Chapter Text
Love, as poets described it, is a beautiful thing. However, that is not the truth at all. When you're in love, you do unthinkable things for someone. You give your all and fight for something that was never yours right from the start. You become ugly. Undesirable. Foolish. But that's the reality of love, isn't it? It is disgusting, yet somehow, we seek it. We look for it and once we find it, we're ruined by it. Unconditionally. But as we know it, even in love, hurt is still half the fun.
Tartaglia placed the picture frame face down. He didn't want to see it. That agonizing smile caused by someone other than him; he doesn't need to see it. But as foolish as it sounds, Tartaglia finds himself happy whenever he sees that one image of him filled with naught but glee, as if he never knew misery. That version of Scaramouche, that side of him that will never reappear, Childe longed for it. And he's envious of that person. Of that man who's now rotting six feet under for witnessing the sincere and loving side of the balladeer, who's now brimming with nothing but self-loathing for causing the death of the one he loved dearly.
"Scara, until when do you plan on doing this to yourself?"
Lying beside the grave of the deceased while drenched with rain, Childe knelt beside the unmoving man and sheltered him from the rain. Tartaglia didn't say another word lest he incurred the wrath of the grieving. Today marks the seventh anniversary of Scaramouche's first love. He doesn't know his name. He didn't bother to know because why would he try to know the name of the man who caused his and his lover's suffering? Tartaglia absolutely hates Scaramouche's first love but at the same time, he was thankful to him. After all, Scara wouldn't be here if not for the unwanted sacrifice of that man.
"Are you not exhausted, Ajax?" Tartaglia's expression faltered. The same conversation for four consecutive years, he would be lying if he would say that he doesn't find it tiring. But he went into this relationship knowing full well what it will bring him. So, confessing the reality of their situation now wouldn't really change anything.
"Not at all." He lied.
"Heh. You liar." He heard him scoff at him, as the latter stood up and walked away from him. Childe can only close his eyes tightly and heave a sigh as the other entered his car.
"Since you already knew, then why do you torture me so?" He whispered in silence, as the patter of the rain intensified. Their anniversary always seems to happen during the stormiest nights.
-
"Do you want to do anything as a means of celebrating our anniversary today?"
Childe carefully set the plates down on the table. Scaramouche on the other hand only looked disinterested by his question. Picking up his own fork, the latter answered nonchalantly.
“Wasn’t it yesterday? It already passed. Besides what is there to celebrate?” it’s not like they’re actually in love with each other. On the contrary, Scaramouche can attest that Childe had long fallen out of love of him. The ginger is only staying beside him out of pity. Out of useless sense of obligation. That’s why, there is nothing to celebrate when their relationship with each other is this pathetic and toxic. Scaramouche cannot move on from his past. Not because he is still beholden by the dead, but because self-blame had eaten him alive. Scaramouche felt undeserving of love. He wasn’t the one who’s supposed to be alive. Niwa should be the one living his life. He’s the one who’s supposed to fall in love. That foolish man should be the one in his position not Scara. He’s the one who should be rotting underground. Scaramouche was not supposed to be around this long.
“Are you really saying that?”
Scaramouche broke away from his trance. The sound of plates and glasses shattering through the tiled floor caught him off guard. Childe had swatted him from the other side of the table, almost choking him with how much he was gripping the collar of his clothes.
“Whose fault do you think it is that we didn’t manage to do a single thing yesterday? Was it me who disappeared in the morning and cried to a dead man’s grave?” Childe’s questions were biting. His tone displays how much he was aggrieved by their situation and his ocean eyes appeared drowning in heartbreak, but Scaramouche can only muster a bitter laugh. Is this the part where he’s supposed to apologize? But he never asked him to stay by his side.
Years ago, Scaramouche had left him hints to pick up and let go. But he doesn’t know if Childe is dense or just a martyr for ignoring the clues that he left on his trail. Scaramouche never led him on. It was Childe’s choice to stay despite knowing his state. And while it is true that what he did was terrible, he cannot find it in himself to apologize because if he did, then that would mean that he regrets choosing to mourn Niwa’s death anniversary. Scaramouche isn’t ungrateful to the one person who sacrificed his chance at life just to keep him alive. That’s why, even if he can redo his actions yesterday, he would still choose to accompany the dead than be happy and act as if nothing’s wrong with his life.
“What do you want me to do? Choose you over him? I thought we already talked about this.” Before he formed a relationship with him, Scaramouche already warned Childe in advance. He will never be Scaramouche’s priority in this relationship, and he agreed. Tartaglia knew what he was signing up for, so what’s the use of being so angry now?
“If you’re going to keep on demanding something like this, then just disappear.” He said harshly, as he pried his shirt from Childe’s hold.
“You’re selfish.” Childe started, but Scaramouche only sneered at him.
