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Liyue is much different compared to Inazuma.
The sounds of the wind speak to him in a kind and gentle manner, almost as if they were welcoming him to reside in their land, while Inazuma’s winds are harsh, unwelcoming, and willing to cut through his skin like a sharpened blade. Truthfully, he doesn’t miss the winds of Inazuma. Not after embracing and learning about the winds of Liyue.
The people are different, too. He distances himself from the people of Liyue and finds himself avoiding conversation, but he watches. From afar, he watches as they go on with their lives in an almost free manner. Beidou had warned him not to pry into the lives of others, which was fairly easy considering where he had originated from, and so he doesn’t pry. He watches from afar while the wind speaks to him all he needs to know. Some might find him strange, but he in return finds them strange as well. He knew that, in truth, he was the strange one to Liyue. A runaway from Inazuma, a lost samurai that had only one purpose: to rekindle the flame of a vision who had lost its bearer. So far, he’s been unsuccessful.
When Beidou was preparing for the expedition to Inazuma, the very place he had run from, to guide Aether into the depths of the storm, he would wander the lands of Liyue by himself. His purpose was his motivator, he would do anything to see the life spark into the vision that refused to pulse with power. It was a sight that he craved for.
Although Mt. Hulao was a location he had visited several times since he first arrived in Liyue, he felt the same way each time he laid eyes on the scenery around him. It could be described as childish wonder, but he felt calm and at peace. Mt. Hulao was a place of serenity and the winds spoke to him the tales of a thousand years. He listened patiently, lifting his left hand to feel the breeze slip through his pale fingers. It was calming, something that Inazuma seemed to lack. The winds were violent and screamed into his ears like a banshee, the storm that was placed upon the lands being too much for him to bear. With the blessing of his Anemo vision during a crucial time, Kaedehara Kazuha knew that Inazuma no longer welcomed him. Not that it seemed to ever welcome his presence.
He remembers everything, reliving the nightmare in his dreams at night. Tossing and turning before giving up on sleep altogether, Kazuha remembers. He remembers and he wished he wouldn’t. The adrenaline, fear, and pain were all still vivid in his mind as he ran from a gruesome scene, the flickering glow of a dying vision fading in his hand. Despite the flames that burned his hand from holding onto the vision tightly, he never let go. He couldn’t let go. Not when it meant so much to him.
The words, “Hand over your vision” still rang in his ears at the most inappropriate of times. Kazuha would never give up his vision, even if it meant cutting down the people who came for him. The power of Anemo coursing through his veins, the remembrance of the winds surrounding his enemies and cutting them down like flies. It wasn’t how Kazuha wanted to leave Inazuma, as he was hoping to outrun his pursuers, but he did what he must.
But Liyue… it was different. Visions were seen as blessings and wearing one was almost like a badge of honor to say that the Gods have chosen you. Kazuha never viewed his as a blessing but being in Liyue made him wonder if it was. He remembered overhearing a child speak of wanting a Geo vision when he grew older, while in Inazuma, children never spoke of such things publicly. Not with the vision hunt ongoing and vision bearers either giving their badges up or fleeing. Visions were not a blessing from the Gods in Inazuma, they were a curse.
Despite his memories of the harsh Inazuma winds, Kazuha rather enjoys the way Liyue’s breeze feels against his skin, the way his hair flows in the direction of the wind while he closes his eyes and lets the feeling of peace engulf his entire being. He embraces Liyue’s winds and the way the sunset paints the area surrounding it in a yellowish orange as it gives him a sense of security. Beidou has been kind enough to help him with his endeavor and he can see why many people in Liyue respect her and the clan she captains. Though, he admits, he is curious about the woman named Ningguang as she seems less than pleased with Beidou at times. Beidou laughs it off and tells him it’s nothing and that’s she’s always been a bit of a stick in the mud.
