Chapter Text
Kazuha impatiently taps his foot on the floor while slouching on the chair found across his lover’s, behind the desk filled with files and documents in between them. He glances at his partner who had been preoccupied with his work ever since he arrived at the office, and observes as he thoroughly reads through reports that his agents had delivered earlier in the morning. The samurai lets out a low sigh at his sight and turns his head to the wall clock instead, wondering when his waiting will end.
Being the sixth harbinger in the Fatui, The Balladeer is always busy with paperwork and investigations. It is a general idea of life as a fatui harbinger. Even then, Scaramouche used to try and find time to spend little dates with the only person he ever cared for in this treacherous world called Teyvat.
Starting a couple of years ago, the sixth harbinger would often try to speed through his tasks with ease in order to be able to eat homemade dinner with his favorite wandering ronin, then they would play songs together in their room. He would also spend thousands of mora to buy him souvenirs from various nations where he was stationed to, despite the reassurance from the maple leaf fanatic that he really doesn’t need to. Kazuha would also often visit his office and start a conversation in an attempt to calm the vagrant from his tiring job, to which would work because their hearts would flatter just by the sight of each other.
However, unlike before, there they are, sitting just a few meters apart in dreadful silence. Nothing but the sounds of rustling papers and the ticking of the clock can be heard.
Kazuha understands the heavy workload the Tsaritsa orders her harbingers to fulfill, he really does, and he would often try to keep himself busy by wandering around with the Crux as he patiently waits for the vagrant to come back to his arms. He knew that he would always come back no matter how long it would take, so he didn’t really mind at all. Just as long as the harbinger stays safe, is all.
Since around the beginning of the month, however, Kazuha can’t help but feel as if he is being deliberately ignored by his own partner.
Several days ago, the gentle individual saw him back in the hallways of the Zapolyarny Palace after his mission in Fontaine. Just seeing him made him feel fireworks in his chest. The samurai gave the Balladeer a huge bright smile and waved at him, waiting for him to walk closer to him so that they could have a quick chat (simple good mornings that would both instantly make their day). The other did not return the same, and instead only gave him an emotionless glance then rushed to a meeting room, as if they didn’t even know each other.
Kazuha’s heart dropped upon the reaction, or rather the lack thereof, but he breathed and told himself that perhaps he is just busier than usual, to which he completely understands. So he walked away from the palace in order to distract himself like always, believing that soon everything will go back to normal.
Days turned to weeks, and not a day goes by when Kazuha couldn’t stop thinking whether or not he did something wrong that made the harbinger want to distance himself from him.
For the first few days, the ronin kept trying to reassure himself that he was simply overthinking. However, as more mornings passed, he couldn’t help but reconsider. This has been going on for several weeks already, and day by day, Kazuha’s hope slowly diminishes and just awaits for when it will be official.
Kazuha couldn’t bear the isolating stillness of the room.
He stopped his foot from tapping the floor and gently stood up from his seat.
“I’m going to go out for a while, watch the trees and all,” he softly told the man. This never happened before. Kazuha never left the room, not when his own lover was inside. But there he is, glancing down at the other as he hoped for him to look up from his papers for once and at least bid a goodbye to him.
It never came.
Instead, the harbinger continues reading the documents as if there wasn’t anyone else in the room but himself. Not even a “mhm,” or even just a quick nod to show him that he heard his voice. At this point, Kazuha just awaits for any reaction from the balladeer, anything at all.
Nothing.
Kazuha could feel his chest drop heavy upon the absence of a reply. With a dim frown on his face, the samurai decided to just stroll to the door and quietly leave the room, not wanting to further hurt himself by waiting for something that will obviously never come, not anymore.
While roaming around the corridors of the palace with an obviously disheartened pout on his face, the ronin wonders to himself about where did it all go wrong. What made his lover feel barely anything towards him? Did he forget an important date? Messed up with his cooking? Or was he simply not enough for the divine creation?
He couldn’t help but internally break down at that thought, making shivers run through his skin.