“You are only realizing that now? I underestimated how gullible you are.” He mocked, but his words didn’t seem to affect Childe that much who approached him with pained eyes.
“You’re selfish,” he repeated. “…jaded, and cruel! I don’t even understand why I’m still here with you despite your nasty attitude when I can just leave you anytime!” he shouted, but Scaramouche wasn’t even moved.
“Then leave.” He heard him declare heartlessly as if it was easy.
“I don’t need you to stay with me. You’re the one who kept on sticking around somewhere you are not needed. The door had always been opened.”
Childe blinked, surprised. He already expected that he will not comfort him the least. He only wanted Scaramouche to apologize for once and realize that he hadn’t been alone the entire time—that he, Childe had always been willing to wait for him until he’s ready to take a step forward. But in the end, Scaramouche wounded him more than he braced his heart for. Childe gripped the edge of the table. His head hung low, afraid to look up. He can feel his eyes sting and he just wants to disappear for crying over something like this. But if he runs now, then he wouldn’t get another chance to convey all that he’s feeling. If he leaves now, he will regret it for the rest of his life.
“I wanted to help you move on from everything that ails you.” He started, as he turned around to face Scaramouche who was taken aback at the sight of his eyes.
Childe never cried in front of him.
During the years of them together, the only expression that he displayed before him was glee. Childe didn’t want to add to Scaramouche’s emotional burden, but looking at it now, he was too arrogant. He wasn’t important to Scaramouche to begin with. Even if he shed blood then, he doubts that the latter would feel any kind of sympathy for him.
“For years, I have done my best to accommodate you and your heartbreak. I have given you space, I have given you time. I have given you everything! Because I know that you needed that.” Childe lamented, as he cupped Scaramouche’s cheeks with so much affection, yet he looked absolutely devastated.
“I understand there is a limit to what I can do for you. I love you enough to accept that, but God, Kuni. Would it kill you to look at me for once?” he begged but his pleas fall on deaf ears. They stood there in silence for God knows how long until Childe decided to separate himself from him and took the keys from the stand. He needs to unwind. Otherwise, he’ll go mad with grief.
Opening the doors of their apartment, Childe halted for a moment.
“I wonder. Since you love the dead so much, will you also learn to adore me the way you cherish him if I’m gone?” he randomly asked, then left right after without waiting for an answer.
-
Scaramouche was stunned. The sound of the door closing made him run after Childe, trepidation building up inside him as a familiar sense of loss crept on his veins making him trip before he could even reach the door. Scaramouche is terrified. Childe declaring his death as if it was not a big deal made him feel the same fear of losing someone he loved.
Frantic, Scaramouche ran outside disheveled and barefooted, but the car was already gone. He knows it in his heart that Childe isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t commit to something out of impulse. Even so, Scaramouche still fears. So, without missing a beat, he dialed his number. He doesn’t care if its out of his character to suddenly call him after picking a fight. He needs to know that Childe is breathing just fine.
After a few rings, Tartaglia picked up.
“What do you wa—”
“Where are you?” the urgency in his voice wasn’t hidden. Scaramouche can hear Childe sigh on the other line before answering. “I need time for myself. I’ll come back so…”
Scaramouche cut Childe once more, “No. Come back now.” He demanded which made the other line become dead silent.
“I SAID COME BACK THIS INSTANT! TURN THE DAMN CAR AROUND BEFORE I GO TO WHEREVER THE FUCK YOU ARE AND DO IT MYSELF!” Scaramouche screamed, exasperated.
However, Childe only huffed in stress before answering back. “I am not your slave, Mochi. Just give me this one, okay? I just need time to think for myself, please.” Childe replied, sounding exhausted. However, the hammering in Scaramouche’s heart did not stop. Similar to the day he received the news of Niwa’s death, today, the same feeling crept up to his neck.
“Cut the crap. Come back here now or do not appear before me agai—”
Scaramouche did not manage to finish his threat. The screeching of tires and the loud background noise was the only thing that he needed to assess the situation. Running back inside their apartment, Scaramouche grabbed his own keys and hastily opened his GPS while screaming bloody murder for Childe’s name whose line was filled with nothing but static.
“Childe? CHILDE?” he shouted but nobody was responding on the other line. “AJAX?! ANSWER THE PHONE AJAX!” He screamed desperately as he tried to insert the key to his car but it’s not working, which added to his frustration.
“Useless! Piece! Of! Garbage!” Scaramouche cursed as he walked out of the garage and hailed a cab instead. He’ll deal with that car later once he’s certain that Ajax is safe.
-
Childe felt dizzy as blood oozes from his forehead. He was about to make a turn when a crazy police car and a black van made a mess of the traffic, which led him to a minor accident. He immediately searched his car for his phone, but he found the poor thing cracked on the concrete along with the glasses of his shattered window.
