Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Okay, let’s take it from the top.”

Taking up far too much space in the already cramped storage room was a large pinboard that, up until ten minutes prior, had been covered in dozens of photos, scraps of notes, and scribbled diagrams. Now all of it had been laid out on a cluttered table, haphazardly sorted into loose piles that only made sense to the man in front of them.

Shikanoin Heizou, the famous ace detective of the Tenryou Commission paced along the length of the table, hand pressed to his chin as he expertly took in all the details. He was the brightest of the force, capable of solving years old cases with near nothing to go on. With his sharp eyes and a sharper mind he could no doubt take any amount of evidence, however small, and fit it neatly into the massive jigsaw puzzle that was the truth.

Or at least that was the narrative circling his head as he stared down the mountain of potential clues he’d collected over the course of the two months since he’d taken the case. In reality, Heizou had already pulled everything off the wall twice that day, re-sorted all the miscellany with a new set of vague criteria, and began running through his findings again one by one. Review the clue, pin it in place. Then the next, pin it nearby. Connect with red string to make it obvious their relation. Then onto the next, and the next, and the next—

“Shikanoin, shouldn’t you consider taking a break?”

Heizou was ruffling through a pile of photographs he’d acquired; snapshots of remote villages, civilians, scenery, all noted with their location, date, time, weather, who was nearby, and most importantly, the proximity to the victim. All important pieces in their own right, but their order and relevance was yet unknown.

It was that unknown he needed to find.

He began laying the photos out across the table alongside scratch paper covered in notes and scribbles in reds and blacks. Heizou stared at them for a long moment, hand to his chin, mumbling a theory to himself. Then he snatched one of the photos and climbed onto the table.

“S-Shikanoin…”

“Hm? Yes, Aoyama?”

Heizou didn’t look his way when he answered, instead he plucked a couple of tacks from the board and a length of red string from his pocket. The photo of a smiling little girl in pink and white yukata stared back at him. The first victim, missing 6 months.

“I said you should take a break.”

“Nope! I’m actually doing pretty good, but thanks!”

The other officer let out an exasperated sigh. Aoyama was new to their station. Early twenties. Tall, wiry, could probably do with a few extra meals. Nervous disposition, fidgeted with his lapel badge when he thought no one was looking. Only recently moved to the city proper… In a blink Heizou had this man’s entire profile drawn up in his mind, then filed it away as something inconsequential to his current task. What was relevant was that there was not enough space in his makeshift “office” for the man to be hovering so close while he worked.

“B-but you’ve been at this all morning. We’re late for patrols, aren’t we?”

Heizou grimaced. Man alive, this again?

From atop the table he turned to face the officer, arms crossed over his chest and an absolutely sour look leveled the younger man’s way, “Seriously, Aoyama. What we’re doing here takes precedence. We haven’t had any proper traction on this case in nearly a month! At this rate, we’re running the risk of losing the trail entirely.” it was clear in his tone how frustrated he was. Heizou wasn’t exactly used to not having the answers to a case after that long. The utter lack of tangible leads and unreliable testimonies were not helping.

He turned back to the board and rifled through more notes, pulling out another photograph, this time of a young boy with a bright smile despite the missing front tooth. The second victim, missing 5 months.

Aoyama—apparently braver than Heizou first deduced—pressed on, “But isn’t it important to do your duty around the city, still? This is not the only case that requires our attention…”

He had to admit, Aoyama was right. There were other cases, other crimes to prevent, criminals to catch or convince to change their ways. But Heizou was 97% sure that none were as imperative as the ones in front of him at that moment, else he’d already be out the door and on his way.

Perhaps Aoyama just didn’t understand that.

Most of the doushin didn’t understand, and that was why it was so difficult to get anyone to work with him. It was a wonder that Aoyama had stuck around for so long. The man had lasted nearly a month of Heizou dodging patrols, disappearing mid-shift to chase a lead, or just holing himself up among the files at the station until A) he’d hit a hard enough wall that actual sleep was needed to overcome the logical hurdle, B) they’d run out of the passable coffee or cafeteria food, meaning he needed to find viable fuel for his brain elsewhere, or C) Madam Kujou herself had caught wind of his behavior and ordered him to leave.

Said order was usually delivered loudly and acted upon swiftly, with a bonus lecture if he’d been a particularly bothersome thorn in her side that week. She was a woman of action, after all, and probably the only person on the force that Heizou would actually obey. He’d insist this was due to the respect he held for the woman because of her capabilities as a leader and fellow officer, and not any previous demonstrations of her ability to escort him off the premises. Forcibly and bodily. Her physical prowess was not limited to her skills with a bow and, as it turns out, detectives made impressive projectiles when thrown. Especially the genius ones.

His situation had yet to come to that, or perhaps Madam Kujou was also feeling the strain of that ever ticking clock that hung over the pile of evidence that was now half-pinned to the board again.

Heizou sighed. He could afford to cut the rookie some slack, right? He’d wished the others had done the same for him back when he first started, though their situations differed. Heizou busted in and shook up the place, and Aoyama was…well…Heizou tried to keep his tone light, cheerful, even, just to reassure the jittery man a bit. Even if he was just trying to convince Aoyama to leave him be, Heizou was still his senior. And by how on edge he always was while on duty, Aoyama could probably use a friendly mentor.

Heizou hopped off the table and faced the younger doushin, “Hey, I know Owada basically dropped me in your lap and bolted, but you don’t actually have to babysit me.” He gave a nonchalant grin and a dismissive wave of his hand, “Sticking you with Shikanoin Duty is essentially their idea of hazing the rookie. No one is going to reprimand you for not making me ‘behave’ or anything.” He gestured the quotes with his fingers, then shrugged. “You’re not required to skimp on your duties just because I have my priorities elsewhere. So go ahead and start patrol. I’ll keep working on this.” With that, Heizou turned back around and continued running string between the tacks.

There was still some tension in Aoyama’s voice when he spoke again. Unease, even. “You say that but…if even you haven’t found a lead after this long…isn’t it a lost cause?”

Heizou flinched and the room fell completely still. Any inkling of what could be a warm and fuzzy sempai-kouhai bonding moment disappeared with that single phrase.

“A lost cause, huh.” Heizou said quietly, tone low and flat. He’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t been mingling at the back of his mind. Any lead he’d come up with thus far had fallen through somehow. Shaky testimonies, misplaced evidence, false reports. Setbacks, each one more frustrating than the last, sucking the hope from the families and the confidence in himself.

Heizou hadn’t noticed his clenched fists until he sensed Aoyama shifting uncomfortably behind him. Only then did he consciously relax his hands, but the tension in the air only seemed to increase.

“Tell that to the Umeharas.” Another photograph was tacked onto the board with much more force than necessary. This one was of a pair of young girls, both smiling brightly at the kamera. The third victim, missing 4 months, and the fourth victim, remains located just two days prior.

Heizou had been present when the family was brought in to identify what parts of her body they’d managed to uncover.

They identified her by the birthmark on her left hip. There wasn’t enough of her to confirm anything further.

Whether it was Heizou’s tone, the tension, or fear of being struck, Aoyama finally seemed convinced. Heizou didn’t need to look at him to know the man was bowing his head in shame. “I apologize. I will…uh…I’ll go start our—my patrol.” He wanted to say something else, Heizou could tell, but his words were just as hesitant as his steps as he backed away from the detective. There was a sense of fear there; Heizou couldn’t quite figure out why. Surely not of him?

Heizou sighed and allowed his shoulders to sag a little before facing the fleeing man once more, “Hey, once you’re done with patrol, let’s get something to eat! My treat.” The cheerful smile and the upbeat, self-assured demeanor was back in place. He hoped it’d be enough to ease the tension. The last thing Heizou wanted was another colleague that couldn’t stand his presence.

Aoyama blinked, taken aback by the offer, but said nothing further. All Heizou got in return was a nervous yet genuine smile and a quick bow before he swiftly exited the detective’s makeshift office.

The chipper smile slipped away and once again it was just Heizou and his disjointed clue board left behind. Heizou waited until he could no longer hear Aoyama’s footsteps to let the facade slip away. Slowly he turned to face the disjointed collage of information and its frustrating amount of loose strings of red.

A lost cause. The phrase continued to bounce around his skull and Heizou felt the urge to take his frustration out on the wall next to him. But the prospect of redoing the board a fourth time in his current state of mind would only make him feel worse. Instead he drew a slow breath and stepped back to take another look at the web of information.

I know there’s more to this.

Heizou quickly glanced over his shoulder to assure Aoyama had truly left. Now alone, he dug through the collection of file folders and loose papers on the table, eventually pulling a book free from the pile. A detective novel, lovingly worn and read dozens of times. When he was a child he’d have to sneak away to read it so his father wouldn’t catch him fantasizing about walking in the protagonist’s footsteps. Not like it did anything to stop him, rebellious and headstrong as he was.

The memory brought a fond smile to his face, small but so fleeting, as with so many before it.

Heizou turned the book for-edge up and tugged a folded piece of parchment from between the pages. A letter found wedged in the jamb of his front door seven days prior, addressed to Detective Shikanoin. He pressed the paper against the board and smoothed the folds out as best he could before pinning it among the rest of the evidence.

For a long moment Heizou stared at it, face expressionless, body still but mind racing. An anonymous note on plain parchment with no discernable markings as to its make or manufacturer. And on it, written in an ink an unsettling shade of ruddy brown:

TREAD CAREFULLY, LITTLE DEER

“There’s more to this.” he muttered as he pulled the string hanging from each of the victims’ photos and wrapped the loose ends around the tack holding the letter in place. “And I’m gonna find out what it is.”

The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon when Heizou finally emerged from his office. It was the end of his shift and even though he was good to continue the case analysis, he’d offered to treat Aoyama to dinner when he returned from his patrol. It wasn’t often that Heizou asked anyone to join him for anything, let alone a colleague.

It was just one of those things; the genius detective of the Tenryou Commission garnered a certain reputation, as did any doushin. It was no secret that Heizou was exceptionally good at his job, even if his methods could be rather unorthodox. Or risky. Or downright half-boiled, if Madam Kujou had anything to say about them. Opinions of his skill and work ethic were divided which often led to situations that weren’t exactly conducive to a positive work environment.

For those reasons he tended to work alone.

It was better that way.

But it would be nice to have at least one person around that would be willing to be in his vicinity for longer than five minutes without nitpicking something inane like how he wore his uniform “incorrectly” or the backlog of paperwork collecting dust on his desk. And Aoyama had seemed sincere and from what Heizou observed thus far, had a genuine desire to do good and improve the lives of others. Perhaps not the brightest light in the harbor, but genuine nevertheless. Heizou had to wonder if he was some distant relative of Ryuuji in that regard.

With a sigh Heizou rounded his actual assigned desk and flopped into the chair. The stack of dusty documents on the corner were ignored as he leaned back with hands behind his head and feet propped on the old wood.

“Shikanoin? Interesting seeing you at your desk for once.” Another doushin called from his place at his own desk, “Did you get tired of your craft project?”

Heizou tensed, a knee jerk reaction. He was glad that the station was mostly empty that time of day; the glare on his face could earn him a life sentence for manslaughter. Not worth it, Shikanoin.

Slow breath in, then out. Relax his jaw and plaster the confident grin back in place. Only then did he face the other man.

The first realization was that he didn’t immediately recognize him. Another new recruit? No, if that were the case, he would not be aware of my reputation. Keen eyes scanned the doushin’s appearance. He was older, perhaps a good decade over Heizou. His uniform was clean and pressed, but had definitely seen some time out in the sun, and the color of his standard issued haori didn’t match the rest of his uniform. Could be a recently reassigned guard. There’s been several personnel shifts since the incident at Tenshukaku. It’s why everyone at the station suddenly has such a sour view of me, I’m sure.

With that in mind, Heizou determined the man to be an asshole and not a threat. “Not tired, just satisfied with the arrangement. I’ll give it fresh eyes in the morning.” he kept his voice light and level, even if he wanted to counter the man’s jabs with jabs of his own. Still, it irked him that someone was referring to his organization of important clues and evidence for an ongoing serial-kidnapping-now-murder case as a mere craft project. Did he not know about the missing children? Or the fate of the Umeharas’ youngest child just days before?

No, it was impossible to be at the station and not know. The man must’ve been completely ignorant or just plain heartless. Or both.

Heizou didn’t want that line of conversation to continue, else he really would give the guy a jab. A hard one. To the face. “When’s Aoyama gettin’ back? Shift change should be soon.”

“Aoyama?” The man scoffed, “He left an hour ago.”

“Huh?” Heizou sat up proper in his chair, very nearly knocking the documents off his desk, “But we were—”

The doushin shrugged, “Got back, filled in his report, and said he was going home.”

He just— A quick glance at the clock on the wall proved that Heizou had actually come out in time for shift change, but Aoyama had left early?

Heizou couldn’t help the sag of his shoulders. Even after extending that olive branch, Aoyama had still bolted before Heizou could make up for his attitude earlier in the day. He hadn’t even lasted a week. It’d be almost comical if it wasn’t so depressing.

At least I can say the station’s overall opinion of me is consistent. Heizou sighed and stretched his arms over his head, “Well, more tempura for me, I guess.” It was hard to hide the bitterness in his tone. He imagined he’d come back in the morning to hear Aoyama had requested a reassignment and Heizou was on his own again. Then he’d get an earful from Madam Kujou about the importance of teamwork and having confidence in his fellow doushin. Or worse, she’d just hand him his paperwork for the day with that piteous look on her face and walk away without a word. As though she felt sorry for him because he was back to flying solo.

But it’s okay.

He’s okay.

It’s better this way.

Heizou would keep telling himself that.

At least the fried food would wait for him.

“Maybe I should talk to the families again.”

Seated at the counter with a glass of barley tea and his trusty notebook, Heizou continued poring over the many notes he’d made during the course of his investigation. They were even more abstract than what was populating his pinboard; scribbled words and arrows connecting phrases and doodles together in a cloud that would make any onlooker’s eyes cross with confusion. But they made sense to him and that was all that mattered.

He turned to the next page where he had a sketched layout of the property where the second victim lived. Arrows and circles marked points of interest that would merit a second lookover for leads. He hadn’t been officially on the case at the time so the initial sweep was done by another doushin with what material they found relevant being handed to Heizou after the fact. If I’d known it was going to be such a difficult case to crack, I would have combed the place completely a second time. Heizou flipped to another page and checked a chart of dates, times, and moon phases. Straws to be grasped at. There has to be something we missed. I should ask Madam Kujou about a trip to Yashiori to investigate… “Hmm…but the rain…”

“What was that?” Shimura called from the stove, “Did you say it was going to rain?”

“No—wait.” Heizou leaned back on his stool and glanced up at the sky. Thick clouds were rolling along the horizon to the west, blanketing the setting sun. “Actually, yeah, probably.”

Shimura didn’t question his judgment. He merely groused about certain establishments having the benefit of four solid walls before going back to the stove.

Heizou sighed and once again thumbed through his notebook in search of anything that seemed out of place in all of the scribbles. At the rate he was going, he’d need a new book altogether before the case was closed. And all for evidence he can’t seem to link up. Hm…Would it be wiser to just do another interview? If I’m not able to find anything of substance…

A dried leaf slid from between the scribble-filled pages and onto the counter. Heizou plucked it up before the wind could catch it and held it delicately in front of his face. To anyone else it looked like just an ordinary leaf you’d find virtually anywhere in Inazuma. And they were right, for the most part. But to Heizou, it held another meaning. One far more personal.

They reminded him of Kaedehara Kazuha.

The reason for the association would be obvious upon glance of the man’s name, and his attunement to the natural world around him only strengthened the connection.

So when Heizou was off-handedly presented with a single maple leaf as they said their final farewells at the docks…well, the sentiment of that association stuck. And so he’d pressed the leaf between the pages of his trusty notebook as a reminder that the enigmatic Kaedehara Kazuha existed and wasn’t just a spectacle on the steps of Tenshukaku. He was human, and one of the scant few people Heizou could call a friend.

It’d been nearly six months since Kazuha had left Inazuma.

It’s a shame. If he were here, I could drag him along to these crime scenes so he could help look for leads. He probably could have unearthed a mountain of clues from all this.

For a brief moment, Heizou considered sending a letter to ask for his aid. But where would he even send it to? One couldn’t just address a letter to The Crux Fleet and expect it to arrive at its destination. Hell, knowing Kazuha, he might not even be on board anymore.

Heizou huffed. He’s doing what he loves most, and I’m doing what I love most. We’re pursuing our individual passions and that’s how it should be.

He told himself that, but damned if his chest didn’t ache a bit when he thought about how Kazuha had zero reason to return to Inazuma. Heizou sighed, I should unpack that, but I’ve got better things to do. The leaf was carefully slid between the back pages of his notebook for safe-keeping. A nice memory.

It’s better this way.

“Here you go!”

A basket of fresh tempura was placed in front of Heizou alongside a hot bowl of miso and some rice. Heizou very nearly giggled with delight. If there was anything that could instantly lift his spirits, it was some fresh fried food. His eyes were practically sparkling as he thanked Shimura for the meal.

Heizou would note that, once again, Shimura had placed twice the usual portion of fried shrimp on his plate. Ever since Heizou had caught the burglar that ransacked the restaurant last spring, Shimura had greeted him with a smile and an extra helping of whatever it was he ordered that day. Heizou had tried to refuse out of principle, but relented when the man all but forced it onto his plate. “I have nothing but this restaurant. Were it not for you, I’d have nothing at all. Allow me to give my thanks how I can!”

Heizou wasn’t sure if gratitude could make food taste better, but he always made sure to savor that extra piece. A reminder that his work was still appreciated, however dirty it could get.

The notebook was tucked away to prevent any errant grease from smudging the ink and Heizou dug into his meal. As much as he wanted to continue his work, he had to admit it would get more difficult to concentrate on the facts before him if he didn’t have a proper meal in his belly. It was a much needed mental break from the constant concern for the missing children and the little girl they’d found days before. He tried to put it all—the missing children, the little girl they found earlier in the week—on the back burner just to rest his frazzled mind for a few minutes. Focus on the food, take a breather, then go at it refreshed and rejuvenated.

Yet in the absence of the investigation, a different issue took its place. A nagging sensation at the back of his mind kept tugging him towards the rookie Aoyama and his unusual behavior. From their previous interactions, Heizou got the impression that the man was honest and altruistic almost to a fault. But still green. He likely hadn’t seen much more action than pursuing a pickpocket or climbing a tree to rescue a cat. Which he’d done, according to his reports, without Heizou’s aid.

What stuck out was how skittish he was, as though he feared a severe reprimand should he speak up. Heizou had a reputation for being “creative” with his investigative tactics, but none of them included violence. A true detective uses his intellect and experience to bring a case to a close and Heizou did everything in his power to stick to said skills. There were the occasions where he’d been faced with a particularly trying criminal and he’d allowed his temper to color his resolve, but those were few and far between. Anything else had been self-defense.

Occasionally rumors of his martial prowess would circulate the station, but it was a toss-up if anyone actually believed them.

It wouldn’t make sense for anyone to bring that up to Aoyama either. Heizou thought, If there were going to haze him, it’d be more effective to paint me as an annoyance rather than someone to fear.

It was going to bug him until he had an answer. To find the culprit, he needed to speak with the prime witness, and that meant asking Aoyama up front if he’d been offended by Heizou’s actions and if he was comfortable with staying as his partner on the job.

He could ask him the next day, but Heizou was never good at sitting still once he had a new lead in a case.

That and…his intuition told him it’d be better to see him sooner rather than later.

“Hey, Oji-san. Mind packing up some tempura to-go?”

Aoyama’s address was in an older, less kept neighborhood at the outermost edge of Hanamizaka. It was an area of higher crime that Heizou had unfortunately become very familiar with. Between the outdated make and the lack of modern amenities, many of the homes had fallen into disrepair to the point of being condemned. Those that remained were taken up by families with lower income, a lot of which Heizou had dealings with in some capacity.

Heizou wasn’t exactly welcome in the area for this reason, but that rarely stopped him from doing anything.

As he continued towards his destination, something seemed…off. The streets were quiet, which itself was unusual. Even if it was after dark it wasn’t so late that folks would have the lamps out and the kids tucked into bed. Yet everything was quiet as though everyone had up and left for the evening, leaving the houses abandoned.

Odd, Heizou thought, clutching his peace offering of a box of fresh tempura closer to his chest. A feeling of unease bubbled in the pit of his gut, and the further down the street he went, the more it grew.

Heizou paused at the corner and took in his surroundings. Nothing looked out of place at first, but then Heizou noted the state of the house next to him. To his right, a small home he knew had a simple room intended for a bachelor or single mother. The paper covering the front door had large holes in it and some of the lattices had been snapped off. With winter coming surely the resident would have wanted it fixed right away, but the water damage on the paper showed it’d been in that state for a week minimum.

To his left, the house was in a similar state. Holes in the shoji and a long wooden board wedged in the frame corner to corner. Blocked. The same with the next, and the next, and the next…

Are all these homes…condemned? It hasn’t been that long since I was last here, has it? I’m certain the station roster listed his address on this street, but…

No sooner had Heizou turned the corner was he hit with not the familiar scent of autumn leaves and the distant promise of rain, but the unmistakable stench of copper and viscera.

His mind kicked into overdrive. Blood. There was blood nearby.

Something was wrong.

Instantly he dropped into work mode. He listened closely for any signs of struggle, any cries for help, but received only silence in return. Not an altercation in progress, but there’s definitely something injured nearby. Heizou took a few, tentative steps forward, eyes darting from roof to door to dirt path to window and back. What was different? Something out of place, something he could use as a lead. Condemned houses, an empty street, the smell of fresh blood—

Heizou's eyes locked onto the house at the end of the street. The door was wide open.

Aoyama’s door.

Something is wrong.

The box of takeout was abandoned as Heizou darted for the open door. With each step the scent of blood grew. Had he been injured on the way home? Had a nobushi assumed the house vacant only to find Aoyama inside? Had there been an altercation? Was Aoyama even home?

His mind came to a screeching halt when something splashed onto his shoe, wooden heels sinking slightly into a patch of soft earth.

It hasn’t rained yet.

Heizou’s gaze fell to his feet. A puddle of black mud, a spatter of red on his toes.

I can’t be here.

He moved on autopilot. One step after another, unsteady ground soaked in red. It was smeared across the shoji, dripped thickly off the wooden porch onto the surrounding patches of dead grass.

I need to leave.

A glint of brass discarded in the flow caught his eye. Heizou crouched to pluck it from the muck without a second thought. A familiar shape, a point of pride for himself and every officer among the commission, now scratched and smearing red on his fingertips.

Don’t look—

Beyond the threshold the meager flicker of an oil lamp illuminated the damp tatami. A glistening river tracked from Heizou’s feet into the demolished room, and among the debris lay the tributary himself, eyes wide but unseeing.

Heizou, historically, did not handle the sight of fresh corpses well. Especially ones belonging to someone he knew.

Chapter Text

Even as a doushin, it was rare for Shikanoin to be at an active murder scene. Cordoning off the area, taking first impressions, handling the body itself, all those tasks were taken care of before he arrived, if he was even brought along at all. It wasn’t that there was nothing he could discern from seeing the victim where they fell—on the contrary, there was a mountain of clues and potential leads to be found should one possess a keen eye and the proper knowledge, both of which Heizou would like to think he possessed in spades.

No, he left the staging and gathering of evidence to his superiors on the force and otherwise stood back and waited.

Why?

Heizou wasn’t good with dead bodies.

If one were to inquire about it, Heizou would shrug it off, make a joke about how it was normal for people to not want to look at a corpse. Sure, he was a doushin, but being able to handle that level of gore wasn’t a requirement, right? He was a detective. He didn’t work the field or run patrols. He wasn’t used to being first on the scene of such a violent crime. He wasn’t used to seeing such injuries. He wasn’t used to looking at a person he knew in the eyes postmortem or seeing the blood slowly seep from an obvious slash through the throat or watching it puddle into the tatami and onto his sandals and haori and when did he get on his knees and why was the room spinning— 

Get it together, Shikanoin!

Heizou remembered to breathe again and wished he hadn’t. The copper tang in the air coated his nostrils and tongue and made him want to vomit. But doing so would just make the mess worse.

Focus, he told himself. You are a doushin. The first officer on the scene of a murder. You have a job to do.

Carefully Heizou rose to his feet, doing his best to ignore the sticky warmth that dripped down his bare knees onto his shin guards. Step one, establish the immediate location of interest. With what little light the meager oil lamp provided, Heizou took in his surroundings. Small room, tatami, 6 mats, sunken kitchen to the left, disorganized, utensils out but no food, coal stove, unlit, futon in corner, sheets unkempt, table in center, broken in half—wait, broken in half?

The kotatsu had been smashed, likely from a great amount of weight or force being dropped on it. Next to it was a small shelf that had been overturned and the books tossed across the room towards an oil heater that, thankfully, hadn’t been lit. At the back, the closet had been opened with enough force to unalign the door from its tracks. The storage drawers were pulled free and dumped alongside the books. And near Heizou’s feet, a glass bowl which looked to have held a candle at some point, less than a meter from Aoyama—the body—with a large piece missing. Potentially the murder weapon.

There wasn’t just a struggle for one's life in that room, it looked like a tornado had torn through it. Such a complete ransacking of the area would make it obvious the perpetrator had been searching for something. A robbery gone wrong? Did Aoyama walk in on the perpetrator? Was he killed to cover up their identity, or to get him out of the way? Silence him? Could they have been searching for something?

…or hiding something?

Heizou crouched in front of the body— don’t look at his eyes, don’t look at his face— and examined the broken bowl. Transparent but thick, likely foreign in make. Half shattered, large chunks of clear glass missing, unaccounted for among the smaller pieces scattered across the room. Along the sharp edge of the intact side was more blood, but not splattered and splashed, but clearly a result of someone having cut their hand on it. Did the killer injure themselves?

He stood once again, The killer hadn’t planned to kill Aoyama. Heizou brought his hand to his chin but pulled it back as soon as it made contact. Right, blood. There was…a lot of blood. He felt his stomach churn and the bile rise up. He needed to not be in that room.

Slow steps, slow breaths, don’t look at your clothes, don’t look at your hands, don’t look at the body.

Heizou backed slowly towards the door, ignoring the sickening squish his wooden shoes made with each step on the tatami.

Just get outside, find a guard, tell them what you found. The doushin will come take over and you can go home—

“It’ll be okay.” he whispered to himself, as if speaking the words out loud would make them come true. Not so distant thunder rumbled overhead. A gust of wind pulled at his clothes, the tacky blood on his fingers beginning to crust together, still clutched around the soiled Tenryou badge, “Just get out of here. Get home, get changed, talk to Kujou in the morning. Don’t think about Aoyama, don’t think about—”

“Shikanoin?!”

Heizou stopped at the edge of the porch. The footfalls of several men signaled the arrival of his fellow doushin. Thank the archons, Heizou sighed with relief, backup is here. I don’t have to handle this alo—

“Stay where you are.”

There was a spear at his back.

What—

“Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly.”

Arms raised to the shoulders, he carefully turned to see six doushin in a semi-circle behind him. Three held spears mere inches from his neck, two with hands on the sheathes of their swords, and one with a thick, corded rope in his fist at the ready. Heizou recognized him as the recent transfer he’d spoken to at the end of his shift.

All at once Heizou realized the other doushin were seeing, “N-now gentlemen,—” his voice was shaky, all the anxious energy held in while he did his work bubbled to the surface and out of his mouth, “I know what this looks like, but I’ve only just arrived and found him—”

“Found him?” A doushin spearman asked, eyes wide. “Found…Isn’t this Doushin Aoyama’s house?”

“It is, and—” Heizou made to step forward so as to motion to what he’d come across and his current findings. The spear prodded his chest threateningly.

“Don’t move, we said!”

“But—” Man alive, they…surely they don’t think I…

The transferred doushin nodded to one of the swordsmen, who quickly brushed past Heizou to the door. He recoiled so hard Heizou feared he’d knock him onto one of the pikes at his chest. “Dear Celestia…What did you do to him, Shikanoin?!”

“What?” Heizou did his best not to move too much as he looked over his shoulder to see the other man’s horrified expression. “No, I only just arrived! I came to bring him dinner and—”

“The place is ransacked! And—oh…o-oh archons, he’s dead…” The doushin scuttled backwards and for a brief moment Heizou wondered if he couldn’t handle dead bodies either. Then he watched his eyes flick from Heizou’s raised hands to the open door to the blood splashed onto his feet and hakama to Heizou’s face. The gears were turning and not in a way Heizou would have liked.

“Shikanoin, you…”

Heizou shook his head, “No! His door was open when I arrived and I…I just found him like this!”

All eyes were on him. An officer dead in his home and a detective suspiciously present and covered in gore. Nothing about this looks good.

“Got in your way, did he?”

Heizou tensed, “ What? What do you mean—”

The transferred doushin crossed his arms, rope still in hand, “You been actin’ weird since Aoyama got partnered up with ya.” he leveled a glare at Heizou. “And ya chased him outta your office when he started askin’ about your craft project—”

His anger flared at that. “It’s not a craft project! ” Heizou spat. Did this man truly not see the value in his work? Just how much of a heartless asshole was this guy?! “It’s important evidence! Without it the investigation will remain at a stalemate!”

“S’that why you kept taking it all down and movin’ it around? Didn’t want Aoyama seein’ too much?”

“Huh?! No! That’s just part of the process! It helps to…” Heizou trailed off as he realized what the man was implying. His own blood ran cold. “No, I…You can’t possibly believe I did this to him?!”

As he spoke, the other doushin started mumbling amongst themselves, their voices disbelieving, fearful, and quickly evolving into disdain. “Is he actually capable—” “—more on edge recently—” “—torn apart like that? That vision—” “—all that blood—” “Aoyama didn’t deserve that—”

No, no, it’s nothing like that! Damn it, I need to derail this train of thought!

“Look!” He lowered one arm to point at the box of tempura abandoned down the street, “I came to bring him dinner as an apology for sending him on patrol alone!” he shook his head, “Please, I only examined the scene. It looks like a burglary gone awry. It couldn’t have been more than one or two hours ago. If we hurry we could probably find the culprit nearby!”

“Oh, I think you led us to the culprit already.”

Heizou froze. He knew exactly what the man was referring to. The blood soaking his clothing, caked onto his fingers and toes, Aoyama’s badge in hand. His stomach turned, his breath coming in shorter and shorter with each passing moment despite his efforts to keep his cool.

This can’t be happening.

The other doushin converged on him, crossing their spears behind him. They stared him down, eyes fiery with emotion, some the need for justice for one of their own, others with the mounting betrayal of someone they admired doing the worst thing imaginable.

And at the center was the transferred doushin, emotionless, a barely concealed grin on his face. “Detective Shikanoin Heizou, you are under arrest for the murder of your fellow doushin Aoyama Tsuneo.”

No… Heizou’s wrist was grabbed and roughly wrenched behind his back. These men had pegged him as guilty without so much as listening to a proper testimony, or even examining the scene. They weren’t going to let him establish an alibi or pull anyone else into the investigation. He wasn’t just being accused, they had outright affirmed he murdered a fellow officer.

He struggled out of instinct, fear overtaking whatever rationale he had left. “H-hey, there’s a due process to follow here! Let me—let me go! ” If it was any other group trying to capture him, he’d have no qualms in fighting them off. He could take him, Heizou knew he could. But these were his fellow officers, his colleagues, and this was all a big misunderstanding, right?

Heizou knocked the spears away with his free arm and pushed at the other doushin as gently but firmly as he could. He just had to get away. Find Madam Kujou or Owada or someone with a level enough head to point out the obvious holes in the other officer’s accusations. Emotions were running high and they all needed to just step back and—

A strong arm roughly wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him upwards into a chokehold against the doushin’s chest. Heizou struggled against the hold, kicking at the air, clawing at the man’s arm to force him to let go or at least allow him to breathe. Yet all he managed was to smear blood on the man’s sleeve and his own face.

It was all in vain. “Are we gonna have to add resisting arrest to your charges too?” the man mocked and squeezed tighter. Heizou could feel tears prick at the corner of his eyes and the world around him started gray at the edges. No! Just, listen to me! Please! The strength dwindled in his legs with each passing second. All he could do was desperately clutch the fabric of the man’s faded uniform. No…No, no, no, stay awake! Don’t…I have to…!

The man’s voice was a haughty purr to even his dulling senses. He chuckled, breath sticky and foul against his cheek,

“We warned you, little deer.”

Realization stole what was left of his breath and replaced it with pure shock and fear. His eyes snapped open, his struggling ceased as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

The letter on his clue board. The vague threat. The mocking of his work. The accusation that Aoyama was in his way.

It all came together; connected by red string.

I’ve been set up.

It hit him like a microburst; swift and thick and hot, displacing everything in its path. Suddenly Heizou was on the ground clutching his throat and coughing as the air returned to his lungs. The doushin around him had been laid out on their backs, blown away by the burst of anemo energy. Heizou hadn’t intended to use his vision against them; it’d been instinct, his subconscious forcing him to act when his mind was too stunned to do anything.

The world came back into focus and with it the dread of the reality he currently faced. What had transpired over the course of the evening had been orchestrated for some reason and Heizou had wound up in the center of it. Whatever their intentions were, he couldn’t stick around to ask about any of it. Evaluation and intuition be damned, neither were going to save him as things stood.

He needed help.

Heizou bolted past the disoriented officers and towards the city. The Police Station. I need to find someone who will listen to me. Owada or Uesugi or someone I can trust. There has to be someone who will listen to reason!

That was the qualifier; there were so many new faces among the force that he didn’t know who would vouch for his character or who would be swayed by the new faces and bold claims. Or how many are in cahoots with that transfer guy…

Heizou weaved through yards and back alleys, taking all the shortcuts he knew even if they would warrant complaint. He’d apologize later if needed.

Okay, establishing alibi. I checked out at the station, signed my name, but the only one who saw me was that transfer guy and he clearly isn’t going to help my case. But I was at Shimura’s for a while, and there’s the time it takes to walk to Aoyama’s place after…

He drew on the power of his vision, concentrating anemo energy around his legs to propel his steps. The faster he got to the station, the sooner he could clear his name.

Oh, right, I can go faster than a normal person. Damn it, that’s going to screw up my alibi!

Panic started to settle into his chest again. It’d be so easy for them to lean into him having a vision to back their claims. The state of Aoyama’s place too; the way it’d been ransacked could easily be attributed to someone using a vision in the assault.

He needed something else. Something concrete that he could present to his superiors that would cast enough doubt on Transfer Guy’s claims to keep him out of a cell.

“We warned you, little deer.”

That’s it!

With renewed vigor, Heizou picked up the pace. My clue board. The letter. I have to show them the letter!

Heizou vaulted off a retainer wall and onto the roof of a neighboring house. Fewer obstacles, open skies, even if they were rapidly darkening with storm clouds and—

Heizou skidded to a halt.

Smoke, thick and black and laced with flames, rising up from a point at the far side of the city. Dread crawled up his spine when he realized just where it was coming from.

The station…!

He took off again, leaping from roof to roof, the clamor of panicked cries and shouted orders growing louder and mixing with the alarm bells sounding at the fire brigade’s headquarters and his own head. On the street below people were running back and forth with buckets in hand, fighting the flames one measly splash of water at a time. Heizou wished the one Hydro vision user on the brigade had stayed after the ban was lifted, but not everyone was so dedicated to the cause of protecting the city that they’d ignore how it tried to destroy them.

Heizou had to wonder what he’d do in such a situation.

He feared he wouldn’t be wondering long.

Heizou jumped from a nearby roof into the yard of the station. The prisoners who were being held in the cells beneath the building had been evacuated and some were even helping to fight the flames. That much was a relief; Heizou’s vision was useless when it came to fire, but it seemed the local gang leader’s geo vision was more than making up for it. Heizou scanned the crowd for a friendly face, finally spotting one directing a group of doushin near the back of the building.

“Owada!”

The man whipped around at the familiar voice and looked visibly relieved for a split second before concern set in, “Shikanoin? Where—What happened to you?” Heizou could practically feel the man’s gaze on the blood soaked into his clothing and caked onto his skin. Fuck, should have stopped to wash some of this off. Really not looking good, Shikanoin.

Focus!!

“We have a situation—”

“Well aware of that! Hurry up and grab a bucket before we lose the whole place!”

“No! I mean…wait, my…” The station was on fire. The station where all the records and research materials he was using for his current cases were stored. And the evidence.

One of the buckets meant for the flames may as well have been dumped on him instead.

The evidence.

“Shit!!” Without a second thought, Heizou darted for the station entrance. The clue board, the months of irreplaceable materials and photos and notes and sketches and the letter the archons be damned letter was inside and he had to—

Heizou was grabbed roughly by the aiguillettes on his shoulder and yanked back, nearly sending him toppling to the ground. “Let me go!” He fought against the hold, reaching blindly for the flames that engulfed what was once the entry to the storage rooms—his office. “Let me go, Owada!” he shouted, “All my work! The casefiles! The evidence!”

“Have you lost your mind?! It’s already gone, Shikanoin!”

Owada’s words shattered what resolve he had left. Never mind the letter that would create enough doubt to keep him out of jail, the entire clue board was gone. All the evidence he needed to continue the case had gone up in flames. He couldn’t replace those photos of the crime scenes. The diagrams couldn’t be recreated with the same accuracy. The testimonies couldn’t be obtained with the same clarity. The samples of local flora would be nearly impossible to find again.

He couldn’t return the portraits of the missing children to their families.

There was no recovery from a setback like that. The hope for solving the case and saving those kids, gone.

Heizou sank to the ground and just stared at the flames.

What do I do?

“Owada! Don’t let him escape!”

Is there anything I can do?

“What? What are you talking about, Takano?”

I was supposed to help them bring their children home.

“We found Aoyama dead at his house and Shikanoin covered in his blood. Then he assaulted six officers, me included.”

“What?! Shikanoin, you—”

Heizou slowly turned to face them. Owada and Transfer Guy— Takano— were staring at him, one with deep concern and the other with a vile sort of arrogance that’d make Heizou want to punch him if he could just will himself to move. Instead all he could do was slowly shake his head, voice trembling. “N-no, I…”

Why is this happening?

“It’s true! Tore his house apart and even took his badge!”

I didn’t!

“He used his vision to attack us too! Man’s too dangerous to just lock up.”

I didn’t mean to!

“Is that true, Shikanoin?”

No, I wouldn’t…I’d never…

His arm was yanked upward to show off his shirt and hands caked in red to the crowd that had gathered. Heizou couldn’t find the strength to fight them off.

“You can’t deny it. We caught you red handed. We all did.”

Shut up…Just shut up!!

More eyes were on him now. More whispers of his name, the story, rumors and conspiracies and distrust woven into each word. Connections severed, reputation ruined, his life work reduced to ash alongside the hopes and pleas for the safe return of loved ones.

Everything.

This can’t be happening..!

“Shikanoin…Why did you…?”

Owada was standing over him, brow pinched with a mix of disappointment and disbelief. Heizou snapped his head up with every intent to deny it; it wasn’t true. He was being set up. He had an alibi that would easily clear him. Takano had something to do with it, there could be no doubt!

Before he could say any of it, he saw Owada’s hand go for the coil of rope at his belt.

You…You don’t believe me either…

His other arm was yanked into the air and Heizou ducked his head. He couldn’t look at them anymore. He didn’t want to be seen by them, not when tears threatened to fall with each cruel word aimed his way. Suspicions and accusations and man alive, they were going to arrest him. They were going to throw him into a cell and leave him to rot because they thought he killed another officer but he was innocent but it wouldn’t matter because they already decided he was guilty and he knew better than anyone how damning that could be.

“Careful, he might use his vision against us again.”

“Should we confiscate it?”

Heizou’s eyes widened. Fear filled him like ice in his veins. He recalled their faces, all of the targets of the Vision Hunt decree he’d met during his time with the Tenryou Commission. Dozens of people who’d been left irreversibly damaged after being stripped of their hopes and dreams, their reason for being, their will to live. All of them hollowed out, reduced to near unrecognizable husks of their former selves. Worse than any jail sentence or war injury.

Worse than dying.

“Good call. The man’s already killed once tonight.”

I have to run.

Heizou yanked his arm free and struggled to his feet. But before he could properly stand, a large hand clapped onto Heizou’s shoulder and forced him back onto his knees while another wrenched his arm backwards. Still, he fought, knowing giving up meant a sentence to a living hell he didn’t think he could survive. “Stop it!” Heizou shouted, “Let me go! I didn’t do it! I didn’t—”

His protests were met with another hard yank on his arm. Heizou bit back a yelp as sharp pain in his shoulder warned what would happen if he moved the wrong way, yet that did little to temper his terror. Heizou could push him off, knock them all away, use his martial prowess to break free and flee, but what would that do other than prove them right? That he was more than capable of taking a man’s life and using his vision to harm his fellow doushin?

“Quit resistin’ already!”

A foot collided with his stomach, knocking the breath from his lungs. He doubled over, disoriented and wheezing, mind struggling to process what was happening around him. Unkind hands holding him in place, officers shouting orders and obscenities, rough rope against chilled skin, the heat of the flames as they crept closer, a fist colliding with his cheek, fingers digging into his scalp to force his head up, taunts spat in his face by that man. Heizou had no choice but to take all of it. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was sit there as he was presented to the steadily forming lynch mob that he prayed would have mercy and just hang him.

Someone…please…

Over the roar of the crowd Heizou heard it; metallic whistling, the whisperings of a promise to the wind. The sign of an oncoming whirlwind he so often mused matched his own. It brought him a strange sense of comfort even as the rope looped around his neck.

The memory of maple and sea salt, warm words and warmer smiles…

Then, as though the sky had finally opened up above him, the storm hit.

A vortex of wind encircled him, startling the doushin into backing off and flinging away the ones that unwisely chose not to. The painful restraints holding him upright vanished and Heizou stumbled back and landed on his rear in the dirt. His vision swam, his head spun. He could hear demands being made and the brandishing of a sword, but it all sounded so distant that Heizou could barely focus on any of it. Until a swath of crimson and black fluttered into his line of sight. With it came a bandaged hand that didn’t waste time asking for permission before grabbing Heizou by the wrist and pulling him to his feet.

When he finally raised his head he didn’t see the leering crowd closing in, ready to destroy him. Instead he was met with a ruby gaze, ever soft and kind in his memories, now sharp with determination and barely contained rage.

“Quickly, come with me!”

Heizou needn’t be told twice.

Chapter Text

To be a good detective, one has to know how a criminal’s mind works. Heizou had learned this long before he took up the title, back when his only exposure to the job came from second-hand crime thrillers bought with his allowance and consumed in secret.

The questions were simple:

Howdunit…How did the perp do it?

Whodunit…Who is the perp that did it?

Those were important, yes, but to focus only on these two questions was a fool’s errand. To find the truth, one must understand the root; the why dunit.

Start from the scene and work back. Put yourself in the perpetrator’s position. Know the options they had before them at the time and put yourself in their shoes. Know their thought process, what they had at stake and what could have happened if things had been different. And most importantly, understand the emotion behind every action. Know that sometimes a crime feels necessary. Whether that was factual or not would be what decided the result of the investigation and the verdict laid upon the perpetrator.

As far as the murder of Doushin Aoyama and the arson of the police station, the whydunit was up for debate, but the whodunit, in the eyes of the Tenryou Commission, was currently Shikanoin Heizou himself.

And to Shikanoin Heizou, the crimes of resisting arrest, assaulting multiple officers, and fleeing custody felt very necessary.

The two ran with the wind at their heels, the glow of a familiar anemo vision a beacon in the downpour. Heizou didn’t know where they were going and what they’d do once they got there, but he knew that the person leading him was someone he could trust.

After all, Heizou had put himself in Kazuha’s shoes before, and found his “crime” to be necessary as well. 

So when he met with the edge of the cliff and Kazuha shouting "Jump!", he did so without hesitation. He charged off the edge alongside Kazuha, unfurled his glider midair, and rode the turbulent currents across the bay. Even if he hadn't had his glider with him, braving the fall with only the aid of his vision was vastly preferred over what they were running from.

Once they touched down in the shallows on the other side, Kazuha looked both ways before taking off eastward with only a nod indicating Heizou should follow. If he had the bandwidth to spare, Heizou would marvel at how adept Kazuha was at navigating their terrain. Each step was taken with the confidence of a man walking the halls of his own home. In a sense, the comparison wasn't far off; Kazuha was a wanderer, and Inazuma was his home.

Was.

Why did he come back?

They followed the path up the hill to a storm-swollen river. Kazuha took his wrist and led him northward along the riverbank, their steps outlined by eerily glowing blooms. They only slowed when they reached the waterfall at the northern edge of the forest, and Kazuha once again took a second to examine their surroundings before pulling Heizou towards a small cavern created by a felled tree and years-eroded stone.

Although neither of them could claim happy memories of the area, it was a place they could shelter from the rain and that's all that mattered.

Guess we’re wearing the same shoes again.

Kazuha let Heizou's wrist drop before poking his head out of the cave's entrance presumably to see if they were followed. Heizou watched, hand braced against the cave wall to keep himself upright on his shaky legs. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, but a very temporary one, and the high was wearing off.

"They'll be preoccupied with the station fire for a while longer." Kazuha said as he stepped back inside, seemingly satisfied with the security of their surroundings. "We can catch our breath."

As if waiting for those words, the strength drained from Heizou's legs completely and he sagged to the cave floor. For a long moment, he dazedly stared at the glowing flowers around him, fumbling with his own bearings. He wanted to give his thanks to Kazuha for rescuing him, or at least express his relief to be away from that situation, but he struggled to string words together in even the simplest of sentences. The events of the evening had him reeling and his body had outpaced his brain in their frantic escape. He hadn't time to process any of it; Aoyama's murder, Takano's accusations, the rapid destruction of his entire life's work as he sat in the mud desperately trying to salvage his reputation as it burned along with the station—

"Are you injured?"

Heizou snapped back to awareness to see Kazuha crouching in front of him. The sharpness his eyes held earlier had softened with concern, but the fury remained smoldering just beneath the surface. Thankfully that fury was directed elsewhere, though Heizou pitied any poor soul that happened upon their hiding place by accident.

