Chapter Text
“Oi! Scaramouche! I’m glad you could make it!” He was only two steps onto the ship and Beidou had already noticed him. He sighed as he could feel the shake of Beidou’s thick boots creak the boards near him.
“Hey, what’s with the sad look? I’m just kidding! Kazuha’s over there!” She used her free hand to where the samurai was standing on the other edge of the ship watching the waves. “And between you and me…” She lowered her head to whisper to Scaramouche, “he’s more than just a few bottles in, but hey you can take care of him can’t ya? And if you want any booze yourself it’ll be over there.” She motioned to a barrel with her own bottle of sour smelling liquid.
Scaramouche muttered out his thanks despite not grabbing any alcohol and Beidou walked back to her crew.
Before Scaramouche went to talk to Kazuha though, he mustered up his courage with a deep breath and took his surroundings in. It was an odd sight. The sun had long gone down now and the moon peeked over the swaying horizon. The ship itself was decorated with a few lanterns and such to keep lighting, but besides that it was rather bare. Beidou and the rest of her crew were all sat down by the barrel of booze, all of her crew except for Kazuha. He stood at the edge of the ship, peering over the railing to the open oceans and seas with a bottle in his hand.
The wind tossed at Kazuha’s hair as every lock and bang swayed in the wind naturally, and the moon highlighted his face in an opulent spotlight.
Stop daydreaming Scaramouche, remember what you came here for. Kazuha deserves to know the truth and you deserve a chance to tell your story. Scaramouche had almost forgotten that he had asked Nahida to help him, she must’ve been witnessing what he was seeing in real time through his thoughts. It comforted him in a way to know that there was someone else supporting him.
I’m not daydreaming Buer… Scaramouche tried to roll his eyes for her to see, And I know, I’ll go talk to him now.
Don’t lie to me Scaramouche, I can see your thoughts right now.
I’m not lying! I’m going to talk to him right now!
I was talking about the daydreaming part, Scaramouche, An uncontrollable blush spread over Scaramouche’s cheeks. He was not daydreaming about Kazuha! but I’m rooting for you Scaramouche! I know you can do this! Remember how far you’ve come and it’s ok if you’re not able to! All that matters is you make attempts to!
Yet, despite what Scaramouche told Nahida, he still stared at Kazuha. Even from his faraway gaze, Scaramouche could see something sad lurking behind the other’s eyes, it wasn’t an immediate somberness, but rather a more reminiscent melancholy.
Just at the sight of Kazuha in this state, shot a slight pang that tore at Scaramouche’s heartstrings. It made him feel guilty. The other night Kazuha had told him he was grateful in a way for his clan’s falling for it gave him this way of life, but at the same time it caused the ruin of his family. Scaramouche had caused the ruin of his family.
Still, Scaramouche began to walk toward the lonely samurai, the boards creaked under his feet and the oceans sang their solemn song. The sea spray splashed against the ship in salty mists, but Kazuha made no move to turn around or shield his eyes as the distance between the two Inazumans grew shorter and shorter.
Scaramouche stopped in his tracks before he greeted Kazuha though. And it wasn’t because he was too scared to talk to Kazuha. Little Yue had taken notice of him.
“Hey! Mr. Scaramouche! That’s your name right?”
Scaramouche hadn’t even noticed the little fucker running up to him as he felt the kid grab his legs in what was probably a hug. Then again, he couldn’t be the one to judge, the only hug he’d ever gotten before this was from Nahida.
Scaramouche sighed, he couldn’t exactly kick away this kid, not with Nahida watching, and definitely not with Kazuha there. Plus he’d moved on from that type of life.
“Yep.” He kept his answer short and curt hoping the kid would get the message. But like any other kid, Little Yue didn’t get the memo.
And instead of going away like Scaramouche wished, he started frantically apologizing, “I’m sorry Mr. Scaramouche…I didn’t mean to make you fall last time-”
“What the fuck…are you talking about? You didn’t do anything wrong.” Scaramouche cut off the kid, but he also reached down to awkwardly pat the kid’s head. Little Yue looked up at him familiarly with a piercing childish gaze. A tear formed in Scaramouche’s eye, he blamed it on the sea spray, but he knew it was because of something else much deeper rooted and locked away. He still remembered the first and only child he’d ever taken care of. Another pang tore at his heart, dragging a purposefully buried memory back to the surface. His knees shook, but this time he wouldn’t give into them. After all, if he fell he’d take Little Yue with him and he didn’t want that.
“I- Mr. Scaramouche, why are you crying?” Scaramouche didn’t even realize that coherent tears were dribbling down his cheeks now, no longer contained in his eyes and they weren’t stopping. “We’re supposed to be having fun! It’s a party! Please don’t cry Mr. Scaramouche! I’m sorry!”
Scaramouche could feel Little Yue frantically gripping at his legs trying to get him to stop crying, but he could only stand there frozen. Forgotten memories choked his throat and burned his lungs as he attempted to say something to comfort the child, but nothing came out. It wasn’t the child’s fault at all, he wanted him to know that, but he couldn’t form the thoughts to say it. Someone else said it for him though.
It was soft, familiarly different voice, “Little Yue, I think Mr. Scaramouche needs some space right now, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sure there’s something else that’s the reason.”
