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The fabric of smoky galaxies and realities tearing at a swipe of her fingers is enough proof to show Lumine belongs to Teyvat now, but the mark that burns itself over her heart just drives it home.
She’s so surprised by the sensation of flying – the feeling when she spreads her arms and laughs as she shoots across the sky, racing Aether to the other side of planets, the one thing she lives for – that she stumbles over a bump on the beaten path. It’s terribly ungraceful and, embarrassed, she quickly rights herself.
Lumine manages to avoid falling but in the process ends up with a very pretty boy lunging to… well, he probably meant to help, but all he ends up doing is clinging to her shoulders like some sort of koala. It’s kind of funny.
It’s also very cute when he blinks and looks up at her, arms tightly wrapped around her shoulders, and asks seriously, “You’re okay?”
Then she realizes what she’s thinking and thinks she’s on a very dangerous path indeed. A path she, as the Abyss Princess, cannot afford. “Yes, I am,” she says kindly to the boy. Kabukimono, the locals call him. A very friendly boy eager to learn and help. “Thank you for… trying to help.”
“Of course!” He doesn’t seem to think they’re in any sort of awkward position, simply unattaching himself from her and stepping back fluidly. The sight refuses to click in her head – he seems like the type to be super clumsy – but she doesn’t get to think much on it before he says, “Since you’re okay, let’s keep going! We don’t have much before we reach the western beach.”
Then he’s off, happily plodding along the path, and Lumine eyes his neck.
It’s covered by his white robes right now, but that’s hardly a deterrent. All she would have to do is aim a well placed kick, and the sudden crisis on her hands would be solved.
She’s heard of this burning before. The common folk say it happens to everyone, a branding on not just the body but the soul, upon first meeting with one’s soulmate. Their perfect pair, matched by the heavens themselves.
It should be impossible, however, for her to have one. Perhaps she is just jumping to conclusions – she knows she’s become more paranoid in this past century – but Lumine can hardly bear the thought of anything coming between her and her duty as princess. Especially if it came from the heavens – from Celestia itself. She is their sworn enemy, so how could that be?
“Um, Miss Hotaru?”
Lumine startles, looking up.
Kabukimono is looking at her, brows furrowed in obvious concern, hands wrung together nervously. “Are you hurt? Do you need to sit down?”
Right. She should think about this later.
Ignoring how fragile his neck looks, Lumine skips forward and says, “Sorry, just panicked a bit. That could’ve turned out worse, you know?”
He relaxes, tilting his head just a bit to the side with a smile that suggests he doesn’t really get what she’s saying but is too polite to point it out. “Yeah, of course! Then, should we continue?”
“Yes, thank you. You’re very kind to do this, Kabukimono.”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t say that.” He looks forward to the trees ahead, a much softer, more boyish grin on his lips. “If you have to thank someone, thank Niwa. He’s the only reason I know where to go.”
“Oh?”
“He took me in, and he’s been teaching me a lot. Niwa, Katsuragi, Nagamasa… They’ve all been very kind to me.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Life is always better with cherished friends around.”
“Do you have people like that? Friends?”
He’s looking at her now, with big doe eyes, and Lumine hates how she hopes they shine bright for many more years to come. “Yes,” she says after a moment. “I do.”
Kabukimono beams. “I’m glad! You’re a very nice person, Miss Hotaru. I think anyone would be lucky to be friends with you.”
Really, he’s too cute. “You as well, Kabukimono. You’ve been nothing but the sweetest person.”
“Thank you for the compliment!” He spies something and his smile thins just a bit.
She wonders why, and follows his gaze to see the shores of Tatarasuna’s western beach. The location she’s hoping to poke around a bit before heading on to Watatsumi Island. The Abyss Order is always busy, after all, and as its princess she has even more responsibility than most.
That responsibility demands she do something about this boy, anything to stop him from throwing a wrench into her already volatile plans, but…
“Well, here we are, Miss Hotaru.” Kabukimono looks at her, but his smile is just a tad pitiful. “The western beach. Did you need me to stay with you a bit longer, or…?”
“No, thank you,” she says, and he droops just a bit more. He’s going to miss her, she realizes. He seems like the type to get attached too quickly to anyone, but he must have felt the burn too. He must have realized—
Wait. But, wouldn’t he have reacted? He’s already so obvious about his reluctance to leave her side – shouldn’t he have been jumping up and down upon feeling the burn of a soulmate mark?
“I’ll be fine from here on out,” she says slowly, considering her options. What if what she felt wasn’t a soulmate mark, but something else? Has she been psyching herself out for no reason? “But thank you anyway.”
“Oh. Of course, you’ll be fine.” Kabukimono shifts on his feet, expression one of deep thought. “Are you returning home, Miss Hotaru?”
“You could say that.”
He nods, and suddenly he looks just like the cheery boy she’s been talking with these past few hours. “Then, have a safe trip home.”
If he won’t bring it up, neither will she. She supposes there’s no real danger in leaving him alive – all she has to do is avoid him until the century is over, and he’ll be dead anyway. She knows saying it is just a catalyst for disaster but really, what's the worst that can happen?
Lumine waves at him, stepping towards the path ahead. “You too.”
That night, when she checks the skin over her heart, she finds a mark that, when she looks into a mirror, looks like a boy with a heart and flower. The hair is just too similar not to belong to Kabukimono.
“Never thought that would be my kind of perfect match,” she says to herself, huffing a laugh. Honestly, he just seems like the kind of person so easily attached that she would just prefer not to bother with him.
Though, she thinks with a giggle, perhaps that honesty could be kind of nice.
…wait no, that’s a dangerous thought. She mustn’t pursue that sort of thinking, lest she be derailed from her mission.