Quickly, Heizou shook his head, the motion making the world tilt a few degrees further than it ought to. I guess I did get knocked around pretty hard back there, “N-no, I’m fine.” He gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed his knuckles against a raw scrape on his cheek. His eye twitched with a stifled wince, “Most of this isn’t mine.”

Hold up. "Uh...That sounds...really bad, doesn't it?"

Kazuha quirked a brow and huffed, "It...does, especially considering the circumstances." Instead of sitting as one would expect, Kazuha leaned against the cave wall opposite of Heizou, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Ready to act, should the situation call for it. Heizou wasn't sure if he should be comforted by that or not. "Shikanoin, what happened back there? I smelled blood on the wind, and then to find you in such a state..."

At those words, Heizou lowered his gaze to his own hands and clothing. Blood. Even after getting drenched in the storm there was still so much of it on him. Staining his hakama and haori, crusted under his fingernails and caking beneath the edges of his arm and leg guards. He could only guess what his face looked like, stinging and throbbing, and surely bruised from the blows to his jaw. And that was how Kazuha was seeing him.

Kazuha.

Kazuha had found him like this.

Nausea roiled in his gut. How much had Kazuha heard before stepping in? Did he know what he was being accused of? If he told him what happened, would Kazuha look at the state he was in and assume he was the culprit as well? Would he believe the officers' claims? Would he ignore his pleas?

"Shikanoin?"

Heizou hadn't realized he was shaking until he felt Kazuha's steady hand against his shoulder. Frayed nerves made him flinch at the touch, his body expecting a fist when there was only an open palm. Kazuha, perceptive as ever, took this as discomfort and withdrew his hand. Heizou instantly cursed his overreacting sense of self-preservation. Calm down , he scolded himself, This is Kaedehara you’re talking to. He’s reasonable. He’ll listen. Just give your statement for the record and go from there.

He drew in a slow breath, then looked directly at Kazuha as he spoke.

"I'm being framed for murder."

Well, that's one way to start, I guess. Keep going.

"I know this sounds crazy—and trust me, this situation is—but you have to believe me." Heizou turned to face Kazuha properly, emphatically gesturing as he explained. "My colleague Aoyama was murdered, and I think that Takano guy is behind it. He's convinced the other officers that it was me using purely circumstantial evidence."

As he spoke, Kazuha's eyes widened and he turned where he sat to face Heizou fully. "They're trying to frame you for the murder? For what reason?"

Heizou thought to point out that there were many reasons for someone to want a detective—especially a successful one—out of the picture, but that was well beside the point. “I don’t know his motive but I’m pretty sure it has to do with the case I’ve been working on for the last several weeks." He rummaged in the inner pocket of his haori and pulled out his notebook that, much to his chagrin, was just as soaked as the rest of him. Heizou watched the water drip off the waxed leather with a grimace. That peddler from Fontaine better not have been bullshitting me with the "waterproof Sumeran ink" pitch.

He continued, the notebook now included in his gesturing, "A-anyway, Aoyama. He was assigned to be my partner and I found him dead in his house and I was trying to figure out how and why. But then the officers showed up to arrest me and Takano called me little deer like this letter I—”

Right. The letter. The clue board. Everything.

“— Shit, it’s gone." His hands fell to his lap, notebook sliding onto the rocky ground beneath his knees. "All the evidence for the case. For every one of my cases! All of it was inside the station…!”

Suddenly the air was too thin.

"It's all gone." Heizou pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and took slow, deep breaths to keep himself in check. “This is... So bad, Kaedehara. I don’t even know where to begin. The entire case has gone up in literal smoke and now I’m wanted for murder.”  

This is insane. What kind of B movie did I end up in? I'm supposed to be the dashing detective in this story! Not the unwitting schmuck that pissed off the wrong guy and ended up a fucking plot point!

In spite of his efforts, his breath hitched in his throat. No, keep it together, Shikanoin! At the very least, keep yourself cool in front of Kaedehara. You can manage that! You always have!

He was trying. Archons, he was trying. But everything had come down on his head so quickly and thoroughly he'd been left with nothing to stand on. He was one man up against an angry mob bent on revenge and they wouldn't care what kind of collateral damage came as a result.

Heizou wrapped his arms around himself in hopes of fighting off the tremble in his shoulders and the ache in his jaw. The reality of what he was facing had started piling onto his back and he was struggling to keep himself upright. He was a wanted man, falsely accused, up against something beyond his conjecture with nothing to back his claims except his word and what could be deciphered from a single, waterlogged notebook. But logic was worthless against a crowd driven by betrayal and grief. And he already knew his reputation wasn't going to save him; no one, not even the people he thought he could trust came to his defense even as he was about to be strung up.

No one.

Except—

"Shikanoin, breathe."

—the man sitting next to him, hand on his back to steady him against the onslaught of his own thoughts.

Kaedehara.

Kaedehara had come to his defense without even knowing what he was accused of.

Kaedehara had led him to safety so he could tell his side of the story.

And he listened.

Heizou sucked in a shaky breath, "I'm sorry." he muttered, head ducked in hopes Kazuha wouldn't see how close he was to crying, "Just...give me a moment...please."

Kazuha said nothing. He simply hummed and shuffled closer to him, his gentle hand warm as it ran along Heizou's back. He barely contained the urge to lean into the source of said warmth.

They sat in silence for a time as Heizou collected himself. Scattered pieces slowly gathered into a pile to be sorted, one puzzle set from the other.

First, he needed to figure out his next move; the other officers would be looking for him, and Takano was likely to lead the charge. They'd look into his connections and anyone even tangentially related to him would be on the shortlist of people to harass for his location.

That complicated matters.

The number of people he trusted enough to seek out in a time like this were so few that it'd be far too easy to find if any of them were helping him. It would only be a matter of time before they tracked him down and dragged him, and anyone else they suspected in aiding and abetting him, to the gallows.

Damn it, he hugged himself tighter, his fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, just knowing me puts people at risk. Anyone I care about could end up like Aoyama!

Before he had a chance to fully pull himself together, he felt Kazuha stiffen next to him. Heizou lifted his head to watch Kazuha step just far enough away from the mouth of the cavern to get a proper view down river. For a moment he remained still, staring hard at the treeline further down the bend. If it were anyone else, Heizou would be concerned they'd lost a screw somewhere, standing in the downpour as he was. But he knew better; this was Kazuha among nature on his proverbial home turf. And judging by the look on his face, he had zeroed in on an unwanted presence.

"They're headed this way." He said just loud enough to be heard over the rain. "I had not realized the Tenryou Commission had hounds in their employ."

Shit. Of course they’d send the dogs in to look for a man covered in blood and ash. Of all the times for the precinct to be efficient…

Heizou rose to his feet and peered around the felled tree that obscured their location from those trekking north. “There’s no way they would have contained the station fire that fast.”

“It would not surprise me if they were to drop something so emergent as a structure fire in favor of chasing a fugitive.” As if realizing who he was talking to, Kazuha offered an apologetic smile Heizou’s way. “No offense.”

“I mean…” Heizou shrugged, “You’re not exactly wrong in that regard.” They were, in fact, abandoning the burning police station to chase after one man.

What sent Kazuha on high alert finally hit his ears; angry shouting, dogs barking, growing steadily closer. Heizou couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he was sure Kazuha could, and he wasn’t happy with whatever it was.

Panic spiked in Heizou’s chest again. Kazuha was smart to lead them across bodies of water in their escape, but that would only get them so far before the patrols stationed elsewhere on the island received orders from headquarters and began their own searches. Hiding was no longer a viable option. Okay, Shikanoin, break’s over. Time to figure out your next move. Focus!

“Shikanoin,” There was an edge to Kazuha’s normally calm voice; unease tinged with anger, yet he stood as stalwart as ever. His hand was on the hilt of his sword in waiting as though he expected their pursuers to jump out from the treeline at any moment. “You’ve deduced someone may be conspiring with the doushin to incriminate you, correct?”

“Takano, yes, he referenced the threatening letter I received. It said 'Tread carefully, little deer.' ” Even if it was largely conjecture, Heizou was convinced the man was the mastermind. It was too convenient for him to arrive at the scene so soon after Heizou had, and with how aggressive he was in claims and how easily the other doushin were swayed… “I suspect there are multiple co-conspirators among the commission, but I am unsure who and to what extent.” Enough of an extent that they would murder someone in cold blood and set the police station on fire, bare minimum.

“And when I arrived, they were trying to lynch you.” Kazuha glanced his way only briefly before going back to watching the trees in the distance.

“Or take my vision.”

Kazuha’s attention snapped fully to Heizou, eyes wide, “They wanted to take your vision?” There was a touch of fear to his voice at the prospect. Considering his previous experiences with the commission, no one could blame him, least of all another vision user like himself.

Those weren’t the best times for Heizou either.

“Yeah…” Again he nodded, looking away while anxiously chewing his lip. He winced, a burning sting combined with the tang of copper reminding him of the split lip gifted to him by whoever slugged him back at the station. He shook off the discomfort, and forced a nonchalant shrug and a sardonic chuckle in its place, “Said I was too dangerous with it. The lynching would have been preferred, if I’m honest.” Death would have been a mercy over that.

A beat of silence passed with Kazuha watching his expression, as though he was searching for a clue among his bruised, rain-soaked face. And in return, Heizou watched Kazuha, an attempt to understand how a man could look so terrifying and serene at the same time. As always, Kaedehara Kazuha was not so simple of a man to read.

In the distance, the voices grew louder.

“...what is your plan?”

The plan.

The plan he should have come up with by then. If it were any other time—any other situation —he’d have ten steps already plotted out with multiple branches of possibilities on a potential beginning and end. He was no tactician but his skills in deductive reasoning served him well and his intuition rarely failed him.

But now? He could only lower his head in shame at the complete blank he was drawing.

“I don’t have one.” He said quietly, voice thicker than he’d hoped. He’d gotten himself wrapped up in a huge mess that he couldn’t big brain himself out of and Kazuha had selflessly dove in after him. And Heizou had no idea how to get them out in one piece.

How many mistakes will I make tonight? How hurt are the people I care about going to get?

Heizou chuckled bitterly, “I really screwed up this time, huh?" He raised his head and offered Kazuha a sheepish grin in hopes he wouldn’t notice the tremble in his lips, “Sorry to drag you into this, Kaedehara.”

That’s all he had. No plan, just an apology and a forced smile. If he smiled, maybe it’d be easier to convince Kazuha to make himself scarce before he got pinned as an accomplice or worse.

What a failure I am.

“Give me your haori.”

Blink, “Eh?”

All of a sudden Kazuha was standing in front of him, eyes filled with a familiar determination and a faint glimmer of mischief that, if it were any other time, Heizou would find exciting. Instead he stared wide-eyed at the other man while untying his haori from his waist, completely speechless. A touch of heat flowed into his cheeks when he realized Kazuha was doing the same, even going so far as fastening his armor and vision to his belt, leaving his white inner kimono and scarf in place.

His eyes flicked from Heizou’s haori to his belt and shoulder, “Your regalia too.”

The added request made Heizou wince. He had a feeling where Kazuha was going with the odd demands but that didn’t make the task any less disheartening. Carefully he unfastened the aiguillette and Tenryou badge from his shirt and choker. Ornaments and badges that marked his accomplishment of becoming an official detective, a dream he’d held since childhood. He only had a few seconds to mourn its loss before placing it all on top of the pile of drenched fabric and handing it over to Kazuha.

Kazuha gave a quick bow of his head and a quiet “Thank you.” before unceremoniously chucking the whole bundle into the river.

“Oh.” He said dumbly, “Throwing the dogs off?”

Kazuha hummed.

“Clever thinking.” Why didn’t I come up with that? Ah, right, perhaps I would have if I wasn’t out of my wits over the lynch mob that wants to string me up like some kind of macabre festival decor.

For a moment the two marveled at how quickly the storm-swollen river whisked his clothing away, and with it his identity as a detective of the Tenryou Commission.

Before he could dwell too long, Heizou was pulled from his thoughts by a wet but warm haori being draped over his head and shoulders. Kazuha was before him again, a scant few inches from his face, hands lingering on the drenched fabric. Heizou’s gaze drifted from Kazuha’s hands to his face, expression solemn as though it was the vestiges of his own livelihood being swept downstream. He said nothing to that end, instead opting to tug the haori tighter around Heizou’s bare shoulders. The gesture only served to bring more heat to Heizou's cheeks. This would feel romantic if I wasn’t trying to avoid being executed.

“Let’s go.” Kazuha took him by the hand and offered a tense but reassuring smile. “If we stick to the cliffside, they won’t see us.”

Heizou clutched the haori around himself with his free hand and allowed Kazuha to pull him away from their makeshift shelter and into the rain once more. Back on the run.

“Where…” Heizou didn’t even need to voice the question before the puzzle pieces snapped together in his head. “...you’re taking me to the Alcor.”

Kazuha nodded, “It’s the safest place for you right now.”

The Alcor, the Crux Fleet. It made sense. The Crux Fleet hailed from Liyue and held a level of diplomatic immunity that would make it more difficult for the guards to simply waltz aboard without permission. Unless of course they wanted to piss off the Tianquan who—if the whispering among the dockworkers and merchants were true—had a more personal connection to the captain.

Kazuha was right; it was the safest place. He’d have a chance to take a breath, get his head on straight, and actually sit down and formulate a plan to clear his name and mitigate the damage Takano had already caused.

He had a chance to make things right. Thanks to Kazuha who had, quite literally, swooped in to rescue him during his darkest hour and whisked him away to safety.

The realization sent a wave of warmth from his nose to his ears. If Kazuha hadn’t been there…

Heizou’s mind drifted to the samurai’s eyes and how they burned bright with conviction when fearlessly shielding Heizou from his would-be executioners. How he’d selflessly given up his haori to shelter Heizou from the elements and any potentially prying eyes. And as they made their way from the forest towards Byakko Plains and onward to the coast, he thought of how warm his hand felt, even though both of them were soaked through with rain.

So confident, so kind, and still willing to face down any threat without batting an eye.

What a way to meet again. He chuckled to himself. If I’d known he was back in Inazuma, I would have brought him dinner instead. But at least this way I got to see a new side of him.

“Man alive…” He huffed.

Kazuha looked over his shoulder to him but didn’t slow down, “Hm? Is something amiss?”

Heizou shook his head, “I was just thinking… Wow, Kaedehara is so cool!”

Kazuha stifled a chuckle himself, but Heizou could see the tips of his ears turning red. “Come on, as much as I enjoy nature’s gifts, I’d much rather be somewhere warm and dry.”

With their destination decided, Heizou followed Kazuha as he expertly navigated through the forest towards the coast.

Maybe there’s still hope for a peaceful outcome.

Heizou had never been so happy to see Harrison in his life.

That was to say, he was generally not happy to see the smuggler at all, because that meant he was about to arrest him for bootlegging or whatever other racket the man had gotten wrapped up in out of his version of necessity. The feeling was mutual if the way the man recoiled upon recognition was any indication. Thankfully Kazuha was there to ease the tension by way of a fistful of mora and the soft yet stern request of passage to the Alcor, “the long way”, which Heizou took to mean “a route that would grant us the least amount of attention as possible.”

As expected, Harrison’s desire for mora outweighed his sense of self-preservation, because he accepted the pay and decidedly avoided looking at Heizou the entire ride.

The storm had begun to subside and a cool mist settled in its place, hovering just above the surface of the water. Heizou had to wonder if the fortunate—if not severe —weather was actually Kazuha’s doing over a mere coincidence, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, he couldn’t imagine the older male kicking up a thunderstorm as a distraction considering his relationship with the element and its association with past events.

That was something Heizou refused to bring up for both their sakes.

By the time they reached the port side of Ritou, it was well past midnight. Heizou could feel the weight of exhaustion creeping up his limbs but refused to acknowledge it. Even if he wanted to rest, he didn’t think his mind would quiet enough to allow him the luxury. If anyone with a brain was left at the commission, they’d know that a fugitive wouldn’t stop at Narukami’s shores in their attempts to escape. No, it was best he remained vigilant until they were safely aboard the Alcor and what protection it and its crew could provide.

That is, if they could provide. The Crux Fleet had a reputation for being primarily crewed by a mixed bag of former brigands and “under-employable” sailors from all over Teyvat. And of course, the occasional at-large fugitive fleeing the country. So long as they were willing to work and were able to meet Captain Beidou’s standards, she’d take most anyone on board. That didn’t mean she’d take Heizou, a man who up until a few hours prior had been the type who’d sooner arrest some members of her crew rather than join them.

It’ll be fine, he told himself. If she doesn’t trust me, surely she’ll trust Kaedehara.

They parted ways with Harrison in the shallows near the southernmost pier. Heizou would note the man continued to ignore his presence even as he exchanged pleasantries with Kazuha. Heizou assumed it was because of their previous run-ins or somehow Harrison was smart enough to know not acknowledging someone’s presence entirely was a great way to create plausible deniability. Either way, he thanked the smuggler himself directly before following Kazuha towards the shipyard.

For once Heizou was grateful for how lax security had become in Ritou since the Sankoku Decree was lifted; it’d become far easier for any criminals wishing to gain passage into the country to slip past the border checkpoints unnoticed, like Harrison just had.

And Heizou himself. He grimaced when he realized he could be counted among those criminals taking advantage of Ritou’s lackluster security, which did little for his already withering self-esteem. I’m going to have to unpack that sooner rather than later, aren’t I?

…Nope, still later.

Heizou placed that thought on the backburner in favor of scanning their surroundings. The pier was blessedly quiet that time of night. It was difficult to make out everything through the mist, but Heizou knew the dock well enough to know where they needed to be and where to avoid so as not to be spotted by the guards. The Alcor would need to be on the longest pier. We can sneak behind the stalls, then the covered crates,

Their path mapped, Heizou gave a silent nod to Kazuha to follow before walking as quietly as possible along the docks. Which, he’d add, was a considerable feat for a pair of men in wooden shoes.

“Excuse me, sir!”

They’d made it halfway down the pier when a voice called from somewhere further into the mist. Heizou nearly jumped out of his skin. Shit, shit, shit, hide! He grabbed ahold of Kazuha by the scarf—which earned him a barely stifled yelp and a disgruntled look—and dragged him behind the nearest object to avoid being seen. In this case, a large crate stacked along the boardwalk, which—judging by location—was waiting to be loaded onto the Alcor. And next to it was an armed guard who had stopped to question a solitary dockworker.

Of course. This was going too well.

The dockworker—a larger man, stocky in build—set down the crate he was carrying atop the very one they’d chosen to hide behind. “Aye, can I help you?”

“We’re looking for a suspect currently on the lam. We’ve received word from the mainland that he may have fled here.”

Heizou swallowed thickly. Yep, they were definitely looking for him. Damn them and their efficiency right when I need them not to be.

The worker crossed his arms across his broad chest, and leaned against the stacked crates. “Haven’t seen no one. It’s just been me and the lads haulin’ for Captain Beidou all night.”

The mention of Beidou brought Heizou’s attention to Kazuha, who was peering around the corner of the crate to get a better look at the two speaking. “One of yours?” Heizou asked, voice barely loud enough to hear over the waves.

Kazuha nodded, “Juza.”

“Can he get us on board unnoticed?” As he asked this, Heizou was searching their surroundings once more for anything of use, either as a distraction or a means of getting aboard the ship before the guard could spot them. There weren’t a lot of options that wouldn’t set the rest of the guards on high alert and potentially risk the crew or themselves running into trouble.

“Wait a moment.” Kazuha whispered and settled behind the crate beside Heizou. “Let us see how Juza handles the situation.”

“Right.” Heizou nodded and drew in a slow breath. Relax, Shikanoin. He tugged the haori closer around himself again, its warmth and scent helping to soothe his frayed nerves. You’re letting yourself get worked up again. Just keep your cool. You’re almost home free, just gotta stay low.

“We ask that you please report any unusual persons you come across.” the guard continued, “This man is considered highly dangerous. He’s already injured several officers and taken the life of at least one.”

Heizou tensed. Shit, don’t tell him that! How am I going to stay on a ship where they all think I’m some kind of bloodthirsty maniac? In spite of his efforts to stay calm, Heizou could feel the fear bubbling in his chest again. Just like back at Aoyama’s house, it would only take one enthusiastic retelling of the events to destroy his reputation with yet another crowd. And with the crew of the Alcor having never met him, they were blank slates. He’d be marked as dangerous before he even stepped foot onto the ship.

“Shikanoin.” Kazuha braced a steadying hand on Heizou’s shoulder as though that alone would quell his mounting panic. He leaned close with yet another reminder to “Breathe.” given barely above a whisper.

Heizou wished that was enough to temper his anxiety, but it wasn’t, not after the events of the night. He grabbed Kazuha’s wrist with one hand and clutched his haori around him with the other, “Kaedehara, please, you can’t let him believe that I’m—” a criminal? A murderer? Someone to be feared? Dangerous? Am I a danger to them? Would my presence endanger the people on the Alcor?

Am I endangering Kaedehara?

“Oi! Juza! What’s the holdup?”

Everyone’s attention turned towards the source of the voice. Like some kind of seafaring savior, Beidou emerged from the fog with all the swagger expected of a notorious ship captain. Her presence commanded attention, and in turn she gave attention to everything around her, including the two men hiding behind a stack of crates directly behind one of her crewmen.

One could imagine what she saw; Kazuha, sans his signature haori, hiding behind a storage crate, presumably from the guard nearby. And beside him, a man she did not know sporting Kazuha's haori like a bridal veil, his own clothing drenched with mud and blood.

Yeah, Heizou could imagine what was going through her head at the moment, and none of it was good.

Something shifted in her demeanor, her expression going from pleasant (and moderately tipsy, if the scent of ale was any indication) to a deep, indignant scowl that would have lesser men quaking in their boots, if not fleeing the scene altogether.

What flipped the switch, Heizou could only guess, but he made a mental note to never get on her bad side. Forget looks that could kill, Beidou could intimidate a corpse back to life just to cut them down again.

“I already told you we have a tight turnaround this time. What gives?”

Juza bowed his head in a quick apology at the admonishment, “Sorry, Captain! This guy here was just asking if we’ve seen anyone suspicious.”

Beidou crossed her arms under her bust with a clear look of disdain on her face, “Well, have you?” as she spoke, her gaze flicked to Heizou.

Heizou tensed, taken aback a little. Maybe it was the intensity of her crimson eye or the prickle of static at the base of his skull, but Heizou just knew she was sizing him up. The state he was in told an interesting story on its own; bruised and bloodied, teetering on exhaustion, shivering beneath the borrowed haori. Not his finest look, and definitely not what she expected to come back to in the middle of the night, let alone alongside Kazuha.

Her attention then shifted to Kazuha, expression unchanging even as the guard continued to prattle on about the “dangerous fugitive” on the loose and possibly skulking around Ritou. Heizou could not say for certain what they exchanged during those brief seconds of silent communication, but it was enough to have Kazuha shuffling to his feet again.

“Get ready to run.”

He motioned to the pier behind Heizou with a nod. There were crates stacked the whole way to the open cargo hold, and next to it was the gangway. If they could get past the guard, it was a straight shot up the ramp to the main deck. Ah, so that’s the plan. Heizou nodded and braced one hand against the crate to stand, his other still clutching the haori around himself. At that point it felt more like a security blanket instead of a means of hiding his identity. Oh, look! More things to unpack when I can think straight!

Heizou peered over the crate to see that Juza was now standing between the guard and the gangway, hands on his hips. And in front of him was Beidou, leaning close with a decidedly wicked grin on her face. “Listen, it’s not my men’s job to keep track of your wild dogs.” she seethed, and oh, if Heizou wasn’t intimidated before, he definitely would be from just observing the scene alone. With each step the guard took backwards, Beidou took two towards, steadily backing the quivering man into the brickwall that was Juza. “We got less than forty-eight hours to have our ships unloaded, loaded, and signed off or else we start bleeding mora for overstaying our dock time. So unless you want your chatty ass—”

Using the guard’s frightened pleas and a sideways glance from Beidou as a signal, Kazuha pressed against Heizou’s back to urge him forward with a harsh whisper of “Go, go, go!”

Heizou took off without hesitation, bolting at full speed for the gangway as though a pack of riftwolves had just decided to make him their next meal.

Actually, a pack of riftwolves would probably still be preferred over a pissed off Captain Beidou, all things considered.

Heizou knew he didn’t have time to marvel at the guard’s terrified babbling, or how Juza huddled closer to said guard to block his view of the gangway as they passed, as though he too received silent orders from the captain. He could be impressed later. After he was safely aboard.

Once the two were on deck, Kazuha ushered Heizou to a set of double doors beneath the ship’s helm. He pushed him through first, paused at the entry himself—waiting for a signal, Heizou would guess—then rushed inside and slammed the doors behind them.

Kazuha locked the door and took three steps back, an arm outstretched to keep Heizou behind him, as if readying to shield him bodily from whoever burst through to apprehend them.

Yet there was nothing, only silence punctuated by their own panting breaths.

Safe.

The two heaved a collective sigh of relief before flopping onto the wood floor to finally, finally catch their breath.

“Man alive…” Heizou fell onto his back with arms out to his sides, Kazuha’s haori fanned out beneath him, “That was close.”

“It was.” Kazuha sat cross-legged next to Heizou, hands propping him upright so he could still have a clear view of the doors.

“Do you do that often?” Heizou gestured in the general direction of the dock. If one listened closely, he could hear the terror-stricken guard still apologizing to Beidou.

“Hm? Harass the guard, or help fugitives sneak aboard the ship?”

“Both.”

Kazuha tilted his head to the side and grinned, “The former, not so often. Beidou usually pays them off if we need them to turn a blind eye.”

Heizou made a face, I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that. He knew it happened often among those assigned to monitor the pier, but hearing it first hand left a sour taste in his mouth. If Kazuha noticed, he didn’t let on. Instead merely gave a half shrug and continued as he watched the doors. “The latter…often enough, I suppose.” He shifted where he sat to fully face Heizou, a wry smile upturning his pale features. “Were you impressed by our coordination given the lack of verbal communication?”

Heizou couldn’t help but snort at that, “Truly? Yes. Do you run drills of such scenarios, or do you just rely on your apparent telepathic abilities to organize these operations.”

“Neither.” Kazuha chuckled, “It is more our collective intuition and the trust we hold in one another. Surely you would recognize your partner’s tells in similar situations?”

“I’d need a partner to share my tells with first.” His mind flickered back to Aoyama and how the young officer had wanted to work with Heizou, or at least offer some kind of support even if it was just reminders to take breaks. And Heizou had been so wrapped up in the serial kidnapping case that he’d snubbed him without thinking of the consequences, including how it’d make Aoyama feel.

Then he was dead.

Maybe it’s a good thing I never asked Kaedehara to be my partner on a case. I’d probably end up ruining him too.

Another suitcase to add to the carriage-worth of baggage he’d earned that night that he’d resolved to deal with later. Or maybe never. For now, he flashed a bright smile to Kazuha, this one a little more genuine than before, “I’ll take your word for it if you promise to show me again sometime.”

Kazuha looked like he wanted to say something in response when the door rattled. Immediately Heizou scrambled to his feet and quickly scanned the room for potential exits or hiding places. Fancy desk, big cartography table, fabric draped on the walls, alcove with what looks like a bed, heavy looking armoire, large windows overlooking the stern. Could hide there, there, or there, or escape through—

Have I always chosen to run or hide? Was it always like this?

The lock disengaged and instead of another assailant ready to drag Heizou away, in walked Beidou sporting a wide grin and a boisterous laugh. “Hoo~ it’s been a while since I had to run a guard off. I didn’t even need to ask Juza to manhandle him at all.” She laughed, arms akimbo, and kicked the door shut behind her. Her demeanor was a complete 180 from how she’d acted with the guard just a few moments prior. Jovial, even in the face of what she had to have known was a serious situation.

Something told Heizou that was just typical of Captain Beidou.

Kazuha rose to his feet and met her at the entry, “Thank you, anegimi. Your timing was quite fortuitous.” he paused, tilting his head, “But how did you know to look for us here?”

Beidou crossed her arm over her chest and gestured at the dock with the other, “The guards were talking about an uproar at the police station. Something about a fire and a rogue doushin on a rampage.” She turned to face Heizou fully and looked him over, or rather his clothing. They'd gotten rid of his haori and badges, but even the blood couldn't hide the Tenryou Commission's emblem printed on his hakama.

Heizou, suddenly hyper-aware of the mess he looked, threw up his hands in defense, “I can explain—”

“Relax.” Beidou cut him off before he could get a word in. The warning in her gaze was enough to tell Heizou he needed to not try to explain himself. Instead she looked to Kazuha for answers, “You said you were going ashore to visit a friend. You didn’t tell me he was a doushin. ”

What? Heizou looked between the two of them, He came to see me? Specifically? But...why?

Kazuha nodded, “Yes, though this isn't quite what I had in mind for said visit.” 

“Figured as much.” she gestured nonchalantly at Heizou, “So this is the dangerous individual the guards are looking for?”

Heizou shifted uncomfortably. The need to escape was creeping higher in his chest with each passing second. Beidou had already heard from the guards what happened. She already knew that the blood on his clothing belonged to the officer he allegedly slain and that the manhunt had already reached Ritou. She was no longer a blank slate. No amount of good first impressions was going to erase what she already heard. He’d only been on the Alcor for five minutes and his reputation had already been destroyed. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to come here. What if my—

“Hey, you.”

Heizou about jumped out of his skin. He’d been so wrapped up in his panic that he didn’t even notice Beidou was in front of him, with Kazuha just a few steps behind. “What’s your name?”

“S-Shikanoin Heizou!” He answered too quickly. If it were any other day, he’d be able to respond confidently, introduce himself with both name and title, and strike up some kind of casual conversation. That sort of thing had always come naturally to him, for better or worse. But at that moment he could barely manage a proper response without hyperventilating. He was about to be part of an intense interrogation session led by a fearsome pirate captain, and he was on the wrong side of the table.

But no such interrogation ever came. Instead, Beidou just continued to stare at him with such intensity Heizou wondered if she could see completely through him. Could she somehow use her electro vision to physically intimidate someone, or was the hair standing on the back of his neck truly because of fright?

“Shikanoin Heizou.” She repeated. Then, as though finding the answer she’d been searching for in him, Beidou backed off with a huff. “All right. Kaz, you got spare clothes that’ll fit him, right?”

At her query, Kazuha too visibly relaxed, “Yes, I believe I should.”

“Perfect.” Her hands were back on her hips and the confident smirk back on her face, “Both of you clean up and get into something dry before you catch your death. Then, you’ll tell me everything.”

Chapter Text

It was only when a beam of sunlight shone across his face that Heizou was finally pulled into waking. With a groan he rolled over, pulling the sheets up over his head to shield from the offending brightness. Normally he was the sort to rise with the sun, eager to greet the day and what mysteries it held. But at the moment he was content to bury himself in the blankets and pillows of Kazuha’s bed and sleep the day away.

…Wait, who’s bed…?

Such luxury wasn’t to last. The clanging of a bell somewhere above deck was his only warning before the world suddenly dipped beneath him with a great, shuddering shake. His half-conscious mind registered the sudden jolt as an earthquake and had him flinging the blankets off himself while mentally reviewing all the evacuation routes to higher ground in preparation for the inevitable tsunami. But after a few seconds of compulsive disaster prep, his brain registered that he wasn’t at home in his bed or even on Narukami.

There was no quake, just a large ship being loosed from its moorings and its sails catching the wind.

The Alcor was finally departing for Liyue. Soon, Inazuma would be far behind him.

Convincing Beidou to take him on as a temporary crewmember had been markedly less difficult than Heizou expected. Especially so since he was 1) a (former) doushin and subordinate of Kujou Sara, who was notedly not one of Beidou’s favorite people, and 2) upon first meeting, Heizou had been covered in blood that he admitted was not his own, something all three of them could agree was not a good look and best left unmentioned altogether.

After being given a dry change of clothes—a modest brown yukata, courtesy of Kazuha—and a spot on the floor next to the hearth, Heizou settled in to regale the nights events in hopes he’d be allowed sanctuary on the ship and not get himself keelhauled.

Once he’d gotten to the point where Kazuha swooped in to rescue him, she only had one question;

“You willing to work?”

He said yes, and that was all she needed to hear.

The rest was fuzzy, exhaustion having finally caught up with him. He vaguely recalled Kazuha guiding him back to his room, urging him to not fight sleep any longer and coaxing him to take his bed for the night. Heizou was sure he agreed, though what was said was lost to the haze of sleep he’d been skirting for the better part of the hour. The last thing he remembered was Kazuha smiling over him and saying he’d be back after “taking care of some things.”

If he’d been more awake Heizou might have inquired as to what those things were, but something told him he was better off not knowing, especially since the theme of the evening was apparently “Shikanoin Heizou Knows Too Much.” So instead he’d just mumbled a quiet word of thanks before dropping off to sleep buried in Kazuha’s blankets.

Heizou hadn’t woken when Kazuha returned— if he returned. It was quite possible that he’d slept elsewhere since Heizou had taken his bed. And Heizou would have hoped that he’d noticed if Kazuha crawled in next to him—

Okay, let’s stop fixating on Kaedehara and his bed.

Heizou sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. It was difficult to tell what time it was without a better view of the sky, but Heizou imagined it to be closer to noon than morning. He grumbled a curse; Beidou said to be up at dawn with the others, but…ugh… He planted both feet on the floor and tried to stand, only for a deep, bruise-like pain to bloom in his soles and ripple upwards until every nerve came back online to file complaint against his previous night’s “adventure”. He’d expected to be hurting once he woke up, but he didn’t think it’d be so all-encompassing. Heizou liked to think he was relatively fit for a man who preferred mental exercises over physical, but that much running along with the apparent overuse of his anemo vision to keep pace with Kazuha was nearly enough to floor him.

Not to mention the throbbing in his cheek and jaw. Heizou was grateful that Kazuha's bunk lacked a mirror; judging by the dull throb in his cheek, his face was definitely a mess.

To call the room he was in “Kazuha's Bunk” was a bit of an overstatement. It looked like it was a closet first and a sleeping room second. It was narrow, the wooden bed taking up nearly half its width and almost its entire length. A hammock was suspended perpendicular to the bed, likely providing both storage and an additional sleeping space. Heizou made a mental note to ask Kazuha’s preference on that, though he had a feeling Kazuha would insist he take the bed regardless. Something about being used to sleeping in odd places outdoors.

Near the entry wedged between the foot of the bed and the wall was an aged chest with a neatly folded pile of clothing stacked on top. Heizou glanced down at his current attire; the same brown yukata from the night before and nothing else. Not exactly work-ready as he was. His own clothing likely wasn’t salvageable, and if it was, it was still emblazoned with the Tenryou Clan emblem. Tying a red flag around my waist would raise fewer alarms than wearing those at this point.

Thankfully what Kazuha had left him was a bit more utilitarian; a pair of momohiki style pants along with his haragake and undergarments that appeared to have been washed and dried while he slept. A functioning outfit while they sorted out the rest of his arrangements.

Heizou dressed quickly, finger-combed and tied his hair back, then made his way to the deck to join the rest of the crew.

As soon as Heizou climbed onto the deck he was met with the crimson red of unfurled sails framed by infinite blue. Now that he had a clear view of the sky, he could see it was just after noon. For a moment he observed the members of the crew as they went about their routines. Whether it be repairing the ballistas or just wiping down the fixtures, everyone seemed to have their work in order and paid no mind to the newcomer emerging from below deck.

“There you are!”

Then there was Beidou, who leaned over the railing of the top deck, grinning from ear to ear. “Was beginning to wonder how long you’d sleep!”

Even though he was late, Beidou appeared to be in high spirits. Heizou suspected she was the sort to feel more at ease on the water than on land, and it seemed his hunch was correct. The captain was all vibrant smiles and enthusiasm as she beckoned to him, “Come on up!”

Heizou flashed a grin of his own and vaulted up the steps to the bridge.

The helm was manned by someone that looked the most pirate-like out of anyone on the ship he’d seen thus far; eyepatch and bandana and all. He only gave a curt nod towards Heizou before staring straight out over the water, his hands never leaving the wheel. For a second, Heizou thought he’d offended him, as though he’d violated ship etiquette by stepping onto the bridge without reason. But Beidou had been the one to call him up, so one could assume that even if he did commit some sort of pirate faux pas, the captain herself would excuse it.

Probably.

“Sea Drake, you figure out the new route yet?”

Sea Drake’s hands remained on ten and two, utterly focused as he spoke. “They’re checking it against the weather before finalizing it.” he broke his gaze away from the water to look up at the sky. Or rather, at the center crow's nest. Heizou tried to follow his line of sight, but could barely make out the shape of the structure against the sunlight with how far up it was. Sea Drake nodded, seemingly satisfied with what he saw. “They’re wrappin’ up, I’d wager.”

“Perfect.” She gave a nod in return, “Have them bring it over when it’s finished.”

“Aye, Captain!”

That order of business done, Beidou headed for another set of steps that led to the uppermost deck, expecting Heizou to follow.

“You’re pretty banged up, ya know.” Beidou leaned against one of the support posts furthest from where the rest of the crew worked. The look she gave him was more akin to a concerned mother than a pirate queen. A side of the fierce captain that few were privy to. “You sure you’re up to workin’ today? I’m not going to hold it against you if you need a day to recover.”

That only served to make him feel more self-conscious, “Does it really look that bad?” he reached up to palpate his cheek with careful fingers, which only served to make himself wince. 

Beidou gave him a look that was nothing short of incredulous, “It looks like you lost a fight. Badly. ”

That time Heizou winced for a different reason; “You could be a bit more delicate about it.”

“Figured you were the type to like his truth without the sugar-coat.”

She had him dead to rights on that. As much as Heizou tried to hide it, he definitely did ache. The soreness from overexertion would pass if he stayed mobile, but the injuries on his face and limbs—and they were actual injuries, Heizou reminded himself. He wasn’t the only one guilty of assaulting an officer—were tender and very, very visible. He could mask a limp with practice, but not a black eye.

Heizou found a seat atop a nearby barrel and settled back on his hands. Bright sun, blue skies, a gentle breeze; it was hard not to relax when given such gifts of nature. If he were back on Inazuma, it was weather like this where he’d try to find a secluded spot—usually a tree those days, given the increase in patrols—and sneak a quick chapter or two of whatever novel he’d been reading. A reprieve from the hectic life of a detective ever on the hunt for new clues or his next case.

He could certainly do something similar on the Alcor—surely Kazuha had an idea of where to go to catch a nap—but Heizou’s mind was far from considering rest. He was there for a reason, and that reason came with a cruel reminder that such lackadaisical afternoons were behind him.

A forlorn sigh escaped his lips before he thought to stop it, “That may be the case, but I agreed to pay my way with work, and I plan to do just that.” He lowered his gaze from the sky to the deck below, watching the crew go about their day. Even the children on board seemed to be busy with one thing or another. “Besides,” he said quietly with a restless shuffle to his legs, “I need something to keep my hands busy.”

“Your hands, or your mind?”

Heizou’s eyes widened with surprise and he turned to stare at the woman. She said nothing further, just watched him like she was expecting something, like a confession or an excuse. A slide of the chess piece across a board she ruled. Beidou didn’t just have him dead to rights, she could see through him. It was almost scary, in a way, to be so exposed to someone. There was a reason Beidou was revered as one of the most fearsome pirates on the open sea, and it had just as much to do with her strength as it did her ability to outmaneuver anything that got in her way.

Intimidation aside, what Heizou felt most about her was respect . After all, a game of strategy was nothing without intuition to back it.

What he gave in response was deflection; Heizou’s own defensive strategy in top form. “Bit of column A, bit of column B?” he said with a shrug and a mischievous grin. That was his strategy; slide on the mask, put up the wall. Arms’ length was all he needed to keep up the charade.

The two were quiet for a beat longer, just staring at each other, waiting for the other to back down.

Surprisingly, it was Beidou who acquiesced. “Fine. As your captain I could order you to take the day off, but I have a feeling you’d find something to do behind my back anyway.”

Heizou’s grin only widened, “You already know me so well, Captain!”

That earned Heizou a playful shove, “Brat. I’m gonna trust you to stop if you’re hurting too much. That bruise on your stomach is no joke.”

“The bruise on—” Heizou looked down at his middle and tugged his haragake to the side. Sure enough, there was a blotchy, blue-purple bruise in the approximate shape of a shoe much like his own impressed into his abdomen just below his ribs. All soft tissue, thankfully, but still just as worrying to look at. Well that explains why bending hurts.

“Oh…well…” Heizou smoothed the fabric back in place with a nervous chuckle. Luckily, his clothes hid most of it. “Perhaps I could do something that doesn’t require the use of my core muscles?”

To that, Beidou huffed and slowly shook her head. “You’re exactly like Kaz said you’d be.”

Heizou’s wry expression was swiftly replaced with that of curiosity bordering on flustered. He recalled what Beidou said the night before about Kazuha going ashore to see him. Him, specifically. At the time he hadn’t much bandwidth to analyze the development; the fact that Kazuha had returned to Inazuma and gone back into the city with the intent of visiting him, and that he spoke enough about him that Beidou had a solid reference of his character to allow him onto the Alcor without much question. Sure, they were friends, but to refer to him in such a fond manner…

What else has he said about me?

Before he could ask her to elaborate, he was interrupted by a sudden gust of wind accompanied by the crisp scent of autumn that could only belong to one person.

“Speak of the devil!” Beidou exclaimed as Kazuha landed gracefully on the deck next to Heizou, clothes fluttering in the wind and a roll of parchment in hand. He regarded Heizou only briefly with a small smile and a nod before reporting to Beidou.

“So, what did you come up with?” Beidou pushed away from the post to huddle close to Kazuha, and rested her forearm on his shoulder.

Kazuha unrolled the parchment—a map of the sea between Inazuma and the rest of Teyvat—and handed the other end to Beidou, “Xu Liushi is in agreement with Sea Drake. This route is our best option should our previous predictions bear fruit.” he traced a bandaged finger along a path drawn in red ink, one that diverted far to the southwest of Liyue before looping back around to the harbor.

With such a drastic change in route and Kazuha’s clear involvement in its replanning, the detour must have been to avoid troublesome weather that was better navigated around rather than forded through. It looked like his suggestions were being taken seriously, which in itself was a relief. Heizou would trust Kazuha to navigate more than someone with just a compass and a pile of maps. Who better to guide the sails of a ship than the wind itself?

Beidou clucked her tongue, “Figures. That’s going to add at least four days to our trip.” Beidou frowned, but didn’t look too worried, “We planned for an extra six, so even with our new member, we should be fine even if she shows up.”

She?

It was obvious who the new member was, but who was she?

“We’ll reevaluate as we approach international waters to see where things lie.” Kazuha said with a sigh. There was a touch of unease at the edge of his tone, the telltale sign of a weighted mind. Upon closer examination of his eyes—reddened and with the beginnings of dark circles—Heizou deduced that Kazuha had, in fact, not slept. Likely due to his work on completing their new trajectory. “Let’s hope our respective predictions are wrong this time.”

The map was neatly rolled and handed off to Beidou, who accepted it with a mirthful smirk, “What, not up to the action?”

That earned her a scowl from Kazuha, “I would prefer our trip be uneventful this time around.”

The implication in Kazuha’s words were plain as day; whoever she was, she was dangerous and he didn’t want her anywhere near the Alcor. Or, specifically, Heizou himself. While Heizou wanted to assure Kazuha that he could handle whatever was thrown at him, his intuition told him to leave it be. This is something above my head. But that doesn’t mean I’m not curious…

“We’ll let it ride for now, then. Good work, Kaz.” Beidou pat Kazuha on the back. But instead of leaving him to what remained of his duties, she turned to address Heizou. “All right, ‘Zou. Go along with Kazuha to get some grub from the galley. After that I’ll introduce you to the crew and put you to work.”

Heizou blinked, Zou…? Did she just… His eyes lit up. Only a short time and he'd already earned a nickname. Familiarity over formality among crewmen of various vessels was a common theme in adventure novels, but he’d never been sure how accurate that was or how it was put into practice. It may have been insignificant to most, but receiving a nickname that wasn’t derogatory in any way was downright refreshing. It almost felt like how things were before, when his colleagues were eager for the chance to work with him and sought his counsel during the course of their own investigations. When he was still an asset and not a joke.

When exactly did all that change?

Heizou slid off the barrel and gave her a salute. “Aye, Captain!” 

A glance was exchanged between Kazuha and Beidou before she joined Sea Drake at the helm.

Once it was just the two of them, Kazuha came to lean against the barrel next to the one Heizou previously claimed. “I see you two have become fast friends.” he smiled, “Seems I had nothing to worry about.”

Heizou hopped back onto his barrel with a soft grunt, “You were worried she wouldn’t like me or something?”

“Something like that.” Kazuha notedly did not look his way, instead staring out over the water. Lost in thought, or looking for something?

Considering the rumors, I guess it is a bit of a surprise that we got on so well.

“You’re exactly like Kaz said you’d be.”

Curiosity got the better of him, “You talked about me before? To Beidou?” Direct line of questioning. Always a good way to start.

Where Heizou expected Kazuha to be avoidant, he instead turned and made direct eye contact. It took Heizou by surprise, seeing that ruby gaze squared on him, brows drawn with befuddlement. It was his answer that threw Heizou completely off his game;

“Why wouldn’t I talk about a dear friend?”

Oh.

It was such a frank response but Heizou didn’t have a follow-up. It was just so uncomplicated. So obvious. Yet it felt like fresh evidence to Heizou. All those times he thought of Kazuha as someone who only existed in his memories and fixated on the day he departed Inazuma with the assumption that he’d never see him again. The times he’d find himself reminiscing about their meetings and conversations, shared meals and the occasional mischief, knowing those moments were to stay in the past. How those thoughts made him ache with a loneliness of which he was far too accustomed.

All of that while Kazuha spoke fondly of him to his loved ones and eagerly sought him at the first opportunity. Heizou had looked upon their friendship in past tense while Kazuha spoke of the present.

That brought up a whole new line of questions that Heizou wasn’t sure he could properly parse at the time, let alone voice. And along with it a sense of guilt knowing he’d nearly written off someone who had gone to such lengths to assure his safety.

