Chapter Text
In the morning, you dress yourself in active appropriate clothing, still honing into your Inazuman aesthetics with your long sleeved kimono top. Upon leaving your room, you find that Scaramouche is already up for whatever reason, doing chores around the house, and strangely enough, the atmosphere is rather peaceful despite Scaramouche and Mother being in the same room. With no customers around, the three of you enjoyed the tranquility of the silence that flooded the air. Not hoping to break it, when you usher Qiqi in to drink some coconut milk, you make sure to let her know to speak a little quieter than usual.
She nods, telling you that she would order herself to do so. Prior to leaving the vicinity to head towards the mountains, you let Qiqi know that Scaramouche would be joining the two of you, and much to your surprise, with a simple scroll through her book, she had remembered Scaramouche, or at least the endearing nickname she had given to him– ‘Big Brother’.
Shockingly, your mother bids you, Qiqi and Scaramouche a good day. When you exit the shop, Qiqi quickly rushes up towards Scaramouche, asking him to lift her up over his shoulders. He does so with a smile. On the road to the mountains, you lean over to gauge Scaramouche’s expression, pretending to brush back loose strands of hair from covering your face.
You realize he looks a little more human today, his features less rigid, more relaxed, looking almost giddy in its most refrained sense. While he listens to Qiqi chatter about a pair of finches flying overhead– something you found was probably her favorite animal– Scaramouche nods, his tone friendly as he replies to her, sounding unlike himself with how his tone of voice had risen a little.
You gaze at his soft expression from the corner of your peripherals, feeling the sun shine down above you three, despite the cool weather.
Mother bidding him farewell was a tremendous step forward, and followed by Qiqi’s insistence to be carried over his shoulders– he must’ve been secretly happier today. You let out a soft sigh, unable to help yourself from wishing him well. It was still a little strange to you, getting along with him well enough to not mind his presence anymore. Change was… a strange thing, and something most certainly inevitable in your life.
Amidst your herb picking, distracted in your thoughts, you nearly don’t hear Qiqi ask you what you had been thinking about. “Big Sister,” Qiqi begins, hopping over towards you as you lean down to pick off a few greens from the ground. She waits for you to turn to face her before continuing, “what are you thinking about?” You halt, raising your eyebrows up at her as you slowly rise from your kneeling position, brushing off the dirt on your knees before smiling.
“It’s nothing, Qiqi,” you hum, bending your torso forwards to give her the batches of herbs you had collected in pouches into her basket, “Big Sister is just feeling a little sentimental today.” You retreat, standing straight up as you scan your surroundings, your eyes skimming over bright leaves and oak branches in search of a familiar shadow that for whatever reason had decided to cling a little less to you today. “Where’s Big Bro?” You thought it was a little silly, using the nicknames she had given to the both of you, but you used them in hopes she would remember the two of you for all eternity.
Qiqi stares up at you, her eyes wide as she presses a finger to her chin, looking absorbed in her thoughts for a second before she finally comes to a conclusion, “Qiqi thinks,” she starts, pointing her fingers over by the edge of a cliff just in the distance, “he’s over there.”
You flicker your eyes over to the direction she had been pointing at, your eyes searching for the familiar dark hues of color, and when you see nothing, you shrug with a smile, reaching a hand over to her. “Come on, Qiqi,” you begin, still a little distracted with the thoughts that had flooded your mind, “let’s go see what he’s up to.”
Qiqi nods, her tiny, cold pale hand reaching over your own warm hand, and you make sure to keep a delicate grip on her, not wanting to hurt her in any way as the two of you amble off towards the cliff. Reaching the clearing, you scan your surroundings once more, unsure of where your husband has been, until you find yourself ultimately attracted to clamoring just at the bottom of the cliff.
You let go of Qiqi, your eyes sharpening as you hear voices echo over one another. Qiqi hopes to follow you, and you gasp when you suddenly see her small frame plop to the ground next to you, her basket in her arms falling off the edge of the cliff.
You immediately lower yourself, helping Qiqi up with an expression of sincere concern, “Qiqi!” You huff, wiping the bits of dirt off her face, “Are you okay?”
Qiqi blinks twice, staring at you blankly before raising her arms, pressing her hands on the paper seal atop her head. She feels at the seal, smoothing it out, before turning her head to the side, acknowledging with the small rock she had tripped over with a frown. And then it hits her. “Ah,” she begins, sounding a little sad as she turns her head to look over at the edge of the cliff, “my herbs..?”
You follow her gaze, pursing your lips.
You stand at the edge of the cliff, surveying the scenery meters below you. A group of Fatui sat at the bottom– a whole crew. One of Tartaglia's troops, you had figured. Qiqi hums next to you, sounding pleased as a pair of footsteps approach you from behind. You don’t bother to turn your head to look at Scaramouche as he stands next to you, handing Qiqi a bunch of herbs he had gathered as he speaks, “They’ll pose no risk to us for as long as we remain over the cliff,” Scaramouche surmises, his irises flickering towards the side of your face as you begin to look weary. “Did you want me to take care of them?” He inquires as Qiqi tugs at his hand, “It won’t even take a second.”
“No,” you quickly reply, turning to look at him with a slight glare, “no, we can’t have you do that,” you brush your hands together. You had no doubt that the Fatui were still on the hunt for Scaramouche, since he contained vital information that could possibly strike the Fatui down and halt their operations. “Besides,” you huff, “the issue here is the basket– it had tipped over.”
As if to reconfirm your words, Scaramouche looks off to the side, eying Qiqi who looked up at him rather happily, despite having lost her basket. You hum, taking a step forward, much to Scaramouche’s alarm. You had no choice but to fight if you had to, though you knew that you should at least try to keep civil. You knew the Fatui, a stranger like you walking up to their camp with only the hopes of retrieving a fallen basket filled with herbs– in a place like this? It was rather suspicious, considering how high in the mountains you were. They could never just let you go back without impeding your existence there.
“I’ll go fetch it,” you declare as you drag a dagger out from underneath your kimono’s sleeves, retracting the blade from your wrist’s sheath, “I’d much rather prefer your identity in Liyue remains hidden from the knowledge of the Fatui,” you pull your lips into a thin line, “it would be troublesome to our shop if they began to raid us, and I wouldn’t want to cause Lord Tartaglia to stress any further over this. I’ll try not to injure them more than I should, of course, ” just as you are about to descend, Scaramouche tugs you backwards, grabbing onto your wrist, and when you turn to look at him again, you’re surprised to see that his eyes are wide, his lips pulled taut.
You stare at him, your eyes narrowed onto his own. You recognize that strange look in his eyes. You purse your lips, gently tugging yourself out of his grasp, “I’ll be okay,” you slowly say, watching as his gaze hardens onto your features. Reluctantly, he lets you go.
