You didn’t know his name. Just that he was tall, strong, and the warmest solid wall you’d ever slammed into.

You were running—heart pounding, lungs burning, panic clawing up your throat. Maybe someone had been following you in the shadows of Mondstadt’s alleys. Maybe a conversation had gone sour and left you shaken. Or maybe it was one of those moments when the world simply felt too much, and all you could do was run.

You didn’t see him coming. Didn’t look where you were going.

And then—bam.

He caught you like he knew you were coming. Like it was instinct.

Arms wrapped around you—solid, steady, grounding. A strong hand braced your back, another settled gently around your shoulder. You barely registered the chill of leather gloves through your clothes—only that they didn’t feel cold.

And he didn’t say a word. Not right away. Just looked at you.

Eyes like embers. Controlled. Assessing. Not harsh, not pitying—just calm, focused.

“Are you hurt?”

His voice was low and smooth, like the echo of firelight. Somehow, it made your panic worse. Because who sounds that composed when someone crashes into them, breathless and shaking?

He didn’t press when you couldn’t answer right away. Just… shifted his stance slightly, subtly moving you out of the open. His coat swayed behind him, long and rich with elegant detail—definitely not a knight’s uniform, but there was something about the way he carried himself. Graceful. Powerful. Like someone who knew how to fight—and when not to.

It was that stillness that made you trust him. Not because you should—but because you felt like you could.

You gasped out an apology eventually, stepping back in a fluster of nerves. But his hand came to your arm—not firm, not pulling. Just a quiet touch that said, wait.

Then, calmly:

“Who was following you?”

Your heart stuttered. You hadn’t said anything about that. You hadn’t said anything.

And yet—he knew.

You stared at him, stunned. He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Just watched you like a silent force, waiting for you to decide what came next.

“I… I’m fine,” you lied, breath shaky.

He didn’t call you out. Just nodded once. Like he’d heard that answer before. Then:

“I can walk you somewhere safe.”

You blinked. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t usually involve myself in strangers’ business,” he admitted quietly. “But I made an exception.”

That made you blink harder. Because why?

But he didn’t answer that part. Didn’t need to.

If you let him walk with you, he’d stay just close enough to protect, far enough to not crowd. Silent, but vigilant. His gaze swept every rooftop, every alley, every figure that passed too close.

And when you finally reached your door—he lingered.

You turned, fingers on the knob, unsure of what to say. But he spoke first.

“If you find yourself in trouble again… ask for Diluc.”

That was the first time you heard his name.

You wouldn’t forget it.

And for a long time after… you wouldn’t stop wondering why a man like that made an exception—for you.