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sondepoch · 3 years

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Genkart Recoil | 01 | “Sixteen”

Sixteen contestants, four circuits, ten sponsors, and a competition that's been going on for years. What can go wrong?

A lot, apparently. Ei and Thoma experience the worst heartache they've ever known. Scaramouche has to choose between what's right and what's love. Diluc accuses Kaeya of murder, Xiao and Venti fuck to escape reality, Albedo goes crazy trying to protect the only family he has left—and the entire time, the world is watching and laughing over the chaos as sixteen lives are ruined beyond repair.

(Or: A Mario Kart-inspired AU in which everything goes wrong)

01 | 02 | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ |

MASTERLIST

the beginning! thoma meets his competition, xiao finds a friend, and scaramouche is antsy.

It’s one of those luxury planes: the kind Thoma is used to seeing in movies.

The seats are a pristine beige—tinged golden with the warm sunlight that this cabin is so brilliantly bathed in—and everything else on this transport, from the amethyst-studded armrests to the marble table in the center of the room, is a rich purple that screams Wario Industries, the top luxury technology provider in all of Teyvat.

Surrounded by extravagance, Thoma feels out of place in his worn sweatpants and faded crewneck.

Especially in front of the two women in front of him.

“Ajax,” Thoma whispers, nudging his older brother. “Ajax, look. It’s—”

“Yes. I know. Play it cool.”

Childe looks a little more relaxed than Thoma, but both of them sit tensed on their respective recliners. Perhaps it’s because of the opulence of this transport. The only Wario Industries item they own is a heavy, outdated refrigerator they got from a friend who was about to give it to a scrapyard. Or perhaps it’s the flight itself. Celestia is, after all, over fifteen thousand meters high, and this is Thoma’s first time being on an airplane, let alone a luxury private jet.

Or perhaps it’s the fact that in front of them sits a model Thoma’s known about for years: a world-class professional that he never thought he could dream about seeing, let alone sit on the same private plane as.

Nervous eyes flit from the woman’s feet to her hands, her hands to her collarbone, her collarbone to her face, and—crap she’s looking at him—Thoma glances away abruptly, all too aware of the furious flush that must paint his cheeks.

The sound of light laughter from the women sitting in front of him only worsens his humiliation, and Thoma suddenly hates the arrangement of this cabin: square-shaped with only four seats, perfectly arranged in two sets of two so that Thoma and Childe are seated directly across one of the world’s most renowned models and a girl next to her who’s equally pretty.

I’m in over my head, Thoma thinks, stomach beginning to turn. He hasn’t even reached Celestia, and he’s already seeing people this famous? Childe promised that the people attending this year’s races would be average, would be normal, but it’s now starting to seem like the man might have lied to him.

“I’m going to. The bathroom. Um. Excuse me.”

Thoma stands, nodding his head awkwardly at everyone in the room as he walks towards the door he assumes is the bathroom. Only, the universe loves to play games, and the universe’s favorite game seems to be The Recurring Humiliation of Thoma, and so it’s utterly unsurprising when, right as he’s about to enter a door, it slides open on its own to reveal Lady Ningguang of Liyue, dressed impeccably with an unimpressed look on her face as she regards Thoma’s gaping mouth.

“Is there a problem?” she asks in that swift, commanding voice of hers, and then Thoma’s even more caught off guard because wow, Lady Ningguang is addressing him personally, and—

“He was just looking around,” Childe is quick to say, and the man grabs Thoma’s hand and practically drags him back to his seat.

Despite the force of Childe’s motions, Thoma is grateful. He doubts he would have been able to say anything half-coherent with Lady Ningguang, Chief Coordinator of the Celestial Races, staring at him so expectantly. Add in the fact that two of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen are sitting across from him, and it’s guaranteed that he would have embarrassed himself if not for his brother.

“I see,” she hums, and both men look grateful to find that she’s already moved on, too important to concern herself with minor issues like The Recurring Humiliation of Thoma.

“Well, I’m pleased to find that the four of you are enjoying your time here. I apologize for my brief leave. The pilot of this flight doesn’t like being left alone for long periods of time. She’s rather needy.”

An ethereal chuckle from across the room draws Thoma’s attention, and the model speaks:

“There’s no need to apologize. My sister is the exact same.”