Qiqi watches the exchange between the two of you with curious eyes, her magenta colored eyes bright as they flicker back and forth between the two of you.
You casually twirl your dagger in your hand, backing away onto the edge as you allow a smile to grace your lips, “I’ll be back,” you softly begin, feeling your heels dig into the ground below you as you step off the cliff, “and if I die,” his eyes flash dangerously, though you pay no heed to it as you allow the weight of your body to press towards your torso, “maybe you can bring me back a third time?” You can’t help but smile as your eyes turn towards the sky, watching as Scaramouche’s body pops into view, his hand trembling to reach out to you.
It was a familiar sight, he had to admit. One that he would rather never see again, the sight of you leaving him, falling off the edge of a cliff– but things were different this time. He was certain of it. Feeling Qiqi’s hand on his own, he clenches his outstretched hand into a fist, the edges of his lips curling into a smirk as he glares down at you, watching as you effortlessly flip in the air to land on your legs.
He supposed he should trust in you a little more, and abolish whatever lingering thoughts threatened to chain down his mind.
Qiqi attempts to peer over the cliff, only to be pulled back by Scaramouche as he pulls her up with a swing, cradling her in his arms so that she sits comfortably by his chest. Scaramouche smiles up at her, shutting his eyes, “Big Sis went to get your basket,” Scaramouche begins, his tone slathered with saccharine, “shall we go meet her?”
Qiqi stares at him for a moment, as though to gauge his words tentatively before finally nodding, “Okay,” Scaramouche is momentarily stunned as Qiqi leans into him, wrapping her lithe arms around his neck, pulling him into a short embrace, “can we please stay in the shade? The wind is cold, but the sun feels hot…”
Scaramouche hums, pressing his lips together as he descends from the cliff, cradling her gently. Of course Qiqi wouldn’t enjoy the sun, it probably made her feel rotten. “Whatever you want, Qiqi,” he smiles when Qiqi presses herself further into the embrace at his words. He stops mid step, listening as the wind carries over the scent of blood, followed by the sounds of yelling.
Ah, he thinks to himself, shutting his eyes, the screams never got old.
With Qiqi in his arms, Scaramouche descends the mountain in hopes to meet you.
The three of you reconvene a little ways away from the Fatui camp. You carry the basket in your hands, a sharp glare on your features as you survey the area around you, and upon seeing Qiqi and Scaramouche, you feel your heart lighten automatically. You rush to their side, a smile on your lips as you stretch an arm towards Qiqi, “Here you go,” you start, “I made sure to add a little more herbs I could find around here. I think that means we’re done for the day, right?” You tilt your head up at her as she gazes down at you from her perch on Scaramouche’s arm.
Qiqi nods, reaching out for the basket with Scaramouche’s help, “Thank you, Big Sis…” She scans the items in the basket, pleased to find that there were more herbs in there than she had initially thought, “Yes, we’ve gathered enough… I feel warm…”
Scaramouche’s eyes narrow at her, shifting more towards the shade again as he scans an area that looked relatively untouched by the sunlight, “Is this better?”
“No,” Qiqi replies, eying the contents in the basket, “not a bad type of warm… Qiqi feels warm in her chest, in a good way… Both of you make Qiqi happy, I think.”
When your eyes meet with Scaramouche’s own, you feel embarrassed. You turn your eyes away from him, unaware of how he does the same. Scaramouche looks off to the side, his eyes flickering back from Qiqi’s blank expression towards you, before noticing you had some blood on your cheek. With his free hand, he reaches over to you, and when the skin of his fingers touch your cheek, you flinch, letting out a little noise as you look at him, your face warm.
“Relax,” Scaramouche scoffs, looking amused at your flushed expression, “just some dirt on you,” he swipes his thumb along the spot of blood, effectively wiping it away as you brush his hand away from your face.
“I can do it myself,” you casually reply, trying to erase the feeling of warmth in your chest as Qiqi eyes you. “Let’s go back to town now,” you conclude with a smile upon noticing her wandering magenta eyes on your features, “let’s play around a little before you return to Doctor Baizhu, okay?”
Qiqi cheers in the most enthusiastic voice she can manage, throwing her arms up in the air, causing Scaramouche to move his head back as his gaze flickers back to Qiqi, who seemed content in her position in his arms. “Careful,” Scaramouche warns Qiqi, “the basket might spill again.”
“Again?” Qiqi tilts her head.
Scaramouche shakes his head with a smile, swiveling around to begin their journey down by the city. When you start to walk along with them, carefully trailing behind Scaramouche, you find yourself zoning in and out, your mind revisiting old memories as you trail behind the two of them, listening to them talk with one another. You don’t notice Scaramouche stop in his steps to wait for you, and when you finally realize it, he’s right next to you.
“Something on your mind, darling?” Scaramouche inquires with a light tone, his eyes scanning your downtrodden expression, surveying you as your features suddenly become void of emotion altogether.
You shake your head, staring off into the distance as you begin your walk again, pressing a hand on the handle of your dagger to make sure it had been safely slotted into its spot underneath the sleeves of your kimono.
Scaramouche pipes up once again, “So,” he starts carefully, “how did it go?” He had meant to talk about the Fatui group from earlier, you supposed.
“Just knocked them out,” you simply say, not feeling too talkative.
“You still have it in you, then?” His response elicits a scoff from your mouth, and you reply with a deep sense of spite.
Shutting your eyes, you let out a miffed sigh, “What’s that supposed to mean?” You snicker, “Of course I do. It would take a lot more than that to do anything to me,” you open your eyes to toss him a small glare from your peripherals, turning your head ever so slightly, “just because I’ve been living earnestly and peacefully, doesn’t mean I would suddenly forget the way of the knife.” If you had to be honest with yourself, your bladework was something you were quite proud of.
Honing your daggers, imbuing them with fire, you loved it all– it was another form of stress relief to you, an art– something you hoped to work continuously on to master. You had worked hard to be a skillful marksman, you earned your spot as a Fatui member through your hard work alone. “Don’t get too comfortable with me,” you sharply add on, “I might be your wife, but I’m sure you’re well aware of how easily I can burn away this ‘new leaf’ we’ve turned over. One day, you might wake up to a knife by your throat,” you had no real reason for threatening him, other than to impose yourself over him. His words burned your ego a little, so you had decided to childishly spout back.
When a moment of silence passes, you can’t help but feel slight regret in your words. You were doing it again, doubling back on your words. Change truly was a hard thing to attain. You don’t apologize, however. Instead, you purse your lips and walk a little faster– and when a hand meets your bottom suddenly with a light smack, you jump, visibly startled.
You pause in your steps, turning your head to glare at Scaramouche, despite the heat rising to your cheeks as you grit your teeth, feeling anger bloom rapidly within you. “What the hell are you doing,” you hiss under your breath, having completely forgotten about Qiqi for a moment, and when your eyes meet her own you freeze up altogether.