“But Mr. Kazuha, he started crying when I-”
Kazuha shushed the child, “It’s not your fault Little Yue, now run along, how about you run along and hang out with Yinxing for a little bit, ok?” She was the only adult on board who was relatively mentally stable and sober right now.
“But Mr. Kazuha, what if Mr. Scaramouche needs something?” Little Yue grasped tighter at Scaramouche’s shaking legs. The touch felt ghostly familiar, and tears continued to flow like drops of blood spilling out from a fatal wound despite Scaramouche closing his eyes. He could only hear the two of them talking distantly beside them. Even in his head Nahida had disappeared, she wasn’t able to reach his thoughts in such a frenzied state.
“It’s ok Little Yue, I’ll stay here with Mr. Scaramouche, alright? You can find your way to Yinxing by yourself right? Like a grown up?”
“I’m a grown up?” Little Yue loosened his hold around Scaramouche’s legs.
“Soon to be” Kazuha chuckled, “Now run along, Little Yue…you can talk to Scaramouche later, ok? I promise I won’t let him leave until after your bedtime.”
“Ok…” Little Yue unraveled his arms off Scaramouche’s legs, “That better be a promise though Kazuha!”
“I don’t break my word Little Yue otherwise I’d have to face the captain.”
Little Yue’s light footsteps echoed across the boards, only creaking them slightly in comparison to the way Beidou’s boots had clanked against the wood earlier.
Scaramouche felt a coldness erupt over him, creeping like ice through his veins and stinging every nerve with frostbite. He kept himself composed enough though. Even though Kazuha was silent now, Scaramouche still knew he was standing near watching him. Wiping away the last of his tears and burying his old memories back to the graves they belonged in, he faced the samurai.
“Little Yue likes you y’know.”
“What?”
“You’re good with kids.”
“What?” Scaramouche raised his eyebrow this time.
“All I’m saying is once we leave the harbor, he’ll be sad to see you go. I’m not very good with kids myself, I think Little Yue knows that. Though maybe next time we come back to Sumeru you can come visit.” Kazuha hummed, his attention focused more upon the night sky than Scaramouche, but still keeping a watchful eye upon his guest. Scaramouche watched as he took another sip from the almost empty bottle he held.
“Do you enjoy sake, Scaramouche?”
“What?”
“Hm, I suppose that’s a no then. I used to not to either, but sometimes it is nice to just let your mind drift fuzzily without any grounding in the past. I like to think that way, in the present, but it’s hard to always do that.” Kazuha took another swig out of his bottle, humming again.
Scaramouche stayed silent, his mind buzzing, it was almost as if Kazuha knew that Scaramouche was a part of his past and was trying to hint to him that he didn’t care so much about it. Yet as much as his anxieties of Kazuha knowing who he really was crept up, they were quickly quelled by the samurai’s soft voice.
“I won’t ask why you cried earlier nor why you fell ill upon first seeing me…I know there are somethings only meant for certain ears to hear. Though I do advise you to talk to Little Yue at least before we leave Sumeru. As I said earlier, he looks up to you in a sense. I know you weren’t crying exactly because of him earlier, but he probably thinks so and I think it’d be best to clear that up.”
“Tell me about him.” Scaramouche gathered his voice to say something even if it only came out in shaky whispers easily mistakened for the wind. Luckily, Kazuha had keen enough senses to pick out the artificial from the natural.
“His story is a bit of a sad one, but if you wish to know then I will tell you. It is only fair that you know if you will be around him. Both of his parents had been part of the Crux Fleet before I even joined, but they both died at a young age when Little Yue was no more than an infant.” Scaramouche shed a tear, Little Yue was an orphan, no child deserved that. The world could be cruel to certain individuals. “Afterwards, Beidou and the rest of the crew took it upon themselves to raise him. I wouldn’t say we’re the best caretakers, but I think we make a better family than any others could offer him back in the harbor.”
Family. There it was again, that word. Scaramouche still remembered it from when Little Yue had mentioned it when he met him. However, this time the word didn’t irk him, instead it simply made his nerves go numb. It was something so simple and naturally given, but just as easily taken away.
A warmth enveloped Scaramouche, he hadn’t even realized that tears had begun cascading down once again. His arms remained stuck to his sides, frozen with nothing to wipe away his tears as his vision glazed over in melting mirrors. Little pin pricks danced along his nerves, only calmed by the pair of arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him warm and close.
Scaramouche let himself be held, his head buried deep into Kazuha’s neck as the catharsis took hold of him more than anything else. This night was supposed to be about Kazuha, yet here Scaramouche was crying over his own past. How pathetic and selfish, but also necessary. He couldn’t forgive and forget what had happened in the past, but he also couldn’t keep it buried. It was a necessary evil to accept his grievances and live with them until they became bearable enough. He had already lived through such evils, so why was it so hard to live now when all that was left of them was memories? Why did he have to live through such torturous experiences, only to feel the residual eternal pain?