“Ei!” the girl next to her gasps, a flush now creeping onto her cheeks. “I do not—”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Ningguang says, smiling gently at Ei. It seems that, of everyone in this room—Childe, the third-place racer from last year; Thoma, a student who passed the qualification races out of sheer luck; Ei, a top model who was invited to this year’s races without having to go through any qualifications; and what appears to be Ei’s sister, a girl with short hair and a sufficiently attractive face to indicate that she, too, might be a model—Ningguang only seems to care about the other famous person in this room: Ei.

Thoma relaxes a little when he realizes that.

It’s like an ant, he reasons to himself as his back presses deeper into the soft leather of his seat. I’m an ant and they’re elephants. It's not possible for me to embarrass myself in front of them because they’re too important to bother looking at someone as insignificant as me.

Then, Thoma remembers that elephants regularly step on and kill ants without a care in the world, and he decides to abandon that line of thinking.

“We’re in the final stretch of our flight,” Ningguang says, breaking Thoma from his thoughts as she steps towards the marble table in the center of the cabin. A single tap from her manicured fingers is all it takes to light the table up with a hologram of the tower fortress in the sky that Thoma’s spent so many hours staring at. “Please, join me.”

Together, the four of them rise from their seats and move next to the table that Ningguang is operating.

“We’ll be reaching Celestia within the next half hour. The docking station is here.” The tall towers of Celestia fade from the hologram as Ningguang zooms in on a landing port. “Your bags are a different transport, but they should arrive by evening. That’s when we’ll take you to your rooms here,” Ningguang gestures to four different wings, “Though until then, we encourage you to visit our commercial floor or the practice grounds.”

“You have a commercial floor?”

“Of course they do,” Childe says, laughing. “Remember how I was always video chatting you from all those restaurants when I was in the races last year?”

Thoma nods his head.

“The reason I could go to so many restaurants was because they were part of the commercial floor. You can get Celestia merch, racewear, food, and whatever you need to perform at your best all for free!”

For free, Thoma thinks, mouth suddenly watering. He remembers how, when Childe finally came home after placing third in last year’s Celestial Races, he brought home with him an entire suitcase full of luxury-brand clothes and house products. The cash payout wasn’t particularly large since the majority of Childe’s winnings went to paying for the car that he totaled to win the race, but the two of them were able to live comfortably for months because of how much Childe was able to bring back.

“Ah, that’s right,” Ningguang hums, finally turning to Childe and paying attention to someone other than Ei. “You’re a returning racer, aren’t you, Tartaglia? Do you still remember the layout of Celestia?”

Thoma stifles a snort when Ningguang calls his brother by the dramatic racer name Childe selected when he first tried out to be a professional racer at the age of fourteen.

“Y-yes,” Childe says, elbowing Thoma. “I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything.”

A grateful smile spreads across Ningguang’s face.

“That’s perfect. My pilot and I actually have a press conference to attend right after we land, so I won’t be able to show the four of you around. Can I entrust this role to you, Tartaglia?”

“O-of course!” Childe blurts, chest puffing up like a proud bird. “You can trust me.”

Thoma tries not to roll his eyes. He remembers everything about Childe’s little crush on Ningguang from last year: how his idiot brother only worked so hard to win third place because he wanted to impress the Chief Coordinator, how the reason he’s returning this year isn’t to obtain a first prize victory, but instead Ningguang’s number.

“Wonderful. Just take them from the landing dock to the commercial floor. Skip the residential quarters. Show them the restaurant, racewear, shopping, and sponsor spots. Then take them down to the practice chambers. Feel free to try out some of our new features. Also, take them to the viewing room and the…”

As Ningguang continues to rattle off an effortless list of places, Childe’s smile grows increasingly forced.

Thoma claps his older brother on the back as soon as she’s done.

“No problem. You remember all that, right, Ajax?”

“Of...of course,” Childe says, shooting a charming smile at Ningguang that turns stormy when he looks at Thoma. “I’ve got a good memory.”

And, to Childe’s merit, he really does remember most of it.