Scaramouche smiles at you, his smile belligerent, as though to make fun of you. When Qiqi turns to face him, he puts on a fictitious expression, his smile disappearing into a pout as his eyes turn weary, “Big Sister is so scary, isn’t she?” His words cause you to balk, all anger leaving you as Qiqi’s magenta hued irises flicker over to you, scanning your features.
“Mhm,” Qiqi reluctantly agrees, leaning in towards Scaramouche once more, seemingly content in his arms as she shuts her eyes.
“Qiqi,” you flush, biting your lip when you notice Scaramouche is smirking at you, his eyes narrowed, “It’s not like that at all! I’m not a scary person!” Your tone is light, sounding desperate, earning a soft snicker from Scaramouche as he tosses you a derisive smile. Scaramouche leans his head towards Qiqi, watching as your expression becomes angrier with every passing second, his smile only growing as a result. You glare at him, feeling as though you would explode if he had kept this act up, “You’re demonizing me!”
Scaramouche jumps to the side, as though to avoid you, and when Qiqi peers over to look at you, you feel stone cold. “How scary, she’s transforming into a monster,” Scaramouche whispers, “should we run away from the monster?”
You clench your fists. You were going to kill him.
With one last look he tosses over at you, his tongue out as though to make fun of you, you give chase to the two of them. Qiqi looks over at you as you speed from behind them, clearly enraged, and when she looks over at Scaramouche, Qiqi presses her lips together. Scaramouche’s smile was wide, a grin on his face as he shut his eyes, racing past the trees while carrying Qiqi in his arms.
Qiqi shuts her eyes. She hopes the warm feeling in her chest doesn’t ever stop.
The three of you stop by a village not too far from Liyue Harbor, allowing Qiqi to bide her time by making friends with a few finches she had found nibbling away at seedlings on the floor. Scaramouche and yourself settle on a stone wall just a few meters away from her, watching her from afar.
Your husband and yourself were fairly quiet, for the most part, remaining in absolute silence as the two of you watched Qiqi, absorbing the peaceful atmosphere surrounding the two of you as Qiqi shifted over to the shade. After some time, you’re first to break the silence, “That’s quite mean of you,” you start, pressing your fingers down onto the rocks just beneath you to pull yourself back a little, “you were making me seem evil in front of Qiqi…” You trail off, picking up a small pebble to your side and tossing it in the air.
“You were making yourself look like a bumbling idiot,” Scaramouche comments with a roll of his eyes, slouching forward, “talking about pressing a knife to my throat in front of a child.” You withhold a sigh. You had honestly forgotten she was there at the time, feeling your pride get the best of you. “Besides, she won’t remember,” Scaramouche frowns, watching as Qiqi kneeled down to hold a seedling out towards one of the finches, “all our moments from today, good or bad… She’ll forget it all.”
You can’t help but notice how forlorn Scaramouche sounded, saying those words. “It can’t be helped,” you try to reason, ignoring the blistering of your own heart, “that’s how she is. Maybe it’s better for her, that way– I mean, ” you continue, sounding unsure of yourself, “at least she won’t remember any painful memories. She can live ideally, living in the state of ‘now’, as opposed to the past. She won’t have to think about the things that hurt her, or why she got here, or why she is still here.”
Scaramouche scoffs.
“You sound pathetic right now, darling,” Scaramouche doesn’t bother to hide his animosity as he tosses you a short glare, “are you envying her?”
His words cause you to stiffen up, your grip on the rocks below you tightening as you watch Qiqi from afar, making small trails for the birds, leading towards her. The reality of his words choke you, feeling like a coil around your neck as you come to a realization. You did envy her, just a little bit. You lower your gaze in shame, feeling your chest grow cold as you look at your own feet, allowing your hair to obscure your face.
Scaramouche doesn’t say anything. He allows you to mull over your thoughts in silence, until Qiqi begins to approach the two of you. Qiqi stops at her steps, eying the two of you, pressing a hand to her chin as her gaze flickered back and forth between you and Scaramouche. Noticing her look of conflict, Scaramouche can’t help but smile.
“Come here, Qiqi,” he begins with a light tone, holding his arms out, “you like me better, don’t you?” His words cause you to snap out of your reverie, and immediately you turn your eyes upwards, looking at Qiqi in slight disbelief as she takes a step towards Scaramouche.
“Ah,” you sigh, feigning exhaustion as Qiqi takes another step towards Scaramouche, “I have so much coconut milk in the fridge,” you hold back a smile as Qiqi’s next step falters, her gaze becoming uncertain as she turns her head to look at you, “Qiqi, do you want more coconut milk?” You inquire with an innocence that even causes Scaramouche to snicker.
And in seconds, Qiqi is in your arms, embracing you, and you laugh, lifting her up to your chest with a short huff. You toss Scaramouche a small winning smile, looking far too proud of yourself, to which Scaramouche rolls his eyes, giving you a glare in response.
Watching as you play with Qiqi in your arms, Scaramouche sighs, “You’re such a cheater,” he plainly comments, “you don’t play fair at all.”
You raise an eyebrow up at him, keeping your smile on your lips, “The Fatui have never taught me how to play ‘fair’, ” you jokingly reply, “besides, ever since you came to Liyue, Qiqi’s been hugging me less and less because she likes you better, so let me have this moment for myself, at least!” You turn your head back towards Qiqi, “Coconut milk forever, right Qiqi?”
“Forever,” Qiqi replies as enthusiastically as she can, raising her arms to the air as you lift her up, careful not to add too much pressure to her, “coconut milk..!”
You laugh at her restrained huff as you put her back down onto your lap, unaware of Scaramouche’s constant gaze on the side of your face until he starts to hum in interest.
"It would be nice to have children, wouldn't it?" Scaramouche hums to himself, "Should we have children, darling?”
You choke on your own spit, bursting into a fit of coughs as you place Qiqi down onto the floor, attempting to be as gentle as you could as you sputter to your side. You feel your face burn as his words completely register in your mind, and you glance at him for a quick second before looking back at Qiqi, your face still red as she looks up at you quizzically. “Q-Qiqi,” you start, attempting to keep a neutral tone, “um… Do you think you can pick some flowers from over there?” You point towards the sea of flowers and bunches of trees just ahead, “Please grab just a few for me and... Big Brother, okay?” You bite your lip, feeling your confidence slightly slip as his words resounded in your mind.
Qiqi nods, “Qiqi will order herself to get some flowers then,” Qiqi declares before turning around and hopping off towards the sea of flowers.
When she’s finally out of earshot, you let out a loud sigh, unable to hold your frustrations back as you glare at Scaramouche, throwing a pebble by his feet as you hiss, your face lit aflame, “What’s gotten into you!?” You hiss, grimacing when he nonchalantly leans backwards, “You want children all of the sudden!?”
