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The people of Liyue hate Tartaglia, the 11th of the Fatui Harbingers, this much he knows. He would be surprised if they didn't, seeing as he nearly destroyed their city.
The people of Fontaine also dislike Tartaglia, the 11th of the Fatui Harbingers, this, he didn't know. He was surprised to see just how many faces started back at him with contempt, disgust even, when he was put on trial.
It shocked him, even when he knew he shouldn't be shocked. Many in Teyvat were not fond of the Fatui, less so of the Harbingers. He supposes the shock of being widely hated by the people of a nation he'd never been to before had caught him off guard.
The traveller is not fond of Tartaglia, the 11th of the Fatui Harbingers, hates him, even. They like Childe though, the version of him he presents to those he likes, the cocky, charming guy that you can't help but find interesting. The traveller doesn't know Ajax.
Nobody does.
Not even Zhon- Morax. Not even Morax knows Ajax.
Morax.
He doesn't like Tartaglia, much like everyone else in Teyvat. He's fond of Childe, and Ajax had hoped that one day he'd become fond of Ajax.
Ajax doesn't think that will ever happen now, not after everything; not after he began avoiding Liyue, and by extension Zh- Morax.
Ajax sometimes wishes people could get to know him, to get to know Ajax, not Childe, not Tartaglia; Ajax.
Yet, everywhere he goes, he represents the Tsaritsa, as a Fatui soldier, as a Harbinger; at best, he can only ever be Childe, the playful, fight-hungry guy with infinite mora to spend.
He can never be Ajax, not to anyone but himself.
"Um, Mr Tartaglia?"
Childe turns around, turning to face the young man who spoke. He's younger than he is, and stands nervously, likely in fear of being in front of a Harbinger. He plasters a friendly smile on his face, hoping to reassure the boy.
"Did you need something?" He asks, sitting up straight.
The boy reaches into his pocket, fishing out a letter and holding it out for Childe to take.
"This is for you, from Mr Pantalone." The boy mumbles.
Childe thanks him, dismissing him soon after with a wave of his hand.
Tartaglia,
I am having some issues coming to an agreement with the Feiyun Commerce Guild in regards to the Northland Bank's building rental. Seeing as you're the Harbinger closest to Liyue currently, see to it that this issue is resolved.
Pantalone.
Childe scowls at the paper, mentally cursing Pantalone. Of course the man would send Childe to Liyue; it had nothing to do with whether he was closest or not, and everything to do with him being the youngest and therefore the most expendable. A play on his emotions, the ones he fals to hide from the other Harbingers.
Scratching the back of his head, he stands up, making his way towards his room. He's currently in Mondstadt. Officially, he's checking on things to make sure that everything is going as the Tsaritsa wants. Unofficially, he's here on vacation, or at least, he was meant to be; he'd gone out earlier in the week, free of his Harbinger uniform and dressed in casual clothing, exploring the city and letting himself be Ajax.
Now he needs to be Tartaglia.
Once inside, he begins packing his belongings, as little as they are. He never does bring much with him, preferring to pack light in case he needs a hasty retreat. However, with each time he packs less, he feels more of Ajax begin slipping away.
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He decides to go by boat.
The road is risky and presents to many unknown variables. At least by boat, he's taken the route plenty of times before, he knows what to expect; certainly not because going by boat takes longer, giving him time to think.
And think he does. He sits on deck, feet resting against the railing, a book on his lap that he hasn't been reading for at least 2 hours. He was told it would take 3 more days to reach Liyue. Part of him wishes it would take longer, but he keeps that part silenced.
His eyes roam over the sea, watching as the waves ripple. The colour is a bright blue, clear enough that he can see the fish in the water, even from where he sits, leaning back against some crates. The fish are all different colours and shapes, swimming below the water, not a care in the world he reckons.
It's beautiful.
But with it comes a reminder, of what he did- of what Tartaglia did.
Ajax wouldn't have done what Tartaglia did to the people of Liyue, that's what he thinks at least. Ajax loves to fight, loves the thrill of facing against a strong opponent, he loves it as much as Tartaglia does, but Ajax wouldn't have been so cruel as to nearly destroy the Liyue Harbour.
Or maybe that's just what he tells himself, to absolve himself of the guilt, to brush off the stares of hatred and disdain. Pretending that Tartaglia, Childe and Ajax are all different people, with different thoughts, knowing that he's all of them, at once, all the time.
He let's out an exhale, rubbing at his temples. It's all confusing, having 3 names, grappling with his identity, with who he is. Sometimes, he thinks that maybe he doesn't know who he is. Maybe Ajax died in the abyss 10 years ago. Maybe he's always been Tartaglia and Ajax's death was what revealed his true name.