What does he mean—

The silence between them was broken by a loud, gurgling growl from Heizou’s gut, catching them both by surprise. He quickly covered his middle as though that would silence his stomach’s complaints. “Eheh…I guess I haven’t eaten since yesterday…”

Kazuha chuckled, clearly amused, and perhaps grateful to have an out from what could easily become an impromptu interrogation. “How about lunch? I could go for a bite myself.” He pushed away from the barrel to face Heizou properly. “And perhaps a cold compress for the bruises on your face? Surely you must be sore.”

He could deny it, but at that point Heizou decided it was better just to treat his discomfort instead of toughing it out. Kazuha had already shown him a sliver of vulnerability; Heizou could manage the same. “That’s…probably a good idea.” he said while gently palpating his face again. Yep, very much still swollen. “Will you give me the guided tour after?”

Again, Kazuha chuckled. His smile warmed Heizou’s face just as much as the sun did. “Of course.”

The events that led to that moment had been trying, but now things finally felt like they’d calmed down. Such relief made the weight on his shoulders just a bit more manageable. Heizou couldn’t help but smile to himself as the two headed below deck, feeling the lightest he had in some time.

Maybe I really can start over here…

Chapter Text

When Heizou was a kid, he was fond of the game Temari. Not just the act of hiding or locating them, though that certainly was fun, especially when he managed to outsmart the older children who hid the ball in unusual and hard to reach spots out of spite. But he'd always wanted to learn to make them. The complex geometric patterns and countless colorful threads were as beautiful as they were intriguing. Heizou would often find himself running his fingertips along the threads as they crossed from one pole of the globe to the other, imagining how it all came together to the perfect little package resting in his hands. One need only find a single thread to unravel the entire creation and reduce it to its base state, all that was hidden beneath the outer layers of thread laid bare for the world to see.

Not that Heizou had ever pulled apart his or anyone else's temari, but being able to trace a string and know just what to pull to undo a knot was serving him well with the tangle of fishing nets Juza had piled near the stern. Apparently the crew members that had disembarked in Inazuma had been less than stellar at taking care of the equipment, which left the Alcor with a pile of tangled hemp ropes that most definitely be of no use in catching fish for their meals. A tedious and difficult task that most sailors would want to pass off on others.

Lucky for them, Heizou was downright chuffed to be allowed at the mess. Madam Kujou once made the off comment that the quickest way to get Heizou to pipe down and sit still for five minutes was to hand him a puzzle to solve, and she was absolutely right; and he would be quite pleased about it to boot.

Heizou was perched atop a barrel with the net laid across his lap, deft fingers working to undo the massive web of rope without damaging any of it. He was making decent headway on the task; the major issue was some of the netting had come undone and needed to be properly untangled from the rest of the mass before it could be repaired. A moderate challenge, enough to keep him engaged and steadily progress. At the rate he was working, he'd have the task complete by the following evening, far faster than Juza anticipated. Success would make for a good first impression on the crew—

"Seriously? That much?"

From the corner he occupied at the back of the ship, Heizou could hear some of the crew talking as they worked through their own tasks. Thus far, it'd only been idle chatter that Heizou would occasionally eavesdrop on for the purpose of gleaning more of the high-seas life. But the shift in tone drew his attention.

The topic was far from anything to do with the sea.

"They were passing them out on the dock when we were closing up cargo. If I'd known he was on board..."

Heizou's hands froze. No, don't tell me... Heizou pressed his back to the wall, keeping as still as possible, as though they’d come around the corner at any moment to apprehend him.

"How bad was it for him to get a bounty that high on his head?"

Bounty?!

The untangled net was laid as neatly as possible on a nearby crate before Heizou slid off the barrel. He could see long shadows stretching out from around the corner. There were at least three of them, if not more. Heizou pressed himself to the wall and inched towards the corner as quietly as possible, grateful for the bamboo sandals he'd been given in lieu of his wooden ones.

"I heard a guard sayin' there was a former doushin they was looking for. Guy went off his rocker and lit the station on fire before running off."

"No way, was that where all the smoke was from last night?!"

Oh, Archons. Heizou held his breath in an attempt to keep himself calm. Keep it cool, Shikanoin. Whatever rumors get kicked up you can just explain, right? Rumors were rumors, but the truth...

"This poster says nothin' about a fire. Says he's wanted for murder." He could hear the flutter of paper in the breeze as what Heizou assumed was the aforementioned notice was passed between the men. The recipient whistled, apparently impressed. "Eight with six zeroes... Rex's pecs, you could buy your own ship for that much."

Heizou peered around the corner and finally got a glimpse of the paper in question. In the man's hand was a poster with Heizou's face on it, one that closely resembled the photo they'd taken for his file when he officially began work at the station. Bolded words framed the image;

Wanted:
For the crime of murder
Shikanoin Heizou
Bounty: 8,000,000m
Dead or Alive

...dead. Or alive.

Heizou didn't have to be a man of the law to know when a poster says "Dead or Alive", it almost always meant just "Dead".

Okay, not the end of the world. Half this crew is probably made up of petty criminals and other folks against the system. Perhaps they'll know to cast doubt on what the Tenryou Commission claims, or maybe even sympathize! Empathize! I can just explain that it was some crooked cop's inside job. Folks like these love a good conspiracy theory, right—

"Wait a minute."

Before Heizou could psych himself up enough to make himself known, one of the men took the flier and examined it more closely.

"I know this guy!"

That can't be good.

"Well, yeah, he's on the ship with us. Captain introduced him earlier."

"No, not like that, ya idiot! I mean I've met him before."

Oh, okay, could be good! Could be good still!

"He's the guy who put my brother-in-law in the slammer!"

No, nope, definitely not good. Not good at all! Shit!

"No way, seriously?! So when your sister said he was gonna be away for a couple years for "work", she meant..."

"Yeah." he shook his head. Heizou couldn't see his expression, but judging by how hard he was gripping the parchment, he definitely wasn't thrilled. He retreated back behind the wall and pressed a hand to his chin. Man alive, this is bad, he thought, panic steadily rising in his chest. Would explaining the situation even work if this guy already has an unrelated reason to despise me? Could I still sway his friends?

"So what do we do?" One man asked, tone hushed, "Do we warn the Captain? Think she knows?"

"Dunno. If she does, then she's got some explainin’."

Heizou grit his teeth. Damn it. This situation could escalate quickly and any action taken could negatively affect everyone on board, least of all myself. If I don't do something to defuse this...

"We ought to talk to her. What about Kazuha?"

"Did you need something?"

The men startled, Heizou included. He peeked back around the corner to see a fourth silhouette had joined the group. Kazuha stood there, smiling in such a way that, at a distance, one would assume he was merely curious. Delightfully befuddled, even. But Heizou knew better; the tension in his neck and jaw, the way the hand on his hip twitched, as though fiddling with a sword sheath that wasn't present, and that subtle tilt of his head as he grinned so pleasantly, and how it all set off alarm bells in his own head.

Kazuha had heard everything. Of course, he had.

"K-Kazuha! Listen, we got this before we left port." The man with the imprisoned brother-in-law took the lead and handed the wanted poster to Kazuha. "The Captain said he was your friend, but did you—"

"Know he's being pursued by the Tenryou Commission? Yes, I am aware." Oh, that tone. Mild with a snap to the delivery. Heizou was glad he wasn't the one on the receiving end; one didn’t need to be loud to be intimidating and Kazuha was irrefutable proof of this.

"S-so you know? Did you tell Captain Beidou this before you brought him on board?"

"Hm? Do you have concerns over Captain Beidou's judgment, Hotori-san?"

The man took three steps back as though he expected Kazuha to greet him with a sword to the neck. But Kazuha remained completely still with that pleasant smile on his face, as though merely discussing the weather.

"Not at all! But to have a bounty this high...the guy's gotta be dangerous! Shouldn't we—"

"Hotori-san." Kazuha's voice dropped a key and that grin shifted into just a slight smile that spoke of danger like the colors of a venomous snake; innocuous at a glance, but a clear warning if you knew what to look for. Heizou knew the signs well and knew he should fear for his safety, yet he wasn't. Instead he watched, enamored, a sudden fluttering in his chest from the thrill of seeing the side of the man that the Tenryou Commission had come to fear. Kazuha, coiled and ready to strike, and on his behalf.

"It's been some time, I know," he spoke politely, drawing from days among the upper echelon where prestige was weaponized and the target was your reputation, "But...do you recall how much my bounty was?"

"Y-your—" The two other men had begun backing away, hoping to escape and leave Hotori to take the full force of Kazuha's wrath.

"Well," Kazuha glared up at Hotori, that pleasant grin having faded to a wrathful smirk. A challenge. "Do you?" he turned to the other men, pinning them to the wall like insects with his gaze, "Or you two?"

"W-we don't remember!" One blubbered, hands up in surrender before the fight even began, "I don't remember no number! You were just here!"

"Ah, that's right. I was." His attention was back on Hotori, who took another step back in fear. Kazuha took three along with him, keeping their close proximity. "Then, it makes sense that Heizou is just here, doesn't it? That you can't remember any numbers."

Hotori looked like he was contemplating jumping the railing and swimming back to Inazuma if it meant escaping whatever Kazuha had in store for him. Instead, he nodded quickly and held the flier out for Kazuha to take. "Right! Heizou is just here! Nothin' to see, nothin' of interest! R-right, guys?" He laughed nervously, as did the others, and Heizou watched with the strangest sort of excitement he'd ever experienced rolling around his gut, and it all came from those wicked red eyes and venomous smile.

I should not find this as hot as I do.

But he did. So he watched with ardent attention as the men scuttled off in fear, leaving Kazuha with the wanted poster in hand and a glare on his face. As soon as the men were out of sight, he sighed, "I apologize, Shikanoin. I could not stand idly by."

Heizou jumped. Of course, Kazuha would know he was there...He took a slow breath to settle his racing heart before stepping out from around the corner, a bashful grin on his face. “I have to admit, you are one scary guy when you want to be.”

Kazuha gave a half shrug at that, his deceptively serene smile still in place, “Unfortunately it’s men like those who are less inclined to abide by pleasantries. A heavier hand is necessary.”

“That’s a fancy way to say threaten.”

That earned him a chuckle, “We’ll call it…a fair reminder of standing.”

“Oh, so nepotism and coercion. Two for two.” Heizou counted up on his fingers, “Pretty bold.”

“Would you have rathered I’d stayed in the crow’s nest?” The venomous grin he got for that was nearly enough to set off Heizou’s fight or flight response. Just because he’d come to his defense just moments before didn’t mean he wouldn’t turn those fangs towards Heizou if he were to cross him. Sometimes he also forgot about the bounty that was once on Kazuha’s head. The wisest solution would be to keep the swordsman’s previous notoriety in mind and stay well in his good graces, no matter how much of a thrill seeing that side of Kazuha gave him.

…I really need to stop assigning those sorts of things to Kaedehara-related things. It’s getting to be a problem.

With the prevalent danger having passed, Heizou felt himself deflate with relief.“Really, though. Thank you.” He stepped closer, the false bravado draining away from his posture, leaving an emotionally strained Heizou in want of any means of comfort, even if it was just the proximity of a kind soul. “Things could have gotten pretty ugly if you hadn’t set them straight.”

“I would not consider the situation resolved just yet.” All play left Kazuha’s expression as he handed the wanted poster to Heizou. “They certainly wasted no time in calling for your head. I’m concerned how many more made it on board.”

Heizou further deflated, but with weariness instead of relief. “I know. You were on the shogun’s most wanted list and they still waited three days before they started work on the composite.”

“Composite?”

“Yes.” With the paper in hand at last, Heizou had a chance to properly examine it, “No mugshot meant there was nothing for the lithographer to work with for the poster. They ended up having to piece together your current appearance from old photographs.”

“You mean items repossessed from the clan estate.” Kazuha’s flat tone belied his displeasure. Heizou made a mental note to ask if it was because the old photographs were used without his consent or if it was the Tenryou Commission’s possession of them in general that was upsetting. 

I wonder how much of it was still in the station…

“Yes. Well…they weren’t aware of anyone who’d had recent contact with you, and I wasn’t about to correct them.” Heizou pointed to the print of his own face on the wanted poster. “They came up with an approximation of what you looked like and the lithographer worked from that. It’s why it didn’t look quite like you. But…”

“But…?”

Heizou held a hand to his chin, tracing every line on the paper with his eyes. “My intuition says there’s something amiss with these posters.”

Upon first glance it was a typical notice of warrant with a bounty reward. But a trained eye would notice the defects quite easily. Namely the slight offset of the text and lines; letters along one side were slightly thicker than the other. The lines of the borders were fuzzy when they should have been crisp, indicating they’d applied too much ink to the stamps prior to pressing. A stray blot below the bottom text upheld that theory. A hasty job, as one would expect from wanted posters thrown together and printed en masse in a matter of hours.

But the portrait in the center was what drew his eyes. For a composite, it was nearly a perfect copy of the portrait in his station profile. Stamped, not rolled, and highly detailed for an impression made only with black ink and lines. Said lines were thin, yet still pressed clean without any bleed from the inks. A stark contrast to the rush job of the text itself.

How in the world did they get a lithograph of my portrait so quickly? One could justify such an expenditure based on the severity of the crime of the accused. But the time involved in its manufacture…

The answer was obvious.

“These posters were prepared ahead of time.” Heizou held the paper closer to Kazuha and traced the outer edges of his printed face with his fingers. “At least in part. The picture referenced is clearly the photograph kept on my file at the station. Which was likely lost in the fire.”

Kazuha nodded along, “And a lithograph would be hand-carved with the photograph as a reference. That is not a quick task. Certainly not one to be done in under twelve hours.”

“Exactly.” Heizou tapped his knuckles against the portrait, “This backs my theory that at least the station fire was premeditated. Based on the complexity of the printed portrait, I’d say at least two days lead time.”

“Then that would imply they printed these prior to the murder.” Kazuha followed Heizou’s train of thought with ease, something Heizou could appreciate.

“The portrait was, at least. The letters aren’t uniform, which would imply a haphazard print job.”

It seemed to come together in Kazuha’s head as well, “They intended to frame you for a crime all along, but didn’t know what or how much your bounty would be.”

Heizou nodded, “That is precisely my thought.”

Despite the subject matter, Heizou couldn’t help the rush of excitement he felt when the puzzle snapped together in front of him. Even if it was a small clue, it confirmed his intuition was correct, which brought a smile to his face.

It was a shame that it also confirmed that the murder and arson were inside jobs with the intent of getting him out of the way. That, and one other theory. “I believe Aoyama’s murder was not part of the plan.”

That seemed to catch Kazuha by surprise, “What makes you think that?”

Heizou thought back to the crime scene; how there’d clearly been a struggle, and the improvised weapon used to deal the fatal blow. “Initially, I considered a robbery gone wrong as the reason for the altercation. Aoyama’s throat had been slit with a shard of a glass ornament that had been broken during the scuffle.”

Kazuha crossed his arms as he came to similar conclusions as Heizou, “If the goal was to take his life, it would make sense that they’d bring their own weapon instead of improvising.”

The pieces fell into place. “Someone certainly came to visit him, but not with murderous intent. Malicious, maybe, but not murderous.”

“Collateral damage.” Kazuha concluded.

Heizou gave a grim nod. Aoyama could have been an innocent bystander, but Heizou’s intuition told him he was somehow involved with Takano’s plan. Either he’d been a willing participant, or he’d been coerced into acting.

Regardless, his death was avoidable. The thought dropped a rock into Heizou’s stomach. And he probably knew he was in danger. Archons, if I’d just gone with him…

He shook off the thought before it could pervade his other senses. It ultimately doesn’t alter my course. But… To answer his final question, Heizou turned the poster over again. The circulation of these posters would require approval from Madam Kujou…

Lower right-hand corner, an official Tenryou Clan symbol stamped in violet ink. The design was one he readily recognized.

His smile faded.

So she knows what happened. And she’s probably already under Takano’s sway.

Heizou looked out over the open water, pensively gazing far into the distance as though he could catch a glimpse of Mt. Yougou against the setting sun.

That was my last chance of exoneration. If I’d demanded to see her, or just plain ran to find her, maybe I’d…

“Shikanoin?”

Heizou was pulled from his thoughts by that gentle voice and even gentler eyes watching him, worried. He had to suppress a shiver as Kazuha’s hand brushed his bare shoulder.

That’s right. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. There’s little chance they would have allowed me to speak to Madam Kujou. They already had the noose around my neck by the time Kazuha showed up.

There wasn’t any hope for justice to begin with, was there?

Another rock dropped into his stomach and he knew he had to do something before he sank into the abyss.

“Welp!” The mask was back on and suddenly Heizou was all clever words and confident grins again. “I have to admire their tenacity! I wonder which lithographer they bribed…” Heizou thought out loud as he ripped the wanted poster into tiny pieces and let the wind take them over the portside railing. Food for the fishes, if fishes were fond of eating false accusations and police corruption.

He could feel Kazuha’s eyes on him, yet the man said nothing to his rhetorical commentary. Heizou could only theorize why, but he suspected the primary cause was pity. For him, his situation, and what lay in store for him: nothing.

I don’t want pity, he thought bitterly. Your’s, or anyone else’s.

Heizou stretched with arms high over his head, “Well then, the sun is setting and the crew has already gone below deck. I assume dinner is soon?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just set out for the stairs, his task abandoned for the remainder of the day.

“Shikanoin.”

Heizou stopped midway down the steps, but didn’t turn around. He didn’t know if he could. He knew Kazuha was standing at the top of the staircase, watching him, looking right through him, knowing that he was on the edge of crumbling no matter how much he denied it. 

Even so, he would pretend. “Hm? What is it, Kaedehara?”

“Are you all right?”

A simple question with a complex answer that he was certain Kazuha already knew.  

He flashed a brilliant grin over his shoulder. “Yeah, of course!” He lied. It was an obvious lie and Kazuha could easily see through it. But he said it anyway for his own sake. Say it enough times and I’ll believe it. Mind over matter, like always. “Just excited to get to know the crew. You’ll introduce me, right?”

Kazuha looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead he quietly came to stand at his side, “I’d be happy too.” He offered with a smile, his own mask firmly in place. “Let’s be off then.”

Without another word, the two continued onward. They fell into step with each other, side by side, yet staring ahead, focused on what lay in wait for them individually. This Heizou could handle. The companionable silence while his mind grasped at threads to bring all the clues together, a distant hope of the answers uncovering themselves if he just kept looking. But that meant withdrawing into himself, being left alone with his thoughts for better or for worse. Kazuha would understand, of that Heizou was sure. Avoidant introspection was one of the unhealthier traits they shared, but at least it came with the agreement that sometimes it was better to leave well enough alone.

It’s okay.

I’m okay.

It’s better this way.

The validity of his claims were up for debate on all sides. Heizou elected to ignore them.

I just…need to focus on what’s ahead. Yeah, all hope isn’t lost yet. I just need to remember that.

As they continued towards the mess hall, the low roar of lively conversation and laughter bounced off the hallway around them. Supposedly a majority of the ship’s occupants were gathered there; the perfect opportunity to make connections with the friendlier crew members. The more amicable ties he had, the easier things would be when they arrived in Liyue. What he’d do with those ties he hadn’t figured out just yet. But if one had to start from scratch, a base network was advantageous to have.

It all hinged on what he’d find in the mess hall and who he decided to connect with.

You can start over here; a place no one knows you.

Heizou turned to Kazuha as they walked, “So everyone takes it easy after dinner?” he asked by virtue of making idle conversation. Part to calm himself, part to convince Kazuha he was actually okay, falsehoods aside. At least he could say his smile was mostly genuine, if not apprehensive.

Kazuha only hummed in response at first and gave Heizou a sidelong glance. He seemed to be searching for something in him; what, Heizou hadn’t a clue. But after a moment, a small smile graced his lips as well, “Most, yes. Though some have work to do yet. I have taken first lookout shift myself, so I won’t return to the room until later.”

“Aw, you’re abandoning me?” Heizou elbowed him playfully as they walked, “And here I thought you’d introduce me to everyone!”

Kazuha gave him a nudge with his shoulder in return, “I’m certain you won’t have any trouble making conversation. But I suggest you avoid talk of your work, at least for now.”

“Well that removes ninety percent of my talking points…” Heizou pouted for show, but internally he was struck with worry. Of course he couldn’t speak of his work as a doushin or a detective just yet. Not without careful maneuvering to avoid being found out. Being on Hotori’s radar was already going to make things difficult even with Kazuha’s threats to keep him in line.

Sensing his worry, Kazuha paused right before the double doors that led to the mess hall. “Surely you have more to say for yourself than your work, right?”

The question took the proverbial wind from his sails. He stood there mere meters away from his chance to start anew with friendly faces on his side, and suddenly he couldn’t think of what to talk about. Most of his topics of conversation were of his work, related to work, or tangentially connected to his work. The elaborate retellings that would make entertaining and impressive tales to share with his new acquaintances were all of his investigations and their related travels. Sure, he could navigate around those points and still tell the tale, but stripping so many details could leave the story with nothing.

The heavy realization dawned on him like a third rock in the stomach; so much of his life—his job, his aspirations, his passions, his travels, victories, losses, friends, enemies, everything in between—could all be traced back to his life as a detective.

So much of his everything, his very identity, was built around being not just a detective, but a successful one. A detective that solved hundreds of cases no one else could, who’s prowess would eventually be revered enough to stifle crime before it happened. The last hope for a resolution to a hopeless case. Take all that away—

—and what’s left of me?

It was a realization that he didn’t think he could handle after everything else that had happened in the previous 24 hours. Not without risking drowning in his own mind.

There was no time for internal panic. Heizou squashed those thoughts down as Kazuha pushed open the doors.

They were met with the bustle of the crew winding down from a long day. They gathered around round tables, shared bread and liquor while waiting for their food to be brought from the galley. Enthusiastic conversation, tall tales, bragging rights, reminiscing, filled the empty space of the room with a myriad of lifetimes’ of events. The sort of place you could lose yourself in just observing, learning about the people around you without speaking. Perfect for someone who, as it turned out, was going to struggle for a “safe” topic of conversation.

Yet all of it came to a hush as the two entered the room.

An unsettling stillness overtook the once lively atmosphere as every head in the room turned towards them. Standing at the threshold, both Kazuha and Heizou stared out over a crowd that stared back at them with an array of expressions; apprehension, guilt, fear, and rage. Yet not a one said a word, only remained unmoving as though waiting for someone else to act.

It didn't take long before Heizou realized they weren't staring at Kazuha, but him.

A sense of unease rose along with the tension. It was Heizou’s turn to be pinned to the wall, a still living, writhing insect waiting to perish from starvation and injury and anguish as cruel eyes watched on without compassion.

But why?

The answer was right in front of him, plain as day;

Tacked to the center support beam, with no less than six sailors gathered around it, was a notice with his face on it.

Wanted, dead or alive.

Chapter Text

There had been a number of occasions where Heizou had been up against something he couldn’t readily handle. The time he tracked a troupe of smugglers to their dropsite and had gotten caught upon his escape. Or the time he’d run across a group of nobushi as they hassled some tourists and wasn’t able to talk them out of their intended mugging. Or even the man that had just burglarized Shimura’s restaurant who came to the conclusion that holding a kid hostage was the best way to get the doushin off his back long enough for him to escape.

And by kid Heizou meant himself and man alive, he wasn’t that short, right? And he was well capable of fighting the desperate man off, just as he did the smugglers and nobushi, even if it did leave a bad taste in his mouth. Heizou didn’t like resorting to fighting to get himself out of a situation. It meant he failed in properly utilizing his greatest weapon and that in itself was demoralizing even if a proper arrest was made in the end.

Violence wasn’t the answer, and certainly not when said violence would be against nearly the entire crew of a pirate ship. A pirate ship that was presently in the middle of the ocean, days from land, with him on it. Yet there he was at center stage of the unfortunate scenario with little more than a prayer that diplomacy would win out in the end.

The men standing around the pillar were staring him down, each with a scowl ranging from incredulous to seething. Judging from their attire, two of the six were Inazuman; people who were most likely to know of him and his exploits. To make matters worse, any notably friendly parties were absent; Beidou was above deck still and Juza likely with her. Their lack of presence—and their support for that matter—would make any negotiations for his safety much more difficult.

Thankfully, he wasn’t facing down the crowd alone;

“What is the meaning of this, Hotori?” Kazuha stood firm at his side, his voice low in warning. There was no smile with the threat, no pretenses of pleasantry. Just an icy glare from those normally warm, crimson eyes.

From behind the six came a terrified yelp and Hotori—brave dead man, he was—rapidly shook his head, “I didn’t do it! I mean, I…I didn’t mean to—!” he quickly gave up on any defense and instead ducked behind the nearest, burliest sailor for protection. Seems he knew exactly who would incur Kazuha’s wrath now that word got out about Heizou’s predicament. And judging by the clench of Kazuha’s jaw, he could confirm that said wrath was imminent should things go too far south.

Heizou needed to prevent that from happening. Fast.

“Now, now, everyone…Let’s not do anything rash…” Heizou held his hands up in defense, doing his best to keep the nervous chuckle out of his voice. Normally he had no trouble talking to people and addressing groups at large, but after the events of the previous evening, even the prospect of standing in front of a less than favorable crowd filled him with dread. He swallowed thickly and tried not to focus on the number of people glaring at him, how many were poised for a fight, convinced he was an unchecked murderer that hid among them, and Archons, please don’t let any of them have rope. Please, I can’t—

Breathe, Shikanoin, he said to himself in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Kazuha’s. This isn’t Takano and his lackeys. Beidou wouldn’t let anyone she didn’t trust on board

Heizou drew a slow breath and gave his usual guileless smile, “I know what this looks like, but—”

“Kaz, what the hell’re ya thinkin’?” The man at the head of the pack—broad shouldered, shaved head, tip of his left ear missing, somehow familiar —was first to address them. His outrage didn’t appear to be entirely aimed towards him, but Kazuha as well. Actually, mostly Kazuha. Neither of them so much as looked at Heizou as they spoke. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.” Kazuha gave Heizou’s shoulder a squeeze as he stepped in front of him, purposefully placing himself in the path of any danger that would come their way. “He is my guest. Is there an issue with that?” He asked, tone quiet yet firm and very much a warning. Though he couldn’t see his face, Heizou could imagine the murderous intent present in Kazuha’s eyes as he stared down their proclaimed opposition. He was simultaneously grateful and disappointed he wasn’t able to see it for himself.

Its impact was apparent; while it appeared most of the crowd took that obvious message to back down without protest, the two brave (read: foolish ) men from Inazuma continued to stand their ground. Heizou had to admire their tenacity, especially in the face of who was once at the top of the Shogun’s Most Wanted list, along with an apparent contender for the title.

“You can’t be serious.” The other Inazuman spoke. Stocky, rough skin, an intricate tattoo of stylized eyes running up his right arm, and pointing accusingly at Heizou while scowling at Kazuha, “As if it wasn’t enough to invite that doushin on board, he’s a murderer on top of that?”

“Hold on, now, I was framed.” Heizou quickly interjected in an attempt to deter the spread of the false allegations. He couldn’t risk the crowd being swayed by misinformation like the night before. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and—”

The tattooed man cut him off before he could explain the full story, “You seriously believe that?” He asked Kazuha, seemingly aghast by it all. It was understandable that the man would look to Kazuha as the source of truth over Heizou, but he could do without the rude interruptions. Talking over him, avoiding even looking at him, as though he wasn’t there at all.

No, it wasn’t that he wasn’t there. It was that they didn’t care to hear him or his defense. He was there but he didn’t matter.

The realization was as unnerving as it was frustrating.

Don’t just ignore me, damn it!

“Yes, I do.” Kazuha said with a note of finality. He took two long steps closer to the petulant men and watched as most in the crowd took two steps back, as if staying out of arm’s reach would be enough to save them from the man’s wrath.

The tattooed man and his tall, loud companion didn’t back down. A historically bad decision from what Heizou (and everyone else in the room) had seen of the samurai. “For that much mora, I don’t care if he's a saint.” The tattooed man scoffed, “The way I see it, if the Tenryou Commission wants their prized bloodhound put down, we might as well get paid for it. Serves ‘im right.”

It was Heizou’s turn to be aghast, “Hey, that’s a bit uncalled for, isn’t it?” Or is it? It occurred to him that the man’s attitude towards him was abnormally aggressive. Both men he recognized to an extent, but from where and in what context Heizou needed to figure out. This isn’t just about my alleged crime. This is more personal to them somehow.

“Quit your yappin’, shogunate dog!” Again the man dismissed him without so much as looking his way.

“I would implore you to back off—” warned Kazuha, voice rising.

Heizou scowled at the men, teeth gritted and jaw tight with frustration. Damn it, I can’t even get a word in inch-wise with this guy! And Kaedehara is going to snap if things get much worse. For a moment, Heizou weighed the option of continuing to attempt diplomacy against just slugging the guy to get his point across. It was clear both men—the tattooed fellow, especially—wouldn’t concede as things stood. Maybe the percussive approach would be more effective…

The thought was promptly shaken off. No, no, de-escalate, Shikanoin. We are not trying to start a brawl on a pirate ship. We are de-escalating the situation. You still got your best weapon at hand. Use it!

As the crew watched the heated exchange between the three Inazuman men—which mostly consisted of the tattooed guy taking out whatever grudge he had against Heizou on Kazuha while Kazuha staunchly defended him—Heizou stood back and allowed himself a moment to just think.

Okay, from the top.

Male, mid-to-late forties, obvious beef with the doushin, and probably me, specifically. On the Crux Fleet so we can assume a level of skill and possibly a rocky job history…

Heizou thought back as far as he could through dozens upon dozens of cases he’d had his hands on over the years. Both men would be recognizable with their unique appearances, surely he could come up with a match.

Stout, rough demeanor, dialect that sounds like it’s from one of the outer islands, unusual tattoo, scar under left eye—

Rifling through his mental filing cabinet of suspects bore fruit: the tattooed man’s identity.

A former smuggler turned drunkard who’d most recently been charged with assault after a bar fight ended with the guards involved. By my math, he would have been released less than a month ago. I haven’t seen much of him after I helped bust that smuggling operation a few years back. But his family…ah, right, his wife!

“Wait a minute. You’re Okamoto, right?”

The whole room turned its attention to Heizou. Including Kazuha, who’s wide-eyed stare was filled with questions like: ‘ wait, what are you doing?’, ‘ please tell me you have a plan’, and ‘please tell me there’s a plan B.’

The answer to all three was barely, but I know you have my back, so here goes.

“Okamoto Daichi. Your wife is Fuyuko?” Heizou donned his friendliest smile as he slowly approached the apparent ex-convict, “Man, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

For the first time since the altercation began, the tattooed man actually looked him in the eye and addressed him directly. “What about my wife?”

Good. I have his attention. Now, to use those social skills Nana says I don’t have to create a sense of fellowship between us.

“Last time we met up, she said you wanted to turn over a new leaf, so I helped her with your appeal again. How is she?” If I can just make some kind of positive connection, I can get everyone to calm down. Then they’ll listen to me and it’ll just be convincing them not to—

“You tell me.” Okamoto all but growled. “I went and got myself a good, solid gig and come back to an empty house. Landlady said she went back home to her parents. Did you help her with that too?”

Shit.

He’s estranged from his wife now. Wonderful. Did not get that memo. That chucked a wrench into the works. Heizou dug deeper into the man’s record in his mind in hopes to find a reason why she left, aside from Okamoto being in and out of prison for several years. Let’s see…she’d mentioned not feeling well and that she thought there was something going on but…shit, that had to be almost six months ago, what was it she said? Okay, maybe if I just commiserate a bit… “She did? Oh, man, that’s…rough. Real rough. I’m sorry to hear that Oka—gah!”

Heizou was cut off again by a large fist grabbing his shirt and yanking hard enough to knock him off his feet. Okamoto had abandoned his efforts to rile up Kazuha and instead took to addressing Heizou physically. “As if lockin’ me up wasn’t good enough, ya had and go ruin the only good thing I had goin’. But that’s a hobby of yours, isn’t it?”

Heizou had wanted to avoid a physical altercation, but Okamoto clearly had other plans. The sudden rough-handling sent all his senses off-kilter. All but dangling from the man’s fist, the straps and clasps of his shirt pulled taut, digging into his bare back and sides while revealing the bruises and welts already present for all to see. His feet shuffled uselessly beneath him, tip-toes barely scraping the wood, searching for purchase. He was completely at his mercy, unable to do anything save for brace for impact and pray the man didn’t strike an existing injury.

Protests and denials collected on his tongue yet none made it past his lips. Heizou knew he needed to keep talking to smooth things over, but all he could focus on was the man’s grip on him and how close his face was to his. The heat of his breath blew across his face and neck in hot bursts, an uncomfortable moistness left behind along with insults to his integrity.

Whatever he was yelling, it was getting harder to hear him with each passing breath. The noise around him was muffled and hollow, drowned out by the thudding of his own heart against his ears. Everyone around him watched and waited, ready to surround him, grab him and hold him down and scream at him and I didn’t do it I didn’t do it please believe me please please let me go let me go let me go—

“Let go of him, Okamoto!”

The grip on his shirt was released, leaving Heizou to stumble and sway while he tried to remember how his lungs worked. He could make out Kazuha's voice in the panic-induced haze, shouting words he couldn't process. But in his mind, he heard him clearly; Breathe, Shikanoin.

Heizou lifted his head and attempted to gain his bearings. The first thing his fuzzy senses registered was someone— Beidou?— at his side, a tentative hand on his shoulder. The second was Okamoto half folded on himself with Kazuha wrenching his arm behind his back, his knee digging between his shoulder blades and murderous intent on full display.

Fuck…what was…what was I…  

“Stand down. I am no longer asking.” Kazuha seethed and tightened his grip. Okamoto struggled against his hold, clearly trying to overpower the shorter man. But what Kazuha lacked in height he made up for with combat finesse.

Actually, I think I taught him that hold…Shit, he’s going to dislocate his shoulder if he goes much further. Heizou shook off what he could of the haze and tried to jumpstart his brain. If things weren’t resolved quickly, they actually would have a brawl to deal with. C’mon, Shikanoin, what was it about his wife—

Wait, I remember!

“Okamoto—” Heizou winced at how winded he sounded but pressed on regardless, “Fuyuko didn’t walk out on you.”

Again the attention shifted to Heizou. Okamoto, nearly kneeling at that point thanks to Kazuha’s knee in his spine, still somehow found the strength to belittle him, “What the hell are ya talkin’ about, mutt?”

Heizou pointedly ignored the insult, “I last spoke with her six months ago when she requested my help filing another appeal for your sentence. At the time she was feeling unwell and mentioned she’d go back to her folks’ house in the country if her suspicions turned out to be true, but she said she wanted to bring you home first.”

“What?” Okamoto’s demeanor shifted from enraged ex-convict to frazzled husband in a blink. “What are you talking about? Fuyuko is sick? What—”

“Not sick.” Heizou quickly interjected to assuage his fears before they too could escalate into anger. For the first time since he entered the room, he actually felt he had some control over the situation. That did a lot to calm his own mind, as did delivering the rare positive outcome of his on-the-fly investigation, “She’s with child. At this point she’s probably seven or eight months along.”

That news created a completely different stir among the onlookers. “She’s…” Okamoto gawked, “She went home to have a baby?”

Heizou nodded, “Your appeal was delayed by several weeks due to an administrative oversight and she probably couldn’t wait anymore.” He put a hand on his hip and another to his chin, “If memory serves, this would be your first child. At such an age, she wouldn’t want to risk a delivery without support.”

Around them, the whispers evolved into light-hearted chatter. In turn, the smile on Heizou’s face grew.

This is exactly what we needed.

“My intuition says the elderly landlady simply forgot that detail given the length of time between her departure and your release.” With a nod and note of cheer to his tone he continued, “Fuyuko didn’t leave you. She put in all that extra work to bring you home sooner, and those appeals aren’t exactly easy.”

Okamoto remained on the floor, stunned and slack-jawed at the reveal. Assuming he was no longer a threat, Kazuha released the older man and returned to Heizou’s side, nodding to him as he did.

“I’m…I’m gonna be a dad?” Okamoto said out loud to himself, as though trying to prove it was real by speaking it, “I’m finally gonna be a dad?”

Heizou absolutely beamed, ”You are, and I’m betting Fuyuko’s at her parents’ home waiting everyday for you to come up the trail so you three can be a proper family. So be sure to catch the first boat back to Inazuma once we get to Liyue. Wouldn’t want to miss the delivery, right?” He winked at the stunned man, his confidence returning, if only in a small measure.

From the thick of the crowd, Hotori bolted out and slung an arm around Okamoto’s shoulder, “Listen to that! Congratulations, Daichi! I hope the baby looks more like Fuyu-chan than you.”

Okamoto didn’t even react to the obvious jab. He simply stared at his own hands with a grin growing on his face. It was rare for Heizou to see a smile after explaining his findings. It was a nice change. A needed change after so long being made to feel like an awful person for just helping people.

The chatter exchanged among the crowd was no longer of fearful whispers and barely contained spite, but rather of light-hearted jokes and good tidings for the father to be. It was exactly the shift in mood they needed.

Now don’t fuck it up.

Swallowing his lingering anxiety, Heizou tentatively approached Okamoto who had yet to budge. “Listen, Okamoto.” His voice was softer now, warmer as he sought to stand on common ground alongside this man and the many others in his shoes. “I know we’ve had our differences, but we’re both here to go on with our lives and get back to what we care about.” It was a similarity that Heizou hadn’t expected to find; both victims of unfortunate circumstances only partially of their own doing, seeking normalcy in the comfort of their heart’s home. Okamoto to his wife and future child, and Heizou…

…what am I going back to…? What do I have to go back to…?

A hand gently laid on the small of his back, drawing his focus back to the conversation before he could fall into his own mind again. At his side, Kazuha offered a smile, still apprehensive but no longer tinged with anger. A silent message conveyed; “You’re doing well.”

It made Heizou’s heart race for a different reason.

“We have our own circumstances, so let’s let bygones be bygones.” Heizou extended his hand to Okamoto, who watched him carefully for a moment, the conflict clear on his face.

“...What makes you think I won’t sell ya out anyway?” He asked quietly, much in the way Heizou had his own query, “Just drag you on the boat back to Inazuma with me. Could support a baby for a long time with that mora.”

“Because you wouldn’t.”

His answer caught everyone off guard not for its claims but for how confident Heizou was as he said it. No hesitation, not a hint of malice. Just a statement of fact.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t. You’d be sending an innocent man to his grave for mora.” It was a possibility he’d considered and Heizou was certain only a few would ultimately blame him if he were to go back on his word. If he was up against a nameless nobushi, Heizou would be concerned, but before this man?

He wanted to believe him. Believe in him and the strides he’d taken to repent.

”If you were the type of person to do that, Fuyuko wouldn’t have worked so hard to bring you home, and Captain Beidou wouldn’t have allowed you on the ship in the first place.”

And that was the truth of it. In his time as a detective—even just as a person —Heizou had learned that for every malicious actor, there was someone trying to right the course of their life. A criminal serving their sentence, an ex-convict fighting for the chance to become a normal, upstanding citizen, or even someone living in the gray in-between of law and lawlessness just trying to survive.

It was those people that needed help most of all. His intuition said that Beidou felt the same, as did many others among the Crux Fleet.

His words struck a chord with everyone in the room, even Beidou herself. So many doushin were convinced that criminals were inherently evil and unable to resist the urge to commit crimes for crimes’ sake. But Heizou wanted to keep such situations from ever happening at all, and that meant helping former criminals in finding their way.

Another beat passed. Then at last, Okamoto accepted Heizou’s outstretched hand. “Fine. For  Fuyuko.” The gap in their circumstances bridged and a mutual understanding reached.

And so the crowd dispersed to their individual seats and the bustle of evening chatter continued as though the heated conversation they’d just witnessed had not nearly come to blows. The problem of Heizou’s bounty and the allegations against him still hung in the air, but something told him they’d be set aside for the time being, along with their differences.

Save for the tall, docked-eared Inazuman. Though he’d spoken out first, he’d stayed back once the situation escalated beyond harsh words, standing at the side with arms crossed and glare aimed squarely at him. Heizou suspected it was either because Okamoto had taken such a vocal stance against him, or because Kazuha was so quick to get involved. Even if his judgment had been called into question, few were willing to confront Kazuha. Though he held no official title or rank, he’d proven himself worthy of their respect. Not necessarily for any attempt at amicability, but rather they didn’t want to be on the bad side of the man known for countering the Shogun herself.

The docked-eared Inazuman didn’t seem inclined to back down until Beidou herself stepped in, “Sounds like we got somethin’ to celebrate!” She proclaimed with a hearty laugh, “This guy’s finally gonna be a father! Congratulations, Daichi.” The crew around her gave a resounding hurrah in agreement and corralled what remained of the stragglers towards the dining tables again.

The poster was ripped from its tacks without fanfare and crumpled into Beidou’s fist before she joined the rest of her men.

And that’s all she wrote.

Once there were no longer dozens of eyes on him, Heizou finally exhaled. That was…terrifying. The admission was expected but not at all desired. Even though he’d spent the day in the relative safety of the Alcor and her crew, the events of the previous night had crept back into the forefront of his mind.

It’d only taken minutes of Takano’s accusations to turn everyone against him and he almost lost his life as a result. How easy would it have been for Okamoto to do the same? He had tangible fuel to add to the fire by the way of the wanted posters, and a backing at least among the Inazumans on the ship. If one considered how many other crew members had their own run-ins with law enforcement, or were simply afraid of what Heizou was capable of…

It would’ve been a mutiny, Heizou realized. And I’d have nowhere to run. And Kazuha…

Heizou shuddered. Try as he might, he could not ignore the tremor in his limbs and the dizzyingly incoherent thoughts circulating his mind. It’d been the second time in 24 hours that he’d been forced to defend himself to a crowd that refused to listen, with his own execution imminent should he fail to convince them of his innocence. The difference between the two admittedly traumatic events was Kazuha’s presence.

When up against an entire crew of pirates, Kazuha stepped in line to shield him without an ounce of hesitation. When Okamoto’s hold on him left him prone and fearful of being struck, Kazuha had removed the assailant bodily and restrained him until he conceded.

If Kazuha hadn’t protected me…

If Beidou hadn’t shown up when she did…

If I hadn’t managed to talk my way out of it…

…where would I be? What would they have done to me?

Dozens of scenarios raced through his mind one after another. They could have held him down and beaten him into submission before tossing him into the brig. They could have dragged him to the deck and tied him to the center mast and allowed him to succumb to the elements while they watched. They could have looped the rope around his neck and lifted him higher and higher so his final moments would be spent overlooking the vast ocean and the jeering crew below him as he slowly and agonizingly suffocated.

What will happen if I let my guard down? Talk to the wrong person?

Will I be able to talk them down again? What if it’s like last time? What if they don’t care—

“Shikanoin—”

With a gasp Heizou blinked the world back into focus. Instinctively his eyes darted around the room in search of any potential aggressors, body drawn taut and ready to…

Ready to…

There were no aggressors, no one laying in wait for him to let his guard down. No one prepared to bring him down out of some ill-conceived notion of revenge. No one even so much as looked at him, with disdain or disinterest or otherwise. There was only Kazuha, who stalwartly shielded him from prying eyes with his own body.

Heizou snapped out of his daze and realized Kazuha was still at his side, one hand resting at the small of his back, the other gently grasping his wrist. Heizou hadn’t realized how badly he was trembling until that steadying hand slid into his grip. Absently he registered the pressure at his back coaxing him to move and the gentle guidance of a callused hand twined with his own. The touch of skin and the warmth of Kazuha’s fingers pulled him to the present and reminded him he was unharmed and not alone and that he needed to breathe.

Heizou felt his back bump the wall and he allowed himself to be lowered into sitting. Kazuha joined him, not once letting go of Heizou’s hand.

It felt like hours passed before either of them spoke, “Are you with me?” Kazuha asked, his voice hushed in comparison to the din of the mess hall, yet Heizou felt he could hear it clear as day.

“Y…Yeah, I…” he muttered in return, his mind finally processing where he was and what he’d just experienced. Kazuha had brought him just past the threshold between the mess hall to the corridor connecting it and the main deck. From the new angle, Kazuha could still see the room’s inhabitants but allowed Heizou a bit of privacy as he came down.

The sentiment was appreciated far more than Heizou had the ability to convey at the time.

Heizou sat up from where he had sagged against the wall and shook off what was left of the stupor he’d landed himself in. “Sorry, I was…” Heizou plastered what he hoped was a sufficiently convincing grin on his face and cleared his throat. He prayed that would be enough to will away the tremor in his voice. “Just spacing out a bit.”

Kazuha looked less than convinced, “If that’s what you call  just spacing out , I do have to wonder how severe a crisis must be for you to consider it serious.” he sighed and made himself comfortable on his knees in front of Heizou, hands still clasped tightly in his. “How are you feeling?”

What a loaded question. “I’m…fine? I’m fine. Just that adrenaline, y’know?” He forced a chuckle.

“Shikanoin…”

“But we managed to turn it all around at the last possible second. Brilliant work, Kaedehara. A stunning performance.” He smirked with a wink at Kazuha, “One could not ask for a better Assistant.”

“Shikanoin.”

“Hm? No good? Then how about—”

“Shikanoin Heizou.”

The use of his full name derailed his deflective rambling, leaving stunned silence in its wake. Heizou watched as Kazuha stared at him with lips drawn into a thin line of silence, his eyes speaking for him instead. Worry, frustration, regret, disappointment… in Heizou, or himself?

The man had something to say, but he had a feeling when that mouth opened there’d be no flowers among his words.

Heizou quickly averted his gaze. He could manipulate and mislead if it meant he’d get one step closer to the truth, but he had never been good at lying.

No, that wasn’t true. He was good at lying. He did it every day in the mirror. But he could never lie to Kazuha, not in any way that mattered.

Heizou let out a slow breath, still avoiding eye contact. “I’m…I’m fine, Kaedehara. Just shaken up.”

Neither one of them believed him. That much was clear.

After a moment longer, Kazuha sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, then rested his knuckles against his lips, contemplative as he scanned the room. “It’s quite crowded today, don’t you think?” He finally looked his way again and Heizou felt a wave of relief when he almost smiled. “If I ask Beidou, I’m sure she’ll allow us to dine in her quarters.”