“Well,” Scaramouche begins, “didn’t you want kids anyway? I remember you mentioning it briefly.” His indigo irises find your own, his expression remaining still as he smirks at you, “I’ll grant your wish, then.”
“N-No,” you hiss again, clenching your hands into fists, “it doesn’t work like that! You,” you gesture towards him, “don’t work like that! If you did then…” Scaramouche’s smile widens, his eyes narrowing onto your form as you shiver, ripping your gaze away from his own as you lean away from him, “Then… You know,” you hate how nervous you sounded, “we’d have one right now.”
“Wrong,” Scaramouche pressed on, enjoying your embarrassed expression, “we’d have at least two by now-” You cut him off, refusing to entertain his perverted pleasures in embarrassing you.
“Just,” you grimace, shaking your head, “shut up, please,” you sigh, looking over at him with a glare, “I did want children. I can’t have them with you, and that’s fine by me,” you shrug, “I already deal with you in my life. It’d be troublesome to deal with another copy of you...” You could hardly imagine another fellow menace with Scaramouche’s horrid smirk running around and about. Or rather, you preferred not to think about it altogether. Scaramouche on the other hand… Had apparently been thinking about such a thing for a while now.
“I could say the same,” Scaramouche sighs, his eyes flickering off to the side as he watches a white butterfly flutter towards him, “I already deal with a brat like you. But,” he sneers, reaching a hand out for the butterfly, and when it lands on his index finger, he continues, “maybe it wouldn't be too bad to have a few kids, looking like you, running amok.”
You avert your gaze to look at the butterfly on his finger, a feeling of anxiety growing within you that feels suspiciously familiar. Noticing your worried expression, Scaramouche blows gently at the butterfly, eying it as it unfolded its wings to fly away, allowing a smirk to grace his lips as he turned to look at you once more, “Don’t you think so, darling?”
His expression is serene, and your eyes widen for a moment. Scaramouche looked so different in this light, with the scenery all bright and sunny around his frame. His warm expression seemed to only be illuminated further, and when a gentle breeze billows past the both of you, you feel your heart stop in your chest. You shake your head in response to his question, despite the fluttering of your heart pacing within your chest.
You lean forwards, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek. You’ve always found him attractive, and with recent developments now, your thoughts towards him only have gotten better as of late. You shut your eyes, placing a soft kiss onto his cheek, allowing your lips to linger on the spot before you completely pull away, returning his surprised gaze with a smile which seemed to rival the sun’s brilliance.
Scaramouche’s breath hitches at his throat.
There it was again, that strange pull in his chest– the reminiscent feeling of divinity bundling and spreading all throughout his system. How you made him feel this way, without the gnosis in him, perhaps he would never know, and neither did he care to find out.
There is an echo of something familiar that blooms in Scaramouche’s chest, and when it spreads throughout his system, he feels his cheeks grow warm. Scaramouche lifts a hand, raising it to meet your own hand which had been resting on his cheek. Times like these, he felt strangely reassured.
A part of him still desired the gnosis, if not for the power it brought to him, then the heavenly discord of emotions it had stirred from his bosom. The other half believed himself to be fine without it. Being held like this made him realize that either way, he was desired, by you, and Ei. Spending time in the mortal realm, working away at things he believed to be useless, the bonds he had cemented and reformed with the help of others– it had made him realize a few things about himself. Essentially, he had come to a finality that whatever the world had to offer him, he would make sure to take it up on its offers.
Pressing onto your hand, he leans into your touch, his eyes narrowing, flooding with an emotion so pure. He had his moments like this, whereas instead of his usual look, tinged with darkness, he would look at you as though you were everything in the world, born into one body.
Scaramouche finds himself breaking the silence, “..I’ve been thinking about asking you again for some time now but,” he pauses, his eyes scouring your expression as he falters on his words, hesitating, “would you like to live with me for all eternity?” This had been a burning question within him, as it was the very reason for his arduous studies on the arcane. Under this fake, blue sky, he hoped to at least attain a virtuous life with you by his side.
His words cause your eyes to widen, your expression nearly collapsing altogether as your smile wanes.
“I’ve been researching arcane magics in my spare time, both in Inazuma with Ei, and in Liyue to further my studies. It would be ideal, me and you– we can travel the world together, see the world and whatever other experiences it could have to offer for the two of us. We can keep Qiqi company, too, since she is immortal,” Scaramouche’s mind is running wild, and when he attempts to grasp himself, he finds himself slipping away immediately, “we can all stay together. For all eternity.”
For all eternity.
You purse your lips into a tight smile, gazing into his irises which seemed to only exude a hopefulness that felt as though it would swallow you in. His words haunt you, serving as grim reminders from long ago. Echoes from the past that refused to leave your mind, being engraved into you… Your smile nearly falls completely as you retort to him, your voice kind, filled with an airiness, “That’s impossible, Kunikuzushi,” you manage to say, watching as his expression collapses.
Scaramouche’s lips pull into a firm, thin line, his eyes betraying him as flickers spark within the depths of his indigo irises, and you await for the fireworks to come to life. When nothing happens, you press on, his hand still pressed onto yours, albeit, with a little more weight added to it than earlier. “I want to live the rest of my life,” you tilt your head, averting your eyes to the floor, “as a mortal. I've never had an intention to live eternally, though you wish it to be so.”
You try to pull your hand away from him, only to find that his grip around your hand is firm. Returning your gaze back onto his face, you notice that there is a bitter look in his eyes akin to betrayal and anger, though when you maintain a steady façade, the anger fizzes out into an icy, understanding glare. Scaramouche peels your hand off the side of his face, eying the ring on your finger for a moment.
“I can’t bring myself to stay here for all eternity,” you confess with a calm tone, your eyes remaining on his as he brushes a finger over your marriage ring, “especially for you.” Scaramouche’s indigo hued irises flicker back onto your face, a scowl stretching on his lips at your words, “I suppose you can consider this my curse to you, Kunikuzushi,” your smile is kind, despite the bitterness of your words, “that you only find your happiness within me for as long as I live,” you tug your hand away from him with little to no effort, turning your hand inwards towards yourself as you look at the silver band on your finger. You remove it for just a moment, peeling the beauty of the silver to peer at the marring image of his teeth, scraping along your skin.
“And after that,” you continue, “you might think you’re alone. You won’t be, of course,” you scoff, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, “you will always have Ei and so many others,” there’s a mysterious smile that spreads on your lips– a smile that Scaramouche is captivated by. “Passing by myself is my last wish,” you were content in knowing that. If you were to spend the rest of your waking life with him, then so be it– you would let it happen. It made you satisfied, knowing your life was finite.