Regardless, he did it, Tartaglia, Childe, Ajax, whoever he is, he did it. He released Osial, nearly destroyed Liyue, then pushed away the one person who didn't condemn him for being.
Morax.
He's no longer Zhongli to him; Ajax wonders if Zhongli ever even existed. Were all those days they'd spend at Yansheng teahouse a lie? The times that Zongli, that Morax would spend telling him stories about Liyue a lie?
Ajax's mind wonders to the chopsticks he carries with him on every travel. Although he bought them for himself on Zhongli's Morax's behalf, he still regards them as a gift; if anyone were to ask, they're his favourite gift from anyone. He'd considered throwing them away after Morax revealed himself but decided against it; they cost too much to simply get thrown away — and they were too beautiful.
He shouldn't be bitter still, so much time has passed since the Osial incident, since everything went down between them on that fateful day, but he can't help it. Ajax liked Zhongli; he liked his warm smile, the way he'd wistfully talk about Liyue, as if he'd been there for its beginning — which it turns out he had — he liked how forgetful he was, the sheepish look on his face every time he'd tell Ajax that he had forgotten his mora pouch.
Ajax liked Zhongli.
Childe liked Zhongli.
Zhongli liked Childe.
Ajax doesn't know Morax, neither does Childe.
Officially, Childe is on good terms with Zhongli; they meet for drinks and food, catching each other up on their lives.
Unofficially, Ajax is still hurt, He knows he doesn't deserve to be; he's not a good person, he won't pretend that he is, but he's still hurt. An ache in his heart that still hasn't gone away, he doesn't think it will.
He'd wanted to show Zhongli who Ajax was, not Tartaglia, not Childe.
Ajax.
Childe stands up, the air is getting chilly, and he could see some of the recruits watching him with curiosity. He doesn't need them talking, spreading rumours about him being distracted or anything of the sort, the Tsaritsa wouldn't be happy.
Inside his cabin, he sits at his desk, assuming the same position he'd had back on the deck; this time with his legs upon his desk.
He won't lie to himself, he doesn't want to go to Liyue, not just because of Zhongli, but because of the people. He doesn't want to confront the looks of hatred across their faces; he'd fared plenty of them before his departure from Liyue all that long ago.
Childe doesn't usually feel guilt for what he's done; he does it as a part of his duty, to Snezhnaya, to the Tsaritsa. Yet this time, he feels guilt, he feels his skin crawl and his body itch whenever he thinks about returning to Liyue; he feels lumps in his throat and heat behind his collar.
Guilt isn't something he's felt for a long while, not since he'd been young, a small boy who hoped to explore the world, like the heroes in the stories Da would tell. Ajax would feel guilt when he kept a secret from his parents, or when he'd be in trouble for something he knew was wrong. Ajax had so many emotions, so many feelings that he could barely name.
Then he fell into the abyss, joined the Fatui, and became Tartaglia, 11th of the Fatui Harbingers.
Tartaglia has no emotions.
Childe does, but not guilt, never guilt.
So why does his chest squeeze every time he's faced with the people of Liyue?
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Ah, that's why.
Childe walks along the docks of the harbour, making his way towards Feiyun slope, where his mission from Pantalone awaits.
He's getting looks as he walks by, dock workers giving him sneers. Ordinary citizens giving him the stink eye. Parents pull their children in close, keeping him at a distance, shielding their eyes.
And if he's reminded of Teucer, he thinks nothing of it.
It remains like that for the entire walk to Feiyun slope, his chest getting tighter each time he walks past someone. Even Xiangling looks at him warily, and doesn't that hurt. Childe had thought things were alright between them; but he supposes he can't blame her, he can't blame any of them. He'd feel the same way too.
He's almost to the bank when Childe sees him.
Walking out of Liuli Pavilion, a steady pace to his walk, Morax, Zhongli, whoever he is now. He wears his usual clothes, well groomed, elegant, not a hair out of place. Childe imagines he'd been telling some of his stories to those inside, if his easygoing smile is anything to go by.
Childe should say something, they are technically on good terms now, Childe has forgiven Zhongli for lying to him, everything is fine.
Ajax hasn't forgiven him, his emotions still worn on his sleeve, as they had been before he fell.
He looks down, avoiding eye contact and wishing himself to become smaller, Childe can't face him; certainly not with the disdainful eyes of the Liyuen people.
Childe all but runs into the bank, letting out a shaky breath and only just keeping himself from slumping against the door. He mumbles a quick greeting to Ekaterina before making a beeline to his office, where everything remains as it had been before he left.
At his desk, he finally slumps down, letting his shoulders droop and his smile fall.
Everything is fine.