Kazuha’s thoughts come to a halt when as he feels a disturbance in the wind. It could be his imagination and paranoia, of course, as he had come from the harsh land of Inazuma where they had chased him down for hours for his vision, but he also knew never to let his guard down. Slowly moving his hand down to his blade to unsheathe it, Kazuha makes swift movement to stand straight up and face the intruder the winds spoke of. His grip is firm on his weapon as he refuses to show weakness to a potential threat.
Not failing his instincts and listening to the winds, a man stood several feet away and his heart felt peril at the sight of him. His clothing were easily identified as ones from Inazuma, they bore some similarity to his own, and spoke of someone from nobility or someone with an expensive amount of mora. His clothing consisted of black shorts, similar to his own but different in color, and black sandals with a large hat adorned on his head. Kazuha took note of the details, noticing the ornamental accessories that hang from read threads that attach to the back of his hat. Despite the man being further away from him, the winds show that he has a translucent black veil which separates the accessories. Kazuha’s almost impressed the hat hasn’t been knocked from his head yet.
Kazuha could feel the scowl on the man’s face from his side and he knew that he could only be here for one thing: his vision. There’s no other reason someone that well-dressed from Inazuma would be here. In Liyue, it is not a crime to obtain a vision. In Inazuma, it quite frankly is. He was a runaway from Inazuma, a ronin, and a wanted man because of the mess he had gotten himself into. He could never go back.
Neither of them spoke, not for what felt like dreadful hours, until the other man had an amused smirk plastered on his face. “I’m not sure if you think you’re intimidating with that sword of yours, but you’re really not.” The voice that comes from the unknown figure isn’t exactly what he imagined in his head, but he didn’t necessarily hate the sound. There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone and Kazuha wondered if he even wanted to be here with him or even in Liyue.
Kazuha kept his stance with his blade never leaving his side, staying as silent as a leaf drifting in the wind.
“Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” The man took a step forward and Kazuha prepared himself to strike. “If it’s a fight you want… I guess I can humor you for a bit.”
Fast like lightning, agile and quick. That was how Kazuha would describe him and his movements. He didn’t see a vision dangling from the man’s clothing, but he could tell that he was a vision user. A select few under the command of Raiden Shogun were allowed to keep their visions, as long as they slaved away for her. Kazuha would never stoop so low, not after having to see what divine punishment looked like. But no matter the speed or agility of Electro, the winds of Anemo were faster and Kazuha easily moved himself out of the way.
Without hesitation, he lunges at his attacker, the winds that were once calm and soothing now more violent as they lift him into the air. Kazuha surrounds himself with the winds before forcefully plunging himself towards the ground, the impact enough to knock the attacker backwards. “Hah, impressive.” Kazuha hears his taunting voice in the distance and glances up, noticing the hat that he wore was now discarded in the distance. His hair an indigo color that covered his ears, as well as indigo eyes that were staring at him with intensity and amusement. Kazuha didn’t miss the bold red eyeliner that adorned his eyes, and, despite everything, he thinks it’s fitting for his attacker. “Hey buddy, I think you forgot something.”
Kazuha’s face shows a hint of confusion before he notices the crackling sound of Electro sneaking up behind him, he clears his head of his intrusive thoughts and quickly rolls himself out of the way, barely missing the spark that explodes behind him. His attacker seems almost amused judging by the look in his eyes and Kazuha feels like he’s being toyed with. Maybe he is.
He understood exactly what his attacker was. A catalyst. They have no need for a polearm, sword, or claymore, but relied purely on the element they received to send forth powerful strikes at consistent rates. He has heard about these types before from Beidou and from little showing in Inazuma, they need no kind of weapon and rely on their own reflexes, yet he’s never had an encounter with one before this. Beidou mentioned Ningguang being a Geo catalyst, but he has yet to meet her face-to-face.
Despite that, it doesn’t stop Kazuha from lunging forward once more, the determination to keep his vision close to him making him feel more motivated than he had previously been. But even if the winds are strong, Kazuha still feels the spark that knocks his weapon right out of his hands. He understood that his attacker was seemingly holding back, but he admits that he may have underestimated his opponent.