“At least come with us to the emergency room. We need to check your wound to see if you’re not on the risk of infection.”
The ambulance was quick to come, and Childe was dragged to a nearby hospital. He can just show Scaramouche his wound so that the latter wouldn’t chew him out for not coming back. After all, it was not exactly his fault but the police. Childe was about to return when he and his precious Lambo was caught in between a cat and mouse chase.
Still, maybe getting on an accident was also good. He’s alone right now and he has time to mull over his problems without worry since his phone also died. Scaramouche wouldn’t be able to reach him but that’s also fine. He can just show him his wounds and medical records.
With that in mind, Childe decided to stay in the hospital and be confined for a few days just to get away and clear his head.
-
“He might have hit his head too hard. I apologize but there is no guarantee that his memory will return to the way it used to be.” Childe grimaced at Dottore’s bad acting. But he can’t exactly blame him when he was the one who started this. After all, how can he break it to Scaramouche that he was only lazing around the private ward to unwind when the latter arrived panicked and scared.
Childe was accustomed to seeing Scaramouche’s neat and elegant fashion but when he arrived at the hospital, he was barefooted and he’s still in his robe and pajamas. If he tells him that he’s fine and is not really injured, he’s certain that Scaramouche will give him a new reason to stay at the hospital longer. So, faced with this dilemma, Childe feigned amnesia.
“Who are you?”
Scaramouche arrived at the emergency room looking like garbage. However, he doesn’t have enough time to worry about his appearance when every patient that he comes across had their clothes bloody from the accident. He saw the headlights of Childe’s car in tatters along with the shattered window and flattened hood. He can almost feel his knees give out before he arrived at Childe’s assigned room. But relief washed over him when he only saw his forehead bandaged. He approached them foolishly relieved, not knowing the real tragedy that awaits him.
“Who are you? Do I know you?”
“He might have hit his head too hard. I apologize but there is no guarantee that his memory will return to the way it used to be.”
Scaramouche ran his finger through his hair harshly in distress. He’s currently sitting beside the sleeping Childe who looked peaceful in his rest. He doesn’t know what to feel or do. He’s relieved that he’s alive, but his sudden loss of memory made Scaramouche’s heart clench.
However, isn’t this a good thing? Didn’t he always wanted to rid of him? If so, isn’t this the optimal situation? What more could Scaramouche possibly ask for? If he leaves him now, he could spare Childe the misery of their parting. But what about him?
Wait.
What about him?!
Why should Scaramouche matter? Did he just shamelessly ask himself that? Of course, he’ll be left alone. Childe will be happier with someone and Scaramouche, he will be forgotten. Just like how he wanted it. He will severe all connections that he had with him, and Childe can start anew once more, and Scaramouche will be left all alone in his hell hole.
It’s the perfect sequence of event so why… Why does his heart ache at the thought of Ajax caring for someone who is not him? Why does it pained him that Childe’s smile will no longer be dedicated for him?
-
Childe looked gloomily at the cackling doctor in front of him. Today is the day for his discharge. He was confined for a week and not even once did Scaramouche visited him! He only saw him once and after that, the shorty disappeared and never came back again. He knows that he barely cares about his well-being but isn’t this too much? Did Scaramouche assumed that since he’s amnesiac, he can finally leave Childe and be miserable on his own?
“Tartaglia, I don’t know what kind of love potion he made you drink but if you ever change your mind, contact Rosalyne. She said she can hook you up with the best boys and girls in town once you wake up from your delusions that, that heartless little man will love you in this lifetime.”
Childe only scoffed and went home. His situation isn’t exactly a secret to his previous college mates. However, his private life is his. It is none of their concern.
Arriving at their shared home, Childe expected Scaramouche to be not around. However, the lights to the living room are on and the television has a tutorial on how to fix a broken camera in it. And on the sofa, a sleeping Scaramouche lie on his back uncomfortably. Noticing this at one glance, Childe carried the sleeping man to their bed. Scaramouche shifted on his sleep. On the other hand, Childe can only stare at the figure before him with longing. How can he ever hold anything against him when he’s this in beholden by him?
“I love you so much, Mochi.” He whispered, kissing his forehead lightly and heading out of the room to clean their messy home.
-
Scaramouche woke up comfortably on their bed. He hasn’t slept this good for the past few days due to the absence of a certain someone. But how did he sleep in their room when he remembers passing out on the living room? Did he crawl his way in? Never mind that. He still needs to fix the damn camera that was ruined by the repair shop even more before Childe arrives at night. The saved pictures on the camera’s memory are the only thing that he has left as proof of their relationship. If he loses it, then there’s no way for him to prove his connection with him. He will fix that camera himself and show it to Childe. He will not lose him. Not in this life. He knows that its selfish of him to try and cage him in this loveless relationship, but Scaramouche promised himself to do better. He only needs a chance.