Nearly an hour later, after they’ve all landed in the technological tower paradise that is Celestia, Ningguang is long gone, but Childe is on his best behavior, giving his Thoma, Ei, and Ei’s sister (whose name Thoma now knows is Sara) a tour of this castle in the sky.

“This is where you can get clothes and stuff. We racers are basically walking advertisements for as long as we’re here, so as long as you wear something from your sponsor, it’s completely free.”

“Oh?” Ei asks, lifting a light red crop top and holding it to Thoma’s chest. The Toad & Toadette logo is small but clear in the top left corner. “So if I put together an outfit for Thoma here, he can just walk out with it?”

“Pretty much,” Childe says, a wry smirk crossing his face.

“That’s a crop top,” Thoma chokes out, ears turning red when Sara lifts a checkered skirt to his waist.

“And I’ve spent decades learning what looks good,” Ei says, smirking at Thoma. “Or are you saying you don’t trust my modeling experience?”

“N-no!” Thoma blurts, his mind flashing with the hundreds of pictures he’s obsessed over: pictures of Ei, either looking at the camera with her signature bored look or away in a candid shot, still ethereal and stunning. “I mean, yes? I—I trust you, but don’t you think that it’s a little weird for a guy to—”

“Not at all!” Ei says, and Thoma swears that his brain stops when her hands graze his shoulders to confirm that the shirt will fit him.

“Ah, actually…” Childe’s quiet murmur interrupts both of them, and Thoma isn’t sure if he’s grateful or annoyed that his brother interrupted him and Ei. “We each have our respective sponsors for the races, so whatever clothes you take need to be from that sponsor. That’s the only caveat of trying to get free apparel.”

“Oh,” Thoma says, but then confusion hits him. “How am I supposed to know who my sponsor is?”

“They’ll tell you tonight, probably.” Childe crosses his arms. “I’m still sponsored by DK since they sponsored me for my race last year, and Ei…”

“I'm sponsored by Princess Peach Inc.,” she says, calm. “I asked Ningguang for me and Sara to have the same sponsor, but I’m not sure…”

Thoma turns abruptly to Ei, confused.

“How do you know your sponsor?” he asks. “Are we supposed to already know?”

“Probably...probably not. I think I constitute a special case. ” Ei says. “You how I didn’t have to pass any qualification races to get here?”

Thoma nods. “Most news outlets said that you’d been personally invited by Ningguang.”

“That’s correct. But when she first invited me, I refused her offer because...I mean, obvious reasons. The races were too boring, and I felt like it would only set my career back. Then, Ningguang said that if I joined, she’d have Princess Peach Inc. sponsor me, so…”

Thoma instantly understands.

For a model like Ei, a partnership with Princess Peach Inc. is easily the best thing for her career: it’s the stepping stone to becoming a brand ambassador, a prelude to a timeless career for a model that doubtlessly deserves it.

But…

Thoma frowns.

“Weren’t you about to sign a deal with another company back then? Did you want a sponsorship from Princes Peach Inc. that bad?”

Ei hesitates at Thoma’s question, but then she smiles.

“The biggest reason why I didn’t want to come was because ever since Ningguang was made Chief Coordinator of the Celestial Races, they’ve become incredibly boring. And I told her that to her face.” Thoma’s eyes widen at the courage it must have taken for Ei to say that. “So she swore to me that this year would be different. And that the whole world would be watching this set of races. And that if I won...if I won, I would never need to worry about my career again.”

“Oh,” Thoma says, suddenly realizing the truth of the situation.

The four of them—Childe, Thoma, Sara, Ei—they’re all in Celestia right now because they’re here to win the Celestial Games. Siblings or not, Thoma knows that he’d still give it his all in a race against Childe, and he’s certain that the same holds true for the rest of them. They might be acting like friends, but this is ultimately a competition: one that, if Ei’s words were true, will be one of the most intense rounds of races in decades.

“That’s all good,” Childe says, “But you never even had to compete in a qualification race. Do you have what it takes to win?“

“You talk big for a guy who got third place,” Ei taunts, a smirk on her face. “You’ve never seen me drive. Do you have what it takes to win?”

The air around them grows tense, but it isn’t oppressive; it’s electric. Brazen confidence powers all of their minds, and in a room full of racers where none of them are willing to back down, there’s only one thing left to do.