His balance had long wavered, his whole weight laying upon Kazuha, but he was always still kept upright. It was embarrassing, but Scaramouche didn’t think of it like that right now. He just accepted the current warmth, a distraction from all that had plagued his mind in the past, a new memory to help dilute the pools of the evil old.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, his head buried in the crook of Kazuha’s neck. Still, only the melancholy moon and the somber stars were witnesses to the two of them and Scaramouche was glad for it. If the others on board noticed, they pretended not to notice. The crying sea jostled the ship, and the torrential waves kissed the railing of the ship. Scaramouche didn’t notice any of it though, all of it blocked away and hidden behind a protective screen of Kazuha’s warmth.
Eventually, after some time, Scaramouche’s feelings calmed down and the weight of the past still lingered, but the ton felt a few ounces lighter now. Like a stone, it took time for it to erode away, grain by grain. His sobs quieted as Kazuha’s shoulder dampened. Everything came slowly flowing back as the sea’s lullaby played off beats to Kazuha’s warm breaths. The frigid winds tickled his ankles, balancing out the warmth emanating from where Kazuha rubbed circles on his back with his fingers. The salty sea mixed in with the light scent of sun kissed strawberries as Scaramouche slowly began to lift his head out of the other’s shoulder. Scaramouche’s eyes were puffy, but to his surprise a slight teary redness lingered in Kazuha’s eyes.
“My apologies, I didn’t mean for that story to strike a nerve, but do you want to talk about it?”
Scaramouche stared at the other blankly lost in a mix of thought and emotion. He had already cried in front of the other, what was to stop him from revealing all of his past to him now? Like Nahida said, it was only fair for Kazuha to know who he was before he began to try and make some connection with him. As much as he was reluctant to air out everything upfront, it was necessary to avoid feelings of betrayal, a feeling Scaramouche was more than familiar with. He accepted Kazuha’s suggestion and they moved to a more secluded part of the ship, seated near the railing of the ship. Up in the crow’s nest a seagull settled itself, seemingly watching the pair of them.
“Kazuha…I have something I want to tell you.”
Kazuha shifted awkwardly, emptying the last of his bottle with a sip, “Of course, Scaramouche feel free to tell me whatever you are comfortable with. I cannot promise I’ll be able to advise you, but I can always listen.”
“Tell me: In this world do you think it’s possible…that the past can be changed from what is really the truth?” Scaramouche’s demeanor had changed, his eyes clear now staring deeply into Kazuha’s. He was no coward, he faced the thrill of his fears. There was no hiding anymore, no petty disguises and lies by omission, the die had already been cast, and Scaramouche was already on his way to war. To overcome his own fears, to see through the past and conquer it.
Kazuha sighed, tensing his lips, and furrowing his eyebrows a bit. “I believe anything is possible, but if the past is changed then the outcome changes, does it not? So if the past truly is different from what is true, I’m not sure if I would want to know it, for that true past is not what makes me, myself in this moment.”
“But what if the past is changed and the outcome is similar?”
Kazuha pondered for a moment, “Then I suppose I would want to know the truth, for then it is unfair for the responsibility of the past to be shoved upon those who did not do it.”
“Very well.” Scaramouche spoke the words slowly, “I will tell you my story, Kaedehara Kazuha, and how it may intertwine with your own.”
Kazuha nodded, “Then I will hear it and only after you finish will I give my own thoughts upon the matter.”
And so Scaramouche told his story with a jaded face. He held back the tears now because it was only fair for the attention to be upon Kazuha right now, for he was telling his story for his sake. He told Kazuha about his birth and his rejection by his mother. Then, he moved to his coming to Tartarasuna and the events that transpired there, however he kept all of the events from his perspectives at the time. No Dottore had entered the story yet. He told Kazuha of the fragile child he attempted to care for, only to die shortly after because of the grips of disease. Then, he talked of his entering into the Fatui, becoming Dottore’s prime test subject, the tortures he faced, the trials he overcame, the abyss he campaigned and trail blazed in in order to gain his recognition and rank in the Fatui. He did not tell Kazuha of the way he felt at the time of all the betrayals though, for it was Kazuha’s decision to decide whether his actions were fair or not. Next though, was the part he dreaded telling Kazuha the most, the true story of the fall of the Raiden Gokaden.
Throughout his whole story, Kazuha had stayed quiet and calm, his emotions hidden away behind a mask of sympathy. But as Scaramouche told Kazuha the story of the Raiden Gokaden, his face remained stony and unmoving. For all the years Scaramouche had lived through, he truly could not read Kazuha’s face as he told him the way he destroyed the clans of the Raiden Gokaden, only stopping once meeting the descendant of Niwa and fleeing from Inazuma altogether. Yet, he returned once again to help support the vision hunt decree to make his market for delusions. That was when Kazuha’s calm demeanor broke, his lip quivered in agitation as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t interrupt Scaramouche at all. He promised to listen through the whole story.
Scaramouche moved past his ventures in Inazuma and taking of the electro gnosis, not leaving out a single detail. He didn’t want to keep anything hidden away. He told Kazuha about Dottore’s plot in overthrowing Sumeru and his place in it as he failed to reach godhood, only stopped by the traveler. After that, he had been placed under Nahida’s watch to venture into Irminsul to retrieve some hidden secrets, discovering the truth of his past of deception in the process. All the events in Tartarasuna proving to simply be a complex maze of smoke and mirrors orchestrated by none other than Dottore himself. He told Kazuha of his moment of madness where he ventured into Irminsul as an attempt to change the past, to erase himself, to save Tartarasuna and prevent the transpiring events. Yet, in the end it all failed and he had only changed the memory of the past, but not the actual action. And now he ended his story with his receiving of his vision and his current residence in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.