-
“Where is it?”
Scaramouche turned the drawers over and ransacked the whole house. He just slept! Was the house robbed while he was sleeping? If so, why did the cursed thief only took the camera that he was trying to fix? They can take anything in this house except for that one device!
“What are you doing, Mochi?” Childe was quick to shut his mouth. He just called him familiarly! Is his mouth trying to dig his own grave? He scolded himself internally, but it seems that Scaramouche couldn’t even care less about him.
“Did you see a camera here?’ Scaramouche’s hands slammed the coffee table, indicating the place where he last placed the camera. However, unfortunately for him, Childe already disposed of all the trash (including the camera and its parts) when he cleaned this morning. He only went out to do some grocery shopping, but he comes back to this mess just because of an old battered device? Was it another gift of that dead man? If that’s the case, then good riddance!
“I threw it.” He answered nonchalantly and Scaramouche was quick to bolt out of their house. Childe can guess that he will comb through the garbage outside their home if he doesn’t stop him, so he did the most logical thing and caught Scaramouche by the arm before he could even take another step outside.
“The garbage truck already took it. You’ll find nothing even If turn every trash can in here upside down.”
-
“Why did you throw it?! Are you an idiot? How can you throw it?!”
Scaramouche is in a state of despair. For a week, he had been trying to fix that camera and he was so close to fixing it before he fell asleep. But now, everything ended up in vain. He had no way of restoring Childe’s memory now.
“It’s just an old camera. I can give you twelve of those if you want. It’s not like its anything significant.” Childe commented, sounding annoyed. And of course, his tone did not go unnoticed by Scaramouche who stormed inside the house without another word. Childe wearily followed him. Scaramouche can only sit helplessly in the couch, his head hung low while his bangs hid his eyes.
Days ago, Scaramouche searched their entire house for things that can help Childe jog his memory back to life. They’ve been together for years so there must at least be something that’s significant enough to prove their bond. However, despite his search inside their bedroom to the basement, to every corner of their house, the only thing that he found was Childe’s gifts to him every month. Every year. And during his birthday that was always celebrated by the ginger who valued him so much. Childe’s affection was already evident even without these material things. Only now as well, did he realize, that he never really gave him anything. Scaramouche never gave Childe a gift. There’s also no picture of them on his phone—no memories at all.
“I don’t really deserve you, huh.” He murmured on his own, while talking to a narwhal plushie that was gifted to him by Tartaglia last year for their monthsary.
That silly man loves celebrating everything and he only realized by now that he was always the one to ruin it. Scaramouche was about to give up his search, until he stumbled across a black box underneath their bed. When he opened it, he was greeted by an old Nikon 2000. Scaramouche remembers this. The camera was one of Childe’s first gifts to him when he started working for the organization that he’s currently in. Scaramouche remembers being enchanted with it the first time he saw it, so he went around with Childe for the first time and took random pictures everywhere. And now, he can use it to bring him back around! But then, the camera won’t open. So, he did the next best thing and visited a repair shop but before he knew it, he’s already cursing at the top of his lungs.
“Useless idiots! If you can’t even fix one device, then you shouldn’t be running your business!” he criticized and eventually went home. After that, he decided to fix it on his own but now that Childe threw it somewhere he doesn’t know, Scaramouche lost all hope that he built up on his own.
“I’m sorry its my bad. I’ll find one with the same model. Please don’t be angr—?” Childe knelt in front of Scaramouche. He didn’t know that it was that important. He threw it because it looked old but he should have realized sooner that Scaramouche wouldn’t be watching tutorials if it wasn’t so important. It was his mistake, he knows. That’s why, he wanted to apologize but the moment he touched his shoulder, Scaramouche was trembling.
“Hey, Mochi? Are you alright? I’m sorry, okay? I’ll find the truck that took it and” When Scaramouche raised his head, Childe was even more flabbergasted.
Scaramouche is crying.
Panicked, Childe tried his best to wipe every tear that escapes the latter’s eyes. However, despite his efforts, Scaramouche’s tears continued to roll down.
“How can you still be so kind? Do you treat every crying man you meet like this?”
Childe frowned. He doesn’t understand where he’s coming from. Scaramouche was the only person he treats with gentleness. Even his subordinates can attest to that statement.
“You don’t even remember me and now that the camera’s gone, you’ll never know me! You’ll just treat me like any guy on streets! I hate you! I hate this!”
Scaramouche is throwing yet another tantrum. It’s a rare occurrence these days but it still happens whenever the latter would reach the breaking point of his system; Scaramouche would always end up in this state. However, this time he ended up saying some pretty amusing statements for Childe to hear.
“What kind of cute things are you saying? I’ll never forget you even if my life depends on it.”