“Alright,” Childe says. “Let’s skip the rest of the tour. Go straight down to the practice room, and let’s see which of us can drive faster, eh?”

“Are you sure you want to go against me?” Ei taunts, and she steps closer to Childe. Thoma is almost jealous of his brother.

“I’m certain.”

Seconds later, Childe is leading them to the practice circuit. It’s at the very bottom of the Celestial Tower, he says, trying to justify the long elevator ride down.

“Last year, our practice circuit was a three-mile course. Want to see who can do three laps the quickest?”

“Sure,” Ei says. “But I don’t trust your victory assessment. Thoma, Sara, can you guys judge?”

“Of course!” Thoma says in perfect unison with Sara, and he looks at the girl—really looks at her, finally seeing her not as the sister of Ei but an actual, independent racer that he’ll have to soon compete against—and then the elevator doors open.

All four of them step forward, expecting a stereotypical practice circuit for them to drive on.

The sight that greets them is anything but.

“What the fuck,” Childe blurts, and Thoma remembers how Ningguang promised Ei that this year’s races would be different, that this year’s races would be better—and now that he sees the practice circuit they’ve been given, he’s convinced that she was speaking the truth.

Celestia is the most intimidating place Xiao’s ever seen.

It looked impressive enough as the private jet was approaching the renowned Castle of the Sky, developed and made to float entirely by the high-end technology of Wario Industries, but now that Xiao is inside this sky fortress, it's even grander. Everything about this place is made to intimidate: the giant ceilings remind Xiao of how small he is; the glass walls that look over Teyvat, thousands of miles away, show him how isolated this place is from the rest of the world; the pristine cleanliness of everything he's visited thus far a reminder of how this place is technological perfection incarnate, something Xiao can never hope to rival.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he whispers as he steps out of an elevator and onto what Kazuha said would be the commercial floor of Celestia.

“Holy fuck,” the kid next to him, Venti, agrees.

The two of them stand shocked in the elevator for nearly ten seconds before it begins to close and they scramble to get outside. Once they’re no longer inside the elevator, the architecture of this place feels even more intimidating.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Kazuha asks in that light, airy voice of his. The nonchalance with which he regards the most epic tower Xiao has ever seen is scary.

“We spent the last year upgrading it. Though, I suppose this floor hasn't changed much.” Kazuha walks ahead of Xiao and Venti, motioning for them to follow. “Ah well. As much as I’d like to show you the specifics, we’re already late. Do you mind following me to the Compass Room?”

That wasn’t really a question, Xiao knows. Everything Kazuha does and says, no matter how gentle the smile on his face is, is a harsh and direct order. Xiao knows it. Venti knows it. Despite having only met each other on the jet ride here, they both share an identical look that communicates both their thoughts before following the white-haired Coordinator.

“The Compass Room is the center of our residential wings. If memory serves, the two of you will be staying in the South Wing—”

“Alright!” Venti exclaims, his entire demeanor lightening as he throws an arm around Xiao’s shoulder. “That’s perfect, right, Xiao? Remember how you said you were afraid that you’d be alone? You don’t need to worry about that! We can bunk and everything, and—”

“Venti,” Xiao hisses, ears turning red. He confessed that sentimental bit about being afraid he wouldn’t make friends in privacy, without Kazuha’s condescending ears anywhere close. For Venti to repeat it…

“Oh, my bad,” Venti says, shrugging his shoulders. He looks genuinely apologetic. “I’ll make it up to you, though! We can get dinner. My treat.”

“You’re only saying that because all food in Celestia is free.”

“Ah, crap. You know about that?”

In front of them, Kazuha laughs as they enter another elevator and start moving towards the supposed “Compass Room.”

“Of course he does,” Kazuha says, that arrogant smile still on his face. He turns to them, placing his back against the elevator, and Xiao can’t help but suddenly feel like prey that’s been trapped when those red eyes skirt calmly over his figure. “We sent both our lottery winners an informative packet so that they know what to expect. If Xiao read the packet, then he should know more about this year’s races than anyone else.”

That casual comment—if Xiao read the packet—is unnerving for no reason. Xiao knows that Kazuha can’t possibly know that Xiao didn't read it, that he printed the packet out and then spilled sauce over a page so he threw the whole thing out and never thought about it again; but still, Xiao feels vulnerable. Exposed.

