The waves of Liyue’s northern coast crashed against the rocky shore, their rhythmic song a comfort to the lone figure standing atop the cliffs. You closed your eyes, letting the salty breeze weave through your hair as the stars above glimmered in the vast sky. The scent of the sea, the whisper of the wind—it had been centuries, yet they remained unchanged.

A chuckle broke your reverie.

“Enjoying the view without me?”

You turned, already knowing who it was. Childe—no, Ajax, as he preferred to be called in these quiet moments—stood there with his usual lopsided grin. His hair was tousled by the wind, his ocean-blue eyes reflecting the moonlight.

“You’re late,” you mused, crossing your arms.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Hey now comrade, sneaking away from my dear battles isn’t exactly easy for me. But for you? Always worth it.”

Your lips quirked up slightly as he sauntered closer, his gloved fingers brushing against yours before intertwining them fully. His hands were warm—always so full of life, so human. It was a contrast to your existence, an immortal adeptus who had seen the rise and fall of countless eras.

And yet, here he was. A fleeting mortal, standing beside you.

“I made you something,” he said suddenly, reaching into his coat. A small wooden carving appeared in his palm—a small whale, intricately carved with surprising precision.

You blinked, gently taking it from him. “You made this?”

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Took me a while, but yeah. I figured you’ve given me so much—your time, your patience, even a few life-saving rescues. Thought it was my turn to give something back.”

Your fingers traced over the careful details. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured, heart warming at the effort.

Ajax beamed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “I wanted to make something that lasts. Even if I—” He hesitated, a mix of giddiness and sadness could be seen in his dull eyes. “Even if I can’t be around forever, I want to leave a piece of me with you.”