
"Push harder," Zhongli calmly instructed despite the fear gnawing at his chest. They either succeeded or they died here.
The shelf moved. They pushed again, once, twice, thrice.
There was a loud creak as the oak bookshelf was pushed upright, they held it long enough for the woman to crawl out.
Once they were sure she was safe, Zhongli and Xiao released the painful hold on the heavy burden. It crashed to the floor, banging loudly on the ruined ground.
"Come on. Hurry," Zhongli ordered. His voice was hushed. Worried the creature might see them now that the monster's snarls were getting closer and closer.
Everything trembled violently. The ceilings fractured and some of the large beams fell, hurling down towards them.
No. They couldn't avoid that in time.
Zhongli reached out and curled his arms around the woman and Xiao, his last attempt to shield them from the impending end.
"Zhongli!" Xiao protested.
He closed his eyes, waiting.
And waiting.
Nothing happened.
"Those were shitty moves, not gonna lie. Tentacles attack? Menacing roars? Throwing debris at me? Meh. Do better or you'll bore me," a snarky voice snapped.
In retaliation, the monster bellowed.
"Zhongli, look," Xiao whispered next to him. Zhongli opened his eyes. The woman still trembled in his arms.
Zhongli glanced up to see a shield of water cascading overhead them like a wall, hovering harmlessly in the air. The descending beams were shredded into pieces, wrapped in a ball of water.
The remains then were haphazardly thrown far away by the superhero standing before them. Almost flicking it easily to his right. The scattered rubbles smashed onto the ruined surface.
Tartaglia.
Zhongli knew that red mask and the long red scarf fluttering in the breeze.
The superhero tightened the black gloves he wore. Mockingly jutting his hips.
The wall of water around them finally dematerialized. The droplets evaporated like a puff of smog.
With his back against them, Tartaglia cackled with a prominent hint of twisted joy in his voice. As if he was itching to hurt.
Right above them, the monster let out a loud cry of dissatisfied grunts, its tentacles sprouted from behind its back, shooting towards Tartaglia.
Tartaglia casually leaped forward. Within his hands, he summoned two hydro blades and cut down the appendages with mortifying ease.
He twirled ever so carelessly in the air. Gravity couldn't hold him down. He let a peal of joyful laughter when splotches of the beast's blood smeared him.
The young superhero was clearly playing with his opponent.
Tartaglia truly earned his title as the most bloodthirsty superhero.
"We need to leave now," Zhongli said to his friend. Xiao nodded.
"Yeah, while that crazy bastard is keeping the monster company."
The woman was still too quiet. Eyes wide as she stared at Tartaglia and the eldritch horror. And then she screamed when an oversized severed appendage fell not far from their position. It gained the monster's attention.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Xiao groaned. Zhongli couldn't agree more.
It bellowed. One of the many tendrils spiking right towards them.
Once again, Zhongli hastily stood in front of Xiao and the woman, ready to take the blow even though he knew damn well it wouldn't be sufficient.
However, just like before, the attack didn't come.
Tartaglia easily blocked the thrust. This time with a hydro halberd, making a tsk-ing sound under his breath.
"Just focus on me, you slimy shit. How the hell am I supposed to have fun here if you keep aiming for these fucking weak civilians--"
Tartaglia glanced at them. The sharp grin under his mask quickly diminished and Zhongli could see those… sea blue eyes... zeroed on him instantly. Surprise etched in those eyes.
"Xians--" Tartaglia started. He stopped halfway. Mouth slightly parted.
Fury immediately rippled around Tartaglia when he shifted his glare at his enormous opponent, raw and savage. He snarled, pushing back his foe with barely any effort.
Water and electricity crackled, bending and slowly drifting, curling all around Tartaglia. A wave of water formed under his feet as electricity encompassed him, climbing up to his limbs without harming the superhero.
"You dare?" Tartaglia growled. The beast bellowed.
The two elements merged into one and soon it covered Tartaglia's whole body.
Xiao pulled them away quickly. The woman was already sprinting ahead.
"Come on, let's go!" Xiao yelled.
Zhongli didn't need to be told twice. He spared a glance over his shoulder.