If he did forget an important date, then he can just try his best to remember it next time. If he messed up with cooking his favorite dish, then perhaps he can study a bit more and improve his skill for him. But if it is because he cannot meet his standards as being born a mere human unlike him, then he wouldn’t know what to do about it, and can only hopelessly wish that things will work out anyway.
His chaotic thoughts distracted him from the path he is currently walking on, making the gentle samurai bump at the back of a rather tall individual. He held his head with a hand as he grunted, and slowly looked up to see a familiar ginger head quickly give him a glare.
Perhaps upon realizing that he is a friend of his, the man with ocean blue eyes eased his expression and gave the Inazumian a soft smile. He turned around to directly face the shorter man, and upon doing so, Kazuha noticed the wooden crate on the man’s hands.
“Heya, comrade! Watch your step, I’m currently carrying a rather heavy box of ruin guard parts to take to Dottore. Trust me, you do not want any of it to fall on your toes,” he let out a chuckle at his own statement, but the snowy haired man with a red streak on it only slowly nodded his head in response, his weak motions made the hydro wielder pout instead.
After that, Kazuha walked slightly past the ginger and was about to continue his sloppy stroll along the hallways of the palace, drowning himself in his own negative thoughts once more until he heard the voice of the harbinger call out for him.
“Kazuha, if you’re looking for Scaramouche, I believe he is in his office,” the youngest harbinger informed the ronin with a hint of worry in his tone. Perhaps he found it unusual to see the Crux member look so down in the dumps when he would always see him smiling about, especially when walking beside the indigo haired harbinger.
Upon being called out, Kauzha stopped his tracks and turned his head to look at the ginger once more. “Ah, yeah, I know. I just came from there.”
“Is that so? So what’s with the gloomy frown on your face?” the young harbinger raised an eyebrow at the man, observing him as he gaped his mouth at the question, hesitating to let out an answer.
“Ajax I- uh…” Kazuha had a lot of rushing questions in mind, but he didn’t know what to say. “Tartaglia, as a fatui harbinger, do you tend to distance yourself from the ones you love?” He let out an awkward chuckle at the end, as he couldn’t believe he was asking such a question from someone he isn’t really that close with.
Tartaglia was slightly taken aback at the unexpected question, one that made him wonder what exactly happened between the two, but he didn’t want to pry.
Nevertheless he tried to come up with a reply. “Well, not at all. I prioritize my family so much. If I have to choose, obviously I would pick my loved ones over work. But of course, I have to balance my life with the fatui and my family. If I see them while working, I would go to them with open arms,” he gave the samurai a gentle smile, reminiscing about an incident long ago when a certain traveller brought his brother Teucer to him in the Northland bank.
Still with a pout on his face, Kazuha let out a heavy sigh and looked away from the Schneznayan. “Scaramouche he- I don’t think he still- I- I don’t know,” the ronin couldn’t stop his stammering, his messy thoughts aren't helping him construct a proper sentence. He trailed off at the end, not knowing how to speak his mind. This made the eleventh harbinger grow worried.
“Ah, well, perhaps he’s just busy with work?” Tartaglia gave him his two cents, but the expression on the Inazumian’s face did not change.
“I understand that, but why does it feel like something vanished from between us?” Kazuha trembled at his own words, breathing heavily as he was trying not to ponder on his overthinking. “I don’t want to think of the worst case scenario, but I’m afraid that I’d lose him soon if I don’t do anything about it.”
Tartaglia let out a scoff upon hearing those words, making Kazuha glance up to the man once more. “The Balladeer, too focused with work that he forgets what’s most important to him. Honestly, when it comes to romance, aside from your partner, La Signora is the only one with experience among the harbingers, but you know what happened to her a couple of years ago,” He sighed. “But I’ll say this, Kazuha. I don’t think he would ever want to lose the only person he ever gives a fuck about.”
Kazuha stared empty at the ground once more, letting out a heavy sigh while his heart ached. Something about what the ginger had said felt too good to be true, and he wished that were the case but the care that he once felt is slowly fading away and he’s trying to hopelessly grasp onto it. It’s only a matter of time before they both become each other’s memories. He didn’t want to further disturb the harbinger with his work, and so he didn’t say a word and just slowly nodded at him.