Heizou briefly glanced around the room himself in search of an empty seat. Most of the tables had at least a few people at them already. As much of a gain as camaraderie would be in their situation, Heizou wasn’t sure he could stomach being in close quarters with anyone except Kazuha at the moment.

It was the most solid plan they had, Heizou had to admit. He’d been in and out of what he was sure qualified as a panic attack if not a full blown dissociative episode so for all intents and purposes taking the opportunity to dine someplace quiet and private would benefit them both. That, and he really, really didn’t want to let go of Kazuha’s hand for fear his he’d never get to experience such warmth again.

“Yeah that’s—”

“Excuse me.”

The grip on Kazuha’s hand tightened as if that was the only thing keeping Heizou from leaping out of his skin in surprise. Both heads swiveled around to see who had interrupted them. And by Kazuha’s expression, wondered if the man had a death wish.

Considering it was Hotori, the answer may have been a yes. “Sorry to interrupt your, uh…” his gaze pointedly dropped to their joined hands and coughed, “...moment, but I wanted to extend an oak branch to the two of ya.”

“You mean an olive branch.” Kazuha corrected, completely deadpan. He definitely had not forgotten what mayhem this man wrought in the last forty-five minutes and there was still an IOU for Kazuha’s wrath with Hotori’s name on it.

Hotori swallowed what might have been a whimper, “R-right, olive uh…” he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, “Listen, I feel terrible. I didn’t actually go blabbing to the others. Someone else had already hung the poster up by the time we got here. I swear!”

Kazuha looked like he really wanted to refute that, but doing so would be chasing an argument at best and burning a bridge at worst. Neither were worth it, not when they were still several days from land. Heizou squeezed Kazuha’s fingers in hopes that would be enough to communicate his thoughts; “Hear him out.”

The sigh he got in return was the closest he’d get to an answer, “It is not for me to decide who accepts this branch of yours.” Kazuha’s voice was level as he spoke, his expression schooled into neutrality. Heizou imagined if he hadn’t, it’d show how badly he wanted to clock the man for being involved and still having the gall to talk with them casually after. His attention turned to Heizou, a squeeze to his fingers in return, “You’ve yet to apologize for your actions, nor have they. Or are you intending to be their messenger?”

The man noticeably winced and Heizou actually felt bad for him. His intuition told him he was low enough in the pecking order that he probably got steamrolled by the others’ outrage. In the case of mob mentality, there’s always someone who got swept up against their will. Heizou assumed that was the situation with Hotori.

“H-hey, I—” Kazuha’s severe expression startled the excuses right out of Hotori. Suddenly the frazzled man dropped into a bow so far that for a second Heizou thought he’d end up with his head between his knees. “I’m deeply sorry for the trouble I’ve caused! Please join my friends and I for a meal!”

Aha, so he was sent to smooth things over too. Both Kazuha and Heizou sighed and exchanged glances; Kazuha’s filled with doubt and hesitation to counter Heizou’s curiosity and…hope. There was hope there in spite of everything. I wanted to believe Okamoto, so…I’ll believe Hotori too. He has at least apologized. As much was said to Kazuha with a simple shrug, “It’s a place to sit?”

The almost pout on Kazuha’s face remained for just a second longer before he managed a small smile for Heizou. “That it is. Let’s join them, then?”

The two of them followed Hotori as he wove through the crowded mess hall towards a mostly filled table that occupied the corner with one of the few windows in the room. The Inazuman men that had accompanied Hotori on deck were now squeezed close to both sides of Okamoto as they plied him with what Heizou assumed was ale of some kind. The brusque man from moments ago had been replaced with a bashful but pleasantly overwhelmed expecting father. It was a shock to see such a turnaround over just a bit of good news, but Heizou supposed that’s all someone would need to break the cycle of hatred.

It was a welcome change, one Heizou was happy to see. A celebration of life that didn’t revolve around a funeral shroud. A reformed criminal with a family grateful for his aid instead of embittered for his role in uprooting their lives.

As much of a relief it was, it did little to stop Heizou from feeling anxious about sitting at the crowded table with the men responsible for nearly starting a riot over his presence. Part of him would defend that it wasn’t a big deal; he could handle crowds. He was good at handling people, even if they weren’t so fond of him for it. But as soon as he was guided to sit on one of the benches, he felt what little confidence he’d mustered just by seeing how little space there was for one person, let alone two.

Especially when he realized they’d be sandwiched next to the tall, docked-eared Inazuman from before. The one Heizou recognized but could not place. That in itself had him on edge. Heizou recognizing anyone so readily and not having an explanation usually meant a less than favorable run-in between the two parties.

Heizou fidgeted with his still untucked top, already missing the comfort and sense of stability gained from having Kazuha’s hand in his.

“Hey~ It’s Kaz and Zou!” The man presently pressed to Okamoto’s right flashed a bright grin at the two as though they were old pals. Judging from the flush already present on his face, the alcohol contributed to that impression. “Come sit! Have a drink! Kaz, I know you drink. Zou, do you drink? You’re old enough to drink, right?” He held a hand up as though to measure the heights of the two.

Heizou caught the pout before it made it to his lips and twisted it into a confident smirk, “Don’t let my size fool you. I’m no slouch when it comes to alcohol. Being able to hold one’s liquor is imperative for the successful gathering of intel, afterall.” the explanation flew from his lips before he could think better of it. It was only when he got a few stares from the table and a subtle elbow from Kazuha did Heizou remember their discussion about not bringing up his work, even if it was no longer a secret that he was a (former) doushin.

But before any panic could settle in, Hotori just laughed, “You sound like one of them light novels. The detective ones with the dead heiress where it was the butler all along.”

“The head maid, actually!” The liquor-ladened man corrected.

“You would know that, Akechi.” Countered Hotori. It was all light banter, friendly teasing, and laughter amongst friends. He’d witnessed such conversations hundreds of times, but it was so rare that he was included in a way that didn’t make him the butt of the joke. It brought a genuine smile to his lips and eased the tension from his shoulders. Heizou glanced to his side to see what Kazuha thought, only to discover he was smiling at the scene too, but his attention hadn’t been trained on the men at the table.

“Hey, Zou! Haha…Hey-zou…” Okamoto, who was clearly more inebriated than the others, flashed a goofy grin and beckoned him closer, “Ya got some good stories, right? Better than Akechi’s light novels?”

By the look of sheer elation on Heizou’s face, one would think he’d been handed his own bounty’s worth in mora. Someone wanted to hear about his cases? Someone that wasn’t just Kaedehara?

The look of joy was shared with Kazuha, who nodded with a broad smile and a chuckle, as though to say “Go on.”

Heizou reigned in his excitement and schooled his expression to that of the cool, confident ace detective in the very novels he intended to outshine, “Well, I do have a few interesting ta—”

WHAM!

The sudden slamming of hands against wood coupled with the clatter of silverware stole what thunder Heizou had mustered and dropped it into a bucket of viscous dread. The entire table—and those surrounding it—stared in stunned silence as the tall, docked-eared Inazuman stood, towering over the table with his head bowed. His nostrils flared with each breath and Heizou could tell by the tension in his arms and shoulders that he was seconds away from boiling over with rage.

Then he was looking at him, a deep loathing etched into each wrinkle and scar on his face. Heizou took a step back, bumping against Kazuha, who placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. The man towered over the two of them, scowling as if Heizou had sacrificed his first born for some pointless ritual or something equally heinous. All the while, Heizou desperately tried to place the man among the hundreds of mugshots filed away in his mind.

None. He matched none of them.

The man worked his jaw as though resisting the urge to scream at him, and Heizou braced for it. Whatever verbal onslaught the man aimed at him, he’d just have to endure. He’d managed to earn a modicum of solidarity amongst these men, he couldn’t just throw it all out now because of someone’s temper. It’s just like before. They’re all words and hot air. No action. I can handle this. I’m fine. Just breathe, Shikanoin. Breathe.

No shouts came, instead the man simply snarled at the two of them before storming through the dumbfounded onlookers and out the door.

Heizou waited until the chatter resumed to exhale. “Man alive…Three heart attacks in one day…” He leaned back against Kazuha, whose hand slid from his shoulder to forearm, as though seeking Heizou’s own again.

Hotori sighed, “That guy…” he shook his head, but didn’t look upset by the man’s tantrum. He just looked…sad. But why?

It was then that Hotori offered a sympathetic look towards Heizou. “Sorry about that, Zou.” he tried to smile, but it was strained at best. “Umehara’s been on edge since he got the news about his little girl.”

Chapter Text

At first glance, the notebook Heizou kept with him at all times was little more than an ordinary journal. But in reality, it was one of his most used investigative tools.

It’d been a birthday gift from Sango, of all people. Made of fine leather, supposedly cured by an artisan residing in the highlands of Mondstadt, and tanned a deep burgundy. A color that, at the time, matched his favorite haori. Small enough to keep on his person without impeding his movements and sturdy enough to hold up against the heavy use associated with a detective actively working a case. “A proper detective takes notes. Even so-called genius ones.” she’d said, refusing to make eye contact as Heizou held the notebook in both hands, rendered speechless at the thoughtful gift.

It was a backwards compliment, but its intended meaning went deeper; As smart as he was, Heizou wasn’t infallible.

Back then it felt like Sango was the only one that knew that. She made sure Heizou knew it too. As a jab at his self-assuredness or a reminder that the sign on the building had her name on it first and his second. They were supposed to work together. A team .

He’d never admit it to her face how much he appreciated that sentiment.

Now they were practically strangers. The rift between them flowed thick with bad blood and venom in place of conversation. But even with their bad terms, Heizou kept the notebook both for its usefulness and the fond memory attached.

He had filled and replaced the pages twice. The third set—almost half of which had been reduced to diluted ink blots and crumbling fibers—was all the evidence that remained of the serial kidnapping cases. Its most recent entries detailed the last known whereabouts of two young girls, one of which had been found dead in a dried creek bed mere days ago. Their father, who had returned to the country in time to arrange the funeral, happened to be aboard the Alcor just the same as him.

It was a wonder that Heizou hadn’t jumped ship the moment he realized who the enraged man was. Up until then, Heizou had only ever seen him in the family photo his wife provided as reference when their daughters first went missing. It was among the spiderweb of evidence he’d pinned up in his office, next to it a list of manifestos with the father’s name on them, clearing him of suspicion. Both of which had undoubtedly been lost in the station fire along with every case Heizou had ever worked on.

Heizou quickly came to two conclusions; first was that Umehara Shinichirou was very much aware that it was Heizou who’d been heading the case of his missing daughters. Second was that no one else on the ship was aware of that fact. To any outside observers, Umehara was a grief-stricken father lashing out at a random officer. No one but the two of them knew that it was because Heizou was on a ship to Liyue, purportedly leaving the investigation of the kidnapping-turned-murder of his daughters on someone else’s desk to handle.

While Heizou was grateful the man saw himself out before the situation escalated again, an actual fist would have been preferred to what hit him next;

If he wasn’t investigating the kidnapping cases anymore, it was likely no one would. And if his suspicions about Takano turned out to be true, anyone who tried would end up like Aoyama.

Heizou had stalwartly faced the angry loved ones of many victims, but he’d never had to look a man in the eye and tell him that no one would seek justice for his daughters.

And Heizou didn’t know if he had it in him.

What little confidence he’d recovered in those brief moments of camaraderie disintegrated into ash along with the family’s hope.

“Don’t let him get to ya, Zou.” Hotori added in an apparent attempt to be helpful, “He’s just in a bad way. You couldn’t have known.”

But he could have. He should have known that the man was the father of two of the victims. Heizou had shown his wife the pieces of their child not even three days prior.

Okamoto nodded in agreement, “He just got the news while we were in port. He ain’t had much time to process, ya know? Ain’t your fault.”

But it was. It very much was. Heizou had gotten so wrapped up in reexamining the evidence that he neglected to attend to the affected family. If he’d just taken the time…If he’d shown even a speck of care…to him, his family, to Aoyama…

It’s my fault.

“Archons, and he still got on the boat?”

“Had to. Captain gave him an advance for the burial.”

He had every right to be upset.

He had every right to hate him.

He’d hate himself if he were in the same position.

He’d hate himself even if he wasn’t.

“It’s a shame…” Hotori sighed and offered a sympathetic smile to Heizou. “But don’t take it personally, Zou.”

But he did. It was personal, because he was at the center of it. He’d been so wrapped up in organizing the mountain of evidence that it kept him from moving forward and if he’d just worked faster, given just a little more effort into helping people instead of chasing the satisfaction of solving a puzzle…

I’m supposed to stop the cycle of violence but all I’ve done is give it another spin.

There was nothing he could do to avoid the feeling of repulsion filling his gut, nor the fear that was rapidly enveloping his senses, spurred on by the guilt and hatred he felt towards his inaction. If these men knew what I’ve done…

He gritted his teeth, squeezed his fist so tightly his knuckles turned white. He could feel himself shaking and oh, they noticed. They definitely noticed.  

If they find out…

If any of them find out…

If Kazuha finds out this is my fault—

He needed to leave.

If he stayed in that room a moment longer he’d lose it. He had to get out before what little reputation he’d built was torn down by his own weakness. He’d claw his way out of the crowd if he had to. Anything to get away from that room and the reality of his mistakes.

Heizou pushed himself away from the table and the comfort of his friend with little more than a mumbled “Excuse me.” and bolted from the mess hall as fast as his feet could carry him. He thought he heard Kazuha call after him, but he couldn’t stop. He needed to compose himself, give himself a moment to think, else he’d fall apart.

Heizou burst through the double doors and into the dimly lit hall at full speed as though he was being chased, by an angry mob or a collective of his own fears. He ran further from the light, not once slowing until the door to Kazuha’s bunk slammed shut behind him.

Finally alone in the darkness of the closest thing to sanctuary he had on the ship, Heizou tried to reign in his tumultuous thoughts. He grasped for them almost fruitlessly as they coursed through his consciousness and relentlessly hammered against his resolve. Breathe… He told himself, You’re fine. Everything is fine. You can handle this. It’s nothing to get worked up over. He repeated the words like a matra, a vague hope that he could power through the fear with mind over matter. But the mind was the problem far more than the matter.

Breathe, Shikanoin. Again, but his lungs refuse to cooperate. Breathe, just breathe. Again, but there wasn’t enough air. Slowly, in and out. It’s easy. Anyone can do it. He doubled over, hand clutching his chest, gasping as his own inner monologue gave up on guiding and went on the offensive. Breathe. Damnit, breathe! Stop freaking out over your own fuckups! Get it together, you pathetic excuse for a detective! You have nothing to cry over! Stop feeling sorry for yourself!

Heizou swallowed back the ache in his throat and forced himself to breathe. That’s right. It’s not hard. Pull it together. Nothing will be solved by you getting all emotional. You messed up. You let this happen. Deal with it.

“Shikanoin…?”

The tentative call of his name snapped him out of his self-admonishment. Slowly he turned to see Kazuha, his visage framed by the soft orange glow of the lantern he held above his head. How long has he been standing there? The expected question of his condition didn’t come. Instead the lantern was set atop the old chest before Kazuha circled around to his front, leaving a mere foot of space between them.

“What’s going on?” Kazuha asked, his voice stern but still holding a deep concern. Heizou could only imagine his worried brow, the frown tugging on his lips. But he couldn’t find it in him to raise his head to see it himself. Not yet.

A moment of silence passed between them before Kazuha continued, “Umehara’s daughter. That’s the case you were working on, isn’t it?”

Another beat passed and Heizou snorted. A child could put that much together. “Yeah, it was a group of kidnappings. I helped his wife identify his daughter’s remains the day before yesterday.” He slowly lifted his head to reveal a tight-lipped smile, but much like everything else he’d become, it was fake. “Bad luck being on the same ship as the father, huh? Definitely one of the stickier social situations I’ve been in as of late.” He chuckled, shoulders bouncing with the effort of it. It only served to make his throat ache again.

Kazuha wasn’t laughing. In fact, his expression was nearly flat as he watched Heizou, as though he was examining every minute change to his expression, looking for a crack in his facade. Heizou realized it was all but useless to hide anything from Kazuha, but that wasn’t going to stop him from continuing to try.

Then Kazuha’s hands were on his shoulders again and that alone threatened to crack his mask in two.

“Shikanoin, I’ve allowed you your space to process what happened, but I’m concerned you’re not handling this as well as you think you are.” No, he was. He was definitely handling the situation just as well as he thought he would, which was not well at all. But he couldn’t let Kazuha know that. He couldn’t let anyone know that. No one else can know how much I’ve messed up.

Heizou smiled flatly and shook his head,“You don’t have to worry. This isn’t the first time I’ve had an angry father in my face. I can handle it.” he gestured flippantly—like it was nothing, all of it was nothing —and shrugged in an attempt to nudge Kazuha’s hands from his person.

The older man didn’t budge. In fact, he tightened his grasp. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” He nearly snapped, stepping closer so Heizou would have little room to avoid meeting his eyes, “What happened last night; you haven’t given yourself any time to process your own loss and I know you’re struggling. You can’t hide that. Not from me.”

Heizou swallowed thickly, head ducked and hair obscuring his eyes. Kazuha was right. Archons, he was right. Why did he have to be friends with someone who could read him like an open book? Why couldn’t he be honest with him from the start?

Because I don’t want him to know.

“I’m telling you, I’m fine.” Heizou said firmly and brought a hand to Kazuha’s chest. A less than subtle sign for him to back off. “I can handle this myself.” It was a lie. It was all a lie. Why was he lying so much?

I don’t want him of all people to see—

“Then look at me and tell me you’re okay.” Kazuha bit out, “Look at me and tell me you weren’t having a panic attack in the mess hall, or when I walked in just now.” Kazuha tightened his grip, the anxiety and fear rising in his voice. Yet Heizou endured. Ignored it. Kept up the walls to keep himself and everyone he cared about safe.

But as always, Kazuha ignored any and all risks when it came to helping a friend.

“Look at me and say you don’t want my help…” Heizou flinched not for fear of that soft, tremulous voice, but for the grief laced between the words, as though he was watching a friend die right in front of him, or feared he soon would be.

“Please, Heizou…”

The use of his given name sent a bolt of indescribable emotion up his spine and set his heart at a rabbit’s pace. He'd never stopped to question the distance dictated by their names. There was always that line of formality and respect between them left uncrossed. A gap in their companionship.

Until that night. Kazuha had so easily scaled those boundaries that he previously held in such high regard. Breaking the rules and bridging the gap with deft fingers and kindness in closeness, a connection that Heizou knew, deep down in the places he refused to acknowledge, he craved in ways only another's embrace could sate.

Heizou hated that eventually such tenderness would be taken from him.

He hated how frightened he was at the thought of having the man near, being known in ways he never had, only to lose him again once he knew what Heizou truly was.

Yet he still lifted his head to meet Kazuha’s gaze and found the same indescribable emotion there, swirling in the deep vermilion of the eyes that always, always saw through him in the worst of ways. They pleaded with him, quietly yet desperately, ‘Let me in. Don’t push me away.’

Why was he lying to Kazuha, the only man he’d trust with his life? His safety? His…

No, I don’t want you to know how badly I’ve failed, over and over and over—!

Heizou shook his head, voice quivering. “I…can’t…I-I can’t…”

I don’t want you to know how wretched I am!

“I don’t!” With both hands to his chest, Heizou pushed Kazuha back to arms length. His comforting touch gone, the plea still in vermilion eyes, now tinged with hurt and regret. Both caused by a lie and a single push.

Heizou lowered his eyes. He couldn’t look at him, not with the knowledge that any pain the man felt was because of him. I can only ever bring him hardship.

“I don’t…I can handle this.” His words shook just the same as his hands, yet he refused to budge. No, he needed to keep Kazuha away for both their sakes. “Please…” I don’t want you to know how much of a disgusting person I am. I can’t lose you along with everything else!

Those slender fingers that had already become so familiar brushed along his trembling hands, “Heizou, you don’t have to do this alone. I—”

“Kaedehara!”

Kazuha froze, his hand hanging midair between them. Heizou refused to look at him. If he did, he’d have to see the utter devastation and hurt his rejection had caused and that would be enough to torch what remained of Heizou’s resolve. So he stood firm where he was, arms outstretched and head ducked so as to remain ignorant of the pain he was putting yet another innocent person through. “I’m fine. I’m just…tired. I’m going to call it an early night.” He dropped his arms and pushed past Kazuha towards the back corner he'd claimed for what scant possessions he had left.

“Shikanoin, please—”

“You said you had more work to do tonight, right? First lookout shift?” Heizou cut him off, threw his words back at him, just as Kazuha would do to him to prove his point. “Don’t keep Xu Liushi waiting. Go eat, I’m just going to sleep.”

The note of finality in Heizou’s voice left no room for discussion and rendered the normally verbose samurai at a loss for words. The atmosphere weighed heavily with the tension of fettered emotions and things left unsaid, yet neither of them dared push the other for fear of driving them away for good. The distance in their friendship had been maintained, but the gap had flooded with uncertainty and self-loathing. Yet another rift neither were willing to ford.

A moment later the door shut again and he knew that Kazuha had gone. Heizou was left with only a damaged notebook and his own turbid thoughts for company, just as he’d wanted.

It’s better this way.

Heizou untied the leather strap and carefully opened the old notebook; scribbles of haphazard notes and diagrams, layouts of homesteads and skeletons of thoughts that even he himself needed a moment to decipher. Page after page, line after line of information once at his fingertips had gradually blurred into streaks of ink and warped parchment. Illegible, worth little more than kindling.

Heizou had to admit, what pages that were written in that special ink from Sumeru had managed to remain mostly legible, though he imagined the merchant didn’t include taking a dip in the ocean or running through a torrential downpour in their typical sales pitch. Anything else had been reduced to indecipherable blotches with only small patches left unscathed. Several pages had stuck together as they dried, sealing their contents with a glue of diluted pigment.

He’d tried again and again to organize the details of the case in his mind but he’d yet to come up with any conclusions he hadn’t drawn before. No investigation was a straight line; each bit of evidence, no matter how small, could open a new path to explore. Another puzzle to solve, if only he could find all the pieces.

If he could even remember what pieces to find—

Heizou turned the page and felt it split and crumble in flakes of too-thin parchment and heavy black ink. Another set of pages fused together. Heizou delicately worked his fingers between the pages to pry them apart. Slowly and carefully running his fingers along the inside, heard it creak and crackle until they separated, flecks of red-gold drifting from the notebook to the floor.

Dried out, pressed, then suddenly shattered, a single maple leaf once full of meaning, now reduced to detritus on the floor.

Fitting…I probably pushed him too far too…

He bit his bottom lip and swallowed down the pain and frustration pulsing in his heart. Heizou pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. I won’t cry over this. I refuse.

Heizou stepped onto the bed frame then vaulted into the hammock suspended across the room. He made himself as comfortable as possible with the notebook opened across his stomach, flipping through its unstuck pages and taking stock on what could be salvaged. Maybe if he tried harder, he’d find a lead in the mess that was once his favorite notebook. Perhaps that would alleviate the weight of the guilt on his conscience.

“Let’s take it from the top.”

Chapter Text

The next time Heizou ventured to the upper deck, he was met with a wall of white. A bank of fog had overtaken the ship, so thick that he could barely see three meters in front of him. The midday sun only made it worse, its light scattered through the mist until everything was so blindingly bright that Heizou had to squint until his eyes adjusted.

Normally the deck was bustling with sailors going about their duties, with Juza at the center running the show, yet strangely it seemed like everyone had abandoned their posts. Not a soul around. Odd.

“Hello~!” Heizou called through cupped hands, yet he received no call in return. “Juza? Captain Beidou? Anyone?”

Still nothing. Just an eerie silence.

“...Kaedehara?” The name came out smaller and shakier than he’d like. Something didn’t feel right. It was too quiet, too still. The boat didn’t feel like it was moving at all and in spite of the mist surrounding him, the air felt stale and stagnant. “Are we…not moving?” he asked aloud, hoping someone would answer.

He forced an exaggerated sigh, “Don’t tell me we ran aground off the coast of Tsurumi or something and I slept through it.” It was a purposefully ridiculous notion; they would have had to go a completely different direction to end up anywhere near Tsurumi Island. He’d hoped someone would hear and correct him, but received nothing.

“Kaedehara!” Heizou called once more, louder so the man would hear, even though he could hear better than anyone else on the ship.

No response, only absolute silence. Heizou felt his pulse quicken. What is going on? Where is everyone?

Heizou drew a slow breath and tried to sort the situation in his mind. The ship wasn’t moving and there was a lot of fog. Their route towards Liyue had been adjusted on the fly so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that they’d hit a landmass they hadn’t anticipated, especially if he factored in the heavy fog. It’d be impressive if they’d run aground without him waking, but given how late he’d stayed up trying to decipher his notes, it wasn’t completely unrealistic for him to have slept more deeply.

That also meant it wasn’t too far fetched for the crew to have disembarked in search of supplies or aid. But it was unusual to have no one stay behind considering the amount of cargo they had. Someone has to be around.  

Just as he was going to shout again, he heard it; a slow clack of wooden shoes along the deck. Heizou had to consciously stop himself from shifting into a combat stance. Too many unknowns already had his mind toeing the line between fight and flight.

“H-hello…?” A trembling voice called out to him in return.

Heizou blinked. A child? His confusion quickly melted into concern. Kazuha had mentioned that there were children on board but he’d yet to meet them. He couldn’t imagine they’d be left unattended in an emergency. Heizou turned in the direction of the voice, looking for anything vaguely human-shaped in the fog. 

There, at the far end of the ship, he could make out a small figure draped in vibrant pinks and violets. A young girl, walking small circles through the mist, as though trying to gather her bearings just as Heizou was. Though it was difficult to make her out at such a distance, Heizou could tell from her posture and gait that she was distressed and…injured?

“Hello…? Is anybody there…?” She repeated, her voice smaller, more strained. Scared.

Whoever she was, she was alone and afraid.

Bit of a match there, huh, Shikanoin?

Heizou elected to ignore his inner monologue in favor of focusing on the girl ahead of him, “Hello! Are you all right?”

The girl startled, her wooden shoes scraping awkwardly against the damp deck, “W-who’s there?”

He answered on instinct, “My name is Shikanoin Heizou. I’m a detective.” No hesitation. It was information he didn’t want to bring up around others, but it felt right to say. It felt normal. Heizou had so desperately wanted to feel normal again. To help people again. “Are you alone? What’s your name?”

The girl took a step backwards, fearful. “D-detective…?”

Heizou stayed in place and relaxed his posture, “Yes, I’m a detective.” he kept his voice soft, as though he was speaking to a skittish animal. In a way, he was. “Are you lost? I can help you.”

“Detective…” She repeated. Then, boldly, she took several steps toward him, “Mr. Detective, have you seen my sister?”

That caught Heizou off guard, “Sister?” He couldn’t help the incredulousness in his tone. Normally lost children would ask for help finding a parental figure, not a sibling. But he couldn’t just assume her situation was typical, so Heizou went along with her request. “Can you tell me what she looks like?”

The girl reached up and fussed with something on her head. It took a moment for the object to come into focus—colors first, then shape—but he could make out an elaborate kanzashi pinned into a ponytail at the side of her head. Her face, however, he struggled to decipher even as she shuffled closer.

“Like me.” the girl mumbled, then pointed to her own blurry face. “She looks like me. Haven’t you seen her?”

Like her? Heizou took a step forward to get a better look at her face in the fog, only for her to back up, shaking her head, “You saw her, right? Where was she?”

For each step Heizou took towards her, she took a step back, as though fearing he would bring her further harm. She’s disoriented and frightened. I need to ease her mind.

Heizou crouched down in hopes that being on her level would be enough to convince her he wasn’t someone to be feared, “I’m not sure.” Heizou admitted as he smiled calmly, disarmingly. Much to his relief, her fearful retreat slowed.

Good, just like that. “If you tell me where you last saw her, we can look for her together. Sound good?” Please let me help. He reached out to her, baying her to take his hand so they could find their way out of the fog—

She knocked his hand away with a startled screech, “Don’t touch me!”

Heizou recoiled in shock as she stumbled back, hunched over with arms wrapped around herself as though to shield her little body from an oncoming strike.

She…Did someone hurt her? “H-hey, I—”

“Where is she?!” She shouted over him, “Where’s Yumi?!”

Yumi.

Where do I know that name from?

“Hold on, it’s okay! We’ll look for her. I just need you to tell me—”

Before he could finish, the girl whirled around and bolted into the fog, the clack-clack-clack of her sandals echoing around him.

Heizou cursed as panic prickled at the back of his neck, “Hey! It’s dangerous over there!” Without hesitation he took off after her at a full sprint. He knew in his gut that he needed to keep her nearby. If she was with him, she’d be safe and he could bring her back to her parents. And after that they could look for Yumi.

Heizou followed the sound of wooden shoes and the girl's hysterical sobs, but he couldn’t manage to catch up to her no matter how fast he ran. He could hear her distressed wailing echoing just ahead of him, calling out her sister’s name, yet she remained out of reach.

The sound of her crying shot Heizou’s anxiety through the roof. He never did handle upset children well. It shook something in him, brought deeper fears to the surface. He needed to find her, help her, soothe her fears, before his own panic set in.

With every passing second the fog around him grew denser, darker, blotting out the sun. “Wait!” He wheezed as he slowed to a stop, winded. It couldn’t have been far but it felt like he’d run a marathon. He bent over with hands on his knees, struggling for air, as though the fog itself was hindering his breathing. “Damn it, just…wait—!” He swiped at the sweat dripping down his forehead with the sleeve of his haori. It’s getting dark. If I don’t—  

Wait… my haori?

Heizou looked down at his attire; he wore plain white yukata and the hakama borrowed from Kazuha, but the haori was brown and patterned the same as the standard uniform given to all doushin of his rank.

He had only one.

Had.

A piercing shriek yanked him from his thoughts. Heizou took off towards the voice again, mind racing with variables and scenarios and attempts to figure out what was happening around him, only to be tossed to the side in favor of the desperate need to find the missing girl that intensified with every footfall that echoed through the fog.

“Yumi! Yumi!” With every cry, her voice grew weaker and shakier with exhaustion. She was running out of steam, much to Heizou’s relief. “I’m scared, Yumi! Come back, please!”

“It’s okay!” Heizou tried to keep his own voice level for her sake, even though his own mind was screaming that something was wrong, wrong, wrong, “You’re gonna be okay. Just stay where you are and I’ll come to you. We can go home together!”

“Go home?”

Heizou stopped dead in his tracks. Another voice. Young, male, hoarse from overuse, and in a different direction from the little girl. Another child? “Please, mister! I wanna go home! Please let me go!”

Shit, there’s more than one victim! “I hear you!” Heizou called back. “Just…don’t move. I’ll come get you soon! Just sit tight—!”

“Let us go!” Another voice the opposite direction. Heizou froze in place. A third, no, fourth child. How many kids are lost here?! It didn’t matter how many. Heizou knew needed to get them out of there and to safety before something happened to them.

Something is already happening to them. And I need to stop it!

“Everyone! It’s going to be okay!” He shouted, though at that point he was beginning to question whether he was saying so to comfort them or himself. “Just stay where you are and—”

Suddenly, what began as frightened pleas for release escalated into terrified begging.

“No, please! Don’t do this!”

“I don’t wanna! S-stop! Let me go!”

“No, no, no! I can’t—please don’t make me—!”

More voices. Five, six, seven, more. The sea air was sucked away and replaced with the fetid stench of rot and days’ old blood, billowing out in a haze Heizou could taste with each breath. Smoke. Fire. Everything around him was on fire.  

Heizou cursed and pressed the sleeve of his haori to his mouth in an attempt to filter the air enough to take a full breath. The scent of the blood caked into the fabric mingling with the smoke made him choke even more.

“Everyone! You need to—” Heizou coughed, “I need you to—” His vision swam as he stumbled  forward on shaky legs. Even light-headed and disoriented he continued his frantic search. I have to do something to help but… “J-just walk towards my voice! I—” Is this going to be enough? “I can get us out!” he lied. He knew it was a lie. But if he just kept saying it— “Just keep going!”

“Help me! Mama! Papa! Where are you?!”

“I can’t see! Please! I’m scared!”

“Hurry! Please! I don’t want to die!!”

“I’m trying—!” Heizou choked. It was getting hotter and hotter with each step yet the voices still sounded so far away. All crying out, begging for help, and Heizou could find none of them.

Damn it all! Heizou staggered forward, each breath labored, his vision blurred, his steps stilted. Yet he pressed on because he could still hear them. If he could still hear them, they were still alive. He could still find them. Help them.

Just a little further. Just a little faster. I know I can find them! I’m so close! I have to be—

What strength remained left him and Heizou found himself collapsed on his knees, gasping for breath while embers whirled around him. He tried to push himself up, tried to keep going, but—

The crying stopped.

The screaming, the begging, all of it ceased. All fell into silence.

Heizou never knew the lack of noise could be so terrifying.

But not nearly as much as what lay on the ground before him.

Heizou managed to lift his head to see the remnants of a pink yukata scattered across the deck, its vibrant wisteria pattern spattered in blood and mud. Bile rose in his throat. Heizou knew that yukata pattern well and he knew exactly what was under each scrap—

“Yuka…?” whimpered a tiny, trembling voice. “Yuka…is that you…?”

—Umehara Yukari. What was left of her.

And just ahead, curled against the mast among the tangled nets, weeping and covered in blood Heizou realized was not her own, was Umehara Yumiko.

“M-Mr. Detective, where…” she croaked between choked sobs, “W-where did you go…?”

The world fell away, leaving only him, Yumiko, and the dismembered corpse of Yukari.

“You were supposed to bring us home!”

Heizou remained on the ground, staring at the girl’s blurry face as it became more and more distorted, scribbled over in corroded browns and pitch blacks. It wasn’t his fault, he could say. He could say how hard he tried, that there were extenuating circumstances, that he didn’t have the support he needed for things to go as planned. All the lies he repeated to comfort himself whenever a case ended poorly even though they only ever succeeded in cementing how hard he failed in his head.

He couldn’t even lie to himself, not when faced with the ones he didn’t save.

All at once the sound caught up to his ears; screams and cries of Archons know how many lost children colliding with shattering glass and burning wood to become a cacophonous roar so loud it drowned out his senses and razed what rational thought remained. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked on his knees as endless apologies spilled from his lips as though that would appease whatever beast he’d unleashed from the depths of his mind.

When Heizou managed to lift his head again, he saw it; opening above the terrified girl, a glowing slit in the air, a tear in their altered reality. From it seeped an eerie red-black that dripped onto the ground below, covering everything in thick, sickly ooze. The ground, the deck, the remnants of Yukari, and Yumiko’s terrified, trembling form.

Slowly it widened and out flowed what Heizou could only describe as pure, tangible fear. And that fear could see him.

The din rose into a crescendo that overpowered every inch of his being, driving him to the edge of madness. Heizou clutched at his head, forearms pressed against his ears as hard as he could yet it did nothing to dampen the agonizing noise. The only thought he could conjure among the turmoil was a simple fact;

You left them behind.

He heard a scream and the world upended itself, sending him tumbling into the endless void.

Heizou woke on the floor, the hammock swinging above him loose by one end, the bolt holding the other having snapped. The jolt was enough to bring him to semi-consciousness, yet the terror followed him from slumber into waking. The ringing in his ears and the image of that thing overtook his senses and spilled onto the worn wooden floorboards. It flowed over him, a viscous panic pervaded his mind and seeped into his skin and into his ears and nose and mouth—

Heizou clapped a hand over his mouth and scrambled to his feet. The door was torn open and Heizou took the stairs two at a time until he was met with the open air of the deck. A blessedly dark, moonless sky greeted him, but he had no time to appreciate it. He scuttled up the curved staircase past the ballistas, barely making it in time to fall to all fours and expel what little he’d eaten that day over the edge of the deck into the choppy waters below. The only thing keeping him from toppling overboard as his body seized was the white-knuckled grip on the ledge.

Minutes passed over what felt like hours of painful retching before he was reduced to dry-heaves, his body finally rid of the imaginary remnants of the ichor that had threatened to pull him back under. He remained there, trembling on hands and knees, panting from the exertion of the whole ordeal, until his arms finally gave out and he flopped over onto his side.

“Fuck…” He coughed, voice hoarse and sticky. A dream. It was a dream. Fuck… He sucked in a breath and curled into a ball, arms wrapped around himself in a feeble attempt to soothe his own fears away. A nightmare…Archons, why?

He knew why. It was a simple conclusion to draw; anger, guilt, sorrow, regret. At himself, his situation, the world around him. But most of all, the knowledge that he’d done the unspeakable four times over; he’d abandoned a case.

But not just the cases—

I abandoned them.

Heizou sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the tears. Even if there were extenuating circumstances, even if he’d had to go with no support, even though he tried , it didn’t change the fact that those four children were gone. It didn’t matter that there were three victims unaccounted for; they’d already found a body. It was already too late for them. And it was his fault.

Despite his confidence that he could solve the rapidly chilling case, it’d been a lost cause from the beginning. The case had already been in shambles by the time the file had been dumped on his desk. He’d tried. Archons, he’d tried. He pulled out all of his secret techniques, spent day after night after day after night wracking his brain in search of any sort of lead. Every bit of evidence had been scattered like puzzle pieces, shuffled together then soaked in blood and dropped into Heizou’s lap to sort out.

It’d been fruitless. It was as though someone else held half those pieces and Heizou should have known something was missing. They’d scooped them into a pile and sat before them, ready, waiting just out of reach for Heizou to make a move.

And it’d been the wrong one. Now Heizou was on a ship miles upon miles away, with any hope of those children returning home gone. Burned away and washed out to sea.

If I’d just worked faster…If I was less scattered…If I wasn’t so unsure of everything…If I had just fucking gone on patrol with Aoyama…

He’d failed. He’d failed so spectacularly that he’d have no hope of being allowed near another case again. No hope of ever redeeming himself. He was branded a criminal, a murderer with a bounty on his head and the stipulation dead or alive which meant dead. It didn’t matter what he could say to save himself, he’d be shot on sight. He’d reached out blindly, didn’t think things through, and now he was soaked in blood too.

There was no going back to how things used to be.

Ace Detective of the Tenryou Commission Shikanoin Heizou had been hanged last night in all ways except physical.

CLICK TO JUMP TO SCENE SUMMARY

Would it have mattered if I’d stuck around? Would they have spared me if I hadn’t fought back? Would any of this have happened if I declined to investigate the case? Would I have declined knowing this would be the outcome? Would any of those children have made it home safely? Were they all doomed to die from the start?

Were they doomed to die because of me?

Each of those children called for help. They begged him to be rescued, to go home, and Heizou just walked away.

Heizou held himself tighter, blunt nails digging into bare shoulders and— archons he didn’t want to cry. He couldn’t let himself cry. How dare he cry and feel sorry for himself when everything was his fault?

What am I doing here? Why am I still here?

I’m a coward. I ran away. I could have saved them. I could have—

Heizou laid there, denying himself the luxury of tears as he spiraled further and further and further down into the darkest places a mind could go.

It was there he came to a conclusion.

It doesn’t matter.

He swallowed down a gasping sob and a strange sense of calm washed over him.

None of it matters. It’s all gone. Everything I had…for the case, for my job, for myself…it’s all gone.

Heizou carefully stood, shaky on his feet, arms still wrapped tightly around himself. The closest thing to a hug he’d allow someone he found so revolting.

I…There’s nothing left, is there? No reason…

Slowly he turned to look out over the water. A new moon deprived them of light but the low-hung stars offered a guide to where the horizon ended and the sea began. He could not help but admire the view, not of the sky, but the waves churning beneath. With only the lamps from the ship itself offering any light, it was difficult to see just how far of a drop it was from the top deck to the waves below. Ten meters? Twenty? He could ask, but there wasn’t a soul around. Maybe someone in the crow’s nest and whoever was manning the helm, but otherwise everyone had retired for the night. Even Kazuha must have gone elsewhere. After his cruel rejection, he couldn’t blame him.

Looking out over the ocean under a picturesque night sky, the wind fluttering through his tangled hair, the ship swaying with the whim of the waves…

It was quiet.

He was alone.

It’d be so easy.

Heizou took a step back and drew a slow breath. Easy, and quick, and relatively painless. No need to clean up. No kin to inform. They only need to let nature take its course. They could pretend he was never there and go about their lives without sparing a thought for former Doushin Shikanoin Heizou the wanted murderer, a callous coward to the very end.

He slipped his sandals off, setting them neatly on the deck next to him. He felt nothing as he shuffled closer. Only a vague ache behind his eyes as the tips of his toes lined the ledge and met open air. A lump formed in his throat as he looked past his feet, leaning just enough to view the water below. Vaguely he wondered if he’d knock himself unconscious on impact or if he’d have to go about the whole ordeal the long way.

Another slow breath, eyes squeezing shut. A moment of silence shared by him, the sky, and the waves waiting to embrace him.

He clutched himself tighter and wished it was someone else’s arms around him rather than his own.

Fair skin and flaxen hair, eyes fiery with just as much determination as kindness. Sword-calloused hands clutching onto his to support him, ground him, remind him that he still had at least one person that believed in him.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

Heizou imagined what it’d feel like, to be held by him. He wished he could have felt it for real, if only once. If only he’d just let him in.

“Please, Heizou…”

If I could do it over again, I’d welcome him.

Those pale features, accentuated by hues of autumn, crumbling just like the keepsake leaf Heizou had held so dear, destroyed by his negligence.

But it’s too late now. I can’t go back. Not after hurting him too.

“I’m sorry, Kaedehara…” Heizou whispered to the wind in hopes it would carry it to wherever Kazuha was.

He took a step forward, foot meeting nothing but air. He held his breath, waited for the water to rush up to meet him as he tumbled—

But not in the direction he expected.

There was a sharp tug at the waistband of his pants and Heizou was jerked backwards, colliding with something warm and soft before hitting the deck hard with a yelp. It knocked the wind from his lungs, leaving him to wheeze on the deck as he tried to process the sudden change in his trajectory.

He had only a moment to stare at the sky in confusion before someone’s face blocked his view.

Dark hair and a single, crimson eye filled with more fear than anger.

“What the hell were you trying to do, Heizou?!”

Beidou.

Beidou had caught him…doing what? What was I trying to do?

What am I…

The air was too thin again. Heizou remained where he landed and stared up at the older woman, trying to find the words for what he just tried to do.

Tried, and failed.

Tried, and was stopped.

The words got stuck in his throat, caught behind his eyes, pushed forth all his panic and sorrow and grief and everything else he’d been holding back to the surface.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” The words were chased by a sob as the dam holding his harried emotions back fractured, “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Beidou!”

The tears filled his eyes and spilled over before he had even a hope of stopping them. He could only stem the flow with shaking hands and clench his jaw to quell the despondent sobs. He was tired. Tired and scared and lost and alone.

Just like the children in his nightmare.

But unlike them, he still had a chance to find his way out.

“C’mon…” Beidou said in a tone much softer than he ever expected from the boisterous captain, “Let’s get you inside. We can talk there.” One hand carefully grasped Heizou’s and the other slid beneath his shoulders to help him up. Heizou didn’t protest. He couldn’t manage much more than hitched sobs and quiet whimpers as he was shuffled along the deck to Beidou’s quarters.

Chapter Text

The last time he’d been in the captain’s quarters, Heizou had been running on fumes both physically and mentally. Adrenaline and the knowledge that the only thing remaining for him on Inazuma was an early grave drove him forward into the uncertainty of the night. Back then, it was only by Beidou’s kindness and Kazuha’s support that he’d been able to leave that room on a positive note. A small sliver of hope and comfort that allowed him to rest his weary body after that hellish night.

The second time had been much the same, except the fumes were emotional and he’d faced an early grave of his own making. There’d been no Kazuha waiting in the winds to rescue him, and Heizou couldn’t blame him, not after what he did.

Beidou, on the other hand, didn’t appear to have any intention of taking his stubborn rejection lying down.

Once safely behind closed doors, Heizou had been made to sit at the edge of the alcove bed while Beidou gathered things from around the room. In most situations, Heizou would make a point to analyze her actions or take note of his surroundings. Yet the only thing he could do was stare blankly at the floorboards at his feet, wrapped in his own trembling arms, holding himself together literally as much as figuratively.

"Here." Beidou first draped a blanket over Heizou's shoulders, then offered him a damp cloth, "Clean your face up a little. It helps."

Heizou stared at the cloth, his mind lagging behind his body, bogged down by the weight of his muddled thoughts. He watched numbly as his hand accepted the offering, as though it belonged to someone else, a spectator of the scene instead of an active participant. Beidou was saying something to him; he could hear her fine, but the information from his ears wasn't making it to his brain. Everything in and around him felt disconnected; his mind, his thoughts, his body where it sat and the events that led him there. Everything empty but overfull all at once. A ghost unwilling to return to its shell.

After several moments of failed response, Beidou's voice finally worked its way into his thoughts, "—ait here a minute. I'm going to grab Kazuha."

Everything snapped back into place with a gasp and a surge of panic.

"No!!" Before Heizou registered what he was doing, the damp cloth was dropped in favor of grabbing Beidou by the wrist to halt her exit. She turned back to him, blinking in surprise as he pleaded, "Please, don't...I..." Heizou swallowed back the rising fear and willed himself to meet her gaze, "I-I don't want him to see me like this." Not after what I said to him. "Please..."

Beidou didn't hesitate, as though her plan all along was to spur Heizou into speaking. She stepped closer, a soft sort of severity in her eye as she watched him, "I won't, then. But I need you to talk to me." Heizou opened his mouth to speak but Beidou quickly cut him off, "And no, I'm not going to believe you're fine. You're not. And as your captain I want to know what's going on so I can help."

Statements like those he’d heard dozens of times before— You can talk to me. I’ll listen. You can trust me. I’m worried about you. Why won’t you let me in? —yet Heizou would always sidestep it for the sake of maintaining the fragile front he’d constructed of himself. But the way Beidou approached him about it had him tripping over his own feet.

It was no use continuing to hide everything. The facade he’d spent years building had cracked and everything he’d been holding had nearly pushed him over the edge of the deck. Beidou had already seen him, the worst of him, and she’d allow no room for dishonesty or pride, not after what she witnessed.

