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I cannot forget you, not because I have a strong memory but because my heart never denies those who settled.
If he could pick his pain, Childe would prefer for it to be physical. He would rather feel something that he sees than be wrecked by an emotion that he couldn’t explain or touch. It would be too complex and agonizing for him to understand so he would rather avoid it like a coward than be an undaunted warrior and suffer the consequences of being audacious in the face of the unknown. However, those musings were of the past. Before he met that person, Childe avoided being too attached. But he’s only human. And no matter how much he resists, it is human nature to chase for something they can never keep.
“Is that you, balladeer?”
Amid the fog and thunderous climate of Inazuma, an unmoving silhouette stood idly in front of a stranger’s grave. Childe approach the figure in haste, afraid that it will fade once more like it did in the past. However, before he could even reach him, or speak of his intentions, an indifferent voice answered his call.
“I’m afraid you are mistaken.” The man said harshly and walks away from him before he could even hold him. You’re leaving me again, Scaramouche.
“Don’t go.” he whispered, which made the retreating figure stop for a moment. The 11th’s expression was hidden by his drenched bangs and darkened surroundings. Even so, the aura that he emits, the tone of his voice, and even his sluggish way of walking gave away the pain that he’s feeling. Every inch of Tartaglia’s body betrayed him the moment he heard his voice. He had no way of hiding his misery before this man.
“Do you despise me so, balladeer? Even if you do, do you really have to go as far as pretending as if we never shared something before?” Tartaglia’s voice cracked. The harbinger held the wanderer’s hands tightly, afraid to let go. “I beg of you. Please tell me; I am not as forgettable as your silence is making me feel.” He pleaded as his vision continued to blur. Childe felt nausea but he still refused to let the one who got away go. However, despite his stubbornness, the truth still stands that he was already weakened from days of travelling without rest, and the fatigue finally caught up with him. Childe almost fall to the ground as his knees buckled from exhaustion, but the hands he was holding caught him by the arm and dragged him inside a ruined hut. He allowed himself to be pulled by him without protest until they were inside. The wanderer then harshly threw him to the broken floor and before he could even say anything, Childe’s vision went black.
“Foolish mortal.”
*
Waking up in a daze while feeling an immense amount of loss without knowing the source of that emptiness was nightmarish, even for a simpleton like Childe. At first, he was at a loss. He felt like he forgot something important. However, no matter how much he tries to recall, he couldn’t seem to remember or understand the sudden surge of emotion inside his heart. Tartaglia felt extremely heartbroken without reason to the point that it made his throat ache because of too much crying in his sleep. Then the next morning, he would wake up without remembering anything. It was as if his own mind was playing with his own heart. He could not point the source of his distress out. And after stressing over it for the entire day, the harbinger would find himself wallowing in sadness but it’s maddening him that he doesn’t have any clue as to why he’s grieving. He was confused for weeks. That is until he stumbled on a certain sealed diary underneath his pillows.
The notebook has his writing though some of the pages looked old, Childe wouldn’t mistake his own penmanship. It was obviously his diary, but at the same time, it wasn’t. the content of the journal was not about him. Rather it was about a certain someone whom he doesn’t remember nor recognize. Even so, the affection of the writer pierces through the pages. Clumsy attempts at humor and cringeworthy praises that is directed to a man named Scaramouche solidified his suspicions that this diary is indeed his. However, he doesn’t understand why he does not remember him or have any recollection of the said sixth harbinger in question. So, Childe continued to browse the journal until a small note fell from one of the pages.
[If the doctor resets your memory once more, this sign will serve as proof that everything I have written in this diary is nothing but the truth. You said it yourself that you will not deny the existence of this events if I keep the traces of your elemental power in this notebook.]
Tartaglia traced every letter on the note. There was a faint mark of someone’s elemental power in it. it felt familiar to him, so he decided to read everything.
[Today, I met one of the harbingers. He’s short and temperamental. He’s filled with rage, it’s cute. I want to fight him. They call him Scaramouche, The Balladeer.]
There was red ink at the top of the beginning sentence. The word temperamental was encircled along with the word short. Childe doesn’t recognize the handwriting, but he chuckled at the comment.
You are dead, it said.
Childe then skimmed through the pages even more. The rest of the leaves only talk about how this Scaramouche person hates him to the core. But there are some chapters where he can feel his own longing for this person. It’s strange how his heart stirs with every phrase and comments for that comrade. Just who is he to him? He had no way of answering the question. A whole day already passed yet he never came up with a proper answer, so he gave up. Childe retired for the day and headed to sleep that night.