Tartaglia pouted at his sight. “Ever since you came into his life, Scaramouche became slightly more patient towards everyone. I hope things go well for you both soon, because honestly? You’re the only one who knows how to shut him up.”
Kazuha chucked a bit at his statement, making Tartaglia smile at him amused. “It was nice talking to you, Tartaglia. I believe you still have something to do?”
The other nodded in response. “Anytime,” he said before continuing his way, leaving the samurai alone with his thoughts once more.
Standing firm in the middle of the Zapolyarny Palace, Kazuha realized that he had no idea where to go. Usually, when Beidou would drop him off her ship to visit his lover, he would spend the whole day beside the Balladeer, chatting and singing the day away. Now that they aren’t really on speaking terms with each other, he doesn’t know who else to go to.
The Crux fleet had most likely already left for their business in Sumeru, and he isn’t familiar with the ice kingdom, usually only staying indoors the palace because of the utterly cold breeze of their environment.
Kazuha didn’t want to stay indoors, though. He thought that perhaps it was good for him to try and experience roaming around the frosty city for the day. Maybe the sheer cold that he would feel would disturb him from the heavy feeling in his chest. He decided that it was better to walk under the freezing weather than to stay in a place that constantly reminded him of the dreadful space between him and a certain someone.
So with that, he makes his way towards the entrance of the great palace. Right when huge doors opened in front of him, a great gush of chilly breeze waved right on his front, the immediate coldness making him focus on tightly gripping his coat. He walked towards the path and observed his gloomy surroundings before walking around the streets of Snezhnaya.
His plan didn’t really work. The cold harsh wind could be heard storming throughout the city, and only silent chatters and raspy breaths could be heard from the townspeople. The touch of the snow falling from the sky would make the ronin shiver every time it happens. The quietness of the town was eerie and uncomfortable enough for Kazuha to want to seek comfort.
This reminded him of his source of solace years ago, which was laying on huge rocks under the heat of the sun as the breeze would blanket him from the heat. He started walking towards the entrance of a nearby Snezhnayan forest, hoping to find exactly what he is looking for. Of course, because of the naturally freezing weather of the nation, he wouldn’t feel the warmth of the sun, but he didn’t mind at all. All he wanted was to find a place he can temporarily call home.
Upon landing his eyes on a rather large rock in the chilly depths of the woods, he instantly walked up to it and sat himself down on top of the natural mass. He adjusted his coat to make it cover himself, acting like a blanket to defend himself from the freezing temperatures.
Sure, Kazuha told himself to wander about the chilly nation in order to distract himself from a certain fatui harbinger, but he couldn’t help but think about how much he misses seeing the sparkle in his galaxy eyes everytime he teases him about his flustered expression, the gentleness in his voice whenever they would sing along to their song, and the soft touch of his delicate hands against his own. Just thinking about it made the samurai blush red, but it didn’t help him get rid of the negative thoughts in his head. It only made him feel much lonelier than before.
Although Scaramouche is now present in the same nation as he is in, the ronin couldn’t help but think that it was better when they were both physically apart from each other, than being in the same place, yet not being acknowledged by his own lover. He misses the time wherein he would ponder about all the things he would say and do to the harbinger as he patiently waits for him to come back to him, giggling at his own thoughts and getting excited about how the other would react.
At least then, Kazuha foolishly believed that he was still being loved by the other.
Maybe Tartaglia is right. Perhaps he really is just busy and I’m just thinking about this too deeply. The samurai didn’t know which was worse- to hopelessly pretend that the other is just preoccupied with work, or accept the truth that the other had long drifted away from his grasp, the unbeatable storms in between preventing them from staying together.
Kazuha asked the winds for guidance, but all he was given was a harsh breeze that made him shiver on his seat. He gripped his coat closer to his body, desperately reaching for warmth against the bitterly cold weather. The empty feeling in his chest hurts more than the cold he is trying to combat.