Before Kazuha can regain his composure and retrieve his fallen sword, his back hits the ground in a way that causes a slight sting and he’s face-to-face with his attacker, whose body pinned his own to the ground. Kazuha tries to ask the winds for assistance in removing the weight above his own body, but it falls deaf of silent ears. He couldn’t lose his vision, not after he had fought tooth and nail to leave Inazuma to find—
“Hey stupid, knock it off. I can hear your goddamn head from here and it’s annoying,” Kazuha’s panicked thoughts are broken by the harsh, bark but no bite, tone from the male currently hovering above him. “So, you done throwing a hissy fit?”
Kazuha feels almost insulted. “I was not throwing a hissy fit; the winds spoke of an intruder and lead me to you.”
That rips a laugh from the unknown male. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, right?” When Kazuha shows no sign of saying anything similar to a joke, his face becomes blank. “You’re not kidding.”
“No.”
Hearing a loud, exasperated, sigh from above him, the weight that held his body down onto the ground lifts and a wave of confusion hits him as the man reaches out a hand. When Kazuha doesn’t take it, he furrows his eyebrows. “Just take my damn hand.”
He’s hesitant but cannot stop his unbandaged hand from reaching out to grip the extended hand offered to him, allowing himself to be lifted up from the ground in a swift motion. Despite the other looking small and frail, Kazuha knew that he was anything but. He carefully dusts himself off, glancing over to his weapon that lay pathetically on the ground. “If I may ask,” Kazuha starts, forcing himself to look away from his only means of protection. “Who are you and why are you here? You’re not from Liyue.”
An eyebrow raises at his questions before a laugh follows. “And you want me to believe that you’re a Liyue local yourself when you look like that? Don’t ask stupid questions.” He replies before moving to pick up Kazuha’s discarded sword, taking a careful look at it before letting out a sound similar to a hmph. “The name’s Scaramouche. And you are?” He replies before handing his weapon back to him.
“…Kazuha,” he replies, unsure if he can trust the male standing in front of him. He carefully takes his weapon, sheathing it once again before frowning. “You’re from Inazuma,” he starts before looking off to the side, wanting to avoid eye contact. “Are you not here for my vision?”
Scaramouche is staring at him, he can feel his gaze despite not looking back at him, and he misses the dumbfounded look on his face. It only takes a few seconds before Scaramouche is laughing, presumably at him, before speaking. “Why the fuck would I want your vision? If you didn’t notice, I have my own.” The amusement in his voice is enough to make Kazuha’s frown deepen. “The hell, did you really believe I came all the way from Inazuma to hunt you down and steal your vision?”
Hearing those words leave Scaramouche’s mouth, he realizes how silly he probably sounded and looked. “Perhaps,” he mutters in a way that sounds unsure and Kazuha focuses on the looking at the sun slowly setting, leaving the lands engulfed in an orange, almost yellow but not quite, hue that reflected nicely on the scenery. If Kazuha had the ability of painting, he would paint this picture to keep the memories. He almost forgot he was in the presence of someone else until he hears the other man, Scaramouche, let out an annoyed sigh. “Did you run from Inazuma?” Kazuha was tired, too tired to be poetic as usual, but he refused to show any signs of being worn down in front of a potential threat.
“Did you?” Scaramouche shoots back at him and he pauses for a few seconds before answering.
“Yes.”
They fall into a silence, but Kazuha cannot help but speak his mind. “The winds are at peace here; they fill one with tranquility and ease. It’s quite different from the harsh winds of Inazuma, don’t you think?” Kazuha wasn’t one to make conversation, in fact he’d say that he was inadequate at socializing, but he was the one that had technically started a fight. He admitted inwardly that he felt bad for jumping to conclusions.
Scaramouche is staring at him as if he was an oddity. “What a weird way to say that Inazuma’s a shitty place to be.” His voice held no sarcasm nor a mocking tone, it was different from how Scaramouche had spoken to him before.