*
Tartaglia finds himself standing amongst the crowd of fatui soldiers. With his old mask on, he noticed that he was also wearing his old uniform before he became a harbinger. Is this perhaps a dream? He questioned himself but before he could process his situation, the doctor walked in with a familiar figure in tow.
“Are you certain that one of these garbage can be competent enough to fit my standards?” The criticizing tone and harsh words of the youth made some of the soldier’s flinch. “If they as much hinder me or become a burden, expect that you will not find them again.” The man said, before marching towards their crowd, leaving the doctor who didn’t even bother to respond.
“Lord Scaramouche, I-I can…”
Only the bravest of souls dares to enter the ranks of the fatui. However, when it comes to dealing with the harbingers themselves, one would need a different kind of courage especially when the one you’re dealing with is someone as mean as the one before him.
“When did I allow you mongrel to speak?”
Childe strangely remembers this encounter. This was the first time he met him. Scaramouche, the sixth harbinger who everyone hates and admires at the same time because of his rumored battle prowess and hateful personality. The man seems to love reprobating those who are beneath him. He’s infamous for his villainous attitude and hypocrisy when dealing with his targets. Still, his personality aside, Childe admires those who possess a great amount of strength and battle experience. He thirsts for a challenge greater than his own and those who sits at the pinnacle of their organization has what he’s exactly looking for.
“You. The ginger with an idiotic look on his face.” Childe pointed his fingers to his chest mindlessly. He was not paying attention to the commotion, and this didn’t go unnoticed by the harbinger who glared at him fiercely. “You’re coming with me.”
In a flash, Tartaglia’s surroundings became a blur. The fog in his dreamscape thickened as he tried to reach for someone’s shadow, but it faded before he could touch it. The next moment, he finds his own person falling from the crypt while holding a smaller body compared to his. Tartaglia closed his eyes, bracing for the impact of the long fall but it never came.
“Ha ha ha! Have you seen your face? Scaredy-cat.” The one he was holding in his arms was gone. Tartaglia is floating. When he looked up, he’s faced with a smug Scaramouche who’s extremely pleased by their situation. Childe is no longer wearing the uniform of the agents. It appears that this time, he is with Scaramouche as the 11th Harbinger, Childe.
“That wasn’t funny. You could have at least given me a warning before pushing both of us to our deaths.” He said, but even Childe finds his own demands silly now. He wouldn’t have broken his neck even if he hit the ground. But he can’t exactly change his words when his memory is the one speaking, not him. He was just inaugurated as a new harbinger at this time, and he was still quite fearful of cliffs because it evokes unpleasant memories. But of course, things are different now. “Ha! You’re such a baby. This is exactly why you are the eleventh despite having the tenth seat open. Your rank speaks for your abilities.” With his condescending tone and mocking gesture, Scaramouche added, “Weakling.” The balladeer said in ridicule before walking away from a stunned Childe, who’s now more than thrilled to kick the haughty harbinger before him than to finish the mission that was given to them.
“Would you like to test that theory about my abilities, Mochi?”
Scaramouche came to an abrupt stop. Childe can almost see the veins popping in the balladeer’s neck as he faced him, enraged. “What did you just call me?” With a smile, Childe charged with confidence. He knows that Scaramouche loves putting himself on a high pedestal. The sixth harbingers treat those who are below him worse than ants. So, obviously, he will be angered if one of those ants disrespects him and addresses him without regard for seniority. “You’re begging for death!” Scaramouche raged, but he only laughed while trying to hit the flying human saucer who’s surprisingly agile despite his lax disposition. Childe debated whether to use his delusion in taking Scaramouche down since he can’t even seem to get close. He’s stuck on the defensive while the latter showers him with thunder and profanity. It appears that he truly did anger him.
“When I said you are weakling, I didn’t mean it as a theory,” He heard him say spitefully but Childe didn’t have time to rebuke his words for another cluster of thunderstorms fell above his head. Luckily for him, he managed to activate his delusion on time. However, before he could even adjust, Scaramouche was already behind him, the balladeer’s hand crept on his neck and before another word could come out of his mouth, Childe was already eating dirt. “I meant it as reality.” Scaramouche added, then everything went black.
After that incident, Childe rarely saw Scaramouche on their base. He woke up inside one of Scaramouche’s agent tents. And never saw him that day. Occasionally, they would cross paths during meetings but after that, the balladeer would immediately disappear. Childe wanted to challenge him once more, so he went out of his way to search for him on his own. After all, it is not every day that he finds someone who can pummel him unconscious.
“Do you have a penchant for extremely high places?”