Trying to escape that feeling, he brings up a different topic.

“There’s another lottery winner?”

“Of course,” Kazuha says, and his smile widens for a fraction of a second before the intimidating aura dissipates. “This year, we chose one man and one woman. Though you should watch out, Xiao. The girl we happened to select ended up being one with racing experience.”

“Oh,” Xiao says, and when Venti shoots him a sympathetic look, he feels even worse.

The world went crazy when it found out that the Celestial Races, which had just begun to fade from the public eye after they'd grown boring, would be completely redesigned this year and would enact a lottery system to allow laymen to have a chance at joining in on the races.

Xiao entered his name without any real desire to win. The system was charity-based, and a one-dollar-donation resulted in a person's name being entered once, so Xiao donated twenty dollars and never thought about it again...until three months ago, when he discovered that he’d beaten all odds and won the lottery, and that he was to race against the top fifteen racers in the world for a championship title.

The fact that he wasn’t the only lottery winner might have made his time here a little less difficult. At the very least, it would have meant that he had a chance of coming in fifteenth place instead of sixteenth—but based on what Kazuha just said, he really has no chance.

“It’s alright,” Venti says, winking as the elevator comes to a stop. “I’ll train you personally, Xiao! You’ll get second in this competition, no problem.”

“Second?” Kazuha asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Of course. I’m gonna win first place,” Venti says with a smirk on his face, but it’s not the malicious, I-know-something-you-don’t smirk that Kazuha wears and is instead one of complete honesty, excitement, and thrill, so Xiao can’t even care about the hubris of his words.

“I wish you both the best of luck in that,” Kazuha says, and then he turns around and leads them out of the elevator and into the circular Compass Room.

The area they enter is filled with people. Immediately, Xiao’s eyes are drawn to the Chief Coordinator of the Races where Ningguang stands, her iconic white hair standing out against the ocean blue paint of these walls. Next to her stands Signora, another face popular in media, and Kazuha is quick to join them, not even bidding Xiao and Venti a farewell.

Ten seconds pass where Xiao looks around and tries to figure out who the rest of these people are, and he’s confused until he sees the famous Alberich, the second-place winner from last year, and he realizes that everyone around him is his competition.

Sickness and excitement build in his stomach.

This is going to be hell. Compared to these pros, Xiao will humiliate himself on a global stage.

This is going to be epic. Surrounded by pros, Xiao is going to meet people he never could have before.

A single glance into Venti’s eyes confirms that Venti is feeling something similar, and the buzz of chatter grows louder around them before it suddenly drops, and XIao looks up to see that Ningguang is standing on a platform, her hand raised in a gesture for everyone to quiet down.

“Thank you,” she says, and chills run up Xiao’s spine now that he’s hearing the world’s most powerful woman speak with his own ears. “At this point, all racers should be gathered in this room. Most of you have had long flights to get here, so we won’t bore you with too many details. Tomorrow, we’ll go over all the details about this year’s races, how to operate the practice circuit, your respective sponsors, and everything else. Tonight, we want you to spend the evening settling into your residential wings.”

Ningguang takes a step back, and Kazuha begins speaking.

“Scaramouche and Signora are handing out the rooming assignments. All four residential wings can be entered from here, and you can pick up your luggage after you activate your room card.”

Instantly, contestants begin to whisper, but it's a sound of disquiet. Xiao is confused until he sees the list.

Forty-Eighth Session of Celestial Races

Rooming Assignments

North Wing

Albedo

Beidou

Childe

Chongyun

East Wing

Diluc

Eula

Kaeya

West Wing

Keqing

Klee

Rosaria

Sara

South Wing

Thoma

Venti

Xiao

Zhongli

Relief hits Xiao when he realizes that Kazuha was right, that he’ll be in the same wing as Venti, but the people around him don’t seem to feel the same way.

“I’m her guardian,” someone seems to be arguing, and Xiao cranes his head to see a blonde man holding the hand of what appears to be a nine-year-old girl. “You can’t separate us! How am I supposed to trust everyone else in her wing without being there myself? She’s my—”

“Albedo, please calm down,” Ningguang says, and for the first time, she looks caught off guard. “The rooming assignments were done in alphabetical order. It was to ensure maximum fairness.”

