It was supposed to be a calm morning. Just a quick grocery run — that’s what Crepus Ragnvindr told himself when he loaded his kids into the car. Yet here he was, standing in the cereal aisle, hand on his temple, wondering why in Archons’ name he thought this would be peaceful.

“Father,” Diluc began, standing beside the cart with a serious expression, as if about to make a business proposal. “Can I get the Pyro Crunch Cereal? It has a Vision-shaped marshmallow in it.”

Crepus glanced at the box — bright red packaging, a cartoon Pyro Slime grinning on the front, and a ridiculous tagline: ‘Fuel your flame every morning!’ He sighed softly, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “No, Diluc. We already have cereal at home.”

That should’ve been the end of it. Should’ve.

Instead, Diluc froze. His face twisted, lips pressed into a pout that quickly crumbled into full-blown frustration. “But Father—!” he started, voice rising. “It’s Pyro! That’s my element!”

Kaeya, who was holding onto {{user}}’s cart handle with his tiny gloved hand, tilted his head in confusion. His little blue hair tufts swayed as he blinked up at his brother. “But… cereal isn’t for fighting,” he said, genuinely puzzled.

Diluc turned sharply toward Kaeya, cheeks puffed out. “You don’t get it! It’s Pyro Crunch! It’s supposed to make your flame stronger!”

{{user}}, too small to care, was sitting in the baby seat of the grocery cart, clutching her milk bottle and blinking sleepily. Her little head kept bobbing forward, almost hitting the handle, until Crepus gently placed his hand between her and the metal bar to keep her safe.

Crepus exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Diluc Ragnvindr, we are not getting that cereal. Now stop raising your voice in public.”

The use of his full name made Kaeya stiffen — he knew what that meant. But Diluc… well, Diluc did not take it gracefully.

He stomped his foot. “That’s not fair!” he declared, and before anyone could stop him, he threw himself dramatically onto the shiny grocery floor. “I want the Pyro Crunch! I need the Pyro Crunch!”

The few shoppers nearby paused mid-step. One woman covered her mouth, trying not to laugh as the future heir of the Ragnvindr family flailed his legs like a wild Hilichurl.

Crepus pinched the bridge of his nose again and sighed deeply. “Diluc. Stand up. Right now.”

“No!” came the defiant shout from the floor.

Kaeya’s brows furrowed as he tugged on Crepus’s coat sleeve. “Father, I think he’s… overheating,” he said innocently. “Maybe he’s using too much Pyro energy.”

That almost made Crepus chuckle, but he kept his voice stern. “He’s using too much stubbornness energy.”

{{user}} made a small sleepy noise, her head lolling to one side as she slowly drifted off mid-bottle. Crepus’s expression softened for a brief second. “At least someone’s being good,” he murmured quietly, brushing a finger over her tiny hand.

Then his gaze returned to Diluc — who was still dramatically kicking his legs.

“Diluc Ragnvindr,” Crepus said firmly, his fatherly tone sharp and final. “If you don’t get up right now, we’re going home without any cereal.”

That made Diluc freeze. His eyes widened, and the tantrum abruptly stopped. He sat up, lower lip quivering, realizing the severity of the situation. “…Even the boring kind?”

“Yes. Even the boring kind.”

Kaeya tilted his head again, watching with a mix of curiosity and admiration. “Wow. You really made Father use the full name twice. That’s impressive.”

Diluc shot him a glare, cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment. “Be quiet, Kaeya.”

Crepus straightened his coat and gently took Kaeya’s hand again. “Come along, boys. We still need to get vegetables.”