He couldn’t hide his struggle from Kazuha, only desperately deny it to save both of them. Beidou wouldn’t even allow him the luxury of self-sacrifice.

Better start unpacking, Shikanoin.

Heizou ducked his head and drew in a slow, shaky breath.

“I was investigating Umehara’s daughter’s death.” He wrung his hands together, “I know you know about her already. I was heading her case. Her and her sister, and two other children who had disappeared under the same circumstances.”

Beidou picked up the damp cloth from the floor and sat beside Heizou, close enough to offer the warmth he craved without him having to reach for it. “So that whole fiasco in the mess hall…”

Heizou nodded, “I hadn’t wanted anyone to know who I was. I don’t exactly have the best rep with ex-convicts.” he snorted sardonically in spite of himself, “Those wanted posters getting passed around made that impossible though. I thought I’d managed to smooth it all over, but then…”

“He won’t hurt you, Heizou.” Beidou said with absolute confidence, “He lashed out because he’s grieving, but if you feel like you’re in danger—”

“That’s not it!” Heizou cut her off, “Archons, that’s…I have no right to be so messed up over this, but here I am. I just…need to get over myself already.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Beidou spoke again, “Heizou, Umehara isn’t the only one grieving. You may not have been close to that colleague of yours, but you’re mourning his death and blaming yourself. Same with those children. And the loss of your everyday norm. For all intents and purposes, if you weren’t a mess, I’d question Kazuha’s opinion of you.”

“And you’re not questioning his opinion now?”

“The only thing I’m questioning right now is why you won’t let yourself be comforted.”

Where to even begin with such a question. How would he explain to her that he thought he wasn’t worth it? That his presence only caused others harm? That he feared losing what few good things he had more than dying himself?

I can’t lie to her… Heizou realized, Not after she saw me almost…

He owed her an explanation, even if Heizou himself found it pathetic at best.

“Umehara…He should be mad at me. I’m here and not in Inazuma looking for the murderer.” He sucked in a breath and cursed the burn in his eyes, “Everything for that case and any others I was working on are gone except for what I have in my head and no one is going to help them.” Heizou buried his hands in his hair, clutching the wine-red strands and willing away the subconscious urge to tear them out. “The only one who could bring them all home was me, and all I did was bring a little girl home to her mother in pieces.”

That day in the morgue, the mother of the victim wept over what remains they could find of her daughter, cursing the gods and the doushin alike for taking her children away from her. Heizou had stood nearby, lost in thought, letting her grieve alone instead of offering any sign of sympathy. Even if he could only placate her with promises of her missing daughter returning home safely, it was better than just silently watching. Any falsehood would be better than being utterly alone. I didn’t even have to stand there and lie to her. I could have just comforted her. I could have helped in some way…!

“...You blame yourself for her death.” it was a statement of fact rather than a question.

“How could I not? I had all the evidence. I’d been poring over it for weeks. If I’d been faster, maybe I could have found her before…” Heizou groaned in frustration but it came out as more of a sob, “It’s always like this. I always get too deep into my head and forget the human factors around me. I focus on the wrong leads, the wrong chain of events, and it all ends up being too little, too late.”

His shoulders shook with the strain of keeping his tears at bay. It was even harder to hold back when Beidou wrapped an arm around him. As much as Heizou wanted to push her away, he didn’t think he had the strength to hold himself together if she wasn’t doing it for him. “There are…so many people that I’ve failed to help. By the time I’m involved, there’s already hurt. Someone is already suffering. I tell myself I’m doing everything I can to ease their pain but…it’s never enough.”

Beidou remained silent as Heizou poured out all his heart’s anguish. Heizou was simultaneously grateful to have a comforting touch and resentful that she was giving him any sort of respite when facing his own crimes.

Heizou clenched his jaw and swallowed another sob back, “Man alive...I’m a failure. A fraud. I can close a case and jail a criminal but I can’t erase what happened to the victims. I can’t unbreak the families I’ve torn apart. I’d come to terms with that. I took on that guilt thinking someday I could save enough people to outweigh the ones I couldn’t. But…look at me…” He let his hands drop to his lap and grimaced at how much they trembled when not anchored by something. “I’m a fugitive fleeing the country. I’m wanted for murder, and rightly so! Those four kids, there’s nothing left for any of the other officers to go on and no one would be stupid enough to pick up the case because they’d end up like me or Aoyama. I made so many mistakes…if I’d just done things differently…”

“Heizou…”

“What am I doing, Beidou?” Finally Heizou lifted his head to face Beidou, his eyes brimming with tears he refused to shed, “I don’t…I don’t know what’s left. I dedicated everything I had in me to helping people and all it’s gotten me is…this. I even hurt the ones that are close to me. The people I care about…”

Even Kazuha.

Heizou dug his palms into his eyes, berating himself internally for wanting so badly to cry. I don’t deserve it. “I hate it. I hate that no matter how hard I try, there’s always someone in pain that I could have saved. I hate—” he bit his lip to keep himself from confessing the thought that had been rolling around his head for years:

I hate myself.

Before he could, he was given a reprieve in the form of strong arms gathering him into a firm embrace. Heizou remained still, unable to find the strength to continue pushing her away. He was rapidly losing the battle against tears and he didn’t know how long he had left before he fell apart completely.

“Beidou…?”

“Listen to me a sec, Heizou.” Beidou spoke softly, a hand smoothing across his back, “The fact that you’re so hung up on not being able to help people tells me you’re not a failure.”

Heizou’s brow furrowed. How did that make him not a failure? “But how? What good is a detective that can solve a case but someone still dies in the process?”

Beidou shushed him, “Just listen.” she repeated, firmer to match her hold around him, “I’ve had many ex-cons on my ships over the years. Probably a few you put away too.”

Heizou winced at that, but said nothing. He didn’t want to know how many of the men he screwed over were on the ship with him. With the state he was in, he didn’t think he’d be able to handle another confrontation.

Beidou continued, “But anyone who ends up here has something in common; even if it meant turning their life upside down, they were grateful for getting the opportunity to go straight. That wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for your efforts.”

“You’re saying they’re happy they got arrested.” Heizou deadpanned, confused as to where she was going with the story.

“I’m saying that for every person you think you failed to save, there’s someone else you did. It may not be so heroically direct, but you still helped them see that they needed to change. Isn’t preventing crime from happening in the first place something you strive for?”

It was. It was the reason he became a detective. The reason he left home when he was still a teen, threw himself into the world so he could understand the true enemy he was up against. Since then he’d been searching for a way to wipe away the darkness that pushed people to the worst of their limits. If he could fix the world so there’d be no need to lie or steal or kill…

It was easy to forget when that same darkness was threatening to drag him under too.

“But…I can’t even do that anymore.” He muttered with a shaky gasp. He buried his face in Beidou’s chest if only to mask the tremor in his voice, “I can’t call myself a doushin after all that. I don’t even think I can go home…”

“Weren’t you a detective before you were a doushin?”

“That…” Heizou didn’t have anything to counter that. She was right. He’d worked alongside Sango as a freelance detective for years. Working for the commission had been a step up, but it was a luxury then, not a necessity. The night he’d watched Kazuha throw his Tenryou badge into the river he had felt only fleeting sorrow. The weight it carried hadn’t been noticed until it was gone and Heizou stood stripped bare of the only tangible proof of his success as a detective. It was such a point of pride for him…

Beidou petted his hair as he continued to hide his face, “You were a detective without the badge. That won’t disappear with the badge. The skills are still there and so is your compassion for your fellow man.”

She was right. He knew she was right. But archons, why is it so hard to believe her?

Heizou swallowed back another wave of tears. “I…How can I call myself a detective at this point…?” He finally asked what continued to haunt his thoughts, “I just…how can I after I…” It felt like a lie to him. The wounds were too fresh, the path too far out of sight…

“Then don’t.”

Heizou whipped his head up, teary eyes wide, “Don’t…what? I can’t just…I’m not…” He stammered, unsure how to explain how something could be such an integral part of him but feel like a privilege he hadn’t earned.

“Your position and title isn’t everything you are.” Beidou stated with a warm, confident smile. It made his heart skip a beat. “It’s okay for you to be just Heizou.”

Just Heizou.

That hadn’t been a phrase he’d used in a long time. It was always Detective Shikanoin Heizou of the Tenryou Commission, if not just Detective Shikanoin. How long has it been since someone just called me Heizou before now?

He thought of Kazuha, how he’d only ever called him by his title facetiously after they’d become friends. Just Shikanoin, and—

The plea crossed his mind again, ‘Please, Heizou…’

“You know,” Beidou’s comforting smile morphed into a devious smirk, “You and Kazuha have some of the worst personality traits in common.”

“W-what?” Heizou’s jaw dropped, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The self-blame, hiding your feelings, keeping others at a distance…Honestly, it’s no wonder the two of you became so close. Feels like you kind of get each other.”

Heizou found himself blushing and gently pushing away, almost pouting at being so plainly called out. “Bet you haven’t had to stop Kaedehara from throwing himself overboard…”

“You’re right, we didn’t.” she stated with a half-shrug, “Wasn’t fast enough for that. We had to fish him out.”

Oh.

As much as he didn’t like to think about it, the amount of stress and personal loss Kazuha had gone through was far worse than what Heizou was experiencing. Being faced with your friend’s fresh corpse and having to flee the country because every doushin on the commission was after—

…

I never stopped to consider that similarity.

“I really am an insensitive prick…”

Beidou snorted, “I wasn’t going to say that, but…” the previously discarded cloth was handed to Heizou. “Look, things are rough right now, but you’re not in this fight alone. There are plenty of people in your corner. You’re part of the crew now, and we look out for our own.”

Heizou stared at the now cold cloth with an almost reverent look, “Part of the crew…Never thought I’d hear that.” he looked up at her with a genuine, if not shaky, smile on his face, “Thanks, Beidou…I’m…I’m sorry…for all this.”

“Moment of weakness.” Beidou declared as she pulled Heizou in for a one-armed hug. “It’s okay to be not okay right now. Just…talk to someone next time you get that low? Me or Kaz. We both get it.”

Archons, Kazuha… ”I need to apologize to Kaedehara too…Is he still in the crow’s nest?”

Beidou hummed, “I think he went to help below deck after his shift. Something about giving you spa—”

As if on cue, the doors slammed open with zero regard for anyone who would be sleeping, working, or otherwise inside. Both occupants startled and looked over to see Kazuha, eyes wild with panic, one hand braced against the doorframe, the other clutching a pair of stray sandals.

“Beidou!! Heizou is—!” He panted out as if he’d just ran the entire length of the ship from each floor in succession. His eyes settled on Heizou across the room and the sandals were numbly dropped.

His sandals. Oh, archons, I left them at the ledge…! ¹

All the blood drained from Heizou’s face.

Kazuha found his sandals.

Kazuha would instantly know he—

“K-Kaedehara, I can explain—”

Before he could even finish his claim, there were arms around him. Swift as the wind, Kazuha had crossed the room and pulled Heizou to his chest in a fierce embrace, nearly knocking him over with the momentum. Heizou froze in place, heart hammering in his chest, mind racing. His brain shouted to push Kazuha away to keep the other safe while simultaneously begging him to never let go lest he go insane. He couldn’t bring himself to do the former but feared the latter in equal measure.

“Thank goodness…” Kazuha murmured, his voice watery with barely withheld tears, “I thought I heard you on the wind but when I went looking, I…” He held him tighter, bandaged fingers curling into wine-red strands. The shuddering gasp made the heat build behind Heizou’s eyes all over again. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Heizou. I never meant to push you so far…”

Hearing his name whispered with such sorrow brought that indescribable emotion to the forefront of his psyche. It gathered in his chest, clogged his throat, and all the tears he tried desperately to hold back surged to the surface again. He couldn’t put a name to it—or was he just afraid to?—but he allowed himself to act on the urge it brought.

“Kae…de…” Heizou’s voice cracked like the dam holding his tears at bay, “K-Kazu…ha…” his breath hitched, caught against the lump in his throat, and he gave in to his own need at last; 

Heizou wrapped his arms around Kazuha in return and finally, finally allowed himself to cry, openly and without restraint, in front of his dearest friend.

“Kazuha…Kazuh-ha…!” He sobbed his name, over and over, making up for all the times that he refused to for fear that having him close would somehow break them. But in that moment in the privacy of the captain’s quarters and comfort of Kazuha’s arms, Heizou came to terms with the fact that he’d already fallen apart, and Kazuha was there to help him put the pieces himself back together, however long it took.

‘You don’t have to do this alone.’

“I’m sorry…! I’m sorry, Kazuha!” Heizou couldn’t keep the sob out of his apology despite his efforts. Once the flood gates were open there was no stopping it. Months after too many months he refused to allow himself such a luxury as crying and now he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop.

Yet Kazuha didn’t seem to care; he pulled back just enough to cup Heizou’s face and, oh, he was crying too. “You don’t have to apologize, Heizou. I’m just glad you’re still…!” Kazuha, with tears flowing down flushed cheeks, gave Heizou a trembling smile that said all the words for him; I’m so relieved you’re still alive. Please don’t ever scare me like that again.

Heizou nodded. He finally understood and that only brought on a wave of fresh tears. He brought the damp cloth to his face with quivering hands and tried to wipe away his tears only for more to replace them. “I-I didn’t. I was—I just—” Heizou choked on the words between hiccups, rapidly losing the ability to convey coherent thought. He hadn’t wanted Kazuha to see him in that state either, but his body was no longer giving him a choice. He’d held back for far too long.

A new warmth enveloped him, coupled with a scent he’d come to know intimately over the last two days. He managed to blink away enough tears in time to watch Kazuha tug his haori over Heizou’s shoulders. Their eyes met, fingers brushing as Heizou clutched the warmth as close to himself as possible, with Kazuha hesitating to even let go.

“It’s okay, Heizou.” Kazuha whispered, “I’m right here.”

That time, Heizou gave up on holding back. He threw his arms around Kazuha and let everything out at once. Reduced to wails and incoherent sobbing, all the emotions Heizou had been bottling up for far too long shattered free—from far and beyond the murder cases to encompass years of sorrow that he’d covered with the lie of “it’s better this way.” He let it go, if only just once, allowing it all to tumble forth into waiting arms. All while Kazuha ran his fingers through Heizou’s hair, whispering reassurance against his ear as he wept. Soothing he hadn’t known since he was a child and so sorely needed.

The two held onto each other like a lifeline, as though the only thing keeping them from drifting out to sea was the other’s embrace. It was there, wrapped in Kazuha’s warmth and the comfort of his words, Heizou finally let exhaustion take him.

When Heizou woke next he was not surrounded by a wall of white or a pitch black abyss, but the soft light of an early day’s sun. Too bright to be their bunk, the bed too big and soft. Yet the scent of autumn mornings and the sea permeated his senses still, its familiarity bringing him comfort he had yet to find the words to describe.

With a groan he slowly opened his sore eyes and properly took in his surroundings. Cloth of black and crimson wrapped around him, one hand clasping it tightly to his chest, cocooning himself in its warmth. His other hand laid across sheets, not holding onto its burgundy silk, but someone else’s hand.

“You’re awake.”

Next to him, Kazuha sat propped against the headboard, a worn journal in his lap. The sun shone brightly from the window behind him, casting his loose hair in an almost ethereal glow. Coupled with that ever calm smile, he looked downright angelic. “How are you feeling?”

It took Heizou several slow blinks to realize the position they were in and he bolted upright. All at once his frazzled brain presented him with the events of the previous evening into the night. The fiasco in the mess hall, his meltdown, that nightmare, his rapid downward spiral that Beidou had to physically haul him out of, and his complete and utter breakdown in front of her and Kazuha.

Heizou groaned and flopped back onto the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. Archons, what a mess I am…

“Heizou?”

Hearing his name called with such uncertainty made Heizou flinch, but he didn’t uncover his face. “I can’t believe you saw me like that…” he groaned, “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Kazuha shifted on the bed to kneel at his side, “You went through a traumatizing ordeal. This was to be expected.”

“It’s not just that!” Heizou snapped, frustrated with himself and the humiliation he felt from just a display of human emotion. “It’s not—I just—” He gave an aggravated growl, “When you tried to help, I pushed you away. I…” he hesitated, swallowing thickly before continuing in a smaller voice, “…I hurt you, didn’t I? When you only wanted…”

Vividly he recalled Kazuha's pleading eyes and the soft quiver in his voice as he tried to get Heizou to listen to reason. He could still hear him so clearly, the way he spoke his name like a treasure nearly lost.

Was that really the first time he’s called me Heizou…?

“I’m sorry, Kaedehara.” The apology came as a whisper trailed by the remnants of tears and regret. “I’m so—”

“It’s okay , Heizou.” The hand that had thus far refused to separate from the other’s was cradled in Kazuha’s lap, lithe fingers tracing along his knuckles. “You are not the only one to feel lost in the midst of your tribulations. I’ve felt such loss as well, not just of my loved ones but the path I walked. You helped me in that, even if you do not realize it.”

Heizou knew what he was referring to; the incident at Tenshukaku, the death of his friend, how he went from wanderer to fugitive in the span of seconds. How Heizou had found him purely by chance and had gone against orders from the Shogun herself to help Kazuha escape, knowing full well it could end with his own head on the chopping block. He did so readily and fearlessly, because it was the right thing to do. He’d gone against the laws of the land and obeyed those of his heart instead.

He could follow those laws again, let his heart be his proverbial guide.

He could do it.

“Your worth doesn’t disappear with your badge. The skills are still there and so is your compassion for your fellow man.” Beidou’s words from the night before echoed through his mind again. She’d known him for such a short time and yet she was already so sure of his capability. He’d found it difficult to process at the time, but…

“You are a good person, Heizou. Capable of a great many things. I truly believe that, even if you do not believe it yourself.” 

In spite of his efforts to keep level, Heizou could feel the heat of fresh tears gathering behind his eyes. It felt like it’d been forever since someone spoke of him with such genuine admiration, Heizou almost wasn’t sure how to process it. And to receive it from someone like Kazuha, who had outran the malice that pursued him and became so beloved by everyone…  

Heizou peeked out from under his arm to see that angelic smile aimed his way. He wanted to believe him more than anything. This man could speak a thousand lies and Heizou would still try to believe every last one. But the words spoken then he knew deep down to be true.

“You’re still here. You’re still Heizou. That’s enough to keep going.”

Those words he truly wanted to believe.

‘It’s okay for you to be just Heizou.’  

Heizou sat up with a subdued chuckle as he scrubbed at his sore eyes, “Man alive, how is it you know me better than me?” He ventured another peek at his friend’s face and wished he had a kamera of his own to capture the glow of Kazuha’s smile.

“I merely speak the truth, even the truth you deny yourself.” Kazuha’s smile curved into an almost mischievous smirk.

Heizou rolled his eyes at the obvious jab, “Is that right? And what exactly am I denying?”

Kazuha pressed his hand to his chin, feigning deep thought, “Well…I know that you are quite the indulgent person.”

“I’ve never denied that.” he scoffed.

“Hm, you haven’t, but you can be quite demanding of said indulgence from others, sometimes without realizing.” That angelic smile drifted towards devilish. It looked just as beautiful.

Heizou mock gasped, only partly pretending to be taken aback, “Hey now, are you saying I make unreasonable demands of you?”

“Not quite. Not in that manner.” Kazuha said with a shrug, “But I do wish to point out that you’ve yet to let go of my hand.” He gave his fingers a squeeze just to prove his point. “In fact, the reason we are in Beidou’s bed is because you refused to let go of me, even as you slept.”

Heizou’s face lit up bright red, “That’s not—”

“You’re still wearing my haori.”

Heizou looked down at himself and, sure enough, he was indeed still wrapped in Kazuha’s haori. He was also reluctant to relinquish both. “You’re just teasing me, aren’t you?”

Kazuha chuckled, “Perhaps.”

Now Heizou couldn’t help but pout. “Forgive me for being selfish, then.” Yet such accusations wouldn’t stop him from enjoying the contact. He couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him, let alone held him. And Kazuha had done so willingly and extensively. Holding his hand and embracing him… 

Heizou ventured a peek at the other’s warm expression as he laughed at their antics and oh, how long had he been starving? How did he live so long without having someone hold his hand? How would he live without it again?

Kazuha had done so much for him. Heizou didn’t know if he could ever repay him. He didn’t even know where to start. The man had saved his life a dozen times over and they were only on day 2. But had he done anything for Kazuha in return other than trouble him?

A later problem. Heizou told himself in a show of mercy. Kazuha won’t expect repayment, just like I would never ask it of him.

Heizou didn’t know how to thank him, but he knew where to start; he squeezed Kazuha’s hand once more and offered a genuinely fond smile;

“Thank you, Kazuha. For…everything.” I wouldn’t be here without you.

A squeeze was given in kind and for a while, the two sat in silence, enjoying the morning sun and silent companionship they both sorely needed.

A knock on the door drew them both out of the moment, “You two awake? Come get food while it’s hot!”

Kazuha huffed and they both reluctantly let go of each other’s hand. Their quiet time had ended. For now. “Come on. Let’s get our breakfast.” He slid past Heizou off the bed and began fixing his hair. Heizou followed suit and found himself already missing the man’s touch.

As they both rearranged their clothing into something decent, Heizou couldn’t help but wonder what Kazuha thought of those shared touches; was it just to comfort Heizou, or was Kazuha starving too? He thought about asking but… No, that’s something we’ll need to unpack together later.

When the two finally emerged from the captain’s quarters they were greeted by the bright blue sky and billowing red sales. Instead of the empty deck of Heizou’s fears, the crew was all present, gathered in small groups to share their meals under the morning sun. Four children ran between the crowds of adults, one playing keepaway with a brightly colored ball as the others tried to decide who would be first to hide it. Heizou sighed in relief. Everything was as it should be. He looked to Kazuha, who he found once again watching him instead of admiring the scenery.

Heizou gave a grin in return, and Kazuha seemed to come back to himself. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he fiddled with the end of his scarf, “I will grab us our breakfast. I’ll just be a moment.” He darted off without further fanfare, leaving Heizou to stare and wonder just how starved Kazuha was, and in what way.

“You doing better?” A voice behind him called. Beidou pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against and came to stand next to Heizou, a knowing smile on her face.

“Yeah…” Heizou nodded, “Thanks again for talking sense into me…I’m really sort of embarrassed by it all now.”

Beidou shook her head, “Like I said, you’re part of the crew now. You can come to me whenever you need someone to listen.” then she smirked, “Unless you prefer to confide in Kazuha, that is.” her words were accentuated by a slight tug on the sleeve of Kazuha’s haori that Heizou had, again, neglected to return.

Now it was Heizou’s turn to blush, “Don’t put it that way. You’ll give people ideas!”

Her grin widened, “You’re wearing his haori.”

Heizou all but pouted, “I know what you’re implying and you know nothing like that happened.”

“I know, I know.” Beidou shrugged, her wry smile free of judgment but definitely still mischievous. “All I’m saying is, Kazuha’s not going out of his way to hold anyone else’s hand. He’s not much of a touchy-feely guy. Wasn’t even big on being hugged for a while.” She chuckled and sauntered towards the crew, “If you’re feelin’ up to it, go see Juza once you’re done. Got more work that’s perfect for your big brain.”

The conversation only served to leave Heizou confused. She brought up a good point and while Heizou told himself he’d believe what she and Kazuha said, he had a hard time looking at the gentle affection the two shared as anything beyond platonic. Not for anything Kazuha had implied or done incorrectly, but…

We just mutually need the reassurance. That’s it…right?

“Everything all right?” Heizou jumped out of his reverie to see Kazuha holding two bowls of porridge with what looked like nuts and dates on top.

Heizou tried to laugh off his fluster, “Yeah, all good! Just wondering what job Juza has for me today.”

“Watch out!”

Both of them snapped to attention in time to see that one of the children had tripped and the ball was flying directly towards them. Heizou moved on instinct, grabbing the ball midair before it could smack into Kazuha’s face. The children stared at them, seemingly awed by the display of speed. So did Kazuha.

With the ball now in hand, Heizou realized what it was; a temari, worn and well-loved, with a few loose threads that looked to have been caught on things over the course of their play. It was not unlike the temari he had as a child, made by his aunt and played with until it was too frayed and dirty to be salvaged.

This one though, despite the shape it was in, was more than within the realm of repair. Heizou turned the ball over in hand, examining the pattern of the loose threads, mapping out where each connected beneath the surface. Just red threads are loose. So maybe…

The children gathered around him, watching in wonder as Heizou tugged the end of a single thread and all the rest were pulled back into their proper places. “There.” he set the ball into one child’s waiting hand and quickly knotted the long tail of loose thread to prevent the ball from unraveling again. “That should do it.” He said, both hands on his hips and a proud grin on his face.

Heizou may as well have made the ball appear out of thin air with how excited they were to have their toy so quickly repaired. “Thanks, Zou!” One of the children chirped and the others echoed their gratitude.

They watched the four of them trot off to play their game, excitedly proclaiming one of them as the first to hide the ball before gathering around the center mast to count. Heizou watched them with a fondness only nostalgia could inspire. He knew without looking that Kazuha was surely smiling too.

“Temari.” Heizou broke their shared reverie.

“Hm?” Kazuha tilted his head curiously, but allowed Heizou to continue uninterrupted.

“They’re pretty complex, aren’t they? I used to wonder what one would look like all unraveled, but…” he turned to cast the same proud smile towards Kazuha, “A greater challenge would be figuring out how to assemble one, don’t you think?”

Kazuha blinked as though not quite sure where Heizou’s train of thought was going, but smiled nevertheless. “Sounds like a fine hobby to pick up.”

^{1. In some cultures, it's common to remove ones shoes before committing suicide by jumping, which means their shoes are left at the location they jumped. [back]}

Chapter Text

It’d been some time since Heizou had felt so content.

Perched on a sun-warmed rock atop a high peak, he was treated to the stunning scene of the sunset overlooking the ocean. It was one of many places Kazuha had told him about over the years, yet he never thought he’d get the chance to experience it himself, let alone with someone by his side. “It’s quite a view, isn’t it?” Kazuha mused, just as content, “I never tire of seeing it.”

Heizou nodded silently, but he was not admiring the same view as his companion was. Instead he’d been entranced by that of said companion himself; Kazuha, seated at the edge, one leg pulled to his chest, the other dangling over the cliff. And how beautiful his profile was as the breeze ruffled his platinum hair, highlighted by the evening sun. The calm that washed over him from head to toe as he closed his eyes and inhaled the sea breeze, chin tilted to the sky as it faded into shades of violet at the edges of orange.

It was only when he was among nature that Kazuha truly looked at peace. A far fairer view than any landscape they had encountered together.

“It really is.” Heizou said, or at least wanted to. Perhaps he subconsciously felt speaking would ruin the moment, for the words caught in his throat. So he simply continued to take in the beauty around him as the sun sank lower over the horizon, the sky rapidly darkening. The only sound was the waves lapping at the rocks beneath them, a dull roar that grew louder as the tide came in.

The night fell over them swiftly as the sun disappeared altogether, yet no moonlight took its place. Heizou looked up, searching for a trace of light, only to find an infinite abyss above him. No stars, no moon, no harbor lights, just…black. An endless nothing.

The roar grew louder and louder still, muffling out all other sounds. Heizou realized Kazuha was staring at him, brows furrowed, lips forming what had to be a question lost amidst the deafening waves. Heizou watched as what remained of the deep blues and violets of the night sky were quickly swallowed up by the wall of water. A swell of a single wave rising higher and higher as it sped towards them.

“Watch out!” Heizou tried to say, but the words were lost to the din. Next to him, Kazuha scrambled to his feet, standing between him and the oncoming wave. Heizou tried to reach for him yet found himself rooted to the spot, limbs leaden and useless.

A splatter of black landed on Kazuha’s hair, then another on his arm, his shoulder, raining down on him as he stood with arms outstretched as if to shield Heizou, who couldn’t even get off his knees.

“Just run for it!” His words caught in his mind, never making it to his lips, “Forget about me! Just get out of here!” Nothing. His warnings were either unheard or unheeded, for Kazuha remained in place as the wall of black continued to rain sludge onto them.

With great effort Heizou reached for him, uselessly grasping for his clothes to get his attention. Just before his fingertips brushed the edges of his haori, Kazuha turned, his face the very definition of terror, black muck dripping from his eyes and nose.

He opened his mouth for what had to be one last cry of Heizou’s name, accented by a splatter of ichor flowing over his lips and down his chin.

Kazuha leapt for him, surely to shield him once more as the wave crashed over them. But instead of being struck by a wall of water, it lunged for them with turbid tendrils of black, cold and viscid and vile. Heizou could only watch in horror as they encircled Kazuha’s limbs, pulling him into the viscous muck as he desperately tried to reach him.

Heizou wrenched his arm free from its invisible binds and clambered for Kazuha’s hand, his voice returning only long enough to call the man’s name one final time before they were both pulled under into the mire—

Heizou woke with a gasp and quickly rolled to his side in a fit of coughs, ears filled with the sound of the wave dragging them under. It took a few seconds of continued, unabated breathing to realize he was not drowning in an endless abyss, but safe in his lamp-lit bunk aboard the Alcor.

He lifted a hand to his face, exhaling shakily with relief when he saw it was free of muck.

Another weird dream… Heizou groaned as he sat up, one hand pressed to an eye to will the oncoming headache away. And that one started so nice too…

Still trembling, Heizou swung his legs over the edge of the bed and took in the room around him. Gotta anchor myself; bed under rear, floor under feet, reach out to touch the wall, close eyes and breathe. Count one, two, three… Heizou repeated the grounding instructions Beidou had given him after the previous night of unsettling dreams. While they weren’t nearly as bad as the first night at sea, he still woke up shaking and disoriented, and struggled to clear the images and sensations from his body.

The memory of ink-filled ocean entangling Kazuha and pulling him into the pitch flashed across his mind, drawing a shudder from his frame. Of the nightmares he’d had, the ones involving Kazuha were second only to that of the terrified children, and they’d persisted every night since. Heizou had yet to bring contents up to anyone, though his gut told him it’d be wise to at least let Kazuha know as he was the primary subject, if only so he could help orient him should Heizou be unable to do so himself.

He had a feeling Kazuha was already aware of his struggle, but had yet to say anything, likely for the same reason he’d waited as long as he did to confront him about his panic attacks; privacy, respect, and trust that he could handle himself.

Heizou appreciated that more than he could say; that he understood his need for independence, and he stayed when his own strength wasn’t enough.

Sometimes that knowledge alone was enough to help him calm down.

Now that he was more confident that his mind wouldn’t walk away from his body, Heizou looked up at the hammock suspended across the room. It’d been Heizou’s turn in the bed, an arrangement made after the two of them insisted the other take the more comfortable accommodations. Said debate was ended by Beidou joking that they should just share. They came to a compromise to alternate quickly after.

But presently, Kazuha was not in the hammock either. Not entirely unusual, but his absence only served to dredge up the barely resolved fear. Heizou closed his eyes and swallowed back the images once again, then sighed. I’ll feel better if I can see him. Then I can sleep…

Heizou slid into his sandals and stood, one hand braced to the wall to steady himself, and headed for the upper deck.

The sky was dark and the deck devoid of any mysterious fog, much to Heizou’s relief. Some of the evening crew were still milling about, checking equipment and instruments, chatting, just a typical night. Heizou felt some tension leave his shoulders. His own life may be in shambles, but at least things were relatively normal for all those people.

I hope I can get back there. To normal.

“Hey, Zou! Thought you went to bed already.” Heizou looked up to see Beidou standing on the bow, grinning with hands on her hips. “Can’t sleep?”

Heizou chuckled nervously and scratched his cheek, “Woke up. Figured I’d get some fresh air.”

Her face fell a bit; whether it be the slight tremor in his voice or the way he shivered as he spoke, the look in her eye said she already knew why he was awake. Heizou had quickly found that it was nigh impossible to hide anything from the woman. She saw through him like the nets he’d been tasked to repair. Heizou had yet to figure out if that was the case with everyone or if he was just especially transparent to her.

Fortunately she also understood what it was Heizou needed in those moments; ample tact, and to see Kazuha, though the latter Heizou wasn’t keen to admit out loud. “Kaz is up top if you want to join him. Sure he’d appreciate the company.” She said with a knowing smirk while motioning to the center mast’s crow’s nest.

Heizou of course knew that, but the topic change alongside permission was appreciated. “Thanks, Captain!” He gave her a genuine smile before making his way to climb the main mast.

Since joining the crew, Heizou had yet to have been in the crow’s nest himself. This was mostly because it was a trying task to get to it, what with how high up it was. Heizou imagined that was why Xu Liushi would stay up there for most of the day unless absolutely necessary. Kazuha at least had the ability to make the trip relatively quickly thanks to his vision, but Heizou’s own vision offered no such luxury.

But for the opportunity to see Kazuha and possibly gain a few more hours of sleep? He’d make the hike.

It took several minutes of climbing for him to finally reach the top. What he was greeted with was not Kazuha diligently observing their surroundings, but rather sitting on the floor while staring up at the sky, an open bottle of wine in his lap.

“Drinking on the job? How bold.” Heizou joked as he pulled himself the rest of the way up the rope ladder and into the crow’s nest, “Is this why you’ve been taking longer lookout shifts?”

Kazuha’s eyes snapped from the overcast sky to Heizou, staring perplexedly at his sudden guest. From the slight blush on his cheeks, he’d already had a fair amount of wine and likely hadn’t expected to be caught in the act, especially considering where he was hiding out.

It took a few blinks for Kazuha to shake off his obvious confusion and replace it with his usual, warm smile, “When with pirates, do as pirates do, hm?” He held up the bottle—a brand of plum wine that was popular overseas despite being relatively unremarkable—and patted the spot next to him. “Care to join me?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Heizou wasted no time in taking the offered spot, as well as the bottle of wine he sought to share. He glanced around for a cup or saucer to serve himself with, only to discover that Kazuha hadn’t bothered with either. Huh, never took him to be the bottle drinking type. Though I suppose he probably didn’t expect company…

Heizou stared at the bottle in his hand a moment longer, particularly fixated on the mouth of it. Just imagining who’s lips had been on it…

…Nope, we’re not thinking about that.

Heizou shrugged and took a long draw of the wine himself, and immediately regretted it once he got a mouthful of acidic, bitter plum juice, “Ugh, this is…” he cleared his throat with a cough, “...certainly a unique choice of drink. What is this?”

Kazuha shrugged with a chuckle, “To be honest, whatever was at the back of the cabinet that looked like no one would miss.”

“This would definitely not be missed.” Heizou shuddered, “Tastes like I just drank prune flavored mineral water…emphasis on the mineral.” he smacked his tongue around his mouth in an attempt to clear the chalk-like tannins from his pallet. It wasn’t working well. At least there’s alcohol in it… Heizou took another swig in spite of himself before handing the bottle back. “Man alive, how are you enjoying that?”

“I said nothing of enjoying.” Kazuha took a sip himself and appeared to be physically resisting the scrunching of his own face.

Cute. Heizou just barely held back a snort at the sight, “Next time, let’s pick a better wine to steal for our stress drinking.”

“I think this is less stealing and more liberating them of unwanted goods.”

“A rocky defense at best, but I’ll let you have it.” Heizou gave him a cheeky grin, “Since you’re doing as pirates do.”

They exchanged knowing looks before chuckling at their own antics. The bottle was handed back to Heizou, who took a drink despite the foul taste, not even bothering to hide the sour look on his face.

It felt like old times; the two of them sitting side by side, sharing warmed sake as they exchanged tales of their travels near and far. Back then the two would talk far into the night, knowing that their time together was limited between Heizou’s job and Kazuha’s need to wander. He’d watch as Kazuha grew more energetic, more animated with each glass, somehow keeping his noble vernacular alongside frank words. Until he’d hit the wall and start to droop onto the counter or Heizou’s shoulder, singing his praises until they were both red in the face.

Those nights where Kazuha would cling onto Heizou as he was carried on his back, and whine for him to stay as he lay on Heizou’s futon, halting his escape to the couch. And Heizou would not so begrudgingly oblige until the man drifted off into slumber.

The nights they could exchange fond smiles and light-hearted jokes. When they weren’t plagued by war and death.

Good times. Simpler times. Before they went on the run.

Before Kazuha left.

I’ve missed this.

His traitorous mind overshadowed the memory of Kazuha's relaxed smile with that look of terror accented with black-red ooze. Heizou tensed, a shudder vibrating through him as he squeezed his eyes shut and willed the vision away with the steady counting of breaths. This is okay. We’re okay. No reason to be afraid. He’s fine. We’re fine. Kazuha’s here. He’s safe and he’s here.

“Did you have another nightmare?”

The question startled Heizou out of the growing panic. When he opened his eyes he saw Kazuha was watching him, brows furrowed, lips drawn thin. He didn’t wait for an answer, “Was it the same as last time?”

Yep, attentive as always. Heizou shook his head, “N-no, different.” he was quick to reassure him, a nervous chuckle in his voice, “Don’t worry, I’m okay. No freakouts this time.”

Whether it was how easily he brushed off the situation as a mere freakout or prefacing it with this time, Kazuha looked less than convinced. “If you’re certain.” He muttered, “You know I’ll be concerned for you regardless.”

Heizou visibly winced at that. The last thing he wanted was Kazuha fretting over him again. He already felt like he was burdening him by not having himself sorted, even worse when it seemed like Kazuha was walking on eggshells around him, like he was fragile, teetering on the brink…

Thankfully, Kazuha didn’t push when met with Heizou’s silence. Instead he slid closer to him on the floor, the physical contact available should Heizou desire it. Even his presence did wonders to soothe Heizou’s nerves.

Like always, Kazuha seemed to innately know just what Heizou needed.

Several minutes went buy of just the two sitting close, silently passing the steadily draining bottle of wine as they watched the clouds race by. The alcohol buzzed through his veins, leaving him delightfully warm and content, even as his mind continued to scrabble around in a panic over the uncertainties in the air.

“How long until Liyue?” Heizou asked both for curiosity’s sake and to soothe his own mind.

“Hm…A half day, perhaps. A day, day and a half at most, so long as we do not encounter any trouble.” The back half of that sentence was punctuated by another big gulp of wine. Heizou had a feeling the crease in his brow had less to do with the foul taste and more to do with the reason he was drinking in the first place. “As you can see, the weather is not quite the ideal we expected.”

“Is this what you were hoping to avoid?” Heizou recalled the first morning at sea; Kazuha had worked with others on the crew to create a new trajectory for their voyage that circumvented some sort of trouble near the maritime border of Liyue. They’d planned to revisit his forecast as they got closer to their destination, and judging from the pensive look on Kazuha’s face, the needed update had been difficult to grasp.

“In part, yes.” Kazuha’s gaze flicked to Heizou for only a second before returning to the sky, “Our previous route may not be an option anymore, which has me…uneasy.” He lowered his head and ran his fingers through his windswept hair, “The problem is…I can’t seem to pinpoint what we’re sailing into. It feels foreign to me, though I know its ways well.”

Suddenly Kazuha’s dour mood made sense. What Heizou’s intuition did for him in assembling clues and solving cases, Kazuha’s keen senses did for navigating the world at large. Not just in forecasting the weather but in revealing any potential dangers laying in wait. It was one of the many reasons his bounty was boosted so high during his time as a fugitive; the man could literally hear danger coming from a mile away and just as easily subdue as he could evade. Having those senses fail him—or worse, become wholly indecipherable—was akin to being robbed of his eyes and ears for how disorienting it was.

And judging by just how morose he looked, having those words be lost in translation had contributed to the miscast, which led to poor judgments from others as well as himself. Like a case unraveling evidence first on the walk to the courthouse, you suddenly have nothing in your hands to show for your hard work and a judge who wants an explanation as to why you’ve wasted everyone’s time.

“I think I understand.” Heizou shuffled closer, playfully bumping into Kazuha’s shoulder, “I have to say though…It’s not like you to get so bent out of shape over such a mistake. At least not to this extent.” He motioned to the bottle in Kazuha’s hand, now a little more than half-empty thanks to their combined efforts.

Kazuha lifted the bottle, glanced at how much was left, then set it back down again with a sigh and a shake of his head, “It’s less the mistake and more the uncertainty of risk. I’m aware that the weather is fickle and I will admit I’m often incorrect in my predictions, but the stakes are higher this time.” The bottle was tipped back and Kazuha swallowed down another mouthful before shuddering. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and handed the bottle to Heizou. “My… integrity was called into question by a senior member of the crew. The conversation devolved from there.”

That raised even more questions. Sure, Kazuha kept his cards close to his chest and would prefer to remain a simple face in the crowd instead of a fixture of a scene, but he was overall an honest man who wanted little for himself save for a dry place to sleep and new experiences to seek. A man well liked for his modesty and honesty, and his willingness to aid others. Who would ever think of him as anything less?

Heizou felt the need to have a talk with said senior crewman himself, but let it slide for Kazuha’s sake.

“I imagine that statement went over well.” Heizou gently took the bottle from Kazuha, setting it in his own lap for the time being. As nice as it was to have the man relaxed and speaking candidly, it was clear he was drinking for the sake of getting drunk, which was never a good thing.

“I was…less than polite.” He shook his head and looked away, face red with what Heizou guessed was more embarrassment and shame than alcohol. “Beidou came to my defense. She knows my priorities and why. Even if it can’t be helped…”

Again, Heizou’s curiosity carried the conversation, “And your priorities are?” Though he feared he’d somehow regret asking, Heizou felt he needed to know; What goals could he have that could possibly make someone question his character?

“Seeing you safely to Liyue.” Kazuha turned to him, his words given with such resolve that Heizou was taken aback, “That is my only goal in this voyage.”

The blush that lit up Heizou’s face at his forthright confession rivaled Kazuha’s. It was such an obvious answer—and really, Heizou didn’t know what he expected otherwise—yet hearing it from Kazuha with such conviction—

Memories of the last week came to mind; how Kazuha swooped in out of nowhere to help him escape certain death, how he stood up for him against his fellow crewmen, how he held his hand to ground him, to comfort him, all the reminders to breathe and he was there for him, and held him as he sobbed after falling so far down in his own mind he couldn’t climb out by himself and how his heart fluttered when he—

“Heizou?”

—called him by his name.

Heizou snapped back to reality to see Kazuha had moved closer, no longer caring to keep the distance between their shoulders, and gazed at him with eyes full of determination, worry, and that unfamiliar emotion that Heizou had yet to approach for reasons he was not ready to admit. 

But no further. Even in their close proximity, there was still a distance, only minor physically, but mentally…emotionally…

—“All I’m saying is, Kazuha’s not going out of his way to hold anyone else’s hand.”—

Beidou’s words rang through his head. She could see something between them, yet even though he trusted her words nearly as much as he did Kazuha’s, he couldn’t quite get himself to believe them.

There’s just…so much. In my head and around me. I don’t know if I can bridge this gap yet. Or if I should at all. I just…

I don’t know what to do. I just want him to stay. I want him to know I want him to stay.

He pushed through the hesitation and uttered the only thought he knew he was ready to convey. “Thank you, Kazuha. For…everything.” Heizou forced himself to return the same look of determination. Even though fight or flight had kicked in and was actively threatening to make him bail on the situation, he stood firm for the sake of his dearest friend. “I know my being here has caused a lot of tension and I’m still…” He averted his eyes for fear his face would catch fire from the heat of his cheeks alone. As always, the only question I’ve yet to find an answer to is you and I, and what any of this is.

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Kazuha placed a hand on Heizou’s, giving it a light squeeze. “Just focus on you and what you need.” He said quietly, a slight slur to his words; a subtle reminder of how much they’d already drank and enough for Heizou to evaluate the buzz in his own head alongside his tumultuous thoughts.

If only I knew what I needed…

…but…

He swallowed thickly and slowly raised his head to meet Kazuha’s eyes again and was graced with a warm smile for his efforts, the expression somehow even more endearing when complimented with the redness of his cheeks.

…If I can stay with him while I figure it out, maybe it won’t be so bad.

The two gazed at each other, both unsure what to say yet neither quite willing to break away.

It ended abruptly when they both broke into fits of giggles that escalated into full blown laughter.

“Man alive, what is in this shitty wine? It’s got my head in a spin!” Heizou barely managed to ask between fits, clutching his sides.

“Mine as well.” Kazuha wiped at the beginning of tears from the exertion, “Perhaps it’s fermented for so long it now has psychedelic properties?”

Their laughter continued, fueled by liquor and the sounds of joy from the other, until they both flopped breathlessly onto the wooden floor. Only then, staring at the night sky as the clouds curled and flowed above them, did they lapse into silence once more.

There they remained, catching their breath as they lay shoulder to shoulder, comfortable in each other’s presence.

If only we could stay…

“Two days tops to Liyue, huh?” Heizou asked softly, feeling dazed and delightfully warm.

Kazuha yawned. “We’ll likely only stay at the harbor long enough to unload. Beidou prefers mooring elsewhere if it’s for more than a day or two.”

“I don’t even know what I’m going to do when I get there.” Heizou sighed, “Beidou said I could join the crew, but…”

“But…?”

Another sigh, “I don’t know. I don’t think the pirate’s life is for me.”

“Not quite stimulating enough?”

“Not in the way I’d like.” Heizou stared blearily up at the billowing clouds, eyes struggling to focus. To no one’s surprise, they were both past the point of tipsy and well on the way to drunk. “Only so many puzzles to solve on a ship, you know?”

Kazuha rolled his head to face him, eyes drooping, actively fighting off the drowsiness that threatened to take him under. “Then perhaps a job on land would suit you better?”

“Probably,” He squinted up at nothing as the gears sluggishly turned in his head, “What’s the Liyuen equivalent to doushin?”

“Millelith.”

“Do they hire detectives?”

“You may have to speak to the Qixing about that one.”

Heizou groaned at the thought. He knew little of Liyue’s hierarchy except that the Qixing consisted of powerful people—some with visions—and oversaw everything in their country in absence of an archon. That, and the well substantiated "rumors" of the Tianquan having relations with a certain Fleet Captain. It was more than his inebriated brain could grasp at the moment.

Not when there were dozens of other things on his plate as well.

Heizou sighed, “I’ll need to re-establish myself…It’s not like I can carry my legacy over from Inazuma.”

“Perhaps a fresh start won’t be so bad.” countered Kazuha.

“I’ll need to find a place to stay.”