“You’re quite blunt in the way you word things, aren’t you?” Kazuha finally turns his head to look at Scaramouche, to really inspect his features without the worry of being attacked. Scaramouche’s eyes meet his and he looks slightly bored.
“Sure, if that’s how you take it.”
Kazuha’s eyes feel glued to Scaramouche, but Scaramouche found himself staring straight ahead towards the setting sun and the mountains in the distance. His eyes first focus on his facial features, and he notes that Scaramouche is definitely a younger man, he guesses around his own age. His eyes are dull, they don’t spark of Electro like his fingertips do in battle, yet they are a color that Kazuha has yet to see on another person. He’s seen people with radiant blue eyes that resemble the sea, but never eyes like Scaramouche’s. The color of his indigo eyes staring out in the distance was a wonderous sight, but Kazuha would rather not say that out loud. He lies to himself, saying that Scaramouche wasn’t attractive, but the winds that blow harshly against his skin are telling him otherwise.
“Why—”
“What—”
Scaramouche and Kazuha stare at each other before Kazuha politely smiles at him, “You can go first. My apologies.”
“Tsk, I was going to ask why you’re in Liyue.” Scaramouche says, his arms grumpily folding against his chest while he avoids eye contact with Kazuha. “Not that I really care, but not many people from Inazuma make it this far.”
“I was going to ask you the same.” Kazuha replies, watching Scaramouche’s movements closely. Their eyes meet once more, and Scaramouche lets out a laugh. A genuine one. Kazuha likes the sound almost as much as he enjoys the sounds of the wind. “I’m here for many reasons, I suppose one being that I refused to give up my vision.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
Kazuha finds himself frowning again before looking away, almost in shame. “I apologize for attacking you the way I did, I genuinely thought you might be here for my vision. The hatred and anger towards vision bearers in Inazuma seems to know no bounds.”
Scaramouche allows his arms to fall to his sides, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not wrong, but I know you’re not as dense as I originally thought. You knew I had a vision myself, no?”
“I did.”
“Thought so.” Scaramouche finds himself moving closer to the edge of the cliff. He almost forgot where he was and why he came here in the first place after getting caught up in child’s play with Kazuha. He lowers himself to sit on the ground, feet dangling off the edge while he stares up at the darkening sky. “I’m here on business, if you can even call it that.”
Kazuha isn’t sure if that’s an invitation, but he finds himself sitting down next to Scaramouche anyways. Scaramouche doesn’t push him away immediately, so he reads it as a good sign. “Business?”
“Yeah,” his voice sounds tired, maybe slightly irritated. “Fatui business. I’m a Fatui harbinger. The sixth one of eleven to be more precise. I have little connection to Inazuma anymore. If anything, I’m a vagrant from Inazuma.”
Fatui.
Kazuha has heard that name mentioned before from Aether, the mysterious traveler who could manipulate the elements without owning a vision. He remembers a name being mentioned by his floating companion when they were signing up for Beidou’s competition. He wasn’t fully knowledgeable on the Fatui, but maybe he could learn. “By chance, do you know someone by the name of… Childe?”
An amused snort escapes Scaramouche’s lips. “Childe? Yeah, I know that stupid fuck. He’s the eleventh harbinger who’s still stationed here in Liyue. Obnoxious, childish, cocky. I’d beat the shit out of him if I could.”
“Oh? You couldn’t?” Kazuha replies in an almost teasing tone, and he smiles fondly at Scaramouche, who looks at him with a disgruntled scowl.
“Are you making fun of me, maple boy? ‘Cause looking back, you’re the one who ended up on the floor with me on top of them.” Scaramouche says sarcastically and Kazuha’s not sure if his face heats up because of the nickname or the memory of being pinned down in a lost fight to a certain catalyst Fatui harbinger, but the latter seems more accurate. “Looks like your so-called winds can’t even save you from that one.”