˗ˏˋ ྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
Another day had passed, and standing in front of the familiar door that he visits everyday, he hesitated in twisting the golden knob. He sharply inhaled and deeply exhaled before grasping the doorknob and forcing himself to push open the door, bracing himself for yet another emotionless conversation, if the other would even speak up to him.
His crimson eyes darted around the room and realized that the sixth fatui harbinger had not yet arrived in his own office. He let out a deep sigh of relief and made his way to his usual seat, now being embraced by the unimaginable tension of waiting for when his lover would arrive.
He started his now-usual routine, which was to anxiously bounce his feet on the ground, his fingers rapidly tapping the armrest of the seat he is on, and his eyes staring at the ticking clock stuck on the wall. It would be unusual for him to just leave the room, because he would always wait for the harbinger no matter what, and let him know whenever he wants to go somewhere. Perhaps he is still not accustomed to their dying love, hopelessly gripping on the habits that would usually make both of them feel comfortable. Now he just feels like a nervous wreck everyday, just waiting for when it will happen.
Kazuha got bored of counting the seconds he wasn't with the balladeer, and so instead made his ruby eyes wander around the room. His sight landed on the rather messy desk with stacks of documents on top of each other.
He grumbled at his sight, jealous of the papers getting more attention than he is. He glared at every single file that he could see, as if telling them all to fuck off. However, his lips quickly went dry and his heart froze upon seeing a piece of paper with the words, “Dear Kaedehara Kazuha,” carefully written on them.
Shit .
Kazuha quickly looked away and leaned further onto the chair, letting in a deep breath. He thinks that he shouldn’t even know the existence of the paper in the first place, and tries to forget that he ever saw the letter but the growing curiosity inside him wouldn’t budge. His thoughts are now way more chaotic than before, as thousands of questions suddenly erupted in his mind, knowing that answers may be written on that one certain letter.
What is written on the letter?
Why did Scaramouche write a letter when he’s right here?
When will he give it to him?
Is everything going to be okay?
No matter how much he tries to slow down, he can't control his heavy breathing. The thought that Scaramouche is writing a letter for him is so burdensome and overwhelming. Kazuha even thought that the man had already forgotten his name, so seeing that there is still something he wants to say to the samurai is making him lose his mind.
Kazuha couldn’t help it.
Just a quick glance , he told himself before snatching the paper from the desk and reading its contents, gripping tightly on its sides as if his whole life depended on it.
… Oh
His heart started beating heavily, and he felt as if there was a lump on his throat that is preventing him breathing properly. His mind is going through a malfunction and there is no solution for it at the moment. He dropped the letter on the floor without giving it a single fuck, and placed both his hands to his mouth, trying to hamper the sound of his whimpering, hoping that no one could hear him from outside.
Was he planning to do it through a fucking letter?!
His chest felt really heavy, and he wanted to cry out his pain, but for some reason he could just sit there frozen. His hands started trembling and his feet started bouncing rapidly. He doesn’t know what to do anymore. The fact that his suspicions are confirmed is shattering him.
Dear Kaedehara Kazuha,
I’m sorry, but I fell out of love for you...
He hates the fact that apparently, the harbinger felt more comfortable when he was away from him in Fontaine. He admitted that he never even thought of him while there, never even missed him. When he arrived back, he felt guilty and exhausted just by seeing the ronin’s face. He doesn’t even know how to communicate with him anymore, so he just ignored him.
He hates how everything about them is now a fragments of the past, and there’s no turning back, not anymore.
He felt all the strength in him fade away, unable to move from the chair he is sitting on. He tries to hold his breath, shivering at the truth. All he could do was slowly lift his knees to his chest and weakly hug himself in a fetal position, since there was no one else in the empty room to comfort him. His whimpers bounce around the walls of the room, but his focus is entirely on wondering about what he had just read. His eyes stared blankly at the wall in front of him, feeling small in comparison to the huge room he is in.
Oh right .
He’s still in his office, and he only remembered when he heard the door slowly creak open. Upon hearing the sudden sound, Kazuha turned his head to its direction and could only stare at the indigo eyes he couldn't help but still love.
Kazuha is already so accustomed to loving the harbinger, that he doesn’t know how to let go of him anymore.