Kazuha stayed silent, showing no reaction to the entire story as he replayed what Scaramouche had just told him. Even the sea and howling winds fell silent like the descending moon and dimming stars. All the silent tension broke though, once Kazuha let out a curt sigh.
Kazuha leaned over the railing, staring out to the tumbling sea, his voice stony and cold, “Scaramouche, I thank you for telling me your truth, your story, and I am not innocent either. I have killed before, but come here and watch the waves with me.”
Scaramouche took his eyes off Kazuha to look at the dancing waves below. They were the only ones on deck now, the rest had already turned in for the night. Kazuha held up his bottle looking through it out to sea.
“I used to write messages and wrap them up in bottles such as these before throwing them out to sea. I always hoped that somewhere one day someone would read them and throw me a response, give me someone to attach myself too in a way, but I knew I would never get any response, and I thought that was fair. For, like the bottle drifting out to sea, I wander around with nothing to tie me down, simply traveling to hear the stories of others to fill up myself with thoughts of bountiful experiences. They say a vision is a representation of a person’s ambition, but I often find myself without any ambition. I wander because I don’t have any ambition, constantly in search of one, I feel constantly lost. Sometimes, I think about if I still lived in a prosperous clan, would I have something to grasp onto? Or would it be something I’m forced to follow? I like to think it’s the latter, I’d rather blaze my own trail. You, are full of ambition, your story details that. But in that ambition, is destruction, selfishness, and I understand you were long deceived, but still one must pay for the sins of their past. And in some way I saw myself in that form of yourself before regaining your memory, with nothing to live with. But you accepted your sins, for they were what formed you partially and I applaud you for doing so and for trying to right your own sins, but what’s done has been done. I may not be suffering as a result of the fall of the Raiden Gokaden, but other descendants do. And not to forget the civil war that has ransacked Inazuma has torn and destroyed the people of our country. For that I will never forgive you, but I believe that does not matter, for it is not my opinion that matters, but yours and I know you will never forgive yourself. I will admit, I wanted to throw you off of this ship into the sea at the end of your story and maybe it is only the drunken haziness in myself stopping me from rationalizing doing so. But for as much as you have done wrong, I cannot hate you in the slightest. I cannot fully forgive you, but I cannot hate you. Your ambitions are admirable and your story rich, but for the time being I believe it is better if we do not see each other. But…the Alcor leaves in 2 days and I promised Little Yue you’d see him again before then.”
Kazuha turned back, pocketing the empty bottle now, a hardened gaze written over his face. It was not one of anger nor threats, but it contained an insurmountable sternness and solemness. For once in his life, Scaramouche was afraid of a human, not of how they could harm him, but how they thought about him. Yet, Kazuha’s response was tamer than what Scaramouche had expected, he still left it open for them to meet in a future time once things settled and clouded thoughts were clarified. Right now, another tear threatened to glisten with the stars and the sea, but Scaramouche held it back, for it would be selfish to spoil such a moment.
He gave Kazuha an uncertain nod of understanding before seeing himself out. The seagull up in the crow’s nest also decided to take its flight out now with him. Scaramouche sighed and tried to half smile as he stepped back down onto stable ground, at least there was something else accompanying him. The steps back to the Sanctuary of Surasthana would be a long journey, but at least he knew that Nahida was still there watching him. No seagull traveled this deeply into land out of its own accord.
He visited the Alcor the next day again, only to fulfill Kazuha’s promise to Little Yue. When he reached the ship, Beidou greeted him with a smile, but didn’t ask about what was going on between him and Kazuha. She knew at the very least part of it, Scaramouche was certain of it, she didn’t pry him for any details though and let him pass freely across the ship.
Kazuha was perched up in the crow’s nest, Scaramouche was sure that Kazuha had taken notice of his presence, but didn’t show any sign of it. Internally he sighed, time healed all wounds. Scaramouche still needed time to heal too, jumping into a relationship with so many freshly wounded deep cuts wasn’t opportune. Scaramouche didn’t know what he was hoping for. Kazuha had been right, he was full of ambitions.
Despite Kazuha’s avoidance, Scaramouche still went to visit Little Yue.
“Mr. Scaramouche! You came back!” Little Yue jumped away from whatever little game of single person hopscotch he was playing to hug Scaramouche’s legs again. Scaramouche felt bad for the kid, despite him having a whole family, he was still lonely. There were no other kids around his age on board, or kids in general and he doubted any of the crew was good at entertaining kids, Kazuha wasn’t and kids couldn’t drink alcohol so that threw Beidou out. Though, he supposed maybe the others were better with children. Scaramouche didn’t think he was, but Little Yue seemed to like him.
“Yeah…” Scaramouche grinned nervously, patting the kid on the back before letting him go. It was familiar and nostalgic, but also freeing, a new memory to purify the tainted old.