“I do not rely on the winds every moment I walk this earth, that would be burdensome to not only me, but the winds as well.” Kazuha admittedly loved the wind, the way it drifted leaves amongst its current made for beautiful scenes of tranquility and made him feel calm, at home. But, oddly enough, even without the wind blowing through his hair, he still feels at peace in the moment he was sharing with Scaramouche.
In a strange way, Scaramouche felt like a part of home. Perhaps it was because both of them shared a home, Inazuma, and they both strayed from said home or because they both owned visions, though of different elements. He couldn’t put a pin in it, but he didn’t detest the way he was feeling at the moment.
“Scaramouche,” Kazuha’s fairly sure that this was the first time he says his name properly, but he doesn’t dislike the way it rolls off his tongue. He quite likes it, actually. “Do you ever miss Inazuma?” He asks purely out of curiosity, hand reaching out to carefully capture a yellow-colored leaf that had been drifting in the wind from a nearby tree close enough for him to grab without falling off the cliffside.
Kazuha’s aware that Scaramouche is watching him. He inspects the leaf once over, reaching his hand over to place the leaf into Scaramouche’s palm before gently grabbing Scaramouche’s other hand to trap the leaf between his palms. “I won’t ask you to answer, but regardless of which, just remember this: even if you miss home, or whatever it may be that you feel a longing for, the wind is always there to listen.”
“Is that so,” Scaramouche’s almost gentle tone makes Kazuha’s lips turn into a smile, and he places his bandaged hand over Scaramouche’s. The gesture surprises Scaramouche and Kazuha, somehow, feels as if they had entered an unspoken contract together—a custom he learned about from listening to the stories spoken by the people of Liyue. Kazuha wasn’t exactly sure the kind of contract, but he could feel it was there.
Scaramouche was silent for at least five minutes after that, his gaze never leaving the leaf still caught between his palms. Kazuha had already moved his own hand back to his lap, humming a tune he had learned from an odd-looking man who called himself, “the best bard in Mondstadt,” softly. He wasn’t sure why someone from Mondstadt would make their way all the way to Liyue without a reason, but it made Kazuha want to visit at least once, perhaps a way to rekindle the unlit vision is hidden there if he doesn’t find his answer here in Liyue.
“You should tell your wish to the leaf and set it free,” Kazuha breaks the silence after a few more moments, earning a look from the Fatui harbinger sitting next to him. “The wind listens and…” he stops himself from speaking the last part too loudly before shaking his head lightly.
“And what?”
Kazuha allows himself to lower his guard completely, leaning over so that his head rests against Scaramouche’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder. “The wind listens and so do I.”
Scaramouche feels gross almost, allowing himself to indulge in the nonsense Kazuha spoke about without as much as even an argument. He knew that if Childe or Signora or any of the other harbingers ever heard about this, he would never hear the end of it, and it would be absolutely humiliating for him. Oddly enough though, he doesn’t shove him away or cause a verbal fight like he normally would. He simply looks at the leaf in his hand that Kazuha had placed, closed his eyes for a few moments before allowing the leaf to drift out of his hand and into the distance.
“I don’t understand you.”
“Yet,” Kazuha moves his head off Scaramouche’s shoulder, a look of fondness in his eyes as he meets Scaramouche’s unamused gaze. “You indulged in my ramblings anyways, no?”
“Guess so,” Scaramouche replies, avoiding the gaze from Kazuha. He didn’t like to be looked at in a fond manner, he only wanted people to look at him as if he were dangerous. A force to be reckoned with. But Kazuha’s gaze is fond and his touch gently, something he as a Fatui was not used to receiving. “You are aware that I’m a Fatui harbinger? So why are you acting this way towards me? I’m not a nice guy.”
“I have no reason to see you as my enemy. If you wanted to cause me harm, you would have done it when I was defenseless and pinned to the ground, yet you never put a single scratch on me. You held back in our battle as if you were merely toying with me, seemingly knowing that you wouldn’t harm me. Fatui or not, I have determined you’re not a bad person nor a threat to me.”
