Work Text:
Kazuha, by his very nature, was a wanderer. Never seen in the same place twice in a week, always somewhere new. Always roaming the countryside. Often waxing poetics to animals and people who would listen, or helping someone out in their time of need, standing between a bystander and bandits.
He would accept no reward, often pushing things back to their owners, it was the right thing to do. It also helped him know, even if he failed once to save a life. He could save others. He could be proud of himself. Tomo would be proud of him.
Then he picked up on the wind, the gasps of a dying man. Being hung by his neck… He had to act. He wouldn’t let him die. Not like that. So he runs, he jumps, he glides through the air, his vision making him almost lighter than air. Anything to save that poor bystander.
But when he arrives, he sees a lifeless body hanging from a tree, his sword swings, the rope is severed and the body falls. He goes to cradle him and finally realises who it is. Shikanonin Heizou. The genius detective, a man known for giving a criminal one last chance… May have just paid for his kindness with his life. No good deed goes unpunished they say.
He tries to get him to breathe again, to start his heart. To see that vision flicker to life. To see Heizou come back, and smile, and laugh and joke about capturing him…
But all he sees, is an empty vision. The shell seems to mock him, laugh at him… But he realises, that laughter is real. The monsters responsible for his death are right behind him. He can get revenge. He can make them pay. He stands up, turns to them.
“He may have seen some good in you.” He starts, his voice cold and distant, hiding his sadness. “But all I see are monsters.” He grips his sword tightly, the next words flow out of his mouth like the serene poetry he usually spouts. “And monsters deserve to die”
And in the next moment, before they can even process his words, he is upon them, the deadly poetry of the Isshin art cutting through the ranks of treasure hoarders like he would a tatami mat. Not a single blow would land on him, to the monsters, it seemed like the wind itself either deflected their strikes or would carry him away.
The battle was over in mere minutes, and Kazuha was standing over a pile of corpses, a pool of blood. He wiped down the blade and sheathed it. He could at least clean that, but his own clothes were still splattered. He had avenged Heizou… But he hadn’t saved him. His body was still lifeless, his vision was still dark.
He couldn’t let Heizou lie there, not among the beasts who had killed him. He deserved to return to Inazuma city. So, he picked him up, carrying him like he was some fair bride. He deserved the dignity he had stolen from him.
The march to his home was hard, it took every ounce of will he had, to keep going, to push down the wish to drop to his knees and cry out. He had to get Heizou back. All he could focus on, was the road ahead, and the calm face of the now dead detective. How he missed the glint in his eyes when he had figured out the next case. How he praised him for his sensitivity to nature, how he laughed and joked with him… How their love was unspoken.
He heard sounds ahead, someone was yelling at him? He couldn’t tell, all he could hear now was the pounding of his own heart, two figures, come out of the fog of his mind, and take the body of Heizou from him… and then he has nothing left to cling onto, nothing to keep himself going forward on. He can’t beat back the tears now, can’t beat back the exhaustion that he had forcibly ignored for so long, and then the world fades to black.
----------------
When he stirs, he feels comfort, a soft bed, no longer does he smell blood clinging to him. Did he really deserve it after he failed to save someone he felt so deeply for again? Could Heizou and Tomo really be proud of him?
As he opens his eyes, adjusting briefly to the light, he can recognise two faces. One he can feel comfort in, another he sees the pains of the past, the one who Tomo faced down, and lost to.
“Kazuha!” The traveller calls immediately swarming him with a hug, and he can barely find the energy to reciprocate it. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could’ve been there with him.” Their hug, at least warmed him somewhat. Someone wasn’t disappointed with him.
He turned to look at Kujou Sara, who’s stoic face was broken by a frown. Her voice, once stubborn, one that could command an army, actually sounded… sad? “I am, deeply sorry for the loss of Doushin Heizou. He was a brilliant man, even if I do question his methods.” She pauses for a moment, he could sense the grief she was pushing down. “I am grateful to you Kaedahara for bringing him back. It is a small comfort to us all, to know that those like you will go far to return his body.”
“I wouldn’t let him lie with those monsters. You do not need to search for his killers. I have already slaughtered them.” Hearing his own voice, it was hoarse, yet the pain of his grief and his anger still cut through. He moved to stand. He wasn’t injured after all.
“Kazuha, you don’t need to get up, you can stay here, or come with me. I can offer you lodging! You have to take some time to decompress…” They started, but he just pushed them aside.
“Heizou had a dream. He wanted to be so well known, that would be criminals would not dare break the law. And now he is dead. But I think that through me, his dream would live on.” He spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
And while sure, they were able to force him to stay long enough to get a full statement out. The Tenryou Commission wanted to know just what happened. And he could easily tell them. Heizou was killed by treasure hoarders on a basic job, by being hung. They in turn were killed by himself.
He was handed back his belongings, people offered their condolences, offered him a place to stay or a shoulder to cry on in a few cases. But he would turn them down. He spoke about how as he was inclined to wander, that the nature of Teyvat would be his way to decompress. While that was not wrong per se, it was not the whole truth.
On that day, a new legend was born in the underworld of Inazuma. The Maple Leaf Killer began to roam far and wide. Where once the great detective gave them a new chance at life. They only got the cold bite of a steel blade swiftly cutting through their bodies. Heizou’s dream had taken a much darker form. A slaughterer without any remorse atoning for his perceived failures.