“What’s fair,” Albedo growls, “about forcing a literal child to be alone?”

Silence descends upon the room, and Xiao finally begins to understand the situation. Then, another person speaks:

“Actually, I’m also uncomfortable with my room assignment.” Xiao’s jaw goes slack when he turns his head and sees Ei, one of the world’s top models, frowning and crossing her arms. “I’d prefer a room with my sister.”

“There will be no sharing of rooms with unfamiliar people,” Ningguang tries to explain. “Everyone will receive their own quarters. Albedo, Klee will have total privacy. And Ei, you and your sister can easily—”

“Ah, I’d also prefer it if my brother could be with me,” a voice calls, and Xiao is even more shaken when he sees Tartaglia (or should he say Childe?), last year’s third-place champion, standing casually by the wall. “I feel safer knowing that he’s closer by. Plus, we’ll be here a while, so it’s more convenient to have family close to you, especially since we’re not sharing rooms.”

“Can we trade rooms?” another voice calls, and Xiao turns to see Kaeya Alberich joining in on the complaints. “I’m not very comfortable with the people in my wing,” Kaeya says, throwing a particularly stormy look at a redhead Xiao has never seen.

“I—this wasn’t—we specifically planned—”

Ningguang seems to be at a total loss for words as the contestants around Xiao continue to break out into unsupportive murmurs and start criticizing the rooming assignments. It seems that Xiao and Venti are the only people content with the list, and they flash nervous looks at each other, unsure of how things will proceed from here.

Finally, a voice breaks through the rest.

“Lady Ningguang, would it be possible for us to select our own rooms?”

Xiao cranes his neck and catches a glimpse of another top racer: the defending champion of the past eight Celestial Races, the man who turned these annual races boring because of his unquestionable victory in every single race: Morax.

His voice is deep, authoritarian. He speaks with the confidence of a winner, and as he stands in the center of the room, an automatic bubble of respect forms around him as people give him space as a sign of respect.

“Well, your luggage hasn’t been moved in yet, so it’s technically possible…” Ningguang says, hesitant.

“Then why not let us select our rooms? There seem to be many family members participating this year, and there are…” Morax looks around the room. “Fifteen of us, so we won't be over capacity."

Ningguang sighs.

“Sixteen, Zhongli.” Xiao lifts his eyebrows. He’s only ever known Morax by his racer name; Zhongli sounds oddly human compared to it. “There are sixteen of you here. Would you all really rather select your room assignments?”

“Yes,” the blond-haired man from before snaps, and a chorus of agreement follows.

Seconds later, Ningguang is sighing, letting Kazuha take control.

“Alright,” he says, his voice filling up the small, circular Compass Room. “Please split up into groups of four, then. Apart from the elevator, you should see four doors. Those are the entrances to the four wings. Stand outside your wing once your group of four is ready.”

Immediately, discussion breaks out among the racers.

Xiao is quick to lock eyes with Venti. The very first thing they talked about, after boarding that plane on the border of Liyue and Mondstadt, was how neither of them had ever done anything like this before and how they had no clue what the other racers would be like.

“You want to stay in the same wing?” Venti asks quickly, and Xiao is grateful because he’s not sure he would have had the courage to ask.

“Yes.”

Then, they’re looking for two other people to wing with.

Already, Xiao can see groups forming. With only fifteen seconds having gone by, one group of four is already completed, and Xiao recognizes the distinct faces of Tartaglia and Ei, and what appears to be the two siblings that they were complaining about earlier: a redhead with dead green eyes and a girl with chopped purple hair. The four of them stand outside the west wing, chatting and laughing in a way that makes Xiao wonder if the four of them were friends before coming here.

At the north wing stand the blond-haired man and the young girl he was trying to be with. Xiao hears a girl with an eyepatch ask if she can stay in their wing, but the man shakes his head when he sees the flask at her hip, saying that he doesn’t want alcohol around someone so young.

At the east wing, another group seems to be forming: it’s Kaeya Alberich and two women who seem to be his friends, and Xiao almost thinks about asking to join them before he realizes that all groups need to be capped at four people.