“You talked a lot last night with Mr. Kazuha! Are you too…y’know? Yinxing told me that-”
“No.” Scaramouche’s answer was a bit curt and he felt bad for cutting the kid off, but he also didn’t want to talk about Kazuha.
“Oh…so are you not coming with us then?” Little Yue looked down at his feet, trying to hide his pout from Scaramouche.
Scaramouche sighed, “Look, kid, whenever you come back to Sumeru again you’ll see me! Or who knows maybe I’ll be in Liyue or Mondstadt!”
“What about Inazuma? We’re going there next!” Little Yue looked back at Scaramouche again, a half smile on his face. It made Scaramouche feel slightly better for softening the disappointment.
Scaramouche scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah…maybe…Inazuma.” He pressed his lips into a flat line, if he was going anywhere it wouldn’t be there. Ei wouldn’t even remember who he was now. He wasn’t sure if that was better or not. “How about we play some games?” Scaramouche tried to distract Little Yue from his disappointment.
And it worked…Little Yue’s face brightened up as he jumped up and down. It brought a smile to Scaramouche’s face, a genuine smile. That was the second one in the past few days. Things got better day by day, it wasn’t always a straight slope up, but it wiggled its way toward the better.
By the time Scaramouche left the Alcor, the sun had turned a pinkish red and the sky a yellow blending into purple. He had spent the day indulging Little Yue in all sorts of childish games from hide and seek to hopscotch. And it had been fun. No matter how childish and silly and useless these games were to Scaramouche, they mattered to Little Yue. Scaramouche could’ve spent his time doing much more obviously important things, but these games weren’t such trivial things to Little Yue and because of that they mattered to Scaramouche. He didn’t know when he’d see the boy again, or even if the boy would still be a child next time they met, so he thought to make the most of it.
Secretly, Scaramouche had been hoping that Kazuha would join into their little shenanigans along the ship. Even Beidou had played one round of hide and seek with them, but Kazuha remained up the crow’s nest, stoic as always.
And Scaramouche was fine with that, because ultimately it was Kazuha’s decision whether he wanted to forgive him or not. And until then, even if it was an eternity away, Scaramouche would wait, for if anyone who was affected by his actions to such an extent would forgive him, it would be Kazuha.
Months passed since the Alcor’s departure from Port Ormos.
Sometimes Scaramouche would receive letters from different nations all over the world. The Traveler and Paimon sent Nahida postcards from the different nations they visited from Liyue to Fontaine to Natlan. Scaramouche did receive some mail himself too, specifically from the Alcor.
Little Yue drew him little scribble drawings and a few short sentences that got ever so slightly more complex with every letter. Sometimes there would be drawings of Beidou or the purple stick figure he assumed was Beidou and the other crew members along with whatever else he drew, but never was there a drawing of Kazuha. Besides Little Yue and the occasional note Beidou threw in thanking him for writing back and telling him the next harbor they would be at so he knew where to send his letters, he had no communication with the rest of the crew, including Kazuha.
These days, Scaramouche still helped Nahida out with some things, just trying to keep himself busy. He ran his way across Sumeru trying to help scattered Aranara along with helping protect Aaru Village in times of sandstorms. To the people of Sumeru, he quickly became well known as a hero similar to that of the traveler, but in reality he was doing all these things for a more selfish reason. He didn’t care too much to help people, he didn’t wish to harm them, but helping people gave him busy work, something to occupy himself with. He still had some ambitions, he wanted to see Dottore’s fall and make him repay his actions much like he had wanted to seek revenge upon Ei. But until the traveler was ready to face the Fatui, Scaramouche would keep himself busy, he didn’t actively seek out revenge himself, but rather was waiting for the day that karma bit Dottore back for all that he did. And right now in order to do that it involved helping the Traveler and Nahida, but he also helped them out simply because they were friends of some sort, at least Nahida and him were. Maybe when it came time for the Traveler to explore the Abyss in search of their sibling, Scaramouche would lead them, but for now Scaramouche bided his time.
Nahida had suggested that he travel the world now, to take in new experiences, it sounded like something Kazuha would do. If there was anywhere Scaramouche wanted to visit, it would be Inazuma, but if there was any place Scaramouche wanted to avoid it was Inazuma. He no longer harbored extreme ill will toward Ei, he understood why she abandoned him now even though he believed she wasn't right in doing so. Revenge would do nothing to solve the past. He would’ve grown up fine in Tartarasuna had it not been for Dottore’s intervention. He harbored bitter resentment against him because he actively tried to destroy his life. Sometimes Scaramouche saw himself in Dottore, relentlessly doing anything to fulfill his ambitions despite the burdening consequences left on others.
Nahida would tell Scaramouche he wasn’t like Dottore who had such a blatant disregard for life. Of course Scaramouche had done wrong, but he had never been taught otherwise in the fabricated lies that made the walls of his bedroom. In fact, such wrong doings had been enforced in such an environment created none other than by the harbinger in question. It did not excuse Scaramouche’s actions in any way, but it helped explain them. Maybe he was no different than Ei, but he did try to fix his actions and Nahida acknowledged that. It was one of the few reasons she still gave him a chance after he tried to alter Irminsul. It wasn’t done with any malicious intent. Although in the end nothing changed, it was the attempt to do the impossible that redeemed Scaramouche partially.