Scaramouche peers at you for a moment, his expression inconceivable, “So you do plan to leave me alone in the end,” his voice is a matter of fact, his tone blank as he turns his head away to gaze at Qiqi as she rummaged through a few flowers, “I presume this is your punishment to me… A sort of revenge, even.”
“I don't mind that we learn to love one another," your voice is strangely distant, "however I still can't truly forgive you for all your faults. If anything, I'm restoring the natural order of my life by remaining mortal. For the lives you’ve taken from me,” you add on, leaning forwards to get a better look at him, “for the countless times you’ve hurt me, yes,” you admit without rancor, “this is the outcome I truly hope for in the end. Surely,” you think to test him, “you would listen to my wishes…”
Scaramouche doesn’t say anything for a while. He just sits still, a brief silence falling over the both of you before he finally decides to perk up, “How brutal," he comments, his voice oddly soft.
You don’t comment on the gentility of his tone, “Even so, this is the one thing I will remain adamant on. I think it’s fair to say that you’ve gotten mostly everything you’ve vied for,” you shift in your seat, your eyes remaining on his form, “and I am still pursuing peace with you and I. If you have your fair share of things you've vied for, then why can't I?”
“I thought we had both decided to turn a new leaf over. Is this a part of your many tricks, darling? ” Scaramouche sounds bitter, though you don’t hold it against him, “Or do you mean to prove me right in how humans are unlikely to change their ways?” His words hit a mark within you. You remain silent, listening to him continue, “Am I still to pay for so much? You would dare take the very thing I treasure most away from me in the end,” his irises gleam violet in the light of the sun as he glares at you.
You shut your eyes, relaxing into your seat. You were already aware he wouldn’t take this well. “I have changed my ways for you, however, prior to the lifeline within me,” you press a hand to your chest, “I had been fully content in living as a human. I intend to keep it that way. Besides, living for all eternity, seeing loved ones pass left and right,” you sigh, pursing your lips, “I don’t think I could ever bear to live through it without becoming miserable.” You could hardly imagine the pains immortals had, burdened onto their shoulders– the countless deaths they’ve witnessed and whatnot. You toss him an expectant look, waiting for him to respond, only to find that he is permanently scowling, his expression riddled with a refrained sense of sorrow.
“You wouldn’t have to deal with such things alone,” Scaramouche scoffs, sounding offended by your words, “you would have me.”
You snicker, “If you really think you’ll be lonely, then I’m sure you’ll have someone else waiting for you in the future,” you think to roll your eyes, “you only really liked me for my butterfly pin initially anyway, right? The pretty crimson red color you admire so much . Maybe someone else in the future will come by and–!” You gasp as a spark of electricity lands by your hand when you attempt to settle it onto the stone wall, your eyes wide with shock, which quickly turns into anger as you realize who it had come from. You glare at Scaramouche, about to remark on his behavior until you notice the look on his face.
“Is your head made of bricks? Don’t be stupid,” Scaramouche hisses under his breath, his face contorted with an expression that you found made you feel guilty, “don’t you remember what I told you last night?” You blink twice, trying to remember his words. “That dumb pin isn’t the reason why I’m with you. I told you already,” Scaramouche pauses, his tone becoming softer, despite his troubled expression as he turns his head to look at Qiqi, who had been wandering over to him, holding a few orchids and jasmine flowers in hand.
You clench your teeth, feeling your heart swell as you remember his words.
You are permanently indispensable. You were precious under his eyes. That’s what he had professed, anyway.
You eye Qiqi as she outstretches a few of the flowers to Scaramouche, and then to yourself. You reach for the small bouquet of flowers Qiqi had made for you, and as you’re bunching them into your hands carefully, Scaramouche suddenly gives his flowers to you. You accept them, not thinking twice as you scan his face.
Scaramouche stares at you intensely, his gaze burning with seriousness as his hands wrap around your own, “Take me a little more seriously, won’t you?” Your eyes widen as he suddenly nears you, and you freeze up, shutting your eyes tightly when you think he would give you a kiss. Scaramouche’s lips graze past your cheek, his lips settling by your ear as he continues, “As much as you enjoy playing with my feelings, I don’t like it when you tell me to search for other partners. It’s starting to piss me off a little, actually,” you turn your head a little to get a better look at Qiqi, who seems to be staring at the both of you with wide eyes as your cheeks flush red, his lips right against your ear now since you had turned your head, “having to deal with knowing you wish to part from me at some point is another thing entirely. I do enjoy having you as my wife, whether you like to admit it or not. I’ve always enjoyed your company, otherwise you would be far from me right now. ”
You gulp, holding onto the bouquet tightly as he pulls away from you, his eyes gleaming mischievously at the sight of your warmth in your cheeks. Scaramouche hums, supposedly amused by your reaction, “Hmm,” he hums, “are you understanding my words, darling? I’m sure that I don’t have to repeat myself to drill it into that small brain of yours.”
You scowl at him, narrowing your eyes onto his features before you attempt to remain neutral, brushing off his words despite how aggravated they had made you. You wanted to look composed in front of Qiqi, at the very least, despite your flushed cheeks. Qiqi speaks up from next to you, tugging on the sleeve of your kimono, “Did Qiqi forget anything?” She inquires, sounding a little worried as she gazes up at you, “I picked up the prettiest flowers I could find,” you tilt your head, watching as she pulls out her note book from behind her.
Qiqi scans through the pages before finding finally humming, “There it is,” she whispers to herself before flipping the notebook over towards you and Scaramouche, allowing the two of you to view her fine small pieces of art, “jasmine and orchids. Was that all Qiqi had to do for today?”
You scan her for a moment before noticing the time, realizing it was already in the middle of the afternoon, “Oh,” you exhale with a small apologetic smile, grasping the flowers in your hand before carefully placing them next to you, “it’s already getting late for you, isn’t it? Doctor Baizhu must be getting a little worried,” you laugh lightheartedly, leaning forward to pat her head, “let’s get you back to the pharmacy now, okay?”
Qiqi hums, nodding appreciatively, and just as you and Scaramouche are about to get up, Qiqi lets out a small, strange noise that catches your attention. “Big Sis,” she tugs on the sleeve of your kimono to get your attention, and when she has your eyes on her, she reaches to grab Scaramouche’s sleeve. With a light tug, his attention is brought to her as well, his eyes narrowing onto her form as he offers her a sweet smile.
“What is it, Qiqi?” Scaramouche inquires as Qiqi turns to the back of her book, her magenta hued irises grazing over her own writing.
“I almost forgot to tell you two…” Qiqi starts, rereading her own words before turning her gaze upwards towards the both of you, “I wrote down a list of things that made me happy today so I wouldn’t forget. Qiqi was really happy today, I think…” She shows the page to the both of you once more, and when you scan it, your heart stops.