Scaramouche has had many moments in his life where he felt stunned, but this takes the cake. The people of Liyue were already highly suspicious of the Fatui ever since the murder of Rex Lapis and Mondstadt were not pleased about their presence with the previous tensions due to Stormterror. “Either you’re really fucking stupid or too kind for your own good.”
“Neither,” Kazuha simply replies, his eyes closing as the cooling breeze of Mt. Hulao’s winds gently caress his skin. “I don’t willingly do this with every person I meet here in Liyue, but I cannot explain why I feel at ease here in this moment. It could be the way the sun falls and engulfs the land is darkness as the moon rises, the gentle kiss from the wind, or perhaps it’s you, Fatui harbinger.” The last line comes out more playful, but Scaramouche can only snort.
“Yeah, you’re weird as fuck.” Scaramouche’s reply doesn’t come out as harsh, but not overly playful either. “Guess that’s what makes you interesting,” he mutters underneath his breath, but Kazuha hears him anyways.
Neither of them keep track of the time as it passes, but it doesn’t seem to take long until the world is painted by the various hues of black and blue, the moon coming out to play while the sun goes to rest. The chill of the winds doesn’t bother Kazuha, but it seems Scaramouche doesn’t share the same feeling. “Have I kept you here too long?”
“Probably.” Scaramouche stretches his arms out behind his head, sighing a bit. “Doesn’t matter anyways, I wasn’t out here for anything important, nor do I care if I’m late for meeting the new Fatui recruits tomorrow. Childe can do it. He knows Liyue better and is more likeable than me anyways.”
Kazuha tilts his head. “I’m sure you are likable in your own way.”
“Try to say that to the other Fatui harbingers and watch as they laugh at you,” Scaramouche’s tone of voice sounds almost cold, colder than the chilling wind that is embracing the two of them. “I’m not well-liked, many say I have a disagreeable personality or that I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut. Both are true. Even the other Fatui harbingers are not fond of my presence.”
“Does it bother you?” Kazuha remembers Beidou’s words, don’t pry into other’s lives, but Scaramouche was a mystery he’d like to solve by himself. He wouldn’t push his luck, of course, but he’d take a chance.
“Nah, I could care less. Let them dislike me,” the reply comes instantly and Kazuha can tell that Scaramouche really didn’t care if his colleagues hated him or not. “Not my fault the Fatui are stupid and deaf and can’t figure shit out for themselves. Being sent here was just a waste of my time,” Scaramouche was irritated, Kazuha could tell, and he finds himself staring at the Fatui harbinger with interest.
Kazuha couldn’t help but notice how the moon’s gentle glow shines against Scaramouche’s pale skin, more so than his own, and he resists the urge to feather his fingers against his cheekbone. “Well, I apologize for keeping you here with me so long. If you must head back, I’d like to at least wish you a farewell.”
“Instead of you apologizing all the damn time and talking in weird poetics, maybe you’d have noticed that I wanted to stay here with your stupid ass.” Scaramouche is as blunt as ever, but Kazuha can appreciate that to an extent. Not everyone is as blunt, especially in Inazuma. “Stop smiling like that, it’s disgustingly pretty when you do that.”
Kazuha lets out a genuine laugh. “My apologies.”
“Hey, what did I just say?!” Scaramouche replies before moving to pin Kazuha down onto the cold ground once more, almost as if reenacting his earlier loss in their slightly flawed battle. “Enough of that.”
A noise of surprise escapes Kazuha’s lips and he finds himself looking up at Scaramouche, who is glaring down at him. He can’t help but smile as he reaches up to caress the cold cheek of Scaramouche, who freezes at the gentle touch. “You’re not very good with this kind of thing, Scaramouche?” He asks in a genuine manner, not wanting to poke fun at the man who currently has him in a hold.
“Tsk. Shut up.”
“Would you really like me to do that?” Kazuha musters, the playfulness in his voice betraying his earlier thought. “Because something tells me that you wouldn’t.”