“There are inn rooms to rent.”

“And earn money…”

“Adventurers’ Guild commissions.”

“And new clothes…”

“Center of Teyvat’s textile market. You’ll have no trouble.”

“I’ll need to find all my research materials…”

“No shortage of books or scholars.”

“Do you have the answer for everything?” Heizou’s head snapped to the side to face him, not realizing he was pouting until Kazuha did the same, an amused smile on his lips as he chuckled.

“I might have some experience in losing everything and starting over in a foreign country while on the lam.” Though the words were sarcastic and the memory melancholy, Kazuha’s voice carried hope that Heizou sorely needed. Irrefutable proof that a life torn to pieces could be assembled again. And that smile, the earnest look in Kazuha’s eyes…It made Heizou want to believe every word he said.

Heizou rolled onto his side with a soft sigh, “I suppose you would, huh?”

But there was one key difference between Kazuha’s situation and his own; Kazuha was beloved by most everyone he met. They knew his heritage and that he’d removed himself from it to live a simple life of seeing the world and all its beauty; what his family wanted for him. He’d been admired. He’d been welcomed.

Then there was Heizou, whose own family would regularly post disparaging notices on the community board to warn people of what was to come if he’d been allowed in the city.

Proved them right on that one. Dad must be so proud…

But there was something that never made it onto those warning posts; that Heizou would surely regret the pain he’d cause in his attempts to help.

People were hurt, and so much had been destroyed…

“Things were in such an uproar when we left….” Heizou chuckled half-heartedly at his own plight in a vain hope it’d ease the tightness in his chest. “No way Sara could cover it up…I wonder what they told everyone?”

Kazuha shuffled closer and Heizou felt warm fingers brush the back of his hand, “You needn’t worry about that right now. It’s all right to just focus on you.”

“Is it though?” Heizou winced at how weak and watery his voice was. Don’t tell me I sped past giddy drunk and ended up at weepy drunk already…I don’t want to cry in front of Kazuha again…

“It is, I promise.” Kazuha said it as easily as his own name. Callused fingers wrapped around Heizou’s own, the touch sending butterflies traveling up his arm straight to his heart.

Heizou allowed his eyes to flutter closed for only a second before forcing them open again. With almost half a bottle of wine in his system, little sleep, and the comfort of having Kazuha near, Heizou felt he could doze off at any moment. Nevertheless he fought it back, wanting just a few more moments at this man’s side, knowing as soon as they climbed down to the deck they’d have to separate once again.

And that would mean losing the comfort that was Kazuha, whether it be his words or his touch. That comfort he’d only ever had from this one person.

I want to believe him. Archons, I want to believe him.

“I just…” Heizou mumbled, eyes cast to the side for fear holding Kazuha's gaze for much longer would shatter his already threadbare resolve. “Man alive, I really did burn all my bridges in one go, didn’t I?” With all that had happened, Heizou couldn’t be sure that there’d be anyone in Inazuma willing to welcome him back. He could prove his innocence, but would that really change any of their minds?

Heizou flinched when he felt a bandaged thumb brush along the lower lid of his eye, over a twin mole, an unshed tear wiped away. “Don’t be so certain of that…You have more people in your corner than you realize.” Kazuha said softly, his hand lingering on Heizou’s cheek. Once again, he couldn’t tell if the heat was flush or fluster.

“You say that, but not everyone has a reason to be sympathetic towards me.” Heizou sighed, allowing his eyes to slip closed and just enjoyed the tender touch of Kazuha’s hand to his barely healed cheek. “I know my office is gone, for sure. I’m kind of the reason the station got torched.”

“Mm…The station was a loss. It will need to be rebuilt entirely.”

Heizou sighed, feeling himself drift ever closer to slumber. “Landlady wasn’t a fan of me, so she definitely let them clear out my house…I had some case files there…”

And Kazuha drifted closer to him, fingers brushing Heizou’s hair from his face. “Not yet. I asked Arataki-san and Kuki-san to stay there to keep watch over the place.”

He’s so warm… Heizou made a soft, contented noise and leaned into Kazuha’s gentle hand, his mind tunneling on the sensation. Archons, he’d so craved that hand on him again… “I can’t even get anything back…” He shivered and had to swallow down a lump in his throat just imagining the years of things he’d collected that were lost. Not just his research materials, but his clothes, his keepsakes, the pebble… “I thought the loss of my reputation would hurt the worst but—”

He was cut off by Kazuha gently shushing him, “Just take one step at a time.” He said barely above a whisper, and it was then Heizou realized how close the man was, “It feels daunting right now, but you can do it.”

All he could give was a sardonic chuckle— “You always have so much faith in me.”

—But Kazuha didn’t pull away. “You’ve yet to give me a reason not to.”

Heizou groaned, unable to hide the small pout on his lips, “Since when are you so smooth when you’re drunk? Give me back goofy drunk Kazuha.”

Kazuha smirked, “It’s as you said earlier, I’m feeling bold tonight.”

The two dissolved into giggles once again, their hands remaining clasped together, and fell into contented silence. As Heizou’s eyes drooped more and more, he couldn't help but imagine the whole evening as a dream. To have Kazuha so close, that gentle smile on his face as he brushed fingers through Heizou’s hair to soothe whatever residual fear dared to remain within his worn psyche. He felt so relaxed, so at ease.

I don’t want to wake up.
I don’t want to lose this peace…
I wish he’d…  

“Kazuha…?”

Heizou sucked in a breath—the first hint of a sob—overwhelmed by the flood of emotions rushing over him. The warmth of another, the subtle reassurance that the world wasn’t over just yet, delivered by a soft voice and a gentle hand. How long had he yearned for this without realizing? How was he going to live without it once they separated in Liyue?

“…Please stay.”

The response came as a bandaged hand cupping his cheek and a soft huff that ghosted across his lips. And even such simple gestures felt so overwhelming. Whether it was an effect of the liquor, the turmoil of the past week—past months, years even—or just how close Kazuha’s lips were to his, all of it felt like too much all at once.

Yet through it all he felt compelled to close the gap. Hesitation and uncertainty be damned, he could blame the bad wine, let impulse take over, and figure the rest out in the morning. He just wanted to solidify in his subconsciousness that Kazuha was in his corner, had his back, would come to defend him and his just like—

Hold on a minute—

Heizou’s eyes snapped open once his drunken brain finished processing all the non-Kazuha info it’d received over the last several minutes and latched onto one statement; “Wait, what was that about Arataki and Kuki?” He propped himself up on his elbows, staring incredulously down at his inebriated companion. “How would you… When did you…”

The look of bleary disappointment on Kazuha’s face was rapidly overtaken by wide-eyed shock as it seemed the impact of his own words finally struck him. He sat up quickly, fumbling onto his knees. “There’s an explanation—”

“When did you even see Shinobu? Or Itto for that matter?” Heizou knew that Itto had been present during the fire, but he’d been far too occupied trying to battle the blaze alongside the other prisoners. Shinobu hadn’t been there at all, so far as he knew. So how—

Heizou sat up straight with a sudden and rigid fear; there was so little time between his rescue and the time they left Ritou, and thus only a narrow window in which Kazuha could have encountered the Arataki Gang. That meant that either Kazuha had managed to traverse the distance to his home and back in that narrow timeframe, or he’d arrived earlier than established and had met with the two before the incident to make the arrangement.

The former was most plausible, but his anxiety prodded at the latter with vivid imagery and a big but what if—

Heizou squeezed his eyes shut as if that would block out the traitorous thoughts; No, I refuse to even entertain that theory. Kazuha would never…He’s been nothing but truthful with me. He’d never do anything like that—

—「Maybe, but what if」—

“Heizou—” Kazuha grabbed his hand, effectively pulling him away from the edge of his spiral before he could tumble down into it. Grounding him, as he always did, even as his dizzied mind swirled confusion with anxiety.

The resulting reaction: the first question; “What did you do? ”

Kazuha stared at him a second, eyes darting up and down the length of his body, as if gauging his reaction thus far. Then he closed his eyes and exhaled, “The night I brought you to the Alcor, I returned to the mainland to look for answers. You were injured and exhausted, and we were short on time. I wanted to find as much as I could.”

It fit with his theory and while it was the less alarming of the two, it still raised many questions. “And what did you find?”

Kazuha’s hesitation spoke volumes, as did his bowed head. He gently squeezed Heizou’s hand, “...A few things. None of which I felt needed to be discussed while you are still recovering.”

The answer stung more than Heizou expected it to. Kazuha had gone back to the mainland in search of information—of which he’d apparently found—but hadn’t divulged to him. Because he was still “recovering”?

“You still should have told me.” Heizou shook his head, gripping Kazuha’s hand tighter, anchoring Kazuha to the conversation as much as Kazuha was anchoring him to reality, as though either of them were liable to cut and run. “At the bare minimum what happened to my house to make you ask the local band of delinquents to watch over it for me.”

“That local band of delinquents came looking for you because they’d seen what happened and were worried about your safety.”

“That—” was the last thing Heizou expected to hear. Of all the people to come check on him, he least expected the Arataki Gang. Sure, he’d often buy intel off Shinobu, and he’d helped reduce Itto’s sentences a number of times, but he never assumed he was anything more than a thorn in their sides. An inconvenience, because Heizou may not have held the cuffs but he was still a doushin. Still their “enemy.” Or so he thought.

But learning long after fleeing the country that there were people looking for him, who were concerned for his safety and presumably wanted to help him—

And he hadn’t known.

He hadn’t known any of it.

What anger had begun to build quickly melted away, leaving more questions in its wake. “Why didn’t you tell me…?” He asked, head bowed, in a voice so small and frail that he wasn’t sure it came from his mouth, “If I had known, I…”

Once again Kazuha’s fingers caressed his cheek and Heizou only barely resisted leaning into the touch for want of comfort. “I wanted to, I just hadn’t found the right time.” The way he spoke—soft yet trembling at the edges with trepidation—showed he had been torn by his own actions, “That first day was so hectic, we had barely a moment alone. I didn’t know how it would affect you…And then things only got worse and…”

As much as Heizou hated to admit it, Kazuha’s logic was sound. The incident had left him shaken and barely holding on mentally. And with how vehemently he’d pushed Kazuha away that night when he’d tried to help, and how quickly he’d spiraled out of control, it was probably the right choice to keep any unfortunate news under wraps until he’d bounced back a little.

But that didn’t change the fact that such crucial information as the fact that a friendly face had gone looking for him—not out of ire or spectacle but out of care for his safety— had been kept out of his reach.

What would that have changed, had I known?

Kazuha had every chance to tell him anytime after that, but he hadn’t. And even if it was for his own good in the end, it didn’t erase the ache in his chest when Heizou realized it was probably because he thought he couldn’t handle it.

“You still should have told me.” Heizou said quietly, head ducked and hair falling into his face, “I know you’re worried about me, but I have a right to know. That’s my life I left back there, Kazuha. So please…”

He went quiet then, bottling up the emotions that were already threatening to boil over. He was drunk and in no condition to confront anyone on anything, let alone when he knew that Kazuha had done all of it for his sake. He’d risked himself again, and picked the lesser of the two evils for the both of them.

It was because he cared.

“Heizou…” Kazuha shifted closer to brush Heizou’s hair from his eyes, “I’m sorry, I—”

Before Kazuha could finish his statement, a deep rumbling echoed around them. Both looked up at the sky, expecting the telltale flicker of electro arcing between the clouds, only to find them just the same as they had been the whole night.

Another rumble sounded, low and rolling, drawn out like a growling beast. But again, there was no sign of worsening weather.

In fact, there was nothing in the sky at all—not yet—only the same clouds they’d been staring at all evening.

No, the growl had come from below.

Kazuha scrambled to his feet and rushed to the opposite side of the crow’s nest, both hands on the railing as he leaned out over it, frantically scanning the skyline from one end to the other.

“Kazuha…?” Heizou rose on unsteady limbs, one hand braced to the mast as he watched Kazuha continue to search their surroundings. Before he could ask what he was doing, he felt a sudden, sharp yank at his subconsciousness, an eerie sense of unease bleeding into every inch of him like ink into water. A shiver ran up Heizou’s spine as his eyes darted around, searching for anything amiss, anything that would explain the sudden surge of wrong he felt.

It hit them with only a split second to brace; a downdraft that swept across the deck, catching the sails and kicking up waves as it jetted along the ocean’s surface. It spun upwards, sharp and hot and suffocating as it whipped around them.

“What in the—?!” His exclamation was cut short by a surprised yelp as Kazuha swept him up before the wind could, scooping him effortlessly into his arms like he weighed nothing. Heizou only had enough time to wrap his arms around Kazuha’s neck before the man vaulted over the railing and plunged towards the deck below, activating his vision at the last possible second to break their fall.

They landed gracefully, his unexpectedly strong arms holding Heizou tightly, who stared wide-eyed up at him, cheeks burning. Bold, indeed!

Heizou only had a short moment to appreciate his position before another growl—louder, shriller, closer to a roar —reverberated through the wooden planks beneath their feet and into their bones.

“Beidou!” Kazuha shouted towards the bridge, where Beidou stood with one hand gripping the wheel, the other holding a spyglass to her eye. She cursed, tossed the implement to Sea Drake standing by, and stepped up onto the railing.

“All hands on deck!” She bellowed as she gestured broadly to the men already present, sending them scrambling in all directions, “We’ve got a lady in waiting and a bride to walk down the aisle! I want every ballista loaded and at the ready. Anything on deck that isn’t tied down, get it tied down, now!”

A chorus of ‘aye aye, captain!’ sounded around him as every sailor set to their tasks at a breakneck pace. The clang-clang, clang-clang of the warning bell summoned the remaining crew from hiding and they too jumped to assist. Heizou could not help but watch in awe as the seemingly ragtag crew fell into step, knowing their roles instinctively like worker bees in a hive; swiftly and without question at Beidou’s command. Truly the Uncrowned Queen of the Sea.

But there was little time to marvel, not with the chaos erupting around them. The wind began to pick up, the sails above their heads opened fully to ride it wherever it deigned to take them. The orders continued, lingo and jargon that may as well have been a foreign language to Heizou shouted over the steadily rising wind. Beidou trained her sights on Kazuha and himself, and Heizou quickly wriggled out of the man’s embrace if only so he could be standing on his own two feet when their own orders were delivered.

She looked right at him, but the order she gave was not his.

“Kaz—!”

“Right!”

Their eyes met only briefly before Kazuha grabbed Heizou by the hand, “Come with me. I’m taking you below deck.” He said, voice leaving no room for questions, and began dragging Heizou towards the stairs leading downward.

What—?

“Kazuha, h-hey—” Heizou tugged at Kazuha’s grip, trying to pull his attention from the order he’d been given, but the man continued onward, eyes forward and shoulders tensed. The other sailors rushed past them, stopping only long enough to get confirmation from Beidou before tending to their stations. But Kazuha was leading him away from the action—

“Just hold on a second!” He shortened his gait in hopes of slowing Kazuha down, “At least tell me what the hell is going on!”

Kazuha only glanced over his shoulder at him but otherwise did not stop, nor did the grip on his hand loosen, “I’ll explain soon, but I need to get you to safety first.”

Safety. That’s what the order had been. To escort him below deck, find him shelter, assure he was out of the line of fire of whatever they were up against, and well clear of the crew preparing for it.

Instead of asking for his assistance—or even allowing it—Heizou had been ordered to stay out of the way, and Kazuha’s order was to assure that he did.

That realization had his hackles raised. Sure, Heizou was not a sailor and he’d certainly never crewed a ship through stormy waters, but there had to be more he could do than just hide below deck and wait like he was a child.

Like a liability.

Like he couldn’t handle it.

This wasn’t an old case best reviewed in a quiet room with a clear head. This was an active scene, a battlefront, with the victims pending and perpetrator unknown. The outcome was uncertain, but Heizou refused to be kept out of the loop when there were lives on the line other than his own. If his order was to be absent while the rest of the crew took position, then he'd be the first to mutiny.

“Kaedehara Kazuha!” Heizou grabbed Kazuha’s hand with both of his and yanked him hard enough to nearly cost the man his balance. It was not often Heizou resorted to using his physical strength to coerce someone, but if Kazuha was going to be evasive, then he’d make an exception. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head or what you think is happening in mine, but I’m not so fragile that I have to be left in the dark like some invalid.”

The outburst brought them to a stop at the top of the stairs and Kazuha finally faced him. “Heizou, that’s not—” he stepped closer, his hand still held firmly in Heizou’s, eyes pleading. “That’s not what I’m trying to—”

“Then what is it, Kaedehara?!” Heizou shouted—he hated shouting. He hated shouting at Kazuha, but archons be damned if he was going to just hide away when there was clearly a crisis happening that had caught the crew unawares enough to piss Beidou off. Not when even Kazuha was afraid of what would become of them.

“I swear I’ll be okay. Just let me help!” Heizou pleaded, but Kazuha wasn’t budging. “You don’t have to be so…” Heizou trailed off when he realized that Kazuha wasn’t looking at his face as he spoke, but rather far past him out to the sea. “…worried…?”

The wind picked up so rapidly that they could feel the ship lurch forward beneath their feet. It was only for his quick reflexes and Kazuha’s grip on his hands that he kept from stumbling. Beneath them the deep rumbling growl continued, pitching higher like a shriek of a demon demanding its release.

Then in the distance, Heizou caught sight of just what had made Kazuha so uneasy that evening; the beginnings of a cyclonic storm, the clouds around it being pulled into its swirling mass as lightning sparked along the sky. Something sinister of which they’d only ever witnessed over the islands that had earned their archon’s ire. But they were much too far from Inazuma to be her doing.

Yet that was of little worry—a storm they could navigate. A storm they could handle. No, it was what writhed beneath the twisted waves that struck the crew with fear.

“Kazuha…” Heizou breathed, unable to hide the tremor in his voice at what he knew couldn’t be there, but very obviously was. “What are we up against?”

Kazuha said nothing at first, just squeezed Heizou’s hands harder in what had to be an attempt at reassurance that he could just barely offer as they stared down the next challenge.

“How much do you know about the old gods of Liyue?”

The answer was little to nothing, but I have a feeling I’m about to get a crash course.

The ship shuddered beneath them and Heizou pulled one hand free to steady himself against Kazuha’s shoulders. He looked up at Kazuha’s face and saw the same terror he’d seen from him in his nightmares. Only this time it wasn’t at the sight of a massive wall of black coming to swallow them up, but at the first breach of a shimmering blue, serpentine head, nearly the size of the ship itself, as it rose just enough to let out a shrill cry before sinking beneath the waves, coiling around the storm, the source of the rapidly forming cyclone itself.

Here comes the bride.

Chapter Text

“Why didn’t you tell me we were rerouting to avoid a sea monster?!”

“Would you have believed me if I had?”

“I’d at least suspend my disbelief!” Heizou’s exclamations were cut off by a sudden jolt as another powerful gust of wind took hold of the sails and forced the ship off course. The bow dipped lower into the surf briefly before bucking upwards, sending a few sailors sliding across the deck.

Heizou shifted his stance to compensate for the sudden change in angle, but was knocked from his feet not by the sea, but by the man who still tightly grasped his hand. He’d only a split second to correct his footing before being sent stumbling into the relative safety of the stairwell. Heizou caught himself first; a hand on the bannister, back to the wall, one foot on a higher step than the other. And pressed to his front was Kazuha, who had given up their shared grip in favor of bracing both hands on either side of Heizou, protecting him as much as caging him in.

“Are you all right?” Kazuha asked, the unsteadiness in his voice denoting a deeper concern than his words could. Their eyes met and it took Heizou a second to analyze the situation they were in. Not just the sea serpent or the sudden storm, but how Kazuha was pressed against him, pinning him to the wall, and with no wine around to blame for any of it.

Heizou swallowed thickly, only able to meet Kazuha’s eyes in short blinks, “I should be asking you that. I’m light on my feet, remember?” Benefits of being forced to train under an esteemed martial artist; his speed and agility were already formidable without a vision to augment them. One of the scant few things he could thank his father for.

Kazuha exhaled and pushed away, but kept one hand on the bannister presumably to keep Heizou from tumbling further down if the ship were to throw them off balance again, “My apologies. This is just the exact situation I wished to avoid.”

“I get that.” Heizou slid his hand atop Kazuha’s, giving it a squeeze. “And I get why. Just tell me what I can do to help.”

The situation was rapidly sobering for both of them yet it seemed Kazuha was still struggling to process the request. His eyes cast to the darkened stairwell first, then to the open door above them, the clouds rushing across the sky as rain began to fall in sheets. “I don’t know.” He finally admitted, “I’ve been through god-fueled storms before but this is far different from what the Shogun wrapped around Inazuma.”

“Well, this storm has said god in it,” Heizou added, “And I take it we can’t circumvent it?”

Kazuha shook his head, “At this point, no.” The ship shuddered and began to list to one side, making both of them correct their footing to keep from crashing into each other. “The beast— Beisht —will most certainly make for the harbor, taking the storm with her.”

Heizou nodded along, “General vendetta against the people of Liyue?”

“Aided in the slaying of her husband twice over.”

“That’ll do it.” Heizou looked up at the sky himself and wondered how much of the weather they’d run into that day had been a result of the god’s resentment for man. “A widow rather than a bride.”

Kazuha nodded grimly, "And a spiteful one, at that.”

The motives fell into place and Heizou finally understood why Kazuha was so upset with the turn of events. It wasn't just that his predictions were off the mark, but that his efforts to circumvent the potential conflict had resulted in them sailing right into it. From the beginning it was either steer them clear of the brewing trouble altogether, or pray it didn’t boil over into battle should they find it.

Another group of sailors blew past them, some in a state of panic, others already feeling the thrill. Then there was Kazuha, expression bleak, yet fierce all the same. Now that the conflict had found them, Kazuha’s want for a peaceful voyage would be deemed cowardly compared to a sailor’s hunger for glory. And Beisht had made her intentions known; she wanted blood.

The ship dipped again and Kazuha waited for it to right itself before speaking, “It would be foolish to engage her over open waters. They are at least aware of that.” He turned to peer up the stairwell, eyes fixated on the whirling clouds far above their heads. “The crew will route the ship to ride the storm alongside her. Beidou will need me for that.”

Before Heizou could press for particulars, Kazuha pulled his hand free of the comforting touch only to brace it against the wall beside Heizou’s head. Steely eyes fixed on him in warning, but Kazuha’s brows were furrowed with fear. “I need you to stay below deck. This has nothing to do with ability or weakness; it’s purely the hazard. They may call you the Cyclone, but I do not suspect you know how to navigate one, nor would anyone expect you to.”

He was right, there was no contesting that. The issue then was not that he was seen as weaker or somehow lesser, but that he quite literally lacked the skills and experience needed to be of assistance. Logically that would be enough to have him back down, but…

I want to help him somehow. I can’t just stand here…

Heizou remained still, eyes cast to the side in contemplation, only rising to watch Kazuha as he pushed away and climbed to the third step. Above them the crew took in the sails presumably to keep them from being shredded by the high winds. If there was anyone who could navigate the tempest, it would be the crew famed for making multiple trips past Inazuma’s storm barrier during the height of the Sakoku Decree. Yet the look of fierce determination Kazuha had before was ebbing away, replaced with tense shoulders and clenched fists. It was not often Kazuha looked so uneasy and that only made Heizou more reluctant to leave his side.

Something isn’t right. Not just with the storm—

“Kaz! Zou!”

Both men whirled around to spot a woman Heizou only knew as “Mora-grubber” rushing up to them. At her side, two children huddled close together, their eyes wide with fear and wet with barely withheld tears. Terrified, as anyone would expect of a child in the midst of the chaos.

Heizou’s blood ran cold as he realized he was not the only reason Kazuha so desperately wanted to avoid this situation. 

“Mingzhu and Haoyu weren’t in their beds.” Mora-grubber was nearly out of breath as she spoke, “Have you seen them?”

Anxiety squeezed at Heizou’s throat. Two children unaccounted for was bad enough. Two missing during a life or death crisis was profoundly worse.

Without hesitation, Heizou rushed down the remaining stairs to her. “When did you last see them?” He asked, voice surprisingly level. 

“A couple of hours ago when they were put to bed—” The ship suddenly shook and the two young boys yelped in fear and clung to Mora-grubber’s dress. She did her best to soothe them, but it was clear that she’d begun to panic as well.

Something clicked inside Heizou’s mind; a switch flipped, a fire stoked back to life by the pleading gazes of two children and their guardian who feared for their safety. Sailing a ship through the weather brought on by a god’s wrath was definitely not in Heizou’s wheelhouse, but despite what his intrusive thoughts would say to the contrary, locating missing persons very much was.

There could be no room for doubt then. He would not allow it, not when the danger loomed just over the horizon. Literally.

“Kazuha!” Heizou called up the stairs to his companion. He didn’t need to tell him what he was doing; Kazuha would understand. He always did. “Stay safe.”

Kazuha blinked in surprise, then smiled with a slight nod. “You as well, Heizou.” And with that he disappeared up the steps, leaving Heizou to his own task.

Heizou’s attention turned to Mora-grubber and her two charges, “I’ll look for Haoyu and Mingzhu.” he stated firmly. No room for protest.

There was a flicker of relief on Mora-grubber’s face that was quickly replaced by grim determination. “We’ll be sheltering in the corridor leading to the mess hall.” She tugged the two young boys to her sides, both of which were eyeing Heizou hopefully as she continued, this time in warning. “Be quick. It’s going to get ugly.”

He needed no further orders.

Heizou took off down the hall, dodging the other crew members as they scrambled to get to their positions. The bunks were in a state of disarray, if not from the sudden call to action disrupting their nights, then from the storm itself toppling whatever wasn’t bolted down. It made the search more difficult—more places for a frightened child to tuck themselves into, hide their eyes so the monster would not see them. But the longer they remained hidden, the greater risk they’d come to harm.

I need all four of them safe and sound…

Heizou continued from room to room, dropping to the floor to check beneath beds and dressers, flipping blankets and pillows, recounting all the places he would have hid as a child when faced with a world that was just too much. He was running out of rooms and time both, and no children to show for them. Did they go further below deck? Above? Archons, please tell me they didn’t sneak to the upper deck—

Then he heard it: a soft whine, a call for “big brother” in Liyuen.

“Mingming!” Heizou called into the darkened room, “Mingming, are you here?”

The response was a single word whimpered between a hiccuping sob, “Zouzou?”

The cupboard! Heizou rushed to the small armoire to see one of the doors ajar. He knelt down and pulled it open to find a shivering cocoon of blankets with only a tear-streaked face peeking out.

Mingzhu, frightened and alone, but safe and in one piece.

“Hey, there you are.” Heizou said in the calmest voice he could muster in hopes of coaxing her out of the small gap she’d wedged herself in, “It’s okay. I came to rescue you.” The words were meant to offer the little girl comfort, the image of a prince coming to her aid as the dragon attacked her castle. But Heizou could not deny the rush of relief he felt from being able to say those words alone. Rescue. Objective proof that he was still capable of saving a child even if it was just from a storm.

The sentiment was effective; Mingzhu all but threw herself against Heizou’s chest, sobbing as one would expect a four-year-old should during a crisis at sea. Heizou held her close, quietly shushing her, “You’re all right. I’ve got you.”

The ship lurched suddenly and Mingzhu wrapped her little arms around Heizou’s neck and pressed her face into his shoulder, quaking from head to toe. “I’m scared…” she said in her tiny, trembling voice.

It hurt to hear, but Heizou took comfort in knowing she’d been spared the worst thanks to his efforts. “C’mon,” He lifted Mingzhu into one arm, “Let’s go to the mess hall. Mora-grubber is looking for you.” He scanned the room again, hoping for a sign of Haoyu and coming up short. “Do you know where your brother is?”

Mingzhu lifted her head just enough to look up at him with watery eyes, “H-he said he was going to help fight the monster…”

Oh.

Oh, that is not good.

Mingzhu was the youngest of the children on board, equal parts skittish and curious, and for that her brother was fiercely protective of her. Even when she had chosen to attach herself to Heizou’s side as he worked, Haoyu was always hovering close by, ready to come to her rescue at the slightest hint of discomfort.

Knowing this made his absence from his sister's side in the middle of a massive storm even more troubling.

Heizou swallowed thickly and did his best to keep the worry from his own voice, “Did he tell you where he was going to fight the monster?”

She shook her head and pressed her face back into Heizou’s neck with a watery sniffle. “H-he just said to w-wait here…”

Heizou gritted his teeth. If Haoyu claimed to want to help the crew fight, then it was highly likely he was either hiding in hopes of sneaking on deck, or had already made it there. At that age it was more likely he’d gone with the genuine desire to help the adults more than he wanted to show off. He’d fault him for his foolishness if he wasn’t six-years-old. I can admire his tenacity after I get him to safety.

First things, first.

With Mingzhu nestled safely in his arms, Heizou took off down the hall again, descending to the lowest inhabited deck and towards the lone lantern left alight. Underneath it he found Mora-grubber and the remaining two children sitting against the wall just outside the entrance to the mess hall. The doors next to them remained open, allowing them to see outside the windows lining the rear of the ship.

“Mingzhu said Haoyu ran off to fight the monster.” Heizou said quickly as he knelt down to settle the little girl into Mora-grubber’s waiting arms. “I’m going to find him.”

“Blast it, that child—” Before she could go off on a tangent, Mora-grubber drew a slow breath and clutched Mingzhu to her chest. “Thank you, Zou. We’ll hold out here.” As upset as she was at Haoyu’s disobedience, the relief of having Mingzhu back seemed to settle her nerves as much as it did the children clinging to her side. It was much the same for Heizou; solace taken in seeing the three children to safety. Three fearful voices from his dreams soothed into calm silence.

He’d allow himself to revel in it as soon as the fourth joined them.

A bolt streaked across the sky behind the ship, bright enough to light up the room and close enough that it could have damaged the hull if the ship weren’t going as fast as it was. “We must be riding close to the eye wall.” Mora-grubber’s voice was barely audible over the rolling thunder, “This is the ugly part.”

The ship shook violently and began to list to one side, the sound of creaking wood only adding to the unsettling scenario unfolding around them. Heizou was no sailor, but he knew all vessels could only go so fast before taking damage. Judging by how quickly the world blurred by them, they were probably pushing that limit if not already exceeding it. Heizou knew Beidou had been through much worse and he trusted her fully to see them through safely, but that didn’t loosen the hold anxiety had on his gut from each crack and groan.

I can’t waste any time.

“I need to go find him.” Heizou said with a note of finality and took off, ignoring Mora-grubber’s continued warnings as he rushed back through the long corridors, his ultimate destination the main deck. He called the boy's name as he passed each bunk, closet, and storage room he came across, with every call of the boy’s name becoming more urgent, more desperate. The memory of those frightened voices intruded on the sliver of comfort he’d allowed himself, overwriting relief with cries of fear—
「I’m lost! I’m scared! Please, help me!」
—Heizou squeezed his eyes shut to push the voices away— It’s not too late! I can still rescue him!

With that thought on repeat, Heizou continued pushing forward, driven like the rain in the wind.

I will find him! I will!

He was midway down the upper corridor when he heard it; a child's frightened yelp followed by a plea that Heizou couldn't make out aside from a cry of his own nickname. The sound alone was enough to set every hair on his body on end.

"Haoyu!" Heizou sprinted the rest of the way, his thoughts in a whirl of rapidly worsening scenarios, none of which would leave the forefront of his mind until he had the boy safely out of harm's way. Please be okay. Please, please be okay…!

“Zou!” The name was clearer this time, closer. A bright flash of lightning illuminated the stairwell to reveal Haoyu, sopping wet and wide-eyed as he clung to the bannister. One look at the state he was in made it obvious he had snuck onto the deck somehow. Heizou mentally kicked himself; he should have considered the possibility of either child sneaking to the upper level first since it was the more dangerous option. Maybe then he’d—

As if even nature itself sought to knock sense into him, the ship jolted, throwing him off-kilter enough that he had to brace against the wall to keep his footing. Just ahead there was a startled squeak to match, a firm reminder of who and what he needed to prioritize.

Heizou cursed under his breath, I can agonize over the holes in my approach later. Right now I need to make sure Haoyu is safe.

With renewed determination Heizou took off again, bolting the rest of the way. With a swift rescue and escort in mind, He took the steps two at a time to close the last of the gap. But just as he made to grab him, Haoyu darted up the stairs, pausing three steps from the top.

“C’mon, Zou!” Haoyu pointed emphatically towards the entry, “We gotta help—!”

Help? Before the boy could make a break for it, Heizou grabbed him by the wrist to tug him back down, “Haoyu, wait!" He stepped closer in an attempt to coax the boy back down, "I know you want to help but we need to go. It’s not safe—” 

“No! We gotta do something!” Haoyu protested, already soaked and shivering from the cold, yet he continued frantically pulling at Heizou’s grip. His youthful determination was winning out over fear. Foolishly admirable, but foolish all the same.

Heizou darted ahead of the boy and stooped on a higher step, effectively barring his way to the main deck should he try to make a run for it. “Tell me what’s going on first!” He demanded, doing his best to keep his voice even and firm. And not yell. Yelling would help no one. Haoyu was young, surely he thought he was more capable than he was. But that didn’t change the fact that he was six years old and they were up against a god and he really, truly just wanted to help. But he has to know how dangerous this situation is—

The reason for his desperation quickly became clear;

"He's up there by himself!"

Heizou stiffened, “Who—?”

His intuition answering before he even asked. Please, don't tell me he's talking about—!

A sudden burst of chilled air blew through the corridor and Heizou immediately tugged Haoyu to his chest to shield him. Brisk in comparison to the warm breezes they’d been riding throughout the voyage, and the way it flowed, as though merely caressing his skin as it sped past, was frighteningly familiar.

“Kaz—!” Haoyu called over his shoulder.

Heizou whipped his head around, recognizing the source of the wind in the worst of ways. He scrambled up the remaining steps, eyes wide with shock and awe both at the sight.

Surrounding the main mast was a column of swirling air. A windstorm—fueled by otherworldly anemo—had formed on the deck, buffeting against the gale-force winds that threatened to steal what few sails remained unfurled.

And at its center—outlined by a glow of a vision and flinching with every flash of too-close lightning—was Kazuha, barely standing and alone.

Chapter Text

When Kazuha had warned him to stay below deck, a number of scenarios had come to mind. The severity of the storm, how it would rival those that they faced in their homeland. The mythical beast that seemed intent on destroying them along with their destination out of revenge born of grief. The best of the best of the crew gathered on the bridge alongside their captain, strategizing on the fly, shouting warnings with orders to lead them to victory. Portrayals of the kind of epic sea battle that Heizou had read about, all while he remained safely below deck just to assure he didn’t get mixed into the collateral damage.

What he didn’t expect was to find Kazuha on the deck alone with no other crewmen in sight.

Why is he not on the bridge with Beidou? Shouldn’t he be guiding—

Something wasn’t right, not just with the scene before him, but Kazuha himself. Between the belts of rain Heizou could make him out; half-crouching, nearly curled unto himself, one hand clutching his vision while the other kept a desperate grip on the base of the mast to keep himself steady while the ship threatened to buck him off. And his face—the strain, the way his eyes struggled to stay open against the driving rain—

A bolt of lightning just narrowly missed the deck, illuminating everything for only a fraction of a second, just long enough for Heizou to see Kazuha recoil.

Realization struck Heizou; a bolt of its own. The lightning, he—

Heizou looked at Haoyu huddled in his arms and loosened his hold, “Haoyu, I need you to go to the mess hall and take care of the others. Mingzhu is scared and needs her big brother. Can you protect her?”

Just the words Haoyu needed to hear to be convinced. He gave a firm nod and scrambled back down the steps, pausing at the landing to shout back up at him, “You protect Kaz, too!”

Heizou gave a firm nod in return, a bit of anxiety quelled, only to be replaced with more.

Kazuha— Heizou dashed into the downpour with little regard for his own safety. It didn’t matter, not once he recognized what was happening; the way Kazuha ducked his head as the thunder reverberated around him, how he pressed his forearm against his ear to muffle the noise, white knuckled grip on his shining vision as he continued calling the autumn winds to protect not just himself but everyone on board. And the way his jaw quivered as he panted for breath, brows knit together in determination that was quickly waning into fear…

Heizou burst through the protective column of anemo with winds of his own, closing the gap between them just as it looked like Kazuha’s knees would give out.

“Kazuha!” Heizou caught Kazuha by the shoulders with one arm and steadied him with a hand around his bandaged wrist. Kazuha continued staring straight ahead, eyes wide but unfocused as though in a trance. Far away in a memory and regretfully present all at once.

It was a look that Heizou recognized intimately; they’d survived the Vision Hunt Decree, but both came away with scars. Kazuha’s just happened to be from multiple traumatic run-ins with lightning and thunder.

“Kazuha, hey, I’m right here.” Heizou urged with a slight shake of the man’s shoulder, “Talk to me…”

Whether it was the call of his name or the voice that said it, Kazuha seemed to snap partially from his daze. Lucidity filtered back into his eyes as he slowly turned his head to face Heizou.

“Heizou…?” He stared in disbelief, voice trembling and thready, almost drowned out by the surging sea cresting over the deck. For the briefest of moments Kazuha’s body relaxed, sinking into the half-hold Heizou had him wrapped in to keep him upright. A brief moment of respite accompanied by the fading wind.

The calm was broken when the storm hit them full on, startling both of them back into focus; Heizou on Kazuha’s panic, and Kazuha on Heizou’s presence amidst the looming disaster and what he needed to do to prevent it.

Kazuha scrambled to attention and called the gales forth once again, surrounding them in a funnel of wind. Only then did he look back at Heizou, eyes wide with a whole new kind of panic, “Heizou, why are you out here?” He quickly turned in Heizou’s hold to face him, his free hand grasping Heizou’s upper arm. “It’s too dangerous—!”

“That’s exactly why I’m here!” Heizou countered, “Is this what you’ve been doing this whole time?!” He wrapped his fingers around Kazuha’s vision, still clenched tightly in the man’s fist. Even against the chill of the rain it glowed hot, thrumming with power. Not enough to burn, but enough that Heizou understood why Kazuha chose to hold it in his bandaged hand. How long did he think he could keep this up?!

Kazuha’s gaze trained upward, having to squint through the rain that pelted the swirling anemo barrier, much of it still making it through the gaps. “We need to keep speed if we have any hopes of getting to Liyue ahead of Beisht.”

Heizou followed his gaze, spotting some of the smaller sails still unfurled and pulled taut by the monstrous hurricane they rode. Attempting to propel a ship of this size with an anemo vision was a fool’s errand, Surely, Kazuha knows that . Then why—

A barrier. Suddenly Heizou understood why Kazuha had put himself in such a situation; they needed to keep up with Beisht, and the only way to do that was to use their sails. To take the full brunt of the cyclonic winds would shred them in minutes, so Kazuha had guided his own wind to encapsulate them, mitigating the force while still gaining speed. A task taken at the cost of his own sanity.

Kazuha did not stand fearlessly, yet he still stood as his body and mind cried out for reprieve, for comfort. Because even wracked with the terror of those nightmarish days past, Kazuha swore to never allow another loved one to succumb to the storm. Her’s, the archon’s, or otherwise.

He wouldn’t stand alone. Not on Heizou’s watch. 

Heizou kept his hold on Kazuha’s vision and called upon the wind through his own. He may not have as much strength in the elements as Kazuha had, but they both harnessed the power of anemo. If he could channel his energy with his own body as a conduit—

“Heizou—” Kazuha’s attention on his barrier wavered when he realized what Heizou was doing, “Stop—”

“Let me help, Kazuha!” Heizou cut him off just as another wave forced the bow of the ship into the surf, then bucked upwards, sending a spray of seawater to batter their shield. “I’m a vision bearer too! If my power is no good on its own, at least allow me to support you!”

Kazuha stared at him wide-eyed and Heizou glared back, the sentiment clear on his face; their goals were the same: protect the other, the ship, and make it through the storm.

Together.

Before anything could be said further, another wave washed over the bow and portside of the ship, rushing far enough up the deck to soak their knees. The longer they spent in the storm, the higher the waves had gotten and the more the ship was getting tossed around. Heizou was unsure if that was because of how close to the inner wall of the cyclone they were getting or if Beisht herself was kicking up more water to slow them down. It was working, Heizou realized, when he noticed just how far the ship was listing.

“Captain!” Heizou heard a voice between a break in the wind, “The bilge can’t keep up!”

The statement was followed by a string of curses from both Sea Drake at the helm and Beidou, who followed up with a shout aimed towards the men huddled at the mast. “Kaz! Zou! We’re taking on too much water!”

The news was followed by Kazuha rising to his feet, his balance escaping him briefly, leaving him to lean heavily against the mast as he held his vision up once again. His eyes squeezed shut and the winds that twisted around them picked up again, spreading further out in an attempt to clear the water that had started to pool nearby. It only took a few seconds for his hand to begin to shake from the effort of keeping control of such a wide area. 

This is bad. They’d been in the thick of the storm for so long already and for as strong as Kazuha was, he was not invincible nor his energy infinite. He’d already pushed past the point of strain into exhaustion and injury just keeping the sails intact. To expend more energy to push even further—

He can’t keep this up.

I have to—

Another wave burst over the side of the ship and rushed towards them, easily overtaking Kazuha’s barrier. The man wavered, gasping for breath as he pushed more energy into his vision to reverse the literal tide.

A powerful gust whizzed past Kazuha’s head, sweeping the water back over the edge of the ship. Then, again, another rush, a fist accompanying it. Kazuha half-turned to face his companion, standing resolute, stance wide and fist taut as anemo energy swirled around it. The ship rocked and another wave splashed over the deck, threatening to further flood the vessel, only to be repelled by a swift kick, otherworldly wind guided and sped along by the embodiment of Heizou’s tenacity.

Concern transposed with awe, Kazuha stared back at his companion, “Heizou?”

“Focus on keeping the sails up.” Heizou bit out quickly as he scanned for areas of pooling water. “I’ll clear the deck.” He offered a confident grin over his shoulder in hopes of easing Kazuha’s apparent concerns. He may not have the level of control Kazuha had over the wind, but when it came to short, concentrated bursts, he had him beat. And that’s all they needed to deflect the water. 

Kazuha watched him for a second, seemingly torn as to how he should react to the turn of events. But after only the briefest of silent considerations, he gave a grim nod. “Don’t do anything careless.”

Heizou’s grin shifted into a smirk, “A bit of an impractical ask, don’t you think?” The exasperated look he got in return almost looked fond, as was expected from their collective antics.

The ship dipped and began to roll again, and the two set to work.

To those watching from the bridge, the sight must have been surreal. Kazuha, a swordsman of some renown, standing stalwart at main mast, pouring all his energy into the tempest mitigating the cyclone they’d been caught in. All the while his eyes were fixed on the other cyclone—Heizou himself—as he ran back and forth across the deck, sending high-powered gusts of anemo with each punch and kick. If there was anyone on the ship that still held doubts as to the former doushin’s capabilities in a fight, they were surely dispelled just by watching him keep the storm surge at bay with what amounted to his bare hands and sheer force of will.

Even more surreal was the source of the chaos. Just on the other side of the heaviest part of the storm was Beisht, almost completely obscured by the wall of wind and rain. Each time she breached the surface, the storm would intensify and send another band of fierce winds and rain their way. And each time she’d drop below again, it would level, then slowly begin to peter out. A barrage they only had moments at best to prepare for, erratically timed to make it that much harder to predict.

It was difficult for Heizou to tell if the shift in intensity was on purpose or if the storm truly was relying on Beisht being above the surface to power it. He just prayed things would let up quickly; he could continue on longer, but Kazuha…

Heizou looked back to his companion, relieved to see him still upright, less so how hard he was struggling to manage even that. Heizou continued to combat the surge while edging closer to the main mast and looked to the bridge, “How much further?!” Heizou shouted to Beidou, whose gaze was fixated on the serpent gliding through the water alongside the ship, now further back than before.

Beidou suddenly turned to them and with a sweeping motion of her outstretched hand gave the much needed order, “Kaz, cut it now!”

The winds that had been circling the mast suddenly ceased. The entire ship pitched forward as the sails caught the full force of the wind, catapulting them along the stormfront and leaving Beisht in their literal wake.

No longer holding the whirlwind in place, Kazuha swayed where he stood, the full brunt of his exhaustion taking hold. Fortunately, Heizou was nearby; he darted forward—no hesitation—and caught Kazuha around the shoulders, allowing him to sag bonelessly in his arms.

“Easy, easy…” He urged as he lowered Kazuha to sit with shaky limbs of his own. They settled against the mast and Heizou set about checking Kazuha for any obvious injuries while they both caught their breath.

The storm continued to whip around the ship, sending them careening along its currents as Sea Drake fought to keep them on course. Now at their backs, the raging tempest lessened minutely as Beisht dipped beneath the waves and didn’t resurface.

For a moment, Heizou dared to hope that the ordeal was over, that they’d soon be released from the serpent’s wrath and it’d be smooth sailing to Liyue.

Even without his intuition, Heizou was certain the calm wouldn’t last. Beisht might have retreated for the time being, but remnants of her spite continued, threatening to topple the ship even as they coasted further away from the eyewall. The Alcor had been let off the hook only temporarily and the crew had no time to spare.

“Check for damage.” Beidou ordered the crew as she descended the stairs to set to work herself. “Hull first, wheel and oars after. We don’t have much time.” Her eyes fixed on Kazuha slumped against the mast and Heizou at his side, “Good work, you two.” It was clear the crew hadn’t time to pat themselves or anyone else on the back, least of all Beidou herself. Yet even if clipped, the touch of pride in her eye and the slight smirk on her lips conveyed her gratitude just as well. Kazuha seemed to understand this, judging by his worn yet genuine smile and slight nod he offered in return.

She then looked to Heizou and nodded, as though to say, “Take care of him.”

Heizou nodded back, then returned his focus back to Kazuha.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” He asked just loud enough for Kazuha to hear over the wind and no one else.

Kazuha—breaths still tremulous and shallow—offered a tired shake of his head. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a streak of violet crossed the sky above their heads, dangerously close to catching the mast they rested beneath. The crack of thunder that followed was overwhelmingly loud, making both of them wince. Kazuha’s breath hitched, then quickly escalated into near hyperventilation, his vision clenched to his heaving chest. His eyes darted across the sky as if seeking something only found in the fearsome flashbacks he was too exhausted to keep at bay.