How can a child be so cute? You refrain from averting your eyes as you scan the page, feeling warmth build in you as your heart pounded in your chest. You felt like you were going to die.
Scaramouche hums next to you, scanning the page as his eyes narrow, his smile widening at the sight of her neat writing, “Hmm,” he snickers, noticing your burning cheeks. Resuming a playful tone, he tosses Qiqi a small pout as you tremble next to him, feeling as though you would combust at any second, “and here I thought Big Brother was Qiqi’s favorite, and yet,” his eyes flicker towards you as one of his hands snake around your waist, causing you to freeze up completely, “what’s this? How unlucky for me, it looks like Big Sister has all the attention today.”
Scanning the list again, you realize that Scaramouche’s name is written only three times in comparison to yours, which had been listed at least twice as much as his name. You offer Qiqi a sweet smile, feeling your heart melt at the sight of a particular sentence she had written down, “You wrote down my smile as one of the things that made you happy?” Pressing a hand by your lips, you attempt to hide your smile, feeling shy as Qiqi nods before you, her face remaining still as she ambles towards you, putting her notebook in the space between you and Scaramouche’s seats.
“Like the sun,” Qiqi points at the bright sun in the sky before pointing back at you, “warm and bright. Makes Qiqi feel warm in a good way, too. ”
“I thought Qiqi didn’t like the sun,” Scaramouche comments snarkily under his breath as his eyes flicker towards you for a moment.
You ignore him. “My smile is like the sun?” You point at yourself before, feeling your cheeks warm greatly. “Ah, you’re adorable Qiqi,” you lean down a little, patting her head as she shuts her eyes before you, leaning onto your lap, “I’m happy spending time with you too, thank you…”
Qiqi suddenly pulls away, pressing her own fingers at the corner of lips, attempting to pull them upwards, “Qiqi wants to smile. Is this good?” You lightheartedly laugh at her silliness, nodding as you gaze down at her.
“That’s good, Qiqi. Qiqi is cute with or without a smile,” you pat her head, brushing away fly away strands of hair and putting them back into place carefully. “Now,” you slowly start, standing up from your seat and patting the dirt off your clothes, “I think we should get going now. We’ll walk you a little ways to Bubu Pharmacy, okay?”
Qiqi nods, humming in agreement before turning to Scaramouche. “Please, carry me?” She raises her arms in front of Scaramouche, and immediately, the eccentric male laughs, carefully scooping her up into his arms as he stands next to you.
"I don’t know Qiqi,” he sighs jokingly, “I’m a little hurt I was the last thing on your list,” he jokingly says, chuckling when Qiqi wraps his arms around his neck further as a result. Narrowing his eyes, Scaramouche looks at you with a small, irritable smirk, “Well, at least I didn’t come second to finches. I couldn’t possibly bear being put right below a bird for comparison,” his words cause you to bristle, and you glare at him in return.
“I don’t think anybody could win against finches when it comes to Qiqi,” you reply with a soft sigh, crossing your arms as you turn away from them, walking away. Feeling your heart pulse in your chest, you wander off, listening to them in silence as they perk up behind you, speaking amongst one another.
You allow your mind to drift, remaining silent as you ponder over the recent events of today. Scaramouche notices your absence of thought, allowing you to walk just a little ways away from him as the sunlight illuminates your body in an ethereal glow, the autumnal breeze blowing through the strands of your hair when it passes you. Scaramouche thinks that you looked rather lonely, despite being just a few paces away from him– it was a familiar sight to him, though one he hadn’t seen in a few years. The image of your back, walking just a little ways away from him all midst you drowned in your thoughts, surrounding yourself with a sense of solitude that he understands a little too well now.
At some point, he furthers his distance away from you, feeling his own mind leave him. “Qiqi,” he finds himself starting, his expression turning unreadable as his lips pull taut into a thin line, “do you think I can trust you with a really big, important secret?”
“Hm,” Qiqi mulls over his words for a moment, eying his sudden change in expression before nodding, “I can listen, but I can’t say I’ll remember,” she offers with a finality, her head tilting closer towards him as she turns her eyes towards your distant figure.
“Big Sister is standing a bit far from us, do you notice that?” Scaramouche inquires, and when Qiqi nods, he continues, “That’s probably my fault. ” His words hang in the cold winds for a moment, and Qiqi absorbs his expression when she readjusts her position in his arms, pressing a pale, small hand to her hat to ensure that her talisman hadn’t been flying off to nowhere.
“You see, Qiqi,” Scaramouche adds on, his voice strange when it leaves his throat as his eyes remain focused on your back, “Big Brother wasn’t always so kind. Especially to her, I think if anything, I had hurt her the most, and seeing her like this, even if she promised to turn a new leaf over with me,” he smiles, though it looks rather empty to Qiqi’s eyes, “I can tell that she’s still hurting a little inside. However, Qiqi...” There’s a flicker of something intangible in Scaramouche’s eyes, one that Qiqi finds herself interested in.
“She still decided to give me a chance, even after everything I’ve done,” he lets out a soft scoff, “she's just a fool in the end, to let a man like me back into her life. She isn't sane.” When he laughs, it’s without humor, almost as though a part of him resented you for allowing him back in. “She burns so brightly, even in her dimmest moments. It hurt my eyes so much then, to see a flame I wanted so badly to be extinguished to keep burning,” Scaramouche narrows his eyes onto your form, lit by the sunlight as you descended down a pair of stairs, “but now… It’s different,” he admits with a small voice, “I find beauty in her undying flame. She is, at her very core, eternal in that sense. ”
Qiqi doesn’t say anything. She understands that whatever Scaramouche had been speaking about had been something of extreme importance related to the both of them, and she understands from the look on his face that he is in his own inner turmoil.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve completely lost to her, and for that, I adore her,” his voice is lost to the winds when it passes, blowing strands of dark hair astray across his features, and in his violet irises, there is only a reflection of you as you turn around, noticing that the footsteps behind you had come to a stop. “My conviction is unwavering in my decisions to make amends towards her and I suppose… Everyone I’ve wronged. I will keep trying, even though I know I will never be forgiven. Because Ei would be gravely disappointed in me. Because I am enough for my butterfly, and because she accepts me despite everything,” he watches as you wave over at him and Qiqi, a look of confusion on your face as you look up at them at the end of the stairway.