That only leaves one place left: the south wing.

Venti seems to realize it at the exact same time as Xiao, and the two of them rush there, pleased to find that there are already two people here.

“Hey!” Venti calls, breaking the ice with the effortless cheer he seems to always carry. “Do you guys mind if we guys join up in your wing?”

“I—I don’t,” the younger boy, with light blue hair, says. “Um. Do you?”

The redhead standing next to him shakes his head. “I don’t care. As long as we have four people and none of them are him,” the man says, glaring—at Kaeya? Kaeya Alberich? Is that who this man is annoyed with?—across the room. Then, Xiao remembers how Kaeya, too, had made an underhanded comment about not wanting to room with someone, and it starts to make sense. Could there already be bad blood between contestants?

“O-okay,” Venti says, and he’s just as caught off-guard as Xiao is. “Well, I’m Venti! Nice to meet you.”

“Diluc.”

“Chongyun!”

“I’m Xiao.”

The four of them look at each other, and Xiao realizes that just like their group has finally formed, the other wings, too, are growing clearer.

“So for the east wing we have Thoma, Childe, Ei, and Sara, correct?” a grumpy-looking man with short, purple hair asks, writing their names down on a notebook. “Fine. South wing is Venti, Chongyun, Diluc, and…” The man stops and stares at their group quizzically.

“Xiao,” Xiao says, ears turning red when he realizes that he’s the only person this man didn’t know.

“Oh right. Lottery boy. Okay fine, then the west wing is Beidou, Kaeya, Eula, and Rosaria…” The man with the clipboard walks away quickly, and Xiao has to crane his neck to hear him list off the names of the people in the north wing: Albedo, Klee, Zhongli, and Keqing.

The three winners from last year split up, is the first thing Xiao realizes. That thought sends a thrill to his heart because if Morax, Alberich, and Tartaglia worked together to win this, they’d doubtlessly dominate, so having them separate is better for everyone else.

Cliques are forming, is the second thing Xiao thinks. He can already see it: the people in the east and west wings all seem comfortable with one another, and he can hear them making plans to start practicing their technique tomorrow.

Shit, Xiao thinks, fear starting to build. Did he make a mistake? Should he have tried to befriend one of last year’s winners to improve his chances? Should he have tried to team up with someone strong, regardless of whether or not he liked them?

His palms, clenched in fists, begin to feel clammy. His hoodie feels like it’s choking him. The fear of humiliating himself and having the whole world watch returns, and—

“Hey.”

Xiao spins his head to look at Venti, his eyes wide and unfocused and terrified.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Xiao whispers, starting to echo the same sentiments he was muttering to himself when he was about to board the private jet that took them here. “I’m not a racer. I got in on dumb luck. I doubt I’d even be able to pass the first qualification race, so—”

“Relax, Xiao,” Venti says, smiling. It’s the same smile he wore when they were about to board the jet and Xiao was going through his last-minute panic, the smile he wore as he told Xiao to breathe with him and that everything would be okay, the smile he wore as he talked Xiao out of his fear, and—

Oh.

“We’re in this together, okay? I’ve got your back, and I’m going to make sure that you get your second-place spot in this competition.”

“Only second?” Xiao asks jokingly, doing his best to ignore the way his voice cracked in the middle.

“Only second,” Venti responds, smiling.

Then, Ningguang has stepped up to the podium and she’s back to talking to them about the procedure for the night, how they’re not supposed to take any clothing from the commercial section until they know their sponsors, how they can eat whatever they want but the restaurants will close by eleven, how they should get a full night’s rest tonight because the practice circuit opens for use tomorrow.

Xiao is only half-paying attention.

As the four Celestial Coordinators leave via the elevator they came here with, his thoughts are focused on Venti, how this ball of energy whom he's only known for four hours might actually be his ticket to victory in these races, and how maybe, just maybe, he can start to put his fears away in the back of his mind.

The area beneath the Compass Room is where the Coordinators stay.

It’s an arrangement Ningguang set up so that the four of them will constantly be near the rest of the contestants, always available if there’s an emergency and ready to break up any fights.

Still, Scaramouche feels out of place as Kazuha uses a master key to bring the elevator one floor lower, allowing them all to enter their own, much more luxurious version of the upstairs dormitories.