A century away from Tatarasuna, or better yet, Inazuma as a whole. Yes, that sounds like a good plan.
She files that away in her mind and finally rests for the night.
In hindsight, who would have such a personalized mark besides one belonging to the archons?
Lumine doesn’t check on Kabukimono any time in the next century, so when she overhears a fisherman in Liyue mention the date – a century and a half after the fateful meeting that resulted in a permanent brand over her heart, she thinks she might be able to visit Inazuma again.
She has no pressing matters at the moment though, so she dismisses the thought and continues on with her work.
That Tsaritsa has gotten herself a new Harbinger, and the little minions have been poking around Lumine’s territories entirely too much. She needs to find some way to deal with that first.
Maybe she can go after that new Harbinger. Inexperience begets fear, no?
“What the hell,” she says, unable to believe her eyes.
Sheer veils swish as the boy Harbinger turns, crackling with Electro as he searches for her. “Who are you?” he demands, as if he belongs to the Abyss and not the Tsaritsa, as if it’s totally fine for him to still be alive and not dead two damn centuries after she met him. “Show yourself!”
Definitely not her type. Was this a practical joke from Celestia? Stick their mortal enemy with a brat who doesn’t know his place?
(Unless, of course, her theories about primordials are correct.)
“I heard you speak,” he continues to say, posturing an almost impressive amount. “I’d suggest you show your face before I lose my patience.”
Well, she’ll just kill him if he actually tries anything. Lumine slinks out from behind a pillar, crossing her arms as she approaches the intruder in her domain. “Greetings, Kabukimono. This is, frankly, a shock.”
His expressions morph from childish rage to horror to utter surprise, mouth parting. Kabukimono raises a shaky hand, pointing at her (rather rudely), and makes funny attempts to speak.
Since he obviously doesn’t know how to start, Lumine decides she’ll spare him the embarrassment. “I never thought such a sweet boy like you would ever end up in the Tsaritsa’s hands,” she says, words coming out edged like a blade. It surprises her, the tight coil on her chest of betrayal, but once she realizes what she feels she can’t help but narrow her eyes in anger. “Never thought you’d live this long in the first place.”
“Miss Hotaru,” he says in wonder. Then his eyes sharpen and he snaps, “I should say the same about you. Two hundred years later, huh? Just what are you? Not human, that’s for sure.”
“Would you answer if I asked you the same question?”
“Don’t play games.”
“Brat. You’re so uncute now.”
“I was a naive fool back then. Stop using that outdated perception of me – it’s terribly grating.”
“So, what should I see you as?”
He crosses his arms, chin raised defiantly. She realizes he’s wearing almost all black. “The Balladeer,” he says. “Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers. My name to you is Scaramouche.”
“Meaning there’s another name?”
“There is, but you are hardly worthy to hear it.”
“What’s with that, you damn outsider? You waltz into my territory and proceed to insult me so brazenly? Many have died for less, you know.”
“Have they?” He laughs, and where it once was a sound of hearth-fire and golden afternoons, now it’s just ugly, arrogant, and clipped breaths. “I’m sure walking over mortals is fun and all, but that’s hardly anything. What are you, a Lector? A Herald? Mage?”
“Really, my exegetes were given so many names,” she says, tilting her head and shifting her weight. “I liked you, Scaramouche. Probably because of the soulmate mark, but nevertheless, I didn’t want to kill you. Seeing as how you’ve not only trespassed but even joined that backstabbing Tsaritsa—“
“Soulmate mark?” He’s looking at her strangely. “What are you talking about?”
Now it’s her turn to look at him in disbelief. “I’m talking about the marks. The ones that formed when our hands accidentally brushed?”
He blinks. “What?”
“You… did you not feel it?”
“I think it’s obvious I didn’t,” snaps Scaramouche.
“But… I’d never had a mark before you. It burned – you’re saying you never felt it?”
“No, of course not.” He grimaces, and says, “I’ve had my entire body checked over for… maintenance. I’ve never once been told about any such mark.” Scaramouche’s expression then twists and hardens, and he looks at her with building tension. “Are you lying to me?”
It feels like she’s just been punched in the stomach. For having hardly ever met him before, Lumine feels nothing but betrayal and hurt at his continued denial. It’s just the stupid mark, she knows, but—
It still hurts.
She hooks her fingers around the edge of her dress and pulls it down, unveiling the blackened lines of her mark.
To his credit, Scaramouche doesn’t fluster at seeing her skin like any normal human would. All he does is stare, hand moving to crawl over his chest.
She steps forward, closer to him. “I have your mark right here,” she says. “It’s you.”
“That—You—“
“You’re saying you never got mine?”
Scaramouche looks stricken, eyes wide with horror as he fixated upon her mark. “That’s a heart,” he says faintly. “My mark has a heart.”
“What’s wrong with it?” she asks defensively, If he tries to insult it, she might end up kneeing him in the throat.
He grits his teeth visibly. He seems to battle with himself, eyes never leaving the mark even as he growls in irritation.
“I’m not human,” he finally confesses. “I’m artificial. A puppet.”
Artificial. “So you don’t have skin to burn,” she says, realization dawning on her. “That’s how you managed to live so long.”
“I have a soulmate,” he mutters. “A soulmate no one bothered to tell me about? A soulmate that belongs to me that I can’t ever have proof of? Is there anything that goes fucking right?”
Recognizing that the path they’re on is about to lead to a trauma dump, a rant she definitely does not have the time for, Lumine interjects with a very innocently spoken, “…by the way, I’m the Abyss Princess. React right, and I won’t kill you.”
He closes his mouth, but the crazed look in his eyes suggests that he is silently screaming bloody murder.
Maybe he is her type. He seems to be just as crazy as she is.