Qiqi watches as the corners of his lips quirk upward into a small smile, his bright irises flickering towards her as he pressed her small body a little closer to his own, as though to feign a hug, “In truth, I don’t really care about making amends to anybody else other than her and her family. Everyone deserved their hell, and I suppose I deserve mine. None of my efforts will be useless, I’ll make sure of it. I have no need for anything else in this world, and if I can’t keep the gnosis to myself, then so be it. However, should there be a day where she decides to change her mind, and burn the world altogether," Scaramouche snickers, "I suppose that would be rather exciting in itself...” Scaramouche whispers more to himself, keeping his voice low so that Qiqi would have to strain her ears to hear him. His smile widens at the sight of Qiqi’s curious expression. It looks like she didn't hear the scary part, he thinks to himself as he shuffles her on his arm, “Keep my secret safe, okay? ”
Qiqi eyes him quizzically, her eyes scanning his features as though coming to a realization with something. There’s a look of acceptance behind her eyes, and the moment you perk up from the bottom of the stairway, she turns her head.
“What are you guys whispering about?” You inquire with a slowness, hoping you weren’t ruining anything as you took a step forward.
Qiqi clenches her hand around Scaramouche’s clothing. “Qiqi ordered herself not to remember,” Qiqi replies, causing you to blink twice in response. Scaramouche pats her head in response, tossing her a small grateful smile when her eyes flicker back towards him. Qiqi’s eyes narrow, her head tilting towards him as she wraps her arms around his neck.
“I was telling her how scary you are,” Scaramouche responds to you, watching as your eyes grow wide, “she was so scared she wanted to forget about what I said altogether.”
“What!?” Your hands tremble as you turn to look at Qiqi, who looks rather blank as she stares down at you, “Qiqi, it’s as I thought. That man isn’t good at all,” you hiss, clenching your hands into fists as you stomp your way back up the stairs. You tear Qiqi out of his hands, an action which neither seem to complain about. Cradling Qiqi in your arms now, you glare at Scaramouche, who in reply, only smiles as though he were relaxed by the sight of your irritated expression.
In Scaramouche’s mind, seeing you annoyed like this was better seeing you walking off into the distance by yourself. At least then, you didn’t look so exhausted with yourself.
Arriving at a familiar vicinity by Liyue Harbor, when Scaramouche is distracted, his gaze off to the distance as though he were keeping an eye on something, you find yourself apologizing to Qiqi, feeling a weight in your body grow as you look at her innocent expression as your mouth falls open.
“Qiqi,” you start, keeping a serene look on your face as you gaze down at her tenderly, “I have something to apologize to you about.” Qiqi tilts her head in question, responding to your words with a sincere curiousness. You prod onwards, “Big Sister was thinking earlier… That I was a little envious of you,” you confess, “for being able to forget things so easily. I thought it would be nice to not remember such painful things like one’s past, however,” you pause, gauging her expression, “I see that it was wrong of me to envy you. You work so hard to want to remember things because naturally you are unable to… It’s unfair of me to be jealous of you,” you bring her closer, pulling Qiqi into a warm embrace that she accepts with absolute ease.
“I’m sorry, Qiqi,” you sigh, feeling your heart swelter with regret at your own thoughts, “I was being disrespectful. You are a strong girl, Qiqi. It’s a dishonor to envy you for such things when you put all your work into remembering things…”
Qiqi remains quiet for a little, mulling over your words as her magenta hued irises flicker over towards the sound of a laughing child not so far into the distance. Qiqi watches as the little girl jumps happily, holding onto her parent’s hands. “Forgetting is okay sometimes,” Qiqi confesses in agreement to your previous statement, “but there are important times like these where I want to remember,” Qiqi watches as the little girl from afar is lifted by her mother, into a warm embrace, and Qiqi further wraps her arms around you, feeling a strange warmth build in her chest at the sight of it, “I don’t want to forget them…”
Your expression falls as you tilt your head, pressing your hands firmly against Qiqi as you allow your eyes to fall shut. You nod solemnly, only pulling back when you feel Qiqi lean backwards, her small hands reaching to cup your cheeks.
You reopen your eyes, and when you lock gazes with her own, she pinches your cheeks, tugging your lips into a smile. “I forgive you, but next time… Qiqi will get more coconut milk,” Qiqi’s demand causes you to flinch back for a moment, “promise?”
“Promise,” you mutter, feeling a little unsure with yourself. “Who’s teaching you to be demanding lately? Surely not Doctor Baizhu…” You whisper under your breath when she finally lets go of your cheeks, and when you pull her back into the warmth of your chest, you notice that Scaramouche is off, bartering with a man at a vendor stall. Your smile falters slightly. Him, probably, you thought to yourself in slight defeat.
After Scaramouche allows Qiqi to return to Bubu Pharmacy with bags of herbs and some snacks in hand, the two of you retreat off to the comfort of your home. The walk is mostly quiet, though it is a comfortable silence that floods the air between the two of you. When you arrive home, Scaramouche lets out a soft sigh, feeling a little weary.
“Tired?” You softly begin, “Our day isn’t quite over yet. I was planning to take you out for dinner,” you watch as his eyes brighten ever so slightly, a small smile crawling onto his lips.
“Finally, ” Scaramouche snickers, “I deserve this for all my hard work. Let’s eat well, shall we?” You let out a soft sigh, sounding a little frustrated.
“I can’t congratulate you officially just yet, but,” you turn around just as you head down the hallway, hoping to change into more Liyuen styled clothes, “I suppose I can appreciate you a little bit. Good work, Kunikuzushi,” you offer him a small smile, resulting in his cheeks tinging with warmth, “you’ve progressed amazingly, though I suppose it’s to be expected,” you lightheartedly laugh at his strange expression before continuing, holding a hand into a fist before you, “you’ve worked hard in anything and everything, after all.”
“That’s right,” Scaramouche hums, pleased as he leans on the side of the counter, watching as you slowly disappear from his line of sight, “everything I have surmounted to now are all seeds from long ago, now blooming…” His voice lowers, his smile lessening, “Though, you are my biggest prize and regret of them all,” he whispers to himself, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. There’s a brief moment of silence that passes, though it quickly evaporates into nothing when your voice suddenly calls out from the other end of the hallway.
“Hurry up, you need to change too!”
Scaramouche shakes his head, letting out a short scoff as he rolls his eyes. “Annoying woman,” he mutters under his breath before ambling off down the hallway, “Yes, yes, I’m on the way!”
Scaramouche thinks to let you know about the group of Fatui he had noticed keeping an eye on the three of you from afar. Not wanting to ruin your better mood, he chooses to keep his mouth shut. If they dare meddle anymore than they should, however… Scaramouche had plans for them.
Dinner is a lot more regular than you had thought. Seated at a decent restaurant, the two of you comment about your day, and mostly speak about tiresome customers at work, or speak in adoration about Qiqi. You realize when the two of you communicate lately, it’s less harsh, and more just… Talking. Like the two of you were finally getting along properly, despite his occasional snide remarks regarding things he wasn’t particularly interested in.
Otherwise, he entertained your strange, vague thoughts when they came to be, no matter how silly your questions were to him. You understood from your interaction with him that no matter how redundant you sounded, he took the time to listen to you regardless.