As much as Nahida tried to tell Scaramouche that he was different from Dottore, there were still some times that he spiraled and believed he wasn’t. In those moments though, Nahida had learned how to enter his thoughts and lull him to sleep with dreams of pleasanter thoughts. For in moments like that even the wisest archon could try to rationalize to Scaramouche that he was not Dottore until he had calmed himself and his mind could process any that Nahida told him.
That was why she was worried when Scaramouche told her that he would be taking a short trip outside of Sumeru to visit Dragonspine. She was sure that Scaramouche would be fine though, so reluctantly she encouraged him to go. She wasn’t going to stop him regardless, he was free to do what he wished. And if she really wished she could send a bird to watch after him, but she decided to give him independence.
Nahida had often told Scaramouche that he should see the rest of Teyvat, to which he always replied that he had already seen all of Teyvat which was mostly true. He’d seen every part of Teyvat except Dragonspine. He’d been to Mondstadt of course, but never to Dragonspine. He didn’t really consider it a part of Mondstadt, sure it was in the land of freedom’s jurisdiction, but it was more of a wild no man’s land. He had never had any need to go there before and because of the extreme cold he had avoided it in order to avoid revealing his non human identity when there was a lack of mist in his breath.
As expected Dragonspine was cold as ever, locked in its snowy peaks. Yet even the frostbitten winds were no match for what Scaramouche had experienced back in Snezhnaya. Scaramouche explored the mountains, simply looking for something interesting enough to amuse himself with. He met an odd alchemist dwelling in the depths of the mountain and stayed a night there. He could tell that the alchemist wasn’t human like him, but he didn’t ask about it. He had no right to ask someone’s true identity if he kept his hidden.
He spent a few days exploring the snowy peaks and the icy caves within. It wasn’t anything too unusual to him though. The skyfrost nail had a breathtaking view from the top, but the nail itself wasn’t like it was something he hadn’t seen before across other parts of Teyvat. Eventually, before settling to return back to Sumeru he decided to drift along one of the snow covered beaches.
There was almost a vortex-like blizzard that swarmed one end of Dragonspine. The cold didn’t bother Scaramouche, but his heart did warm as he picked up something drifting in the icy waters near the shore.
It was a message in a bottle. He still remembered when Kazuha had told him that he wrote messages in bottles and threw them out to sea, waiting for someone to read them and respond. Considering the beach they ended up in, Scaramouche was sure he was the first to read them besides maybe the passing frostarm lawachurl.
Scaramouche didn’t open the bottle yet though, he was scared. Was it selfish for him to take the bottle and read the message, knowing who it was coming from? Kazuha had said he wished someone found them and threw a message back out to sea to respond. For all that Scaramouche had done over the past months, he believed he deserved a moment of selfishness.
Under the cover of a cave and light of campfire, he uncorked the bottle, gently unwrapping the pristine parchment and revealing the message written in faded calligraphy. It was split into a few paragraphs.
To whomever this may concern, I have been throwing bottles to the seas for a while now, a message waiting for a receiver. Maybe these have been read by a few people or one person collecting them all or not at all, regardless I believe this will be my last message. As I write this, I await the presence of one that has captivated me from the first encounter. As I have said in my other bottles, these days I’m not much of an ambition seeker, more desperately trying to seek out a clearer future. I wish to have someone I can support and who can support me in their own striding ambitions. And now, I think I have met him, for the sake of privacy I will not write his name, but like me he is also an anemo vision user who hails from Inazuma, though I met him in Sumeru. I will send this bottle out later tonight after meeting with him. Maybe I will never end up sending this one, but I feel it is only proper to send out a last farewell to whoever if anyone has been reading these, I thank you.
The second part was written much more hastily, the strokes not as clear and more jagged. A drop of water stained the paper, and it was not from the sea.
Him whom I desired has revealed his conflicted past to me, his truth. And in turn he has left me in conflicted emotions. I still harbor an adoration for him, yet I cannot forgive what has happened. It is not as if he has not attempted to repent his actions though and fix his wrongdoings. In telling me the truth, he is attempting to do so, and although he has committed some atrocities, I trust him. He has confided in me and it is only fair that I do the same to him. In a rush of my own clouded thoughts and emotions, I told him to leave me alone for the time being, but now, only now after we have left the docks of Sumeru do I wish I spoke to him again before my departure. One of the other crew is still in contact with him, yet I am too afraid to say anything to him myself, for I do not believe I was fair that night. When he revealed his past to me, I did not tell him much of my own. I have always thought of myself to be one who is open to being vulnerable, yet I left myself guarded that night and in this current moment so in the off chance he is the receiver of this bottle, I will detail it here, for if you have read my other bottles then you should already know.