Scaramouche doesn’t have an overly strong grip on him, not by any means, but the way Kazuha’s hair falls away from his face with the faint glow of the moonlight makes Scaramouche want to commit a war crime. Boys from Inazuma should not be this pretty, but Kazuha was quite real and very visibly underneath him, staring up at him as if he wasn’t part of the dreaded Fatui. “You’re annoying.”
Kazuha only smiles, looking past Scaramouche’s head to gaze up at the sky. Scaramouche huffs before getting off Kazuha, mostly to avoid his own embarrassment, and Kazuha’s gaze falls back on him shortly after. “Scaramouche.”
“What.”
“Do you know how to rekindle the flame of a vision whose bearer has passed?” Kazuha knew that he most likely wouldn’t know the answer to such a question, but even as he sits up from laying on the ground for the second time that day to stare at the moon, he holds onto a small part of hope that Scaramouche might know. And while the sun was beautiful, yet blinding, the moon was radiant and willing to be stared at.
“Why would you even…” Scaramouche’s voice trails off into silence as he watches Kazuha take an item out of a hidden place, he couldn’t see where, but assumed Kazuha had a secret pocket or pouch that he hadn’t noticed before. In his hands rested a vision, one clearly from Inazuma, with the light gone from its core. Kazuha held the dead vision as if it was the most precious item he had ever owned. “What the hell?”
Scaramouche had never seen a vision without a light before. He’s heard stories of visions going dark after an owner has passed but hasn’t heard much else.
“You know,” Kazuha starts, his thumb brushing gently against the core of the vision where it once glowed with pride. “It was an Electro vision, quite like yours.” He’s smiling, but Scaramouche can tell it’s pained as if he were forcing himself to smile. “This vision once belonged to someone I was very close to, a friend, and he was proud of being someone with a vision. When the vision hunt began, he decided to challenge the Raiden Shogun, confident of his abilities, but… he failed. In the end, he received divine punishment. I had arrived a few seconds too late.”
Scaramouche doesn’t say anything. So, he continues.
“I couldn’t let his passion die so easily, so I took the dying vision and ran. I ran away with it as fast as I could as I watched the Electro spark fade from it.” Kazuha tilts his head to the side before allowing his bandaged hand to stretch out in front of him, and he stares at it with wonder. “A lot of people tend to let their eyes wander toward my bandaged hand, but they never ask questions. But I consider it a reminder of why I’m here and what I had to sacrifice to leave Inazuma.” There’s a pause and then a small laugh. “Who knew dying visions could actually burn? It wasn’t something I had considered carefully when I grabbed the vision and fled.”
Scaramouche stared at Kazuha’s bandaged hand, speechless, before sighing for the umpteenth time. “I’m sorry that happened.” He’s not one to apologize for anything he does, no matter how cruel he can get—he doesn’t apologize, so the fact that he’s apologizing to Kazuha for Archon’s knows what, he’s quite disgusted with himself.
“Ah, you said no apologizing.” Kazuha says with a small smile, it’s not forced but Scaramouche can see the sadness behind it. “Here.” The vision is gently moved from Kazuha’s lap to Scaramouche’s and, in truth, he’s afraid to touch it with his tainted hands. He can’t rekindle the flame, he and Kazuha both know this, as he owns his own Electro vision already, but he can see how much it means to him.
Scaramouche decides to take advantage and gives it a small inspection, lifting it up to touch the surface before handing it back to Kazuha. He doesn’t watch as Kazuha puts it back where he’d gotten it from. Instead, without thinking, his hands move to his own vision. He carefully takes it from the spot on his clothing, carefully placing it on Kazuha’s lap like he had done previously. “I can’t rekindle anything on a dead vision as I have my own,” he starts, Kazuha’s gaze glued on his glowing vision, “but I doubt there’s harm in you looking at mine.”