Tartaglia peered at him one last time before his body began to change shape.
The last thing Zhongli saw was a hulking figure wrapped in a dark, heavenly cloak. As if the universe was living in it.
--
"That was scary," Xiao said blandly. Nearly an hour passed after everything had finally calmed down.
They were wrapped in blankets, sitting on a pavement. The medics went about checking up on everyone and asking them personal inquiries. Including Zhongli and Xiao.
The monster was… well. It was dust now. Nothing was left behind after it suffered Tartaglia's sudden rage. It was such an odd thing to witness.
Zhongli couldn't tell what had caused the fury.
Afterward, Tartaglia left, ignoring people's cheers.
It was probably Zhongli's imagination but it was as if Tartaglia was searching the crowd, looking for someone before he finally relented and left once the flashes of cameras became too much for him.
"Guess we owe the crazy bastard for saving our lives, huh?" Xiao sniffed.
Zhongli chuckled. "His name is Tartaglia, Xiao."
"His codename, you mean? Tartaglia. Who even chose that as their superhero alias?" Xiao nagged. Zhongli let him be. It was Xiao's way of showing appreciation for the hero that had saved them.
Xiao was never good with soft words.
In the distance, the woman they helped came running towards them, bowing at the waist, and thanking them again and again.
Zhongli only gave her a tired smile.
He hated tentacles. After today, never again. No more tentacles in his life ever.
--
Zhongli went home alone that night. He offered to accompany Xiao after such a traumatizing and long evening but his friend insisted he was doing well and that Zhongli should put himself first.
Go rest. Just call me if you need anything, Xiao said.
The fatigue weighed too much on his bones for Zhongli to deny it.
He stood in front of the door to his home. His phone kept vibrating so Zhongli turned it off for now. He didn't doubt Guizhong and Osial already found out what transpired today.
It was all over the news after all.
Zhongli unlocked the door and was about to enter his humble abode when a voice made him flinch.
"Uhh, hello?"
Zhongli breathed heavily. Inhaled. Exhaled. Eventually, he shifted on his heels to study the newcomer from under his bangs.
His body ached.
"Sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to scare you," the voice sheepishly assured.
Zhongli only stared at the man standing awkwardly.
Tartaglia. What was he doing here?
Gone was the sheer boldness and the indisputable bloodlust from before. Now, before Zhongli was a man with a hunched figure, fingers twiddling together in an obvious uncertainty.
Zhongli blinked.
Now, where had he seen that habit before?
"Am I bothering… you?" Tartaglia questioned. His red mask was like crystallized blood.
From here, Zhongli couldn't catch his eyes so clearly.
He shook his head and let out a small, weary smile.
"No, Tartaglia. I-it's fine. I was just… that… sorry. It's been a long day. I'm not a hero so what happened today wasn't really… a normal occurrence, you see. And. Ah. Thank you. Truly. My friend and I wouldn't be here without you," Zhongli confessed sincerely.
His legs were going to give out on him. Zhongli held on steadfastly. Though Tartaglia's presence was unexpected, odd, and unusual - he couldn't just brush his savior away.
"May I ask why are you here?"
Tartaglia didn't give him an answer.
Zhongli wanted to know how Tartaglia knew he lived here. Did he follow him home? Perhaps. That was the most likely scenario.
Why did he single him out among the rest of the survivors? Or did Tartaglia visit the others as well?
So many questions.
Still.
It was unnecessary to question the superhero. This was definitely the last time they'd be seeing each other anyway.
"You look tired, Xians-- you look tired," Tartaglia sounded strained as he made hasty steps towards Zhongli.
Soon, his savior was standing in front of Zhongli, observing his face with a fierce intensity. Zhongli wanted to take a few steps back. He didn't.
"I am fine now," he replied.
"Are you sure?"
Zhongli opened his mouth, only to quickly close it when Tartaglia's hand cupped his cheek, brushing his thumb under Zhongli's eye with such pure softness, delicately and ardently, like he wanted to imprint the feel of Zhongli's heat into his skin.
Such a strange person. Tartaglia fought like a madman. No traces of kindness in his relentless assault.