When I was born the Kaedehara clan had long fallen into despair. My mother died when I was young. I had never met her. My grandfather died when I was still a child and my father when I reached my adolescence. Despite being from a noble clan, such ideals were never pushed upon me and I was grateful for that. I believe my father knew that it was better to live life the way it was and in its simplest form, wandering around. As much as I loved wandering, it grows lonely. That was when I met my friend, he held an electro vision and was a fellow traveling samurai. I had always felt that wandering was such an empty ambition, with no true end goal, for it is fully focused on the journey and I feel any ambition needs a balanced mix of both. My friend had quite the ambition though, to deflect the Raiden Shogun’s Musou no Hitotachi or die trying, an impossible feat. Yet, in my comedy of him, he still gave me something to cling to until his untimely death in attempts to satisfy his ambition. I fled Inazuma in the height of the vision hunt decree, only to return later to fight in the civil war and later fulfill my friend’s ambition in the process. After that, I traveled with Beidou only to return to Inazuma once again, learning about the fall of my clan and the incident at Tartarasuna. Yet, that was not the truth, I would learn that once I journeyed to Sumeru and met the anemo vision user in question who revealed his truth and past to me. After that, I left Sumeru and that is where I lay now, up in the crow’s nest writing this message.
Well, that is my past, as for my future I am left uncertain. I do not know whether I will return to Sumeru, I wish to see him again, to talk with him, yet I find myself afraid of doing such a thing. No matter, the ship will return to Sumeru one day, it is only natural.
To whoever is reading this message, despite my falling out with the one in the focus of my mind, this will be my last message to be thrown out to see. So farewell and all good will to you, but before our last interaction, if anyone is reading this please send a message back written along the back of this parchment for it is only to indulge my curiosity to see if anyone is actually reading this.
Farewell,
Kaedehara Kazuha
Scaramouche hadn’t been sure what to think of the message, but he made sure to write one back and threw it out to sea. The chances of Kazuha receiving it were slim, but he could only hope. Kazuha’s message had given him hope though, it seemed the other could put the past behind him and accept Scaramouche for who he was now, but the opportunity was lost now. And although Kazuha said he might accept Scaramouche now, Scaramouche would not seek out Kazuha himself, for he could’ve changed his mind. He would still have to wait until Kazuha returned to Sumeru.
As Scaramouche walked along the snowy beach for the final time before returning back to Nahida, he found a few other bottles all written by Kazuha, some as old as a few years. He pocketed them all, but decided against writing responses, for just the one would do if fate was to have his message reach Kazuha. And unbeknownst to him, Scaramouche’s message washed up along the sands of the land of eternity to be picked up by a traveling samurai.
The past months had passed quite quickly, but in comparison the few days since his return had been spent with agonizing anticipation. Scaramouche would travel down to Port Ormos everyday to see the ships, always looking for a certain one carrying a samurai from abroad, but it never came. Days slowly turned into weeks and Scaramouche gave up on hope, he didn’t even know if Kazuha was still traveling with the Crux at this point.
Eventually, Scaramouche gave up on going down to the docks everyday, only going when requested by Nahida. He spent most of his time like he had before, helping out various civilians throughout Sumeru to keep himself busy with distractions. But today, unlike the last few days, Scaramouche decided to take a day just for himself. He hadn’t wanted to, but Nahida insisted that he should and he knew if he didn’t then he’d get a pack of aranara sent after him. And there was nothing more embarrassing than trying to fight a pack of rabid singing, dancing creatures that were invisible to most people in public.
So he gritted his teeth and sighed, placing a few bottles each filled with an individual message addressed to Kazuha in a satchel. When he threw the first bottle that he found at Dragonspine back written with his own message, he told himself that he only needed to send one. For if it was fate that they should be together, then the bottle would reach Kazuha, but months had passed on without any signs of Kazuha.
Fate was not a charted course though, it was a forged path. Scaramouche had campaigned through the waves of horrors in the abyss before, he could at least try to form his own fate. He didn’t care how desperate he looked in his attempts to do so.
At Port Ormos, Scaramouche rushed through the docks ignoring all of the boats as he tried to scan through them, but he wasn’t here for that today. Unbuckling his satchel, he reached the end of the boardwalk and pulled out the bottles one by one. The sun reflected off of the pristine glass in prismatic rays. Staring out to the sea through a bottle, Scaramouche still remembered when Kazuha had done that while giving his response to Scaramouche’s past. Now, Scaramouche was doing the same, but instead of sending an answer, he was sending a question. Did Kazuha still want to know him? To interact with him? He had long given up expecting any sort of romance, but was a companionship feasible between them?
Archons, Scaramouche felt so lonely and isolated as if he was a ghost despite being at the edge of the bustling harbor. For all that he was known for across Sumeru, he was still lonely, he had always been. Nahida’s companionship had helped disperse that loneliness briefly, but after meeting Kazuha it had become unquenchable. It felt insufferable to be away from the one that captivated him, the one that brought out the only self he liked.
Scaramouche wasn’t crying, if any passerby said he was he denied it. It was simply the salty ocean spray that had sprung itself into his eyes. And maybe that was true, but only partially. Scaramouche looked at the bottle in his hand, something so fragile yet important. He hoped one of them reached Kazuha, he wanted all of them too, but if just one did he’d be satisfied. He just wanted to know that he was out there somewhere.
As he hurled the bottles out to the sea they reflected the piercing rays of sunlight back at him. With every reflection off of the glass and dampened crash into the sea, a bolt tore through Scaramouche’s chest, injuring himself, but also ridding him of the disease he indured. It was the last return of hope before giving up and acceptance.