Kazuha’s face is stoic as his finger grazes against the lit vision, the different hues of purple coming together while it pulses with energy, and he can only smile. “It’s lovely. The color of purple reminds me slightly of Inazuma and of royalty. Purple is neither cold nor is it warm, I’d describe it as calmer and more peaceful. You know, Violetgrass is a specialty of Liyue that I’ve come across a few times, I’ve been told it’s very beautiful after the rain.” He says before handing Scaramouche’s vision back to him.
While Scaramouche is reattaching his vision to his clothing, Kazuha begins talking again. “I believe the element of Electro suits you. Fierce, yet agile. Pretty to look at, but not very nice to be hit with I admit.”
Scaramouche’s gaze is immediately back on him and there’s a look of confusion on his face. “Pretty to look at?”
“Yes.”
“The fuck?”
Kazuha feels as if his face will begin to hurt if he doesn’t stop smiling soon, but he finds himself unable to wipe it off. “I was taking an attempt at being blunt. Did it work?”
Scaramouche scoffs. “I can’t with you.”
It doesn’t take much for either of them to fall into silence, neither finding the need to talk. Scaramouche wasn’t much of a talker and usually opened his mouth to criticize the Fatui subordinates that dared to go against his plans. The other Fatui harbingers avoided him on the regular, except for that brat Childe who found annoying him entertaining, and he usually isn’t stationed in the same areas as the others.
In truth, he wasn’t really in Liyue for Fatui business. He was in Liyue to investigate so-called mysterious meteorites and he had a feeling it was all bluff from the annoying first harbinger anyways. He was going to head back tomorrow to confront the senior harbinger, but he found himself wondering if he should stay a bit longer in the region. No one in the Fatui would miss his absence and he currently wasn’t needed on the front.
Scaramouche knew he was power oriented and disliked being beneath others, but Kazuha’s calming presence and stupid way with words makes him not want to act like a downright asshole. Especially not after he trusted him with something as precious as his deceased friend’s dead vision. In normal circumstances, he may have already snapped at Kazuha or would have killed him for his stunt earlier, but he didn’t feel like doing either of those things. He had to admit that he was curious to why someone from Inazuma would also be in Liyue. Scaramouche meant it when he said not many people make it this far when escaping the closed land of Inazuma.
“My ass is going to freeze if I stay here any longer, y’know.” Scaramouche ends up saying, not that he wants to part ways with Kazuha, but he wasn’t lying when he said he was fucking cold. It was night out, after all.
Kazuha chuckles. “Is that so? I’d apologize for keeping you so long, but we may have another fight on our hands if I do.”
“Glad you’re learning.” Scaramouche picks himself up off the ground and goes to retrieve his discarded hat that lay on the ground several feet away before putting it back in its rightful spot on his head. Kazuha is already on his feet when Scaramouche comes back to the spot they’d shared together all evening and he’s holding something in his hands. Scaramouche doesn’t know what it is, so he asks. “What is that?”
Kazuha steps forward and hands him an item shaped as a maple leaf. “It’s a maple leaf. Well… not a real one, of course, but it’s similar to the one I have right here on my own clothing. I don’t know when we will meet again, but I would like you to have it.”
Scaramouche allows Kazuha to place the gift gently in his hands like the many times before, admiring the maple leaf trinket in his hands. Glancing at Kazuha’s outfit, he sees a similar maple leaf hanging from his attire. “One more thing,” Kazuha says before ducking slightly underneath his hat to press his lips against his still cold cheek. “For you. I enjoyed the time we spent together. Remember what I said earlier… the wind always listens.” Scaramouche notices that he leaves out the last part, most likely to avoid the embarrassment, but he watches as Kazuha gives him one last smile.
Before Scaramouche can stop him or say anything, he’s out of sight. The only proof that Kazuha had ever been there in the first place was a maple leaf trinket and the slight tingling feeling of where Kazuha had affectionately pressed a kiss onto his cheek. “I’m never hearing the end of this…” he mutters before carefully and securely placing the maple leaf in his pouch. He really hadn’t meant to disappear for this long and he knew Childe wasn’t going to let this one go.
“I really shouldn’t have told Childe I was leaving for only an hour.”