You find out, unsurprisingly, that he is entirely careless of how many people he has killed– in the sense where if the death didn’t affect his consciousness directly, he simply paid no heed to it altogether. It was always a harsh contrast between you and him, your bouts of humanity in comparison to his immortal morality, and you supposed that perhaps it would always stay that way between the two of you. It was something you had to accept, since he was made and raised differently than yourself, although his carelessness towards human life did still irk you.
By the end of dinner, the two of you are walking home in the dark of the night, your gaits mimicking one another's, remaining side by side. It was pleasant, the atmosphere that surrounded you two. With you, he seemed just a little more vulnerable, a little less unguarded and more open to just relaxing.
When you nearly trip over a loose stone on the ground, he cusses, as though he were the one tripping instead. “Liyue is rich with mora, yet these pavements are untouched. Horrid.” Scaramouche sighs before resuming a cool façade, standing next to you with his eyes narrowed down onto your form. He outstretches a hand towards you, his gaze hard and expectant as you regain your composure, “Well? What are you waiting for?” He impatiently adds on, “I’ll be your guide, since these pavements are made horribly.”
You hold back a laugh, unable to help yourself as you reach a hand out towards him, feeling your face grow warm when you place your hand in his own, “Are you trying to look cool? That’s a terrible excuse to have me hold your hand, Balladeer,” you comment jokingly. You purse your lips when the edges of his lips curl upwards into a small, knowing smile, his eyes narrowing at your expression.
Scaramouche clicks his tongue, intertwining your fingers together before you can pull away from him, effectively tugging you closer, “Whatever. You fall for it every time,” he snickers as your shoulders tense at his words, “ever so naïve, my darling. You never learn do you? But that’s okay,” he hums, brushing his thumb over your hand as the two of you continue your walk back home, “in fact, I should see to it that you never learn.”
You avert your eyes, feeling your head swim as the implications of his words fall into your mind. “You can always just hold my hand,” you huff under your breath, “I think we’ve been past pleasantries and tricks for a long time now…”
A soft sigh leaves his lips at your words, “Don’t be so boring, darling,” he retorts in a chide tone, “besides,” your eyes widen when you feel his gaze burn onto your expression, causing you to look off to the side as though you were interested in something else entirely, “getting you embarrassed is a large part of my joy. See?” He tugs your wrist, pulling you closer to him as the two of you come to a stop on the sidewalk, a small noise leaving your throat at the sudden harshness of his tug. “Can’t even look me in the eye now, can you?” His words earn a scornful gaze from you, though it quickly softens and melts into nothing at the sight of his handsome smirk.
Choosing to shut your eyes, you lean onto his shoulder, pursing your lips tightly as you will away the blooming warmth in your chest, “Let’s hurry up and go home,” you quietly begin, “it’s getting too cold now…”
Scaramouche’s chuckle echoes throughout the night air, resounding throughout the open space surrounding the two of you. He simply hums in response, allowing you to cling onto him as the two of you continue your stroll back home.
Scaramouche is a little surprised to find that you’re not in bed after his bath. Instead, he finds you admiring the night sky, your eyes narrowed from sleepiness as you lean on the side of the doorframe, sitting down.
He taps your shoulder, catching your attention briefly, though when you notice it’s just him, you focus your attention back onto the scenery before you. “Let’s go to bed now,” his voice is soothing to your ears, sounding tender amidst the freezing night air, “we’re back to work tomorrow bright and early.”
You hum in response, your voice low and distant as you lift yourself up, reaching for the hand he so kindly offers to you. When you meet his gaze, you find yourself asking in a rather tired tone, “Do you think I can watch you perform a sword dance for me again? Please,” you add on, watching as a flicker of something akin to adoration flourishes in his eyes for just a second before disappearing completely, masked by a cool façade.
Pulling you upwards, Scaramouche shuts his eyes for a moment, mulling over your words as he speaks, “Did you enjoy it that much?”
“Truthfully speaking, it was mesmerizing watching you,” you comment without hesitation, your honesty burning into Scaramouche’s mind as he pulls you just a little closer to him, “you move with the fluidity of water. I only wish I had stayed a little longer to see the whole dance,” your voice becomes smaller near the end, feeling a little embarrassed now that his eyes had reopened once more, his gaze firm on your features.
When he doesn’t reply, you find the embarrassment in your stomach swirl, “If it’s something you’d rather not do again then I don’t mind–”
“That’s fine with me,” he quickly retorts, sounding a little amused by your sudden change in reaction, “also, last time I heard, you wanted to take full advantage of me and my abilities. I suggest you be a little more demanding,” leading you to the bed now, he only allows his hand to part from your own so he could shift underneath the covers, shuffling around to allow space for you.
You stare at his pale features blankly before letting out a soft sigh, pulling the covers over your body as you weakly glare at him, “I’m only trying to be nicer,” you huff, “but fine… Perform for me again, your amazing sword dance… I want to see it properly, without hiding behind a wooden door,” unable to hold your sleepiness back anymore, your eyes flutter shut, feeling his hand press on your own at your words.
Scaramouche remains quiet, his lips pulling into a thin line at the sight of your peaceful expression, before looking off at the roof above him, his cold hand warming in the hold of your own hand. After some time, he softly hums a tune, shutting his eyes as he visualizes his memories, playing them in the back of his mind despite how hollow those memories seemed.
Scaramouche traced his motions, dancing with a newly forged sword in his hands while a shamisen played in the background, followed by the constant rhythm. He mimicked fighting in tune with another, displaying the art of war in dance– and suddenly, the sounds of the shamisen distort altogether, his mood dampening as he remembers a familiar bloodstained scene.
A meaningless bloodbath, which had only resulted in the loss of lives of those who he had found virtue in. And of course, Scaramouche would never dare take such an insult standing still. The outcome of the bloodbath solidified and composed all sorts of destruction into the future– the disappearance and ruin of the Raiden Gokaden.
Scaramouche snickers mid hum, listening to you let out a soft moan as you readjusted yourself in bed, remaining fast asleep. Walking down memory lane, he had all sorts of ill-founded amusement in all the things he did– in which he was sure if he told you of such things, you would despise him all the more. It was something he preferred to keep privy, his past and the several journeys he had to undertake.
Secrets, secrets– and most things would remain that way. He would make sure of it. It brought him some pain, knowing that to dance like that yet again, a part of him would be forced to relive a memory of something he wished to keep hidden, deep under the dirt of his mind. But of course, as of late, he found himself having a hard time saying ‘no’ to you, especially when you asked so kindly , more often than not, giving him a sweet expression to couple your words. This occasion was just one of the countless moments he would give in to you, but one in a few he would do so with reluctance.
Letting out a final soft hum before drifting off to slumber, Scaramouche thinks to himself that perhaps he’s been spoiling you a little too much.