Each bottle unclasped the bonds laid upon his heart as his breathing heaved and his lungs relieved themselves of the long bared pressure. Scaramouche sat there with his knees swinging above the water, the satchel empty and his eyes blurry as the setting sun’s colors blurred the sky in hazy watercolor paints. The wind strummed the gentle chords of his brain. Was he happy? No, but he wasn’t sad, just simply satisfied in his own existence. He had done what he could to reach Kazuha and he accepted the fact that even if the other did receive the bottles that he might not want to write back. Scars from the past ran deep and no matter how long a scab stayed on such wounds, they would always scar. Overtime, those scars would fade, but never disappear and Scaramouche could accept that. His scars had faded and he had moved on as much as he could, but for others maybe they were still just as fresh.
The sun lay low along the horizon, almost drowning in the ruffling waves. Watching the sunset was such a trivial, pointless thing, but it was therapeutic, cathartic and that made it not so trivial anymore. It was a common occurrence, the sun would come back up and go back down the next day and the next one after that and for forever and ever, but it never saw the same world. With each cycle the world changed, the people changed, Scaramouche had changed. The sunset he watched now reminded him of the one he had watched in the crow’s nest with Kazuha.
“The sunset is quite beautiful, is it not, Scaramouche?” A gentle familiar voice appeared from behind Scaramouche, he thought he was hallucinating as his head turned back to see Kazuha standing right there. The samurai took a seat along the edge of the boardwalk next to Scaramouche, clasping their hands together.
“Kazuha, you came back-” Scaramouche’s voice was muffled and he tried to wipe away his tears, but before he could raise his hand Kazuha had done it for him.
“Look at me, Scara.” Kazuha used his hand to tilt Scaramouche’s chin and glossy eyes up to face him.
“It’s– it’s been a while…” Scaramouche had been waiting for this moment, but right now none of the words he planned came to his head and his throat filled with roses.
Kazuha smiled, “Indeed, it has, friend, I’ve been awaiting this moment for a while. I expected to find you greeting me on the Alcor once it came to the docks, but I think I prefer finding you again. I’ve heard stories about you, you’re different.”
“Different?”
“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get better, but here you are.”
“Kazuha…what are we?” Scaramouche gathered his meek voice to say something, the question that had been plaguing his mind every single night.
“Hmmm…” Kazuha shot him a knowing glance and a smirk, “Companions, lovers, I’m not sure myself. All I know, is ever since the Alcor left the docks of Sumeru, I haven’t felt the same. In every passing moment I craved your presence. Yet, I cannot lie to you and say that I was not mad when you first confided in me that night. And although I cannot fully forgive you for what you have done, I have realized that you have accepted and attempted to right your past, and you are a different person now in the present. I do not like to hold grudges against what would be the past, and in the present all I know is that I want to be with you. Leave what has happened in the past in the past, for we are in the future and should be able to look past that. I received the bottle that you had sent me, so I’m aware you also know my past. So, Scara, what are we?”
“We’re-” Scaramouche got cold feet as his breathing hitched and his vocal chords froze.
Kazuha smirked again, wrapping his arm around the other gently. “Perhaps I need to show you, may I kiss you Scaramouche?”
Scaramouche’s dazed mind nodded yes, as eagerly as he could, and what he wished was granted as Kazuha selfishly took Scaramouche’s lips to claim him as his own. Never had Scaramouche felt such a wave of admiration was over him as the lips that had grazed his own pulled back and the remnants of passion still entertained Scaramouche.
“Scaramouche, before meeting you I never believed in the concept of soulmates or such things, yet now I believe that I do. Love at first sight seemed an impossible concept, yet I found myself falling for you. Talking to you after that only enforced that and although we may have had a few hiccups, I’ve craved your presence since our parting. I love your drive, your seeking of your ambitions. I love the way you care to be upfront with me. I love the way you leave your emotions vulnerable enough to be open with me. Scaramouche, I love you.”
Scaramouche gulped down the emptiness in his throat, giddy excitement and anxiety shaking his body. He wanted to kiss Kazuha again, a million times over and over. But right now, he overcame the doubts in his throat and uttered out a few words. It was only fair Kazuha knew the way he loved him back.
“Kaedehara Kazuha, I adore the way you speak, the way your words calm my mind, the way you fight for yourself and defend those that you love. I may not be able to convey my feelings in flowery poetry, but I love you Kazuha, more than anything else.”
Scaramouche couldn’t resist it anymore, he pulled Kazuha close and kissed him over and over until he was silly. He couldn’t deny the way his heart fluttered when Kazuha was closer or how a blushing warmth flooded his cheeks everytime his lover whispered sweet compliments and affirmations in his ear.
Scaramouche would be forever indebted to Kazuha for the way he made him feel and no action he made would ever be able to repay his lover. Yet, relationships weren’t simply just exchanges, they were more than that. Whether it be companionship or romance, each had their own fulfillment in them that made Scaramouche feel whole again. The world had sprung anew and Scaramouche had changed and learned with it. There was no balancing the books in a relationship because it was impossible to balance the scales. There was nothing that could ever reach the brink of equating to the time he spent with his lover and Scaramouche was satisfied with that.
The next time the Alcor set sail from the harbor, a new figure had joined its crew, hands held with a certain samurai.