“Kazu,” Scaramouche says, pulling his boyfriend back when Ningguang and Signora go forward. “Kazu, are you sure it’s okay for me to be here? I...I’m starting to think…”

“Scara,” Kazuha says, his usually-condescending smile falling off as the sincere look of love washes over. “Scara, don’t doubt yourself. It’ll be okay.”

“But Ei didn’t even look at me, not even when I was giving out—”

“Shh. This is the first day. Ei was probably overwhelmed with everything else that was going on. We don’t even know if she saw you.”

“But she heard me, Kazu! She heard my voice and she still didn’t—”

“Scaramouche.”

Ningguang has returned to their living room, her dress stripped off and her hair hanging loose as she stares at Scaramouche with a disapproving look on her face. Her loud, clear voice interrupts the tantrum Scaramouche was about to throw, and he’s grateful for it, despite her stormy glare.

“Ningguang, go away,” Kazuha says, stepping in front of Scaramouche protectively. “He doesn’t need to hear—”

“He does need to hear it, apparently.” Ningguang sits on their leather couch, looking ethereal as she lifts her legs to rest them against the coffee table. Scaramouche can’t help but think that her slow, languid movements make her look like a goddess—and if she’s a goddess in the room, he’s the atheist she despises who never looked twice at her up until now.

“Scaramouche, you cannot interfere with Ei. We brought her in here as a—”

“Way to expand our audience—” Kazuha interjects, nervous, but Ningguang ignores him:

“As a thirst trap,” Ningguang spits, “And the better she performs here, the more people will be watching this year’s races to support her. And the more people watch this year, the more people will watch in future years, so—”

“You don’t need to use her to craft your legacy,” Scaramouche spits. Fury builds in his heart at hearing someone in his family be reduced to a thirst trap, and even if he knows that there are people on the internet who’ve said much worse things about Ei, Ningguang having the audacity to say it to his face is what angers him. “Just because this is your last year as Chief Coordinator and you’ve failed every year before this doesn’t mean that you can manipulate my sister—”

“Your step-sister,” Ningguang snaps, equally angry now that Scaramouche has brought up her failures as a Chief Coordinator. “She’s not your family, she’s not your—”

“Guys.”

As usual, Signora is the one to break up their arguments.

She stands at the door frame of her bedroom, clad in nothing more than a T-shirt and spandex shorts, an exhausted look in her eye. Despite being made up perfectly just ten minutes ago, her hair is a mess, and her utter apathy for both Ningguang and Scaramouche makes her the perfect, neutral party to tell them both to shut up.

“Ning. There’s no way your races will flop this year after the new sponsor you landed. Scara. If you want to make things better with your sister, you have to talk to her and not get angry. Kazu. Stop stirring shit up.”

“Don’t call me that,” both Ningguang and Scaramouche mutter under their breath, but the anger from before is gone.

From there on, they split up. Signora closes the door, and Ningguang returns to her own room, and Scaramouche and Kazuha are left alone on the couch with no fellow coordinators to eavesdrop on their conversation. Legs entangled, Scaramouche begins tracing patterns on his boyfriend’s thigh, looking up at the man with soft, hopeful eyes.

“She’ll change her mind about me, right, Kazu?”

“Of course she will,” Kazuha says, leaning forward to capture his boyfriend’s lips in a kiss.

Scaramouche then tries to pull back to ask another question—she’ll last long enough in the competition for that, right, Kazu?—but the coordinator refuses to let him, almost as if Kazuha knows the question and doesn’t want to answer, almost as if Ei is just as doomed as the rest of the racers will be when they see what Ningguang has done to this year's Celestial Races.

MASTERLIST

01 | 02 | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ |

Word Count: 6.4k

Notes: OMG im so excited for chapter 9

Comment & Leave Kudos

Next Update: im going to try for for weekly updates bc i have lots of Thoughts and want to get them out but dont hold me to that

#Word Count: 6.4k #genshin impact #genshin impact au #mario kart au #genshin impact racer AU #genshin impact childe #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact thoma #genshin impact ei #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact venti #lots of sex and death #family problems #diluc & kaeya #xiaoven #albedo & klee #morally ambiguous

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