Chapter Text
[warning : spoilers for the inazuma and sumeru archon quests]
He had been to many places in Teyvat. Being part of the Fatui required him to travel to these different places and find some familiarity everywhere. And yet, Scaramouche was always alone.
Finding a home? That concept was foreign to him. Finding friends was not something a monster like him was capable of, and even if he could, he wouldn't have wanted to. Humans revelled in betraying others, and he did not wish to come anywhere near such fragile emotions again.
It seems that he was destined to be a wanderer for life.
There was not a single place he could call "home"; not a single person be could come back to and feel safe with.
His own mother, the electro archon of Inazuma had abandoned him, driving him away from the very place he had been created in.
His sister, Raiden, seemed to be happily filling in the place he should've been in.
The Fatui and his subordinates never really cared for him.
His fellow harbingers saw him as a menace. A puppet with a foul mouth, to be played with and tossed aside. Tartaglia liked messing around with him, seeing him as an easy target because he couldn't really retaliate without consequences. They were all supposed to be a harmonious team under the Tsaritsa after all. Dottore saw him as a mere experiment. An interesting species he wished to get his hands on. Pantalone simply saw him as a rebellious, bratty child. To the others, he was more or less invisible. Until he ran away with the electro gnosis at least.
His underlings saw him as a terrifying dictator, who would smash them to pieces if they didn't follow his every word. Well, it wasn't too far-fetched to think that way, after all.
His old friends abandoned him. His current acquaintances despised him. They either hated him, or sucked up to him.
But it didn't really matter to him anymore. None of it did. He had found a new purpose in his life.
Collaborating with the Sumeru Academia and using the very person who wanted to use him - Dottore, that ever-psychopathic doctor - he would become the person no one could ever abandon again. Even if they only saw him as a tool now, to be thrown away if his need expired, they would soon bow to him. They would fear the being they had themselves created.
And yet, while he stood chained down in The Academia's lab, that person kept flashing before his eyes. He could never forget him.
It had been when he had been travelling to Sumeru with the electro gnosis. He had hidden away in a merchant ship. It was nighttime, and the cool breeze had been acting as a chilling reminder of the present. He was travelling; he wasn't trapped in Inazuma anymore. He was moving farther and farther away from those traitors who had betrayed him. Behind him, a door opened and a man stepped out. Scaramouche slumped behind a barrel to stay out of sight. Way to ruin his peaceful silence.
That man was playing soft tune on a leaf whistle. A strangely haunting, familiar tune. It was the same tune he had heard many times before, played by one of the people he had trusted and been abandoned by. A strange sense of melancholy mixed with anger rose in him.
Peeking out from behind the barrel, Scaramouche saw the person with white hair with a streak of red walk towards the edge of the ship. The clothing was just as he remembered his old acquaintance wearing - the Kaedehara family's staple clothing.
Bile rose in his throat. He wished to step out and obliterate the man then and there, but he could not. He was on the run, and he did not wish to attract any unnecessary attention. He knew that the Fatui were keeping a sharp eye out for him, and while he may be able to subdue thousands of men by himself, a bunch of Harbingers were a different question.
Scaramouche had to stay hidden.
Suddenly, the man stopped playing the tune. He sighed, letting the leaf drop from his hands.
"It's useless," the man muttered. His voice halted Scara's breath for a moment. It was a soft, musical voice, with a deep sadness oozing from it. A sadness that Scaramouche would very well have related to, if he had been more human.
The man continued, "Okay, that's enough, Kazuha. You have decided to leave them behind once and for all. Do not think about home again. You're now a wanderer. You're free to fly in the sky, spread your wings and fly away. Do not look behind, do not linger... Those make nice lines. I should write them down."
You're free to fly in the sky...
You're now a wanderer.
Scaramouche wondered if this man was in the same position as him. Was he on the run from someone? Or had he just left his old life behind like Scara himself had?
Despite his curiosity, it did not matter. Scara would not get to talk to this man even if he wanted to. However, just as he was about to skulk even further back, the man spoke aloud. "Are you really going to keep hiding? Don't worry, I don't bite. And there's no one around right now, if you're worried about others."
Scara's breath hitched. This was the first time someone had caught him hiding without him revealing himself.
There was no point in staying hidden anymore. He would have to face whatever happened.
"How did you know I was here?"
"I could feel in the wind the moment I stepped foot here. It was funny how to tried to hide yourself, so I did not say anything beforehand but I wouldn't mind some company now."
Scaramouche scowled. Did this man see him as some form of entertainment?
"Humans are as shameless as ever, it seems. I do not wish to become a plaything for you, mortal."
That man looked at him sideways. "You speak in a funny way, even considering my poetic habits. Perhaps you could teach me a thing or two? I would love to write a few things with this style."
Scaramouche felt the intense urge to slap this person the way he used to slap his subordinates. But he could not create a scene here. "That's enough. I am leaving now."
That man jumped. "Oh hey, hey. Hold on, where are you doing? Won't you enjoy the wind with me a little?"
"The wind is disgusting, so no."
"That's mean. I have an anemo vision, you know," he said, pouting. "Come on, just accompany me for one night. I feel a little lonely right now. Aren't you too? I feel the loneliness in you."
Scaramouche scowled at him. Loneliness in him? That made no sense. He was happier than he had ever been. He owned the gnosis that he had been created for. What else could he want? "Don't give me that. We are different."
The white haired menace laughed. "Alright, Sir Different. Will you accompany me and show me a bit about yourself? Oh let me introduce myself first. I'm Kazuha. What can I call you?"
"Nothing. I'm just a wanderer without a name."
Kazuha seemed curious as well as slightly amused. "Alright then. I'll call you Wanderer. How about it?"
"Seems terrible."
"You're so positive, I love it," Kazuha said, light sarcasm in his voice. But Scaramouche wasn't offended. The way Kazuha spoke did not allow him to take offence. It was almost annoying.
“So, what do you say? Will you tell me your story? Two wanderers sharing a nice, familiar moment under this soft breeze?”
“No.”
“If you didn’t want to, you could’ve walked away without waiting for me to finish speaking, to be honest.”
Scaramouche scowled. Perhaps he should have just walked away, after all. But- for some reason, he didn’t really want to. He felt at peace for the first time in a very long time.