Tartaglia heard a small tsk from the balladeer. He never shies away from expressing his distaste when it comes to him, doesn’t he? Childe only chuckled in amusement, but Scaramouche looked done with him. “And do you not possess any self-awareness? I have taken you for a fool, but it appears that a word that can describe your folly is yet to be created.” The vitriol in every word that Scaramouche uttered made him flinch a bit. However, Childe had been an expert in controlling the expression that appears on his face. “I have always wondered, do humans who challenge those who are above them actively seek death? But of course, I have no way of knowing. After all, I am not your kind, fortunately.” Scaramouche said with sheer mockery, but Childe can only laugh. “I admit that I have a lot to learn, but…” the 11th approached the balladeer whose smirk suddenly disappeared. Childe was hovering on Scaramouche. The difference in their height was obvious with how much Childe must look down just to make eye contact with him. “I also know that humans or not, people tend to hate what they do not understand. Comrade, do you want me to teach you what its like to be human?” he asked with sincerity, but his offer was met with contempt. Scaramouche grabbed him by his collar and Childe can feel that his feet had already left the ground. “Do you want to die that badly, Tartaglia?”
Childe only beamed at the balladeer in response who later, threw him to the ground. “I wouldn’t mind dying though. If I die fighting you, or alongside you, then wouldn’t it all be worth it? After all, I will pass doing what I love best.” He said, but Scaramouche only threw him a look of indifference, while mumbling about how naive Childe is. He then followed him back to the balladeer’s camp, but it appears that Scaramouche was doing his assignment on his own. There were no agents around. Only a tent and a few supplies.
“You live a gloomy life, don’t you?” he commented, which earned him a bump on his head. After that, he continued to follow Scaramouche around like a subordinate. He finds that the harbinger despises being inconvenienced, thus he always worked alone. But since he’s not entirely useless, Scaramouche is yet to drive him out of the party.
“Don’t you have something better to do than to follow me around like a lost dog?” Scaramouche asked one time, tired of having Childe follow him everywhere. “Not at the moment, no. But if you accept my challenge, then I’ll have something better to do. Besides, I’m also learning a lot from you, so following you around is not entirely useless.” He pointed out, which only made the balladeer roll his eyes. “What about you? What’s your mission about?” Childe inquired, while trying to get a look inside the scroll that was sent from Snezhnaya to Scaramouche.
“Why should I impart the details of my mission to you? I’m not a fool.”
“But that’s how you make friends. You share things and stuffs.” He declared, but Scaramouche only laughed at his response. “I don’t wish to befriend you.” Scaramouche said without a second thought, expecting Childe to be annoyed. However, contrary to his expectation, Childe just became more radiant as if he was enlightened by his remark.
“Then, do you wish to be more than friends (best friends)?” he asked excitedly, but Scaramouche’s expression only became sour. “I want us to have nothing to do with each other. Does that answer your dumb question?” He heard him say hatefully but instead of being offended, Childe only laughed out loud.
“Eh, how can that be? You like my company. I’ll never leave you alone if I can help it, Mochi!” Tartaglia chuckled but stopped to run because a saucer hat started to chase him away. “Ha! Serves you right for being so cocky!” Scaramouche shouted cheerfully once the hat had hit him. Childe can only groan as the latter kept on kicking his side lightly, urging hm to stand.
*
Their days together continued to be monotonous. Except for the occasional bickering and rare trauma dumping. It was enjoyable. Scaramouche would occasionally spar with him when the latter felt like it but most of the time, they’re stuck with nothing but silence between them. it wasn’t anything awkward though. If he must name it, Childe will say that it’s their peaceful bonding time wherein the only thing they listen to is the idle sound of their surroundings. From buzzing of fireflies to the graceful sound of water as it falls from the ridge, everything sounded like music to their ears. On rare days he would witness Scaramouche soft side. The way the balladeer would genuinely guide the children and elderly that they would encounter in the mountains as if he were some adeptus made Tartaglia smile. At least they have something in common. Even if he’s the only one who noticed, it doesn’t really matter.
“Mochi, I might not be able to see you for a while.”
Childe leaned onto Scaramouche’s shoulder. He got an order to take the Geo Archon’s gnosis to the Tsaritsa by any means he deemed necessary. He guessed that it would take a good amount of his time since he’s certain that, that God is not someone who can be trifled with.
Scaramouche did not respond. Childe wasn’t counting on him to do so anyway. But after a long period of silence, he heard a whisper of advice.
“Don’t die, Ajax.”
“I won’t. I’ll see you again, Mochi.” He said softly as his dreamscape became filled with fog and static. Tartaglia already knew. His dream came to an end and the moment he wakes up, he will forget everything that was said.