“Kazuha. Kazuha.” Heizou gently grasped Kazuha’s shoulders to steady him. “Focus on me.” He kept his voice firm, but still soft in tone. If Kazuha’s episodes were anything like his own, Heizou knew he needed someone to help pull him away from his thoughts. Someone to guide him towards a safe place to land so he could come down.

What hell did you put yourself through for our sake?

Heizou was about to start counting for him when Kazuha breathlessly spoke, “I-I’m sorry…I still—” Another flash and a growl of thunder had him tensing, a shaky gasp sucked through his nose. “S-still have—”

“It’s okay.” Heizou cut him off, his voice quieter that time, as though speaking above a whisper would bring another bolt down upon them. He shifted closer to Kazuha, their shoulders bumping, chilled skin against soaked fabric. A point of contact and an opening for more should he seek it. “Still have trouble with lightning?”

Kazuha swallowed thickly and nodded, “It…It is not as bad as it used to be…but to be in it… ” As he spoke, Kazuha began to anxiously pluck at the bandages of his right hand. They’d come loose at some point during the ordeal and had begun to unravel, exposing the mottled scars left from the very day his fear was born. One had to wonder if he kept it bandaged because they were still tender to the touch, or because Kazuha didn’t want to look at them.

“I know.” Heizou reached across Kazuha’s lap to gently guide his hands apart to halt his picking. A new focus for anxious fingers in the form of Heizou’s own hand. “We’re okay, Kazuha. Just focus on breathing, just like you showed me…”

Were they okay? Neither knew, but even superficial words were comforting in a crisis. That’s all either of them needed.

Kazuha nodded, closed his eyes, and curled his fingers around Heizou’s hand, his safe place found. All the while the ship was rocked and tossed about by the storm, the crew rushing past them as if they weren’t there at all. That was fine by him; he didn’t need anyone else knowing their struggle, even if Heizou himself sometimes forgot that said struggle was shared. An invisible wound they could only grin and endure.

Never thought I’d find comfort in that.

Their interlude was short lived. Around them everything grew quiet. The wind, the waves, the crewmen, the boat itself. It all fell to a stifling standstill. His breath and heart with it. Heizou’s eyes darted around, scanning their surroundings for anything amiss, only seeing the crew frozen in place, eyes locked to a point beyond the horizon.

Dread creeped up his spine and he instinctively squeezed Kazuha’s hand. The look exchanged between them conveyed the same fear:

Something is coming.

Far in the distance he spotted something; glimmering gold, ascending into the sky like a firework in slow motion. The crew watched, confused as much as enthralled as it rose higher and higher, as if it was meant to join Celestia among the heavens.

And with its rise the wind made a ferocious return. Waterspouts circled ahead of them just as before, the electricity crackled across the clouds, coalescing into a single massive bolt that struck a rapidly forming whirlpool. Heizou staggered to his feet, battling against the weight of fatigue, and watched with a mix of awe and abject terror as he witnessed the beast rise hundreds of meters into the air. Far larger than he ever thought to comprehend even in stories. Far closer and angrier than he ever wished to face.

“Shit!” Beidou cursed and flung her spyglass to Sea Drake, “I told Ning to wait—!”

The beast let an ear-splitting shriek and the cyclone closed around them once again, enveloping everything around them in a veil of wind and rain.

The storm returned with a vengeance. Only this time, the storm was Beisht herself. And she had her sights set on Liyue Harbor.

From the bridge, Beidou addressed her crew, “Our lady is ordained and at the altar! Let’s get this reception started! Everyone at your stations!” The sailors around her didn’t wait for her to finish; they already knew what was coming. They’d been preparing for the encounter long before they left Inazuma.

“Full speed to Guyun!”

All the sails unfurled and caught the wind at once, propelling the ship forward nearly as fast as they’d gone with the storm, only this time it was to trail Beisht instead of overtaking her. Heizou braced against the mast as the ship skipped along the wake, heart pounding as they too sped towards Liyue, diverting away from the harbor and towards a collection of craggy islands to the north.

The lights caught his eye before the building itself did. Heizou looked up past the serpent’s head and to the object that had seemingly kicked off round 2 of the assault; an opulent structure, an otherworldly glittering gold coalescing around it as it raced towards the vengeful beast. A temple? A fortress? Or, wait—

“The Jade Chamber.” Kazuha answered just as quickly as it popped into Heizou’s mind. He’d never had the privilege to see it in person, only in illustration. But Heizou was well aware that it’d been destroyed some time ago. Dropped into the sea during an incident that the Qixing had been less than forthcoming about to other nations. Given what he was seeing now, he had a few ideas as to what actually happened.

Suddenly Beidou’s cursing made sense.

“Everyone into position!” Beidou bellowed as she marched past where Kazuha and Heizou sat and towards the bow of the ship, checking each sailor and their artillery. The fight was upon them and it was going to take everything the crew had to win.

Heizou knelt next to Kazuha and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, “We should get below deck.” He didn’t think it necessary to elaborate further. Surely Kazuha would understand his reasoning—

The shake of the man’s head threw Heizou off. “I need to stay topside.” Kazuha insisted, carefully rising to his feet through what had to be a severe lack of self-preservation. “If they have need of me and I am below deck—”

“Kazuha,” Heizou grabbed his upper arm to steady him, “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep pushing.” He kept his voice level but he couldn’t hide the steel in his eyes nor the fire building in his chest.

Kazuha opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly cut off by the sound of dozens of glowing projectiles whizzing through the air overhead and colliding with the beast. Before Heizou could react he was suddenly pulled down, crouching on the deck as what bullets missed their mark flew past the ship—glittering fallout from whatever the Jade Chamber was firing off.

Beisht growled and reared back to strike, but was stopped short by another round of artillery fire, this time from the direction of the very archipelago they’d been sailing towards. Heizou had only a split second glimpse at the Liyuen soldiers in the distance, the same golden glow much like what the Jade Chamber possessed flaring only briefly before another assault was launched against the beast.

“In position, captain!” shouted Sea Drake from the bridge.

Aren’t we too close to the line of fire?! The panic was steadily rising in Heizou’s chest, pressure building with each stone that collided with the serpent and burst into stardust over their heads. The beast opened its fanged maw, sparks of divine energy coalescing into a glowing sphere of energy. Retaliation in the form of a blast of her own.

The sailors stood at the ready, their weapons aimed skyward. The same burning gold that seemed to coalesce out of the air itself formed around the freshly loaded bolts. Then with a sweep of her arm, Beidou gave the order, “Fire!”

The ballistas went off one after another, launching burning slugs at Beisht’s towering form.

Then again, all three in unison, a coordinated attack against the beast out to destroy their home.

Beisht hissed and thrashed around, head whipping between the Jade Chamber above, the soldiers below, and the Alcor circling nearby. A solid split to her focus so she couldn’t target all three battalions at once. It was clear the people of Liyue were far more united in their efforts to protect their home from threats than Inazuma could ever hope to be.

Beidou called for another volley and the crew set to work without question. Meanwhile, Kazuha remained seated against the mast, watching the battle escalate with each passing second. Even though it seemed like they had the upper hand, the apprehension remained on his face.

“This is insane.” It was something out of a novel yet he was living it, not as the main character but a bystander watching as the heroes of the tale fought valiantly against the enraged beast. With each barrage that struck she let out a shriek, her serpentine body twisting in a vain attempt at avoiding the blasts. Whittled down, bit by bit, her movements became more fatigued and erratic. She twisted beneath the surface, her long tail slicing through the water and upward like a blade, swinging at the soldiers on the island. A flash of gold lit on impact and her tail ricocheted away, repelled by the same magic that protected the Jade Chamber.

The Alcor was not so blessed. “Steer clear of her!” Beidou ordered, “Stay just in firing range. One swipe and we’re fish food!”

A prickle of unease sparked up Heizou’s spine. They had the upper hand from the look of things but his intuition told him that wasn’t going to last. Heizou looked to Kazuha, still worn from using his vision to such extreme lengths, and tugged at his arm, “We need to get below deck,” he urged, the tables turned, “Something is—”

Before he could finish his warning, Beisht roared the loudest she had yet and the Alcor suddenly dropped lower into the water. No, it was the sea itself that dropped, pulled steadily from beneath them. It was a phenomenon Heizou had witnessed before, one that made him instinctively want to run for high ground.

No earthquake, but—

“All hands, tsunami incoming!” Beidou gave the command and the crew scrambled to follow. It would be impossible to surmount a wave of such size, so their only choice was to outrun yet another of Beisht’s attacks. The water wheels kicked into high gear and the sails were repositioned to catch the wind to propel them out of the path of the wave.

It was futile. Heizou didn’t need to be a sailor to see that. Too high and too close, even a ship as famously fast as the Alcor would not stand a chance. Yet they tried—they had to—throwing their all into clearing as much of the wave as they could before it overtook them. Perhaps then there would be some survivors. A valiant sailor’s last stand.

This is it, the gravity of the situation hit Heizou hard and fast, This is where we go down.

It was just like his dream —the nightmare he’d had the night before. A wall of death rising over them with no escape. He and Kazuha could only watch as the inevitable came upon them. They’d be washed away, pulled to the ocean floor, shattered against the rocks, all before their new adventure even had a chance to begin.

Such an anticlimactic end to my story.

Behind him, Kazuha wobbled to his feet, a hand braced against the mast as he turned to Heizou. Eyes trained on him, brows furrowed, lips tugged into a thin line, Kazuha stood between him and the impossibly high wall of water as though he could shield them with his resolve alone. 

They locked eyes and Heizou was sure that Kazuha could see his barely suppressed fear, just as he could see Kazuha’s, past the thin veil of his conviction.

Without fanfare Kazuha pulled Heizou into his arms and held him tightly, the full body embrace catching Heizou so off guard that even the butterflies weren’t quite sure where to flutter. “K-Kazuha?” Heizou only barely managed, his voice difficult to make out over the din of the rapidly rising wave, even to himself. Trembling even as he held firm against him, Kazuha gave him one last squeeze before pulling back, his hands ghosting around Heizou’s waist, already abandoning the search for more.

Kazuha’s eyes locked on his again as he backed away, lips forming words that were lost to yet another ear-splitting roar from the beast that sought their demise. A fresh panic rose where the butterflies once were as Heizou watched Kazuha bolt up the stairs towards the bridge, launching himself skyward with a rush of anemo.

“Wait, Kazuha—!” Heizou called after him, the butterflies turning to stone in his stomach as Kazuha landed less than gracefully on the sloped roofing and dashed up the shingles. What is he—?! Heizou started after him, only to feel a slight tug on his waist where he’d hoped Kazuha’s hands would stay. He looked down, wide eyes trailing the length of rope—a secure line left half-wrapped around the center mast, the other end knotted loosely around Heizou’s waist so as to tighten if pulled. He surmised it’s purpose was to reel him back in should he be swept overboard, but the intended message was clear:

“Stay put. Don’t try to stop me.”

Kazuha, you—! Heizou took several steps back in an effort to see where Kazuha was running, only for the man to disappear from sight as he bolted across the roof towards the rear of the ship. Before he could give the bizarre trajectory much thought, the ship shuddered and was violently pushed forward again by a new sweep of wind, strong enough to startle the crew on deck. The sails billowed outwards and the ship—listing ever further with the effort to keep on course and at speed—charged along the trough of the wave.

The plan clicked frighteningly fast in Heizou’s head. He’s actually trying to—

“Kazuha!!” Another gale blew across the deck, nearly taking Heizou off his feet. An incredible power that only someone like Kazuha could manage showcased in a spectacular effort to evade the tsunami.

Sea Drake yelled something Heizou couldn’t make out and Beidou bolted past to join him on the bridge. The surge of wind continued to blast over them, driving them onward as the tsunami barrelled ever closer. 

They might stand a chance if Kazuha could hold out, but could he?

His answer rode with the wind itself. A loss of speed, a swift change in trajectory for a half second as the flow of anemo energy was interrupted by an unseen force. Like the unsteady beat of an injured beast’s wings as it struggled, determined to escape its fate yet rapidly coming to accept that the end was in sight. Dread overtaking hope, yet still fueled by the innate will to live. To survive. To protect.

A myriad of emotions carried onward by the last stitch effort to save them all. Kazuha was already past the point of no return, yet he continued because stopping would be the end of everyone, but if he were to push with everything he had—

With a quick glance to the rope tied to his waist —more than long enough— Heizou sprinted up the stairs himself. It was foolish, reckless, and whatever Beidou shouted at him as he darted past. He didn’t care. It was better than standing there waiting for the end. I might not make it in time, but I have to try—

Heizou scrambled onto the terracing off the side of the deck, using the bit of height advantage and a burst of anemo to launch himself onto the first tier of the gazebo. He smacked against the ledge with a pained grunt, hands scrabbling for purchase against the slippery tiles until he managed to hoist himself up enough to swing a leg onto the roof.

I have to reach him. Heizou repeated inwardly to urge himself onward even as the ship began to lean into the crest of the wave. The closer he got to him, the more the wind pushed Heizou away, making his attempts to climb even more treacherous.

Just a little further. Just a little more and I can help him.

Heizou shouted for him again, the name cut off by a roar and a burst of white light. His head snapped up in time to see the beam they’d interrupted earlier fire from Beisht’s maw and collide with something mid-air, sending it flying across the sky into the stone formations nearby. Yet another attempt to halt the inevitable thwarted by the sheer strength of the vengeful god.

More shouting, muffled by the howl of their oncoming demise. Heizou turned to see their escape route narrowing, the serpent’s fury pushing the wave harder and faster. 

His foot slipped from under him and Heizou fell, sliding a ways down the slant, his descent only halted by a quick grab of the ridge. But there was no time to fret over the precariousness of the climb; Heizou rolled onto his stomach, braced a foot against the sturdy wood and pulled himself onto his knees. Even crawling was better than waiting for their doom.

“Heizou!”

Heizou’s head snapped up and their eyes met—stunned vermillion to frantic peridot—for only a flash as the wave darkened the world around them.

Dozens of thoughts flooded into Heizou’s mind; how hard they fought, what would become of them now, if the ship would be destroyed or if they’d all just be swept away.

They both knew what came next; the same thought was shared as Kazuha abandoned his tenuous grip on the rafter to reach for Heizou’s outstretched hand.

If we have to go down, at least let me go at his side!

Then it hit them—not the wall of water set to wash them away, but a frosty rush, like a blizzard descending from the mountains of Dragonspine, everything was brought to a standstill by a surge of sheer cold. Heizou watched, awestruck, as the very ocean beneath them crystallized into a sheet of white. It continued across the water, up the massive wall they’d been fighting to escape, and in an instant froze it solid.

For a blissful few seconds all was quiet. No shouting, no waves, no storm, just the crew staring at their oncoming annihilation, brought to a complete stop by an unknown force.

It lasted only seconds before the wall cracked and collapsed, reducing the tsunami to shattered chunks of ice that plummeted into the ocean. The Alcor was suddenly set loose of its frozen binds and it swung in the opposite direction it’d been tilting, gravity righting the ship before anyone could fully process what they’d just witnessed.

Another barrage of ballista flares hit Beisht dead-on. Enraged and wounded, she thrashed about, churning the already turbulent waters up even more. The ship rocked dangerously again, bucking beneath them worse than before. The crewmen held fast to their weaponry, ready to begin their battery again.

By some miracle, Beisht chose then to give up the fight. She twisted away from the assault and dove down, pulling the water around her into a vicious whirlpool as she disappeared beneath the surface for what everyone hoped would be the last time.

And just like that, she was gone with only wild waves left in her wake.

Only then did any of them dare think it was over.

“Did we…?” Heizou asked aloud as he clung to the ridge, waiting for the waters to calm for fear the ship’s intense rolling would send him flying. He looked back up to his original destination and breathed a small sigh of relief; Kazuha was there, kneeling at the ledge, blinking owlishly at the drop to the deck as though calculating what he’d need to do to get down. Beyond spent, completely dazed, and swaying unsteadily with each wave that rocked the ship…to say Kazuha was in rough shape was an understatement.

“Stay there a second! Let me just…” It took a moment for Heizou to get his feet under him. Between the ice, the choppy surf, and just how completely exhausted the whole night had left him, it was slow going at best. That did little to deter him when it came to Kazuha. 

At the far edge of the roof, Kazuha wobbled at the whim of the ship. His arms hung limply at his sides, his hair soaked and plastered to his pallid face. Already too worn, even the act of lumbering to his feet left him wheezing, his knees threatening to give out more with each passing second.

A twitch of panic squeezed Heizou’s chest, “Stay down! I’m— fuck!” His foot slipped out from under him, nearly costing him his balance, “ — almost there!”

A wave rose beneath the ship once again, surely spawned from whatever Beisht was doing beneath the surface. It heaved them upwards, a slow rise to the very top of the crest, a rapid realization of what was next. It was then that Kazuha slowly looked Heizou’s way, a tiny, exhausted smile upon his lips before his eyes rolled back and his knees buckled.

The ship dropped and so did Kazuha.

“NO—!” Heizou clambered across the slick tiles, trying to get his feet beneath him in a desperate attempt at reaching Kazuha in time to catch him, but to no avail. The rough seas sent the ship lurching—bow first—into the waves as it jumped the crest and smacked into the surface hard enough to shake even the veteran sailors.

And Kazuha, no longer able to right himself, was sent tumbling onto the sloped roof. Heizou lunged for him in an attempt to close the distance, but despite his efforts he could only watch, horrified, as Kazuha impacted the stone tiles with a sickening thud. Momentum took him then, rolling him off the edge, narrowly missing a second impact on the way down before plunging into the waters below.

“KAZUHA!!”

Heizou scuttled to the ledge, only narrowly avoiding slipping off himself. With shaking hands he clung to the roof tiles, his terrified stare fixated on the choppy waves as the ship rocked. He could hear Beidou shouting, calling for a search, asking him questions, beckoning him closer, to back away from the edge. But Heizou’s mind refused to process any of it. All he could do was remain crouched on the roof, white-knuckle grip on the stone shingles, the world slowing to an agonizing crawl as he waited for Kazuha to come back up.

But he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

No…No, this can’t…

The wind, the waves, the shouts, the screams, all bled together. A slurried backdrop while his mind replayed the final seconds of that beautiful, sorrowful smile, fearing it’d be the last time he’d ever see it.

The last time he’d see Kazuha.

Kazuha…!

For the second time, Heizou found himself staring over the edge of the deck at the churning water below, feeling as though his entire world had fallen apart.

Like the remnants of a village after a fierce storm, he’d been scattered and cast adrift into the sea. The broken pieces of his life, his future, his everything had been swept far away from all he’d ever known, then left to sink further and further until they were entirely engulfed by the deep, cold nothing. He had stood at the edge and contemplated throwing what little of himself remained to the waves and prayed that next time he’d be given a better lot in life, where his efforts to help others didn’t lead to his own demise.

And for the second time, Heizou realized the only thing holding what was left of him together was the soft smile and gentle touch of a samurai with a wanderlust heart. The man who’s world had ended with a bolt of lightning. Who had risen from the ashes of his loss to face the storm head on and walked away triumphant. The man who had gathered the fragments Heizou thought long lost to the tide and stitched them back together one by one. The man who set out to prove that what remained could be mended by time and kindness, and the comfort of companionship that only his presence provided.

The first time, the only thing keeping Heizou from jumping was Kazuha.

But this time, it was Kazuha who made him want—no, need— to jump. And there’d be no talking him down.

“Heizou, don’t—!”

Beidou’s orders were ignored as Heizou tossed his sandals to the dock below. The rope cinched tightly around his waist and with only a deep breath and a silent promise, Heizou leapt into the dark and choppy waves.

Bitter cold rushed up around him, stinging his skin and threatening to steal his breath before he even had a chance to take in his surroundings. Immediately he felt the water grab hold of him, suck him further under, tangling him in a web of currents intent on washing him away. It was natural to struggle—logical, even—yet Heizou endured it, transposing fear with determination as he allowed the flow to carry him away. Down, down, down where Kazuha was.

A muffled screech was his only warning before the undertow changed course and sent him hurdling sideways. Heizou fought against it, tried to swim out of it, desperate to maintain control on his descent. He only barely managed to catch sight of the spectacle happening nearby, at the very edges of the whirlpool formed from Beisht’s escape. In the hollow of the tides was Beisht engaged in another skirmish against man, this time on her home turf. But he hadn’t the bandwidth to spare to marvel. Every second that passed was seconds Kazuha didn’t have.

Kazuha…Kazuha where are you…!

It was only by sheer luck that he spotted him; a flicker of light, a teal glow that acted as a beacon in the murky depths. The only sign of life in an otherwise lifeless figure sinking slowly deeper into the swirling current.

There!

After a brief struggle, Heizou broke free of the riptide and paddled his way downward. Heart pounding from the exertion, the chill stiffening his limbs, the adrenaline fueling him alongside his desperation to keep going . Just a bit more— He paddled harder, ignoring how his lungs burned with need of air, the dizziness slowly taking hold— I’m almost there, I just need—

Then finally, finally he felt the faintest brush of cloth beneath his numb fingers. Heizou grabbed a fistful and yanked as hard as he could, freeing Kazuha from the depths trying to swallow him and into the safety of his arms at last.

There was no time for celebration. Already starved for oxygen, Heizou was at risk of succumbing to the tide himself, his limbs already leadened and vision growing dark. Yet he pressed on, clutching Kazuha tightly to his chest as he used the last of his strength to kick towards the light.

Heizou broke through the surface with a gasp and a fit of sputtering coughs. The first thing he registered was the absence of waves, the clouds above them almost eerily still with the absence of the serpent god. Something he could take comfort in as he gathered his bearings, relief in the stillness once compared to the turmoil they’d encountered that night.

Such comfort was short-lived when Heizou realized the stillness extended to the man in his arms.

“Kazuha?” Heizou gently shook him. He went down hard enough to knock himself unconscious for sure, but—

No reaction. Nothing save for Kazuha’s head lolling back against Heizou’s shoulders. Skin pale, blue-tinted lips parted, motionless.

Panic seized Heizou’s limbs; he isn’t breathing—

He heard a muffled shout in the distance before there was a sharp tug at his waist. The rope dug into the bare skin of his back and sides as he and Kazuha were reeled in like the catch of the day. The pain was only vaguely felt; all his fuzzy mind could focus on was Kazuha, how still he was, and the struggle to keep the man’s head above the water even if it meant risking going under himself.

The world blurred by; he registered being pulled and lifted, strong arms lugging him up a rope ladder and over the railing. But his focus remained on Kazuha and clinging to him with cold-numbed fingers even as they were spilled onto the deck.

There were people talking around them, he knew, but the world may as well have been silent, just as Kazuha was.

“Kazuha…!” Heizou scrambled onto his knees, his body running on automatic. Breathing. Breathing. He’s not breathing. I need to get him breathing. I need to…

If he were of a clearer mind, Heizou may have bemoaned losing his first kiss to resuscitating a victim of drowning. But this wasn’t just a victim; it was Kazuha and Kazuha needed him to act. Any fretting to be done could be done later once he was safe.

Heizou walked himself through the well-learned but never utilized steps— tilt chin up, lower jaw, pinch nose, lean in, and— then he pressed his lips to Kazuha’s to force air into stilled lungs.

If only circumstances had been different; Heizou might have found the softness of Kazuha’s lips a comfort. But as he broke away, all he could think of was how cold he was. Unresponsive, unmoving.

“C’mon, Kazuha, breathe—” Heizou shifted further down Kazuha’s body and clasped his hands over his chest, thrusting in time with his own frantic heartbeat and praying it’d be enough. “Breathe for me, Kazuha! Breathe!”

Nothing. Kazuha remained still save for what Heizou could manage with his own hands.

Cursing, Heizou leaned in to press his lips over Kazuha’s, giving him another two breaths before going back to compressions. “Wake up, wake up!” He paused just long enough to shake Kazuha before resuming, as if he was merely napping and was just too stubborn to wake.

Yet, still nothing. Not a sound nor wince nor breath. Just a cold, lifeless body.

Hot tears pricked at Heizou’s eyes and threatened to spill over. No, no, no, no, not again. “Wake up, damn you!” He was yelling. He knew he was yelling in front of everyone, that there were warm hands on his shoulders that tried to urge him away that were shrugged off so he could continue putting everything he had into bringing his friend back.

“No, no, no…!” No, this isn’t happening. I can’t…he… Heizou knelt down to give another breath, feeling Kazuha’s chest rise beneath his hand, but nothing further.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing even as his arms shook from the exertion, even as he shouted, “You can’t die on me! You’re supposed to see me to Liyue, aren’t you?!” Heizou cried. Tears normally reserved for the privacy of his own breakdowns were on full display and he didn’t care who saw. If Kazuha was…If Kazuha was really…

Please! He pleaded as he forced another breath into still lungs, a touch of lips he’d wished he had a chance to experience at a happier time. Not again! Please not again! Kazuha, you can’t. You can’t—

“Don’t leave me! Please, Kazuha—!”

As if finally heeding his pleas, the still body beneath Heizou’s hands suddenly convulsed and a gush of water erupted from Kazuha’s mouth alongside a fit of coughs. “Kazuha!” Heizou gasped as he quickly rolled him onto his side lest he choke on what his body was desperately trying to expel.

“That’s it…Get it all up.” Heizou coaxed as he held Kazuha steady even though he himself was a trembling mess. “I’ve got you…J-just breathe…”

It wasn’t until Kazuha—gasping for breath as shivers wracked his worn body—finally sought his gaze with his own that Heizou dared to let himself relax. And with that serene smile that was almost lost to the tide, Kazuha shattered what was left of Heizou’s restraint with a whisper-soft question, “Did we make it…?”

A flood of emotions cascaded over him like the wave they narrowly escaped and Heizou let himself be swept away. Heizou pulled Kazuha into his arms as carefully as his weary limbs could manage and held him tightly to his chest as tears washed away what was left of his walls.

“We made it.” Heizou whispered against Kazuha's crown, reassurance for the both of them. “W-we’re safe…” Heizou tried to keep his voice from shaking and failed miserably, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that the entire crew witnessed him falling apart because he finally, finally was fast enough to save someone. Every breath the other took filled his entire being with relief.

A warm blanket was laid over Heizou’s shoulders, followed by a firm hand. “You two really are a pair…As brave as you are reckless.” She said, worn herself but glowing with pride. “Sit tight. Yinxing is getting the infirmary cleaned up.” She paused to look between the two of them, eyes lingering on Kazuha resting against Heizou's chest, “Thank you, both of you.”

Heizou didn’t have the energy to do much more than smile and nod. His intuition told him there was a lecture in his future, but at the moment he imagined Beidou was too relieved that everyone was alive to care.

That sentiment was shared. Relieved to be alive, relieved they’d all made it through the storm in one piece. And Kazuha, who was ready to give his life to save the crew, had not been lost. Heizou had made sure of it and that fact alone would allow him to rest easy.

Above them the sky finally began to clear, the battle against the serpent elsewhere coming to an end just like theirs had against the sea; victorious. 

In his arms, Kazuha shifted, not to pull away or stand on his own, but to huddle closer—for warmth or comfort or both—his exhaustion relieving him of his boundaries as well. Heizou might have been flustered if he wasn’t so weary himself. Instead he settled his arms around his shoulders, cheek resting atop Kazuha’s head as they both basked in the warmth. 

Truly a sight to behold; a blue sky, the morning sun, the dawn of a new day. And ever closer in the distance was Liyue Harbor, the beginning of the next chapter of his story.

Their story.

“It’s quite a view, isn’t it…?” Kazuha murmured, already beginning to nod off, “I never tire of seeing it…”

Heizou hummed, but he wasn’t looking up at the sky anymore. Instead he admired the man huddled against him, and the hand that sought his even in sleep. A far fairer view.

“It really is…”

Chapter Text

It had taken them another day and a half to finally dock in Liyue Harbor.

The Alcor, while having come out of the storm intact, had enough damage to her hull that Beidou thought it best to bring her to port proper while they did repairs. Thankfully, a very grateful benefactor offered to foot the bill in its entirety as thanks for defending Liyue. Beidou would have been a fool to turn down such an offer, especially if the money was coming from the Tianquan directly.

“It’ll probably be another two weeks before she’s back to full speed.” Beidou mused as what remained of the crew filed down the gangplank to spend their extended stay ashore. “It’s an unplanned vacation, but a vacation nonetheless. Though I’m guessing you don’t plan on treating it that way.”  

She turned to face Heizou, who was presently atop his usual crate at the stern of the ship. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon restlessly pacing the upper deck, growing antsier as the city grew closer on the horizon. It was only when they made it to port that he finally settled, but that didn’t mean his mind wasn’t working overtime.

He shifted atop the crate, a worn smile given for confirmation. “As much as I would like to, I have quite a bit on my to-do list.” He held up a hand, tucking a finger to count off each task he had ahead of him, “First I’ll need to find a place to stay, then Kazuha suggested I register with the Adventurers’ Guild for some quick work. Establish myself in the area that way.”

Beidou nodded along, “Sounds like you have something of a plan.”

“I have an outline, at least,” Heizou leaned back on his hands to keep himself from fidgeting too much, “I have a feeling making anything more rigid than that will result in more trip-ups than steps forward.” His attention shifted to the sailors filing down the gangplank in twos and threes with belongings in hand, ready to spend their hard-earned time ashore. Home for some, a foreign retreat for others. Figuring out which it would be for him hadn’t made it onto the list, not with so many other variables to worry about.

Beidou leaned back against the crate, arms crossed over her chest as she too observed the crowd. A quiet moment of contemplation. Heizou had yet to express it, but he appreciated how the woman knew when to pry and when to let silence do the talking. He imagined that was one of many things that made her respected as a captain; knowing her sailors, how they tick, and when to step in. Or, in this case, when to remind him he wasn’t alone.

“Offer’s still on the table, you know. Joining up with the Crux.” She smirked, ever confident, yet it somehow seemed soft when aimed at Heizou. “We could use a guy with your range of skills.”

“As tempting as that is—” Heizou slid off the crate, pausing to stretch with arms high over his head, “—now that I’m here, I want to see what options are out there. This is my fresh start, you know? Gotta make the most of it.”

Beidou gave a good-natured laugh herself and clapped him on the back, “Don’t worry, I get it. Just know that if you’re ever in a bind, there’s a spot for you here.”

The sentiment alone had Heizou second-guessing his choice to turn down her offer, but he held fast. There were things he still needed to figure out for himself; where to go from here, what his future held, how he could shape it into something better than what he had before. All the uncertainties only served to further fray his nerves. The sooner he could settle things, the better.

"Here, you'll need this." Before Heizou could get too lost in the endless what-ifs he faced, Beidou gently grasped one fidgety hand and placed a pouch of mora in his upturned palm. Judging by the weight, it was a fair sum. “Your pay.” Beidou said with both hands on her hips and a broad grin on her face.

Heizou’s brows knit together in confusion, “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but our agreement—”

“Was to provide you passage from Inazuma to Liyue, yes. But I think the work you put in went above your fare, so take this bonus.” She gave Heizou a solid thump on the shoulders for good measure, “Use it to get settled…and see a tailor. Making job connections works better if you’re not in your underclothes.”

Heizou made a show of examining his dirty top, borrowed pants, and too-big sandals, “And here I thought it showed how hard-working I was.”

“For a shipyard, maybe. Some of the merchants might side-eye you, though.”

“Fair point. I’ll add that to the list, then.” Heizou scratched the back of his neck—a nervous habit—and grimaced at the amount of filth that came away under his nails, “Towards the top.”

The two shared a light-hearted chuckle that quickly faded into a fond sigh. “Thank you, Captain.” Heizou gave her another, more genuine smile then. One filled with gratitude that he was certain would never be enough. “If it weren’t for your kindness—”

Beidou cut him off with a snicker and dismissive wave, “What’s with the formalities? I told you, you can call me Beidou when it’s just us. You earned that.” she gently ruffled his hair, truly acting like the big sister that Kazuha made her out to be. Steady, reliable, a port during a storm. Her reassurance felt genuine, her orders a comfort. Much like Sara had been for him.

Heizou tried not to think too much about that parallel.

“If you really want to thank me,” Beidou continued, “Do it by taking care of yourself.” Her eyes tracked past Heizou and the smirk returned in force, “And this guy.”

From behind him came Kazuha, a satchel slung over his shoulder that Heizou assumed contained most of his belongings and then some. The man traveled light, usually with just the clothes on his back and whatever could fit into the various pockets sewn into his attire. So to see him with much else was an oddity in itself. “What about this guy, exactly?”

“Nothing.” Beidou shrugged, “Just talking about Heizou going ashore. Are you going with?”

“Yes, of course.” Kazuha answered Beidou with a nod before his gaze fixed upon Heizou, “It is your first time in Liyue, correct? I’d be remiss if I were to leave a dear friend to venture into an unknown land by himself.”

It was, and they’d discussed Kazuha showing him around previously, but the way he worded it and that look set his heart aflutter in a way he’d yet to dissect.

There were…a lot of things he still needed to dissect about him and Kazuha, many of which had become more salient since the night of the incident. Things he hadn’t had the time nor the mental bandwidth to tackle, let alone the fortitude to admit anything to himself. 

He especially didn’t have time to deal with it at the present, not with his entire future and all its potential just a short walk away.

Still, did he have to phrase it like that?

Heizou fought back the heat in his cheeks and schooled his expression into something closer to nonchalant than anxious. “A personal tour? How could I say no?” He slid off the crate to stand at Kazuha’s side, smiling warmly as he bumped his shoulder.

“Then, if you’re ready to depart…” Kazuha turned back to Beidou, offering an almost mischievous smile to the woman, “Thank you, anegimi. Do give our regards to Lady Ningguang?”

At first Beidou seemed taken aback by the comment, but it quickly faded into a wry grin. “Get going, troublemaker.”

With farewells given, the two descended the gangway, falling into step side by side. The pier ahead of them was buzzing with voices and motion, a new sea for them to ford through. Past them were the grand stone steps that lead to the city. From a distance they looked steep, nearly vertical. The idea of traversing it physically wasn’t so daunting as it was metaphorically, knowing what lay ahead.

That’s where I need to start, huh? No turning back…

But…

He glanced to Kazuha walking alongside him—relaxed, confident, eyes to the afternoon sky and the birds flying free far overhead—and felt some of the fear fade away. The path ahead still felt daunting, yet somehow more manageable with the knowledge he wasn’t going alone. 

Yet that came with its own set of concerns.

“Are you sure you feel well enough to come with?” Heizou asked, voice edged with concern as his gaze tracked between the still healing bruises peeking out from Kazuha’s hairline, a bandage covering a nasty scrape where his head collided with the roof tiles as he fell. 

“I assure you I am more than fit for a walk through the city.” There was a playful lilt to his voice even though the subject erred on the grim side.

Heizou was less than convinced. “Yinxing said she wanted you to rest another day minimum.”

“Did she not ask the same of you?” 

Heizou inwardly winced at the counterpoint. Neither of them were at 100% yet. While the majority of the crew had gotten away with only superficial injuries, Heizou and Kazuha had gone up against the storm in the most literal sense possible. Pushed so far past their limits, it was a miracle either of them were still standing the next day.

“You needn’t worry.” The playful smile as Kazuha spoke was surely intended to be comforting, but within the context of the man’s injuries, it only served as a reminder of what Heizou feared were their final moments. When Beisht’s wrath fell short, the sea itself took them, and they both very nearly succumbed.

No, not nearly. The flicker of realization mixed with anxiety, making Heizou shudder. Kazuha had succumbed. He almost…

Heizou’s memory of the latter half of the ordeal was blurred by the flood of emotions and adrenaline, leaving a patchwork of scenes to be replayed when his mind least desired, mixed with frames of vivid clarity.

One such frame was the sight of Kazuha sprawled next to him. First during their exchange in the crows nest, when Heizou had laid bare his fears in the quiet of the night for only Kazuha to see. A moment of tenderness that still had him reeling.

The second was the brief moment of calm between the attacks, Kazuha in the throes of panic and Heizou coaxing the fear from trembling hands. Silent words exchanged, conversations composed of haggard breaths and soothing touch.

The third was the worst; Kazuha laid out on the deck, soaked in seawater, ashen and still. The deeply-seeded terror that gripped Heizou's heart as he tried desperately to pull him back from the gate of the dead with his bare hands. The heart-wrenching realization that the most he’d ever touched his dearest friend was when he was frantically trying to force life back into his lifeless body; the first touch of lips that could have been his last delivered with the gift of his own breath and pleas that it’d be enough.

He was so cold…

“Heizou?”

The call of his name snapped him from his thoughts, “Hm? Yes?”

A warm hand wrapped around Heizou’s own and gave it a brief squeeze. “I’m all right, I promise.” Kazuha, ever astute, spoke only loud enough for Heizou to hear over the chatter of the crowd. Private reassurance, just what he needed. “Just focus on what’s ahead of us, hm?”

Us.

I wish he knew how much that word makes my heart race.

“Although…” Kazuha stepped ahead of him on the boardwalk, leaning close as though to better examine Heizou's condition. “You seem somewhat dazed…are you certain you do not need more rest yourself?”

Is it that obvious? Heizou schooled his expression into something closer to chipper, even if the energy wasn't quite there. “I'm fine.” A shake of the head, a grin to deflect. “Aside from some soreness, but it’s nothing a proper bath won’t fix.”

Kazuha hummed, a hand pressed to his chin as they walked, “That does sound quite nice. Perhaps we should settle our lodgings first?”

The grin returned to Heizou’s lips. As always, talking with Kazuha put him at ease. “That just happens to be the first order of business on the list. Got any recommendations?”

“Actually, I do.” He came to a stop at the edge of the crowd and turned to Heizou, as though expecting something. The only hint; another squeeze of his hand.

It took Heizou a moment to realize where they stood; the base of the grand staircase that led to the city. He hadn’t realized how far they’d walked, or was it that close all along? Looking up at it from the bottom, it still seemed just as steep, still serving as the metaphorical gateway to the trials ahead.

Heizou turned to Kazuha, who merely smiled. Even without saying it, he knew he understood.

“Shall we?”

Heizou smiled, squeezed Kazuha’s hand in return, and took the first step.

The grand stairs led from the central dock to what appeared to be the main square of the city. A highly commercialized area, from what Heizou could gather, with restaurants and shops lining the streets. Even as the sun edged closer to the horizon, the city felt lively and bright. Open-air eateries advertising their specialties to draw in the harbor laborers as they made their way home from a hard day's work. A verbose storyteller regaling a tale of what sounded suspiciously like a certain captain's conquest against an ancient sea monster, relevant once more after recent events. The stalls across the way lifted their shutters to reveal esoteric collectibles from their country and beyond, their owners placing their signage on the street, starting their day at dusk.

It was such a stark contrast to life in Inazuma. Liyue’s history and culture was woven into their commerce, willingly exchanged and intertwined with that of other nations, other walks of life, to create something vibrant and new. Broadening horizons, the people reaching skyward like the mountains surrounding them.

It was the kind of life he'd always craved; progress and tradition hand in hand with hopes for the future. A nation that embraced the uncertainty of change over the stability of Eternity.

The circumstances surrounding his arrival had been harrowing, but he'd arrived regardless, and he intended to take advantage of it.

“The bookseller I mentioned is on the upper level here.” Kazuha pointed to one of the many brightly colored buildings, a stall just barely visible past the arched walkway. “And if memory serves, there is a tailor that is quite quick with a needle on the third floor there.” He gestured to each shop as they passed, their locations progressively higher as he went. As it turned out, the people of the country known for its undulating terrain and heavens-high peaks seemed keen on paying homage to the work of their former archon by imitating his design in their architecture.

Which was to say, there were a lot of stairs in Liyue Harbor. A lot.

“I feel like my days visiting Nana at the shrine have somehow prepared me for this…” Heizou stretched his arms high, wincing slightly as the action alone tugged on his stiff muscles. Normally he’d consider the prospect of climbing two or three stories of steps to get to his destination to be trivial, what with his affinity for heights. But he was, despite his earlier protests to the contrary, still very much in the midst of recovery, and his body’s reminders of this grew more insistent the longer he walked.

At his side, Kazuha chuckled, having had little issue with their trek, which made sense when one considered that he’d spent a number of months traversing the actual peaks of Liyue. “Ah, yes. I suppose the structures here are more vertically-inclined than those of our homeland.” Kazuha seemed to purposefully slow his pace as though to lessen the strain Heizou was pushing through, his smile edged with worry.

Normally Heizou would protest that as well if only to reassure Kazuha that he was okay, that they could hurry along to their destination. But something else tempted him to take things slow.

As they walked, Heizou found himself transfixed by Kazuha as he animatedly explained the various locations around them, eyes alight with adoration for the city, its people, and everything in between. It was a thing of beauty that brought out an odd feeling in his chest, one that made him want to slow down, take his time, allow Kazuha ample space to share his wonder undisturbed. Then to have those eyes on him, the warmth of his hand as it slid into his, and a smile to make his heart flutter as he asked, “What do you think?”

That I could watch you talk all day. “I’m impressed.” he said instead, “With how well you give a tour, you’d assume you’ve lived here all your life.” 

"You think so?" Something told Heizou that it wasn't the first time Kazuha had heard such a remark. "I suppose of the nations, I've spent the most time here. But I've yet to truly settle anywhere."

No surprise there. That was just how Kazuha was; he left everything behind to live a nomadic life, yet he gained so much more by doing so. Kazuha didn't just visit a place; he lived there, among the people—common folk, merchants, fellow wanderers—all walks of life. And once he felt the time was right, he’d continue onward, led by the wind and its whims. He sojourned throughout Teyvat, countless encounters and experiences that Heizou had only ever been able to read about in books. Kazuha spoke of his time away so fondly it often made Heizou wonder if there was anything left in Inazuma worth seeing. If there was any reason Kazuha would want to come back at all.

And then, he didn't.

There’d been no reason to.

The reality slowly began to sink in. Barely two nights prior, Kazuha had professed his true motive: seeing him safely to Liyue. He achieved that, he was even making sure Heizou got settled and was on his way to living a normal life. But then what? He’d seen everything that could be seen in Liyue Harbor, and there was so much more out there.

Heizou took in the sight of the city around him, trailing upwards until his eyes met the sky and the peaks in the far distance. Peaks Kazuha had climbed, or would climb once his wanderlust sent him on yet another journey. Destination unknown, return date undecided.

How long will he stay this time?

“But…” Kazuha’s voice snapped Heizou from his thoughts, and it was then that Heizou realized the man wasn’t looking at the world around him, but…Heizou. Just Heizou. “There weren’t any maple leaves here before.”

“Maples leaves?” Heizou’s brow furrowed. “What do you—”

Before he could form a response, the two were interrupted by a shout of their names, only barely audible over the crowd. “Kaz! Zou!”

Both men turned in the direction of the voice, spotting a familiar man weaving through the crowd, carefully dodging obstacles as he approached.

“Okamoto?” Heizou’s expression must have belied his shock, because he felt Kazuha shift closer to him, as though Okamoto was a threat somehow. He can’t be still sore about the scene at dinner, right? Kazuha is the “forgive but remember” type, but didn’t we make amends?

Perhaps more shocking was the presence of a tagalong, a young girl upon his shoulders, clinging to Okamoto’s head as though riding a noble steed into battle. “And Mingzhu?”

Once he reached them, Okamoto slowed to a walk, panting as though he'd just ran a marathon, with Mingzhu kicking her feet impatiently. Quite the odd pair indeed. “Finally found ya.” He wheezed, halfway doubled over. He must’ve ran the entire way from the ship, stairs and all. “Little Mingming was mighty upset you left without saying goodbye.”

The attention turned to Mingzhu as she shyly ducked her head, seemingly bashful now that she’d found the person she’d been after. “Hey now,” Okamoto huffed, “You came all this way.” He patted her little knee before carefully plucking her from his shoulders, setting her lightly on her feet. “Go on.”

The way she shuffled forward with her head bowed made it clear she was bothered by something, and Heizou had a feeling it wasn’t just that he’d left the ship already. Just to make it easier on her, Heizou crouched down to her level, beckoning her over. “Hey, Mingming. Sorry, I thought you were staying til morning.”

The little girl fidgeted with the hem of her dress, looking seconds away from tears. “I am, but…Are you gonna live in the city?”

Heizou nodded, “I am, at least for now. I have to find a job and a place to stay first.”

Mingzhu’s expression fell, “Auntie is taking me and Haoyu to stay with my mama’s sister in Qiaoying Village.” She sniffled, tears threatening to fall with each word, “She said we won’t go to the harbor again for a while.”

Ah, so that’s what it is. With how young she was, it was only natural she’d get attached to a trusted adult, especially after rescuing her and her brother during the storm. Enough so that the prospect of not seeing him again would be genuinely upsetting. That was the last thing he wanted to see from her.

“Hey, it’s okay…” Heizou donned his best, most cheerful looking smile for her sake as he patted her head, “It’s not like either of us are going away forever. It just means we get to visit each other in new places.”

“But…” Mingzhu’s little lip wibbled, “It’s so far away…”

“Heizou and I like to go to far away places.” Suddenly, Kazuha was crouched before her as well, effortlessly inserting himself into the conversation at Heizou’s side. As easy as always, for someone like him. "It means there's more for us to see and learn."

Us. Heizou shook off the word before it could invade his thoughts any further. “You’re right, Kazuha! We’ll definitely have to visit. And when we do, you’ll give us a tour, right? I bet you’ll find all the cool hiding spots.”

Mingzhu’s eyes lit up as though she’d been offered a gift, “Promise?”

Heizou nodded, “I promise. So be good for your aunties, okay?”

“Okay!” Mingzhu bounced on her heels before throwing her little arms around Heizou’s neck in the tightest hug she could muster. It filled him with a different sort of warmth; solace in the knowledge that he’d made a difference in a child’s life and given her a chance she may not have had before. A feeling of hope that he didn’t realize he missed.

Once Mingzhu let go, Heizou rose to his feet, his attention moving to Okamoto who’d been watching with a fond smile on his face. To think, soon he’ll be able to do that with his own child. “What about you? Were you able to find a ride back to Inazuma?”

“Silk merchant leaving tomorrow afternoon.” Okamoto stated with a firm nod, clearly pleased with his luck. “Captain even put in a good word for me.”

