Second Lead Syndrome || Diluc R. x Reader

The Adults are Talking

Y/N's eyes open as if she had merely blinked. Where am I? Y/N glances around, but it's far too dark to see anything. She looks down at herself, unable to see her own body in the pitch blackness. How did I get here? What was I doing? Y/N can no longer remember whether she had opened her eyes a few moments ago or she just imagined it.

Her ears pick up on distant sounds. Voices? Music? Or just senseless noise? Y/N can't tell. She turns around and her eyes are met by blinding rays of sunlight. She squints as she tries to focus on the scene before her. A room? No, a kitchen. The kitchen in my old house. Y/N recognizes the large room lined with stone counters and a sink with a metal faucet that reflects the sunlight from the window above. At the wooden table on the opposite side of the room, sits two girls- one much older and the other barely ten years old.

Then, more people appear around the two girls. Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. All clad in the all-too-familiar purple and black uniform. Their masked faces sport smiles as they gaze down at the older girl and converse animatedly amongst each other. Y/N can't make out what they're saying, but she can tell that they're praising the older girl.

The younger girl taps on her sister's shoulder which gains the attention of all the adults in the room. They flash the child a look of pity as their smiles falter. The younger girl's face slowly falls as they all turn their attention away from her again.

Y/N blinks and in a flash, there she is, sitting at the table. The table is filled with people, but harbours a deep sense of loneliness. Y/N's eyes flicker to a plain white cake in front of her with ten colourful birthday candles lit above it. The candles must have been burning for a while as the multicoloured drops of wax drip down onto the cake, like paint on a fresh white canvas. Whose birthday is it? Y/N examines the neglected vanilla cake, though a voice in the back of her mind knows it's hers.

Seeing the adults paying no mind to the birthday girl, Y/N's heart sinks. Y/N turns to a familiar figure next to her, leaning on the back of her sister's chair. A sentence slips off her tongue, "Mom, the wax is getting on the cake."

The older woman doesn't even look down at her daughter before replying, "Just a moment, Y/N. The adults are talking."

"No fair. You all talked for so long during the banquet!" Y/N replies and her mom turns to her.

"Sorry, sweetie. When you're old enough to join the Fatui, you'll understand." Her mom quickly brushes her off.

"Then, I can't wait to join the Fatui." Y/N responds causing some of her relatives to let out a chuckle.

"It's good to be ambitious, but you'll need to work harder than this." One of Y/N's aunts states. "Look at Ida. She graduated top of her class and has a vision! You won't stay in her shadow forever, will you?"

"Madeleine, don't say things like that so bluntly." Y/N's uncle, Madeleine's husband, says.

"Oh, please. Everyone knows it already." The woman scoffs. "Isn't it embarrassing not having anything to say while we're all bragging about our children, Noemie? You're lucky you have Ida." She turns to her sister, Y/N's mother.

"Y/N is trying her best and that's all that matters." Ida interjects.

"Her best is second place. I think she might be cursed or something." Another relative jokes, causing all the adults to break into laughter.

Y/N clenches her fist beneath the table, clutching her silk skirt with trembling hands. As soon as Y/N looks up again, the entire table is empty and the silver moonlight filters through the curtains from the window above the sink, bathing the room in a cold blue. Y/N brings her knees up to her little head as she curls up on the chair. The room is cold and lonely as her half-eaten cake lays on the table, the top covered with a puddle of hardened candle wax.