Yet now, Tartaglia was so carefully tender with Zhongli.
He swayed a bit. Almost reaching his limits. His bones were naught but dust beneath his feet. Tired.
Tartaglia seemed to notice his sway. He quickly but gingerly wrapped his arm around Zhongli's waist to steady him.
"Careful," Tartaglia muttered.
In retaliation, Zhongli stretched his hand out to brush his fingers through the choppy orange hair.
Tartaglia went still.
"Your hair reminds me of someone," Zhongli murmured.
"...who?" Tartaglia asked in a hushed voice.
"A student of mine." Zhongli chuckled. His thoughts muddled. "Childe. He's a good boy, you know? He's kind, I know it. Even if people around me keep saying otherwise. I wish him joy, always. I hope he knows it."
Behind the mask, Zhongli could detect the shape of a tiny smile on Tartaglia's lips.
That metalwork mask didn't hide the glow of cerulean eyes and the contour of his lips.
"I'm sure he knows," Tartaglia whispered reverently. He took Zhongli's hand in his, brushing his gloved fingers across the smooth skin.
Tartaglia sank one-knee to the floor before he chastely kissed the back of Zhongli's hand.
The kiss was like a butterfly. A hovering kindliness, temporary and transient. Tartaglia's eyes were tender, warm-hearted, and the stars lived inside them.
Why would the superhero look at him like that?
Zhongli could only watch wordlessly, unsure of how to react to such a warm gesture.
He didn't need to say anything at all when a sudden chime came from Tartaglia. He huffed, gently releasing Zhongli’s hand.
The masked superhero stood up to pull a strange device from one of his front pockets. He observed the object for a moment, fingers scrolling through the bright screen, eyes narrowing.
“Is something wrong?” Zhongli discreetly asked. Tartaglia beamed, inspecting Zhongli intently. He tucked the device away.
“Yeah. An emergency and apparently, I’m the closest one to get there,” Tartaglia answered courteously.
“Oh,” was all Zhongli could offer.
Tartaglia grinned. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then.” He backed away gradually, still gazing at Zhongli as he took every step away from him.
Zhongli hummed. “I doubt it.”
Tartaglia chuckled. A timbre of a vibrant sound. “Doubt all you want, lyubimy. I’m always good at proving people wrong.”
Lyubimy?
Tartaglia turned away and quickly took his leave until even his silhouette was taken by the shadows.
Everything that happened today felt like a dream to Zhongli.
--
"Mister Zhongli? Mister Zhongli? Xiansheng?" Childe called out.
Zhongli let out a small 'ah'. He looked apologetically at his student. "Forgive me, Childe. My mind wandered elsewhere," he explained.
The cafe was packed. Zhongli was glad he picked the corner booth. A suitable and comfortable little spot for him to discuss history lessons with Childe.
His student had specifically asked for private tutoring and Zhongli had readily consented to help him, seeing no cause to reject Childe's request. Anything to help his students flourish in this world.
Childe pushed his large glasses up to his nose, smiling to himself. Yet that smile disappeared when he followed the professor’s line of sight.
Zhongli was watching the television mounted on the wall. The news showed another one of Tartaglia's acts. It was a record from yesterday's event where Tartaglia had killed another one of those flashy villains.
Somehow, the newscaster worded it as if Tartaglia was naught but a monster for being so callous and unmerciful with his enemies. The media always tried to portray Tartaglia as a cruel and maddening soul.
The title remained on the hero like a second skin.
"You think Tartaglia is a monster, too, xiansheng?" Childe asked. He was smiling but there was a guarded look in his eyes.
Zhongli shook his head.
"No. They're wrong about him. Tartaglia is… very tender. And very kind. The masses will not shift my opinions about him. He is good, I know it," Zhongli admitted calmly.
And Childe? Childe smiled so blindingly bright at Zhongli, fondness pouring out from him. Stars and seas reflected in those seafoam blue eyes when they landed on Zhongli, watching him like he was the most precious secret in the world.
A familiar tender gaze. Huh.
Now, where had Zhongli seen such a similar look before?
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