*
From the land where mora flows, to the nation where thunderstorms grow, Tartaglia headed for the place where knowledge blossoms. He was supposed to stay put in his homeland but the emptiness that he felt along with the darkness that accompanied it didn’t allow him to be at peace. However, before he left his own nation, Tartaglia went to see the doctor. But at the end of the day, even the man scientist was not able to provide him with answers. That’s why he decided to search for It on his own. Retracing his own footsteps, their footsteps, Childe went to the places that are scribed in the diary. He headed to every recorded setting in his journal to restore his memory and possibly find the one he was searching for. However, his efforts were met with futility. Childe already scoured every location in the diary except for one. On the last page, he talked about receiving a final letter from Scaramouche. About how he will leave the fatui and become a God of his own right in Sumeru. The balladeer wrote that Childe doesn’t need to find him anymore because he will be betraying the fatui. That’s why he doesn’t understand. That person betrayed the fatui and based on the diary, he was already aware of his plans. But what bothers him is that everyone in the organization believes that the seat of sixth had always been empty, so it’s impossible for a harbinger who does not exist to betray the fatui. It’s obviously an anomaly. But thinking and solving schemes had never been Childe’s strongest points. That’s why he’s counting on the sages and scholars to provide him with an answer once he gets there. However, what he did not expect when he arrived there was the fact that no one remembers anything about the fatui wreaking havoc in their country. But despite his disappointment, there was one thing they managed to help him with.
The locals pointed him to someone who fits the description of Scaramouche in his diary. The only difference is that the one before him is soft-spoken. Unlike the harsh and sarcastic Scaramouche in his journal, this one was a completely different person. Still, Tartaglia did not hesitate to approach him. His clothes may be different and the way he speaks might have changed, but he doesn’t doubt that he’s the same person inside his head.
“I apologize, but I do not recognize you, gentleman. You have the wrong person.” He said to him, looking visibly confused. After a while, another familiar face came into the picture. The traveler came and accompanied the one he mistook for Scaramouche for the rest of the day, barring Childe from approaching his comrade’s doppelganger. This, of course, did not upset him or anything. But there was certainly an unwelcome pain in his heart that day before he went to sleep.
*
Nahida looked down on the sleeping image of a stranger. The traveler informed her of Scaramouche’s previous acquaintance who’s currently looking for the balladeer when supposedly, Scaramouche should have not remained in anyone’s memories except for them. Surfing through the harbinger’s mind was easy and she can confirm that Scaramouche was no longer in his memory, until days ago that is.
Along with Tartaglia’s memory, Nahida read the contents of a worn-out diary. Every ink spilled on the paper tells a story of someone’s affection. This child obviously loved Scaramouche. However, whether the latter felt the same or not was not something she could decide. Even so, to deprive someone of a memory that made them whole was cruel even in her standards. The dendro archon is debating whether the solution in her mind is the right choice. However, there is no way of knowing if she will not test the outcome of possibilities, so she did what she deemed as the best resolution. Lesser Lord Kusanali restored Childe’s memory. As for the outcome of her choice, the Balladeer and the Young Lord will give her the answer whether she was right or wrong.
*
When Childe woke up the next morning, he was in a daze. His headache was unbearable, but it cannot compare to the agony that he’s feeling in his heart as his own memory caught him by surprise. Scaramouche denied his connection with him. Did he somehow forget about him on the process of becoming a god? Did Dottore perhaps inserted an immense amount of chemicals into him once more which caused him to forget who he was once more? There were too many questions and lesser answers. Even now that his memories of him have been restored, he still doesn’t know if Scaramouche will ever tell him everything that he wants to know.
‘But even if he lies, that’s fine. It’s enough for me to see him alive.’
“Find the traveler.” He ordered as he left for the harbor. Aether left Sumeru with Scaramouche before he could even catch up to them. As to why Aether lied to him straight to his face, he’ll know when he gets there. But for now, he first needs to find them.
“According to our intel, the traveler is currently in Inazuma. Apparently, the Yashiro Commission invited him to participate to an event of some sort.”
Childe smiled lightly, while looking towards Inazuma’s direction.
“Is that so?”
Scaramouche, did you decided to pay your respects to your roots?
“I’m afraid I can’t help you this time around.”
Childe found Aether in the center of Inazuma City. However, the moment he mentioned Scaramouche’s name, the traveler immediately averted his gaze. The duo left him standing but was still speaking loudly amongst themselves.
“Do you think we should tell him?” Aether’s tone was hushed. However, the same thing cannot be said about his flying companion.