“That’s perfect! Fuyuko will be thrilled, I’m sure.” It seemed that even his case was wrapping up nicely. A happy ending that he’d truly had a hand in making.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s gonna let me have it when she sees me.” Okamoto chuckled with a sheepish bow of his head, “Not that it ain’t deserved. But I promised her last time it’d be…well, the last time, and I mean it. Gonna clean myself up proper.”

Just hearing that made the weight on Heizou’s shoulders somehow lighter. Okamoto wasn’t just determined to go straight, but seemed genuinely grateful for Heizou’s efforts, however difficult it made life for him. The odds may have been stacked against him, but Okamoto was a determined (read: stubborn) man. Heizou was certain he’d make good on his word.

“I'm glad to hear it.”

Callused fingertips brushed along his wrist as Kazuha joined his side once again, and Heizou instinctively grasped them in his own. In a way, that too felt like an expression of gratitude, as did Kazuha’s smile as he bumped against his shoulder.

If only he knew how much I adore that smile.

“What about you two?” Okamoto gestured between the two younger men with a wry grin on his face, “Where are ya headed next?”

The question immediately pulled Heizou out of his daydream and back to reality. Right, plans. Now he was in Liyue. Where Heizou would land, and when Kazuha would take off again…Of course he’d want to know that. Heizou himself wanted to know.

Just focus on what’s ahead of me. Where I’m going, what I’ll be doing. Just me.

The smile was firmly plastered in place, just like always. “Not sure yet. But I have some avenues I want to look into around here, see if I can fill a niche.” He didn’t want to outright say he was considering enlisting with the Millelith in front of a man he’d had arrested multiple times, but Heizou had a feeling Okamoto would have assumed as much anyway. In uncertain times, go with your strengths. Wasn’t that always the way?

"What’s that?" Okamoto brows raised into his wrinkled forehead, "And here I thought you'd be takin' him along with you." The question wasn't aimed at Heizou, but at Kazuha, who's eyes widened at the address. "Don't tell me you got him all the way here just to drop him off!"

"What? No, I..." In a rare show of distress, Kazuha faltered once put on the spot. Heizou had been reticent about asking so directly himself, but now that Okamoto had opened the line of questioning, he wanted to know, too. What Kazuha planned for himself, and if there was truly an "us" involved in any of it.

And what "us" meant to Kazuha, specifically.

There were many clues he needed to consider for the case, but none so important as the look of apprehension and guilt on Kazuha's face as he finally answered, "I haven’t quite decided yet. Plans have changed, you see." Said with a mild smile that Heizou didn't need to be a detective to know was forced.

He hadn't decided. No, he just didn't have an answer. Not one he’s ready for me to hear.

I don’t know if I want to hear it either.

Heizou switched gears from fact finding to damage control for Kazuha's sake as much as his own. Minimize hurt by maintaining the status quo. And that status quo was the two of them solo.

"I mean," Heizou interjected with a similarly phony smile, "I did kinda crash the party. You saw the posters. It's not like Kazuha planned on me coming to Liyue with him." That statement alone left a sour taste in his mouth and a rock in his gut. Heizou knew Kazuha was watching him as he tried to talk his way out of a tight spot like he always did, but Heizou didn't dare look back. He didn't want to know what kind of expression Kazuha had on his face as he played all of it off as nothing but inconvenient happenstance. “I’m sure by the time I’m settled he’ll have his next destination in mind!” It’ll be easier on him if he thinks I won’t hold it against him. It’s better that way.

And yet, he hadn't let go of Kazuha's hand.

It took a second for Okamoto to pick up the conversation again, "Well, however ya end up, I wanted to thank you before we parted ways.” Okamoto bowed low, a little awkwardly, but sincerely nonetheless. “For settin’ me straight, even when I made a fool out of myself. But most of all for helping Fuyuko.”

Heizou was about to say that it was part of the job, but they both knew it went further than that, and it wasn’t Heizou’s job any longer. “The best way you can thank me is by being a good husband and father, and I know you plan to.”

“Yeah, I will, but that ain’t quite the thanks I had in mind.” Okamoto grinned, absently picking at a freshly scabbed addition to his tattoo sleeve. He seemed…Restless? No, nervous. Maybe anxious? Heizou couldn’t quite pin it down, but it was mildly concerning. Perhaps he’s the type that struggles with giving and receiving praise? Who knows…

“Just keep an eye out for me on the boardwalk along Chihu Rock.” Okamoto continued, peering around as though looking for someone in the crowd. “I’ll treat ya to lunch…after I sort out my papers with the Millelith. I’m actually not allowed beyond the docks right now.”

That would explain the nerves. “Don’t worry, I can’t arrest anyone here.” Or anyone anywhere, his subconscious reminded bitterly. Heizou elected to ignore that bit of negativity. No need to sour the mood after it’d just been sweetened again.

“Fair enough. Okay, Mingming. We gotta let them get going.” The little girl was plucked from the ground and placed safely on Okamoto’s shoulders once more. Between her giggles and Okamoto’s smile, it was clear he had a soft spot for kids, a fine quality for a man about to be a father. Now that he had reason to sort his life out, it’d be easier for him to stay on the straight and narrow. Heizou was certain he’d stick to his promise this time.

As the pair snuck their way back along the bridges to the docks, pausing just long enough to allow Mingzhu to wave, Heizou couldn’t help but smile himself. Despite the turmoil left in his wake, he felt he could pat himself on the back a little for at least their success stories.

Now to see if I can write my own.

“Man alive…” Heizou sighed, “I’m beat. Think we can pick up the rest of the tour tomorrow?” He turned his attention back to Kazuha, who had been watching him once again. Only then, the wonder and warmth had lessened, and in its place was deep contemplation.

Still, he smiled at Heizou’s request. This time, it would take a detective to figure out how genuine it was. Ever the enigma.

“Certainly. It’s just this way.”

The inn Kazuha had in mind was on the top-most floor of a building that, for all intents and purposes, was likely a store room prior to being renovated for extra coin. Nested between two restaurants on the less lively side of the city, with buildings more modest in design and significantly less red in color. Heizou wouldn’t complain. Even such a small room seemed large when compared to the former-closet that was Kazuha’s bunk. It had a more traditional setup; a wooden chest of drawers between two platform beds with a small stack of blankets set aside for each. Ample room to spread one's limbs in the night and not a hammock in sight.

Yet, as relieved as he was to have more space, Heizou couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that there were two beds. He tried not to think too hard on why that was.

What he wasn’t disappointed by was the attached private washroom, complete with a full tub and running water.

With an exaggerated sigh, Heizou eased into a basin filled to the top with steaming hot water, relishing in the luxury of a bath for what felt like the first time in ages. After several days at sea with only one pair of clothes and minimal facilities to wash—not to mention the stress he had been under the entire time—he determined a long soak was absolutely necessary.

It was by no means fancy—just a deep wooden basin filled with hot water and a dash of floral scented oil left near the sink—but it may as well have been the height of luxury when compared to sponge bathing while on the Alcor. And once he had scrubbed himself free of over a week's worth of sweat and grime, he could finally enjoy it.

"I needed this..." Heizou hummed happily, sinking up to his chin. Finally, he could finally ease the tension in his aching limbs, lulled by the ambient noise of city life.

"Careful," A soft voice cautioned, "You'll be in trouble if you fall asleep."

Through the silk screen separating the tub from the rest of the bathroom, Heizou could see the shadow of Kazuha outlined by a newly lit oil lamp. "I gave your garments over to the innkeeper to wash. They won't be dry until tomorrow, unfortunately."

"I figured. Night time and sea air, all that."

Kazuha hummed in agreement. "I'll be going down the street to fetch us dinner. Do you need anything?"

Heizou stretched his legs in the basin—which was surprisingly generous in size, far too big for the small bathroom in which it was wedged—and sighed contentedly, "Just this soak. But take my coin pouch with you." He said with a bit of play in his voice despite the fatigue, "Don't think I didn't see you slip the innkeeper that mora. I told you, you didn't need to pay for everything."

That earned him an earnest chuckle in return, "You caught me. But in my defense, if we are both to stay in this room, it's only logical to pool our funds."

"You got me there." Sighed Heizou, yet the smile remained on his face. "Thank you, regardless. But seriously, let me pay for dinner."

"Yes, yes." Another chuckle, "Then in return, please enjoy your bath."

As though there was another outcome. "Thank you."

"Of course," The silhouette disappeared as Kazuha exited the room, "I'll be back shortly."

Heizou waited until he heard the door click closed before sinking deeper into the tub with a heavy sigh. However bright his outlook was, so far almost all of it rode on Kazuha's knowledge and connections. Even though he'd never officially lived in Liyue, nomadic as he was, it seemed there were several that recognized him even in passing and greeted him warmly. No doubt if Kazuha had stopped for any of them, he'd be able to speak with them as if they were old friends. It was such a stark contrast to how people would normally react to Heizou even in his own hometown.

But that was just how Kazuha was. A man who desired little but to see the world, whose warmth and appreciation effortlessly drew people to him. Natural charisma underutilized, because all he desired was within his grasp; new experiences and the time to enjoy them. Family fallen from grace, left with nothing but the clothes on his back, yet content.

Knowing what Kazuha had gone through, feeling envious of him to any degree felt awful. 

Yet Heizou felt it nevertheless.

Or am I worried now that I know he’ll leave?

There were so many factors he had to consider. Back to his supposed outline, with only his own skills and merits to his person, having even less than Kazuha when he came to Liyue. Many decisions to be made: Who to approach for work, what kind, if he should stick with the Adventurer’s Guild’s commissions or seek something more stable with the Millelith.
If he should even pursue something close to his previous work, or use the fresh start as a means to take a different path with his career.
If he’d even be satisfied with anything less.
If he even had an option to the contrary to begin with.
All these things were up in the air, uncertainties that made him want to fidget and pace, run out into the street to resolve them as quickly as possible so he could quiet even just one part of his persistent anxiety.

Yet the only thing that could settle his mind was…Kazuha; how each of the people that approached them were greeted with passing politeness before his attention returned to Heizou. The way he kept close to him as they pushed through the crowd, how his fingers felt as they wrapped around his wrist to lead him, grasped his hand to reassure him. How he just seemed to know what Heizou needed before he himself had figured it out. The glow of his smile as he shared something new with him, the way his upturned lips formed around his name, how they seemed to draw him in, drifting closer to—

Heizou quickly shook his head as though to rattle the thought out of his mind’s eye before it could delve further into fantasy. “Shit…” He scrubbed at his reddening face, “Why do I…”

He knew why. He’d tried to ignore why the whole afternoon. But left entirely alone with his thoughts after an entire evening admiring him? Heizou realized he had a problem.

An unfortunate—or rather, awkward —aftereffect of that harrowing night at sea had taken form in what Heizou had dubbed a post-traumatic fixation with Kazuha's lips. The memory of the exchange had nestled itself in the forefront of his brain; the perfect target for deep overthought. Heizou had since convinced himself that, while it could be considered his first kiss at the surface level, it did not qualify on account of its necessity for saving the man's life, who couldn't have consented anyway.

Besides, Heizou had been under duress. He had no choice! It was life or death!

But of all things I need to be concerned about, why can’t I stop thinking about his lips?!

Heizou groaned and sunk deeper into the water. This is getting ridiculous. I can’t just keep… fantasizing about my friend like this. If he ever found out…

Yet another thing he needed to figure out; why he held those feelings for Kazuha, what they were, what he wanted them to be, and what to do about them. All of which, presently, could be answered with, “I don’t know. I’m just as lost as you are.” Which was incredibly unhelpful of his brain.

The logical route was to talk to someone about it. For once, Heizou was reluctant to follow the logical route. Figuring out why that was would be another thought process he didn’t want to tackle.

And, more urgently… His mind flickered to the look on Kazuha’s face after Okamoto left with Mingzhu, how it seemed to lose the spark he’d held just moments before. Why did he look so downtrodden? So…hurt?

Heizou exhaled slowly and sank into the perfumed water up to his chin. I need to focus on my future. I’ll ask about jobs first. Beidou could probably recommend something if I have trouble. A good word from her would help, right? Right. That way I don’t have to depend on Kazuha. He won’t be tied down, which is best for both of us.

Heizou’s eyes drooped dangerously, his thoughts slowing with each blink, until they fixated on one unfortunate fact. 

It’s best I get on my feet as quickly as possible. Knowing Kazuha, he’ll feel obligated to take care of me. If I anchor him down, he’ll start to resent me. If that happens…

A slow creaking pulled him from the edge of slumber. The door to the main room opened, the telltale clack of sandal to wood signaling the entry of another. Kazuha must have returned with their evening meal, which meant he would need to finish his bath if he wanted to eat while it was still warm.

With a soft whine of protest Heizou grasped the edge of the basin to pull himself upright. Once the chill of the night air hit his wet skin he wished he could take his meal in the bath too.

Heizou reached for the pile of white towels to dry himself, but paused when he caught a glimpse of how dark it’d gotten outside. The sun that had only just begun to set when they arrived was now completely gone, leaving nothing but pitch black.

Just how long did I sit in there? An unimportant question; after all he’d gone through over the last week, a long soak was more than merited. Kazuha would understand, probably even enjoy one himself. He was on the road often enough to appreciate a good bath when he got to one.

He sat at the edge of the tub, toweling his hair dry as he tried to clear his head of anything relating to his conflicting feelings for his best friend. The last thing he wanted was to be caught staring without a rational, unsuspicious explanation as to why.

The door to their room opened, the shuffling of socked feet along wood followed by a quiet voice signaling Kazuha’s return, “Heizou?”

Time’s up. “Be out in a moment!” Heizou called back and swung his legs out of the basin before draping one of the towels over his lap, “Just need to—”

…wait…

The door, hadn’t Kazuha returned already?

Heizou froze in place. No, Kazuha just—

The hair on the back of Heizou’s neck stood on end just as he heard a hiss against his ear,

“Hello again, little deer.”

He only had time to gasp before someone—some thing— encircled his neck and yanked, forcing him back over the edge of the tub and into the water. Panic instantly filled every inch of him, displacing what little air he had in him with raw fear. He flailed, clawing at whatever had a hold on him, trying to wrench it away in vain attempt to break the surface that was mere inches away. All the while, he could hear a hauntingly familiar laugh echoing in his ears, clear as day as though coming from his own mouth.

“You thought it was over, huh?” The voice growled and Heizou swore he could feel the man’s breath against his ear. “You don’t get to escape us.”

This can’t be happening. This can’t. It’s not possible! Kazuha…Where’s Kazuha—!

The water churned from his struggles, changing from semi-transparent with the bitter taste of flowers to something dark, putrid, filling his senses with a piercing fear that pervaded all logic. 

“Doesn’t matter how far you run. We see you.”

The grip around his neck tightened, pinning him in place as he quickly lost strength. All he could do was scratch uselessly at his assailant, try to free himself enough to get a breath, or at least make enough of a ruckus to get Kazuha’s attention. Kazuha would stop this. Kazuha would drive off his attacker. Kazuha could save—

—「And what makes you think he didn’t let me in?」—

What little air he had left escaped in a dismayed wail. Time’s up, his traitorous mind sang, his inner voice full of venom that blended so seamlessly with that man’s that Heizou wondered just how much of his thoughts had been poisoned by it without him realizing. Time’s up and there’s no escape.

—「We see you.」—

—「We see you.」—

—「We see you.」—

His strength waned, viscous black encroached on his senses. The will to struggle left him faster with each passing second while that laugh echoed in his ears, mocking him. He’d come so far, but in the end—

He heard a muffled cry of his name. The grip tightened, malicious laughter fading into a string of curses. The grip loosened and all at once he was dragged upwards out of the murky depths. A merciful hand in the darkness.

Heizou broke the surface with a gasp, coughing and sputtering as he was hauled over the rim of the basin and onto the cold stone tile floor. He clawed at whatever he could reach, fearing that he’d be pushed under again, or that whatever had him intended to finish the job.

“Heizou…Heizou, wake up!”

His eyes snapped open and suddenly, there was light. The bathroom was aglow with the final remnants of sunset, the sounds of the city abuzz with life just on the other side of the window. And with him was Kazuha, his soaked juban held tightly in Heizou’s trembling fist.

“I’ve got you.” Urged Kazuha as he carefully propped Heizou up in his arms, “You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

Panting, eyes wide and wildly checking every corner of the room for his assailant—for that man— and finding nothing and no one, except Kazuha.

He was here. He was here. He knows I’m here. He tried to—

“Heizou.” A familiar warmth on his cheek, a hand with no intent to harm, but to ground him. Vermilion eyes filled with worry fixed on him. It was Kazuha. Just Kazuha.

Then where—

“K-Kazu—” Heizou managed between haggard gasps, still clinging to Kazuha’s juban with trembling, desperate fingers. “Kazuha, was anyone… anyone else here?”

“Anyone else?” Kazuha’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on Heizou’s shoulders. “Did you see someone else?”

Heizou’s eyes darted around the room again. “I don’t…I don’t know, I…” Dizzy and disoriented as he was, he knew something was off. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. Not even just almost drowning in the tub of all places like some invalid, but that voice. He knew that voice. He knew it. That voice had been seared into his mind since that night as it taunted him. But there was no way—it was impossible , completely and physically—unless he’d somehow snuck aboard another, faster vessel in the time it’d taken the Alcor—

—「What if he was there the whole time?」—

No, no! Shut up! There’s no way that Beidou would let that happen! Or Kazuha—

Kazuha’s eyes hardened, “Stay here,” He ordered in a voice so low and filled with burgeoning rage that Heizou was almost taken aback, “I will check—”

“No!!” Heizou scrambled to grab onto Kazuha before he could stand. The last thing he wanted was to be left alone for even a minute. One minute was all that man needed to take him out.

No, focus, rationalize.You’re safe. Kazuha is right here. He won’t let anything happen to you.

He tried to swallow back the fear, force it down, override it with logic. “J-just now…” Heizou managed, “What was…How did you find me? What happened?”

The look on Kazuha’s face faded from barely checked anger to bewilderment, then concern, “I returned from fetching our dinner and called for you. You didn’t respond, so I…” He paused, averting his gaze as he pulled a towel from the pile and draped it over Heizou’s lap. A bit of modesty that Heizou would have appreciated more if he could focus on anything but terror for longer than ten seconds. “Forgive me for invading your privacy, but I feared you had fallen asleep in the bath after all, and…”

Fallen asleep. Had he been asleep?

“Did…Was I…” Heizou tried to put the words together but found himself failing despite his efforts.

Kazuha nodded, “You were beneath the water when I saw you. I am sorry for handling you so roughly. Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“N-no, I’m…” He shook his head, forcing the last dregs of what he determined had to, most logically, have been a nightmare from his mind. That’s the only way this makes sense. “I’m sorry. I must be more tired than I thought. I’m okay, though, thanks to you.”

The admission melted the tension from Kazuha’s shoulders, a soft sigh of relief escaping his lips. “You scared me.” A quiet admission of his own made with an exasperated yet relieved smile. Kazuha gently brushed wet strands of hair from his face before sliding his hand to the back of Heizou’s neck, holding him steady as he pressed his forehead to Heizou’s own. Despite himself, Heizou’s eyes slipped closed as if expecting more.

“You’re warm…” He murmured as he pulled another towel down from the pile to wrap around Heizou’s shoulders.

Heizou shivered, “Well, yes. Hot bath.”

Kazuha gave him a look, “The water has long since gone cold, Heizou.” The towel was tugged more snuggly around him, “Moreover, your ashen complexion is concerning.”

One could argue that having a nightmare while nearly drowning would make anyone pale, but given how dizzy he still felt, Heizou decided against debating. Logic had seemed to fail him anyhow. Instead he pulled away from Kazuha and attempted to stand so he could cover himself properly.

He made it as far as his knees before the room swayed, confirming Kazuha’s suspicions, much to Heizou’s chagrin. Damn it. “Okay…Maybe I do need more rest…” He pressed the heel of his hand against one eye in hopes of stilling the spinning. “...Don’t tell Yinxing.”

Kazuha huffed while rising to his feet, “Only if you agree to rest now.”

“I don’t think I could avoid it even if I wanted— ack!” His grousing quickly cut to a yelp as he was unceremoniously lifted into Kazuha’s arms and carried towards the bed. “Give a man some warning before you sweep him off his feet!”

“Is that what you want me to do?” Kazuha goaded with a mirthful grin on his face, “To sweep you off your feet?”

If he was supposedly “ashen” before, he certainly wasn’t any longer with how his face immediately heated up from the teasing. A disgruntled snap of “Kazuha!” was the only comeback he could muster. Carried like a blushing bride to bed while nude. I feel like I’m skipping like five steps here! 

Laughing at his own antics, Kazuha set Heizou gently onto the platform bed and grabbed the nearest blanket to cocoon him. “Apologies. You’ll have to settle for dinner, first.”

The promise of food was the only thing keeping Heizou from completely burying himself beneath the blankets indefinitely, wet hair be damned. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he felt quite chilled. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but still irritating. “This doesn’t make sense. How is it, after all that, I’m the one that gets a fever?”

“You forget that I have spent several years among nature and all her surprises.” Kazuha set about opening the two bamboo boxes, revealing a small array of dim sum and a serving of some variety of fried shrimp, the latter of which was handed to Heizou. “Such times serve to strengthen one’s immune system, would they not?” 

There was no fighting that logic either, Heizou realized with a sigh. At least Kazuha knew what sort of foods Heizou liked best, and how they were a surefire way to lighten his mood. “I guess spending a fair amount of my day pacing my office doesn’t help in that regard.” He wiggled an arm out of his blanket cocoon just enough to grab a piece of shrimp and pop it into his mouth. For however fragrant it was, the taste was surprisingly mild. Whole and minced shrimp, wrapped in thinly sliced potatoes and deep fried whole. And here I was worried my tempura-eating days were over.

“I’m sure going days with minimal sleep and a poor diet would not help matters.” Kazuha teased while taking a bite out of his own meal.

Could he hit the nail on the head any harder? “Hey now,” Heizou gave him a pointed look, “I didn’t ask to be called out.”

“My apologies.” chuckled Kazuha, “But, seeing as you’re starting anew, perhaps now is a good time to break such habits.”

Heizou deflated with a groan. Like always, it was impossible to be mad at Kazuha, let alone argue with him. The man knew him too well and teasing aside, he made a good point. If he truly was going to use this opportunity to turn his life around, then he could start with resolving some of the issues within his grasp, namely sleeping and eating better. Or actually remembering to do both.

“It's all right just to focus on you.”
“If you really want to thank me, do it by taking care of yourself.”
“Shikanoin, shouldn’t you consider taking a break?”

“Perhaps I should…” He smiled sadly, gaze distant, allowing himself a moment of grief before pulling back to the present. “That is, after I’m done with the delicious fried food you just handed me.” Heizou finished off another piece and flashed a chipper grin to his companion. “Thanks for bringing me dinner, Kazuha. And…” He buried himself back into the blankets up to his nose to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks, “For…everything else.”

Staying at his side, saving him again and again in so many ways…Even if it was only for a short while, Heizou hoped he could continue relishing in the feeling of being cared for. Just a little longer, until I’m myself again. Then I won’t burden you anymore.

Kazuha watched him, a flicker of concern in his eyes before he too smiled and sidled closer to Heizou with his meal in hand. “My pleasure. Here, try this…” He gently tugged the blanket away from Heizou’s face and held a dumpling to his lips.

Bashful or not, Heizou couldn’t say no to Kazuha either.

Chapter Text

—“Kagome, kagome…”—

The woman hummed the tune as she hung the laundry on the line to dry in the summer breeze. It was a song he knew well; a children's rhyme, sung along with a game that Heizou had played many times when he was young.

"You aren't a fan of this one, are you?" She asked as she straightened the white linens fluttering in the breeze.

Heizou looked up from the box of books he'd been rummaging through—the contents of his room before he left home—and cast his gaze out to the field just beyond the garden. A group of children walked slowly around their friend, hands linked as they chanted, giggling gleefully as the "oni" in the middle made their guesses.

Just seeing them so carefree brought a somber smile to Heizou's face.

His gaze returned to the box of childhood memories before him and continued to sort. "It isn't that I don't like it. The other kids got tired of playing it with me."

"Is that so?" Her voice was almost playful, youthful, more lively than Heizou remembered. A nice change.

"I almost always guessed right. Some kids said I was cheating. Same with temari." Heizou pulled another worn novel from the crate and set it aside with the others, most so well-loved that the spines were splitting, and a few damaged by other means. Like the rest of his belongings, they'd been dumped haphazardly into the crate, probably by his father in one of his signature rages. The fact that any of it was kept at all was most likely his mother's doing. Aside from Nana, she was the only one who would've cared.

He missed her. It’d been so long since he’d been home, Heizou had wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Heizou glanced over his shoulder, flashing a smile. "It's fine. They were just kids. I still had fun." There were other games, other hobbies, other songs to sing and other kids to find. It was better than being home with his father and brother and their demands of him, or the disappointment when he failed to meet them.

What would they think of me now?

The children continued to sing, their collective voices steadily louder as more joined them; nearly a dozen now. Boys, girls, brothers, sisters, young and carefree.

"Did you know," She began, "That some say this song is about a convict about to be executed?"

Heizou paused in his sorting, “That's one of the more morbid theories, isn't it?” He chuckled, “Usually, you'd tell them it's about an expecting mother, if you wanted a more profound meaning.”

She hummed, "Perhaps, but isn't a man on the run, unsure of his executioner, more exciting?"

The children sang louder. Heizou's brow furrowed, "Exciting? That's strange coming from you, Mo--"

A gust of wind took hold of the linens along with his words, stealing breath with thought. Heizou grasped at the visual as his sight blurred, seeing inky black hair where there should have been burgundy.

—“Who is behind you now?”—

Ice filled his veins as a shrill buzzing clouded his senses and—

"Heizou?"

Heizou awoke suddenly to a familiar voice and the gentle touch of callused fingers sweeping across his forehead. The afterimages of his dream quickly faded to their rented room, now awash with the warm glow of a midday sun. And next to him, seated on the edge of the bed, was Kazuha, gazing down at him with equal warmth and a touch of concern.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Kazuha rested the back of his hand on Heizou’s forehead, then his cheek, “How are you feeling?”

Even if it was only to check his temperature, the simple touch had the tension in his limbs ebbing away, chasing the remnants of his dream along with it. As usual, Kazuha’s presence alone was enough to ground him. “I’m fine,” despite his want to indulge in the other man’s touch longer, Heizou sat up, ignoring the ringing in his ears that followed. “What time is it?”

“Nearly noon.”

Already a late start. Heizou groaned, “You gotta stop letting me sleep so long.”

“You clearly needed the sleep.” countered Kazuha.

“…You’re probably right.” Heizou admitted with a soft sigh. “I should get started with my day.” He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as his fingers caught on the knots; the consequence of having slept without brushing or drying his hair. So I dozed off right after dinner, he concluded, Which means…

Heizou glanced down at the blankets he'd cocooned himself in the night before, now pooled in his lap, which was good considering that was the only manner of modesty he wore. Discreetly, he tightened the blankets around himself, if only to spare Kazuha an unsolicited show.

"Your clothes." As if following his internal train of thought, Kazuha set the freshly laundered pile on the bed next to Heizou. "I'm afraid the laundress did not start on your clothing until this morning. Your underclothes have dried, but your pants are still being washed."

"Oh." That could be a problem. If they were just going to stay in their room for the day, Heizou could get away with walking around in his undergarments (though that still qualified as “an unsolicited show”, he reminded himself). But he had a long list of errands that still needed doing, including seeing someone about new clothes. That, and Heizou didn’t think he could spend another day cooped up inside now that they were finally on dry land. “I don’t suppose you have another pair I could borrow in the meantime, would you?”

Kazuha looked down at himself, a hand tugging at the collar of his haori, before seemingly thinking better of it. “Just a moment.” He crossed the room to the adjacent bed where his satchel lay, half-empty with its contents set out neatly across the bed. From it, he pulled a folded swath of checkered cloth—black, gray, and red—bound with a brown obi. It took Heizou a moment to realize what it was.

“A yukata?” That isn’t his usual motif.

Kazuha nodded as he presented the bundle to Heizou, “It may be a bit chilly still, but it is far better than going without.”

Heizou accepted the proffered garment with some hesitance, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in this.” Heizou turned the garment over curiously. It was a fine cotton, soft with a weave that even an untrained eye could tell was of high quality. But what stood out the most was the inclusion of maple leaves embroidered onto the sleeves…and not so neatly at that. Compared to the rest of the garment, Heizou would venture the embroidery was done by an apprentice at best, likely after the garment had been completely constructed. Their addition proved it was intended for a Kaedehara to at least that extent, but it also raised some questions.

“This looks handmade…” He peered up at Kazuha, brows drawn together in concern and mild apprehension, “You’re not giving me a family heirloom to wear, are you?”

Kazuha chuckled and shook his head, “No, the only remnant of my clan is what I wear now. This was a gift sent by Miss Ayaka, though it’s seldom worn.”

“From Miss Ayaka?” Echoed Heizou. “As in, Kamisato Ayaka?” That raised a different set of questions, ones Heizou wasn’t quite prepared to tackle.

The ties between the Kamisato clan and the last remaining member of the ill-fated Kaedehara clan boiled down to clan politics and what Heizou always assumed was just pleasantries and hearsay. Entertainment-starved housewives looking for a scandal to liven up their days. After all, who would ever assume that Lady Kamisato Ayaka and a wandering samurai were anything more than polite acquaintances? He would have never assumed they were close enough to exchange gifts, let alone an expensive one that, Heizou theorized, had been in part made by Ayaka herself. Surely one of her standing wouldn’t go so far as to hand-stitch appliques onto a gift for just anyone, right?

Heizou tried to think back to a time when Kazuha had mentioned her in any capacity and drew a blank. Had he truly never spoken of her, or had any mention simply flown over Heizou's head? Was he truly so distracted that he would miss something as important as a tie with one of Inazuma's major clans?

What else have I missed?

“It is not as you think.” As though reading his mind—again—Kazuha interrupted him before his theories could run away with him, “I had expressed that I lacked the necessary attire for attending anything above a street festival, and Miss Ayaka took it upon herself to remedy that.” he said with a smile and a mirthful glint in his eyes, as though he’d already chased down Heizou’s train of thought and was set on derailing it. “It has only been worn a handful of times and otherwise left in Beidou’s hands for safekeeping. Considering your lack of wardrobe, I thought it useful to take along.”

“And your thoughts were spot on.” Heizou settled the garment in his lap with an almost sheepish grin, “Thanks, Kazuha. I’ll return it once my clothes are dry.” Although, those are his too…

“I was hoping you’d keep it.”

That had Heizou stopping short once again, “I couldn’t—”

“Please,” Kazuha cut him off before he could properly protest. “It would be a waste not to be worn, and I have no need of it.”

One could counter that the yukata was given to him because he had need of it, but just as Heizou was stubborn, Kazuha was too. Ultimately, he relented with a smile. “Thanks, Kazuha.”

The smile was returned twofold, and the little flip Heizou’s stomach did made him wonder if the heat in his cheeks was something other than fever.

“My pleasure.” 

Heizou was well acquainted with the staff of the Inazuma outpost of the Adventurer's Guild, so much so that it was surprising he'd never registered for it himself. Their assignments would sometimes cross with official business from the Tenryou Commission, but otherwise Heizou never had a reason to actually enlist. It wasn’t like he had spare time to pick up commissions, and the majority of the tasks that came through just plain didn’t interest him. If he wanted to spend his days running errands and hunting for lost items, he’d have stayed working for Sango.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and in the absence of any sort of career lineup, Heizou would take what he could get.

He could see the benefits of it, at least. In a city like Liyue, where your reputation was just as important as your wallet, picking up miscellaneous tasks seemed like a surefire way to start networking. With any luck, he'd make a good impression and be able to establish some form of long-term employment.

It was a start, and one he was grateful for. He was doubly grateful for how Katheryne didn't bat an eye when he gave his name at the counter. Come to find that she was familiar enough with his accomplishments as a detective around Inazuma to not require a field exam, but not so informed that she knew he was a wanted man freshly divested of his rank. Heizou never gave much thought as to how Katheryne could work both Inazuma and Liyue’s guild outposts simultaneously, but much like the doings of the Kamisato Clan, he was probably better off not knowing.

A quick questionnaire and a brief canned introduction later, and Heizou was handed a stamped page confirming his membership. A formality at most, but it felt nice to have something official in his hands. It made it feel more real, like he was finally setting off in the right direction.

It was afterward, as the two were heading to their next destination, that Heizou realized a potential snag in his plan. "Is there a place where one could acquire any magical mediums?"

Kazuha angled a curious look his way, "I believe there is. Did you want to pick up something?"

"Sort of…" Heizou’s stride slowed, his expression contemplative while his brow furrowed with apprehension, "I just realized, I need a catalyst."

Kazuha matched his pace, so as not to get too far ahead, "A catalyst?"

Heizou nodded, "It’s not always necessary. I know how to fight, and I can call on the wind with just my vision, but it’s taxing without a catalyst." He recalled the night of the fire, where he struggled to keep up with Kazuha the whole length of their escape. It was the same during their fight with Beisht, in which he was still feeling the effects of pushing himself past his limits.

Of course, this raised further confusion in Kazuha: "I would have thought you already had one."

"I do." Heizou was quick to defend, but just as swiftly corrected, "Or rather, I did. But if I wasn't doing fieldwork, I'd sometimes just leave it at the station."

Kazuha quirked a brow, "That's surprising, coming from you. You aren’t usually so short-sighted."

The jab was unintended, but Heizou couldn’t help but frown, "It wasn't like I expected to be accosted in the three blocks between the station and my apartment. Old man Shimura wasn't exactly the fisticuffs type, either." Still, Kazuha had a point. Heizou just didn't want to admit the neglect was in part because he'd hardly left the station in the days leading up to the incident. Or slept, really. More bad habits to break.

The fact remained that not having a means to focus his abilities put him more at risk of injury, especially if he ran into trouble while out in the wild. Heizou sighed deeply and crossed his arms tightly over his chest, “I want to avoid fighting, but I would rather not be in a situation where I can’t again…” The addendum to that statement hung silently between them, but the sentiment rang loud and clear: ‘Like that night.’

Judging from the expression on his face, Kazuha understood, and the concern was shared. “We could ask at the blacksmith later, or…” Kazuha’s steps slowed, his gaze cast across to the opposite side of the square, "Actually, I have an idea." he gestured towards what Heizou quickly realized was a display of books and scrolls.

"A bookshop?" Heizou asked quizzically, "Would they have items like that?" It would make sense if they did, in theory. But Heizou couldn't recall ever seeing anything resembling a magicked tome or grimoire at any of the bookshops he'd visited in Inazuma. In fact, most folks he knew that preferred catalysts used some kind of artifact, Heizou himself included. I wonder if it survived the fire. It was metal and stone, but…

Kazuha proceeded towards the footbridge, "Not on the shelves, I wouldn’t think, but the husband of the owner is a collector of antique books and artifacts. I imagine he may know where we can obtain a suitable catalyst, if not have one on hand."

Heizou lit up at the idea and quickly joined Kazuha's side, “Your knowledge of this city continues to impress me.”

The compliment earned a bashful chuckle from Kazuha, “It’s as I said before; I once had to start from nothing, just as you are now. I’m happy to impart that knowledge to help you get settled.”

Heizou tried to ignore the pang of anxiety from the phrase ‘get settled’, instead focusing on the shop ahead of him and what he needed to find.

The bookshop was more like an open-air kiosk, with stacks upon stacks of books and scrolls lining the oak shelving. Although their inventory seemed skewed towards older texts, Heizou could see a growing collection of modern bound books on display. Publications from Fontaine, mostly, but there were a few titles he recognized from Inazuma that had made their way into the shipments.

As much as he wanted to take his time browsing, the urgency of his request and the near-glare boring into the back of his head as he gawked reminded him of why he’d come there in the first place.

Thankfully, Kazuha stepped in quickly, "Excuse me," he approached the glowering woman at the counter with his usual placid smile, "Madam Jifang?"

The woman turned her attention to Kazuha, and her expression softened to something closer to cordial, but the tension remained, “Oh, Kazuha, it’s been a while.” she gestured towards one of the table displays in the corner, “If you’re looking for a new poetry book, the latest compilation is over there.”

One had to wonder how many times Kazuha had patroned the place to not only be addressed by his first name, but to know his preferred genre. Heizou attributed that to the man’s reputation alongside the Crux Fleet, and just him being a pleasant, generally memorable person. At least, that was Heizou’s theory.

“Thank you, but—” To Heizou’s surprise, Kazuha took his hand and led him towards the counter, “—we were hoping to speak to Langqing. Is he available?”

The woman gave Heizou a onceover, as if appraising his worth versus her time. Judging by her expression and crossed arms, she'd determined Heizou as middling at best, but Kazuha’s presence boosted her interest. "Langqing is meeting with a client today. Are you looking to sell something, or are you a collector?"

Heizou plastered on his best of friendly smiles in hopes of softening the standoffish woman, "Neither, madam. We were hoping he may be able to assist in finding an item that could be used as a catalyst."

The woman looked him over again, only this time, her gaze fixed on the vision fastened to Heizou's obi. Suddenly, she was far more interested, "I see. Unfortunately, he probably won’t be back today, but if you write what you're looking for, I can pass the request along."

As much as he wanted to insist that picking a catalyst was more involved than that, his intuition told him that trying to explain that to her would only end in getting told off, and potentially losing their lead. Instead, he wrote what information he recalled Yae Miko asking when she stepped in to help him find a proper medium. It was more than he could effectively dictate, but it was a start. Again, beggars and choosers.

The parchment was passed back to Jifang, who skimmed over the contents, folded it neatly and tucked it into her pocket. “Come by tomorrow afternoon. Langqing should be here, and you can go over the specifics. If he doesn’t have something in the warehouse, I’m sure he knows someone who does.”

A bit of hope sparked in Heizou’s chest and the tension he’d only barely noticed lessened in his shoulders. He quickly bowed, “Thank you very much, Madam Jifang.”

She shook her head with a huff, but after a quick glance between him and Kazuha, her hostility towards him seemed to abate. “If you’re looking for a normal book, we have plenty in stock. If you find one you like, bring it over here.”

Before Heizou could ask or decline for time’s sake, Kazuha took his hand again, this time to tug him to his side. He leaned closer, speaking softly to not disturb any other patrons. “The seamstress is across the way. I will see if she is available, if you’d like to continue browsing.” He offered with a wink and a grin, as though he’d known exactly what Heizou would want, but wouldn’t ask. Or perhaps he’d noticed the hopeful look on Heizou’s face as he looked over the shelves.

Heizou couldn’t help but beam, “I think I will, then.”

“I’ll be back in a few moments.” Kazuha’s hand slid to the small of Heizou’s back, lingering there a second longer than necessary, before he headed across the bridge once again.

Left to his own devices, Heizou wasted little time in taking in what was available on the shelves. It was the first chance he’d had to do anything close to leisurely shopping since he’d arrived in the city. He knew he couldn’t spend a lot on frivolous purchases until he had more money under his belt, but in the spirit of breaking bad habits, he also needed something to do that wasn’t constantly working.

That, and he was fairly certain that Kazuha would encourage him to indulge in a book or two just to get his mind off everything.

Interestingly, there was only one other person present; a young man who was busily perusing a collection of light novels, with two already tucked in his arms. Both Heizou immediately recognized.

“I didn’t know they released a third volume of Robben versus Chesterton.” Heizou joined him at the shelf, pulling volume one from the lineup for himself. “Looks like I’m more behind than I thought.”

The young man paused in his browsing and regarded Heizou with eyes wide in surprise, either at the man speaking or that he was being spoken to, “Have you read the previous entries?”

“The first one, yes. It was more exciting than I expected.” It was the last novel he’d had time to read before diving into the serial kidnapping case. Even if he’d figured out the plot twist by chapter five, the story itself was interesting for its intrigue and the unusual relationship between the detective and phantom thief that almost bordered on intimate. Or at least, that’s what the ladies at the shop insisted. Heizou just mused they’d end up partners somehow, if not close friends.

“The second volume is just as exciting, if not more.” The boy continued, turning to face Heizou properly. He was younger than Heizou, likely no more than nineteen summers, lithe with delicate features that, at first, could easily be mistaken for a woman. Just a glance at his attire told Heizou of his status, with its fine embroidered brocade, gold adornments, all fully tailored to accentuate his thin build.

Clearly the young man was some level of Liyuen nobility. But unlike the nobility he was used to appeasing, this boy didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives. At least towards Heizou. Though two things stuck out: First was the hydro vision clasped to his hip, which made Heizou wonder in what circumstances he came to have it.

The second was, “Are you buying copies for a friend?” Heizou nodded to the books the boy had already pulled from the shelf, volumes 2 along with 3, and apparently the last copies.

The boy chuckled sheepishly and looked off to the side, “Well, no, these are for me. The set I had was lent to a friend before he left on business, and unfortunately the books didn’t survive the trip.”

It was hard not to be amused by the young man’s plight with how nervous he was about it. Heizou got the impression it wasn’t the whole story, but he let it slide. He’s probably just embarrassed. “I can relate.”

“Is that why you’re buying it again?” This time, the young man gestured to the book in Heizou’s hand: volume 1.

Good eye. “Pretty much. I kind of have to start over now that I’m here.” He didn’t want to go into too many specifics. Despite how some novels went, dumping your tragic backstory onto a stranger’s lap wasn’t an ideal way to make friends, nevermind one’s supposed criminal background. 

The boy’s eyes were sympathetic as he took in Heizou’s appearance, “Have you just emigrated from Inazuma?”

Surprised he picked up on that. “You could tell?”

“Ah, more conjecture than anything.” The boy waved his free hand in defense, “Between your attire and your words, and that I do not recognize you at all.”

For a second Heizou wondered what sort of industry this young man was in that he would know a foreigner by face. Regardless, it was nice to be viewed with some grain of positivity, especially since Kazuha wasn’t at his hip. Still no ulterior motives. “Just yesterday. I’m still getting my bearings.”

“I imagine it’s a bit of a change…” The boy shuffled the books to his opposite arm and extended a hand, “Pardon my manners, I’m Xingqiu. And you are?”

No title, no grand introduction. Just Xingqiu. The casualness put Heizou’s mind at ease, but he had to pause a second to consider what name to give. Should I use my full name here? It might be risky if this guy has ever been overseas… “Call me Heizou.” He concluded with a nod and what he hoped was a convincingly confident grin. “Pleased to meet a fellow detective novel fan.”

“Likewise!” The boy backed away from the shelf and towards the register, “I would love to hear your thoughts on the series. Do you have time to—” He stopped short and stiffened, his head flicking left and right, before he peered over the railing to the crowd below. Heizou was about to ask what had spooked him, when he heard the faint yet somehow still obviously exasperated shout of “Young master!”

Xingqiu groaned, “Drat, already…?” He spun around and pressed both the books against Heizou’s chest. It was only for a split second, but Heizou caught the glimmer of mischief in the boy’s eyes, something he was intimately familiar with. “I have to run, but let’s have tea next time!” And with that, he bolted across the bridge onto the adjacent skywalk and out of sight.

He looked down at the books that had been forcibly bestowed upon him: volumes 1-3, the only copies of each the shop had. The kindness brought a small smile to his face. Interesting fellow.

As Heizou laid the books on the counter, a bespectacled man made it to the top of the steps, clearly frazzled. He looked at Jifang first, who shook her head and busied herself with the stack of books. Then, his attention turned to Heizou. “Excuse me, sir, the young man who was just here…” he breathlessly pleaded.

Ah, a rebellious young master, is it? “Blue hair and shorts?”

“Yes! That’s him. Did you happen to see where he went?”

Without missing a beat, Heizou pointed over the man’s shoulder, “He was heading towards the terrace.”

The man heaved a heavy sigh, but thanked Heizou regardless before running down the stairs again.

On the other side of the counter, Jifang gave him a knowing grin as she wrapped his purchases, as though he’d passed some kind of test in her eyes.

And so the chase continues.

“Arms out,” the seamstress commanded, barely waiting long enough for Heizou to move before wrapping the tape around his chest. When Kazuha mentioned the seamstress was quick with a needle, he assumed he meant just garment construction, not that she’d have him stripped down to his underthings and up on a step stool within minutes of entering her shop. Her tape encircled various body parts as she mumbled; mental math and notes to self, accented by flicks of her gaze to points of his physique. All the while, Kazuha stood nearby, browsing other wares while observing the scene with apparent interest.

“Style?” Her questions were curt, but purposeful. Heizou could appreciate that, even if it was a little off-putting.

Heizou considered some of the outfits he’d seen around the city, but hadn’t given much thought to which would suit his needs, or look good on him, or that matter. “Something practical,” he suggested, unsure where else to start, “And won’t restrict movement.”

“Adventurer?” she continued, not once making eye contact.

“Yes.” Technically.

“Colors? Motif?” asked the seamstress as the tape settled around his waist for the third time.

That Heizou hadn’t considered either, “What are my options?”

“I’ll show you what I have stocked.” She leaned to the side and gave Kazuha a pointed look, “You need to feed your husband more. He’s too thin.”

“Pardon?!” Both men yelped at once, equal parts surprised and flustered. Heizou glanced at Kazuha, who stood in front of a display of hair decks, just as bewildered as to how to answer as Heizou was. Fortunately for both of them, Heizou composed himself quickly, “We’re friends.”

The seamstress stared at Heizou and Kazuha in turn before nodding, “Ah, I understand.” She stood upright and patted Heizou on the back, “We’ll pick out fabric and go from there. I have an idea.”

Heizou was grateful she did because he wasn’t certain where to begin. He’d spent so much time in uniform over the last few years that he could hardly recall the last time he’d gotten new clothes. He wasn’t even sure how much of his wardrobe was plain clothes and what had the Tenryou emblem on it. Not that it mattered now, with him working from literally nothing. At least the woman was perceptive, clearly used to working with customers who came in with a blank slate.

A short while—and some blessedly abbreviated bouts of decision paralysis on Heizou’s part—later, the seamstress had a bolt of brassy orange fabric and was shooing them towards the door. “Come back tomorrow afternoon for a fitting.” Again, short