“No way! He doesn’t wish to see any of the fatui! I bet he’s here to catch him or do something mean! Besides, have you forgotten the expression that he made when we mentioned Childe’s name?! And remember what Lesser Lord Kusanali said? It is not our place to mend their relationship. Scaramouche chose to have everyone in Teyvat forget him, not because he doesn’t want to be remembered but because he knows that he will not regret it. Childe was not an exception to that.”
Childe was about to butt in. However, going by the run of their conversation, he already knew the answer to his question. Scaramouche doesn’t want to see him any longer. But even if that’s the case, he refuses to hear it in someone else’s mouth. If Scaramouche wishes to severe his connection with him then he has to say it in his face. Otherwise, Childe will continuously chase pavements until he’s worn out of his mind. With that, he started to scour every place in Inazuma that he has access to. From the city to the shrine, Childe looked for the balladeer without rest—not that he needs much of it. However, as if luck has abandoned him, the rain started to pour. He just arrived at Tatarasuna and because of the bad weather, the sun had completely hidden itself which resulted to even more problems. Childe’s eyesight isn’t exactly bad. But because he’s been travelling nonstop, his sight is starting to blur. His headache is not leaving him as well which is unusual since he doesn’t easily get sick.
Childe kept on walking as the lightning and thunder served both his company and light. It appears that Scaramouche is not on this island as well. However, just when he’s about to leave, the lightning pulsed a long line through the graphite sky which allowed him to see a familiar silhouette from a distance.
“Is that you, balladeer?”
*
Childe jerked out of sleep. When he attempted to sit up, a warm cloth fell from his forehead. He felt feverish. And before he knew it, he was gently shoved back to the bed. His eyelids felt heavy and his throat dry.
“Who gave you permission to move around?” the stern reprimand made Childe look towards the door where the voice originated. Scaramouche was leaning on the door frame of the room with a floating tray of water and medicine on his side. The smaller man walked towards him—while glaring daggers with his eyes. “What kind of fool would search Inazuma during that weather? Are you trying to quicken your death?” Despite the balladeer’s continuous admonition, his hands did not stop moving. Taking the towel from Childe’s forehead, Scaramouche soaked the piece of cloth to the basin of warm water. He then fed Childe the medicine before looking at his face once more. “What do you want exactly? Following me around like a lost dog, are you trying to sling more shame to your reputation?” he questioned but Childe can only laugh humorously.
“As if you care about something like that.” He said sarcastically, which made Scaramouche stop whatever he was doing. “What did you just say?”
“You left.” Before the balladeer could even come up with a snarky comeback, Childe continued. “But your schemes didn’t take you too far this time, it appears.“ A pregnant silence sits in between them. “I found the diary that I have written in the past in an event that Dottore resets your memory of us once more. I have read everything, and it all seems real to me but the question of why I couldn’t remember you when you seemed so important to me remained.” Childe stares at the back of Scaramouche’s head. The latter refused to face him, but that’s fine. After all, he wouldn’t know if he will be able to handle Scaramouche’s look of indifference. If he makes an impression of nonchalance when Childe is this broken, he doesn’t know if he can take it. “Do you know how confused I felt when I saw you walking with the traveler and waking up the next morning with the realization that you had downright denied any memory of me? How do you think that made me feel?” Childe buried his face on the back of Scaramouche’s nape. He’s crying again and he knows how much the latter hate seeing tears in someone’s eyes. Scaramouche is disgusted by weakness. He is well-aware of that. But Tartaglia couldn’t seem to hold his own sadness back. Not when everything seemed so easy for Scaramouche—as if Childe forgetting him wasn’t too much of a deal.
“I am human, Scaramouche. Unlike you, I can’t hold my tears back. Unlike you, I can never bury my feelings at the back of my mind and act as if nothing happened between us because even without a memory, I still missed you in my heart.” He sobbed uncontrollably, as the one he was leaning on finally faced him. Childe buried his face on his own hands to hide, but Scaramouche snatched his arms harshly, leaving him without a choice but to face him.
“Stop crying. You’re no longer a kid.” He said before forcefully pushing Childe to lie in his bed, while tucking him with a blanket. “I told you, didn’t I? You are not allowed to move without permission. So, until you are well,” Scaramouche placed the warm towel on his forehead again. “We will not discuss your whining, you lovesick fool.” Scaramouche said calmly, as the balladeer stood up and took the basin along with the tray. Scaramouche walked towards the entrance but before the door shut, he heard him scoff and say, “It was never easy. Do you think you’d be here now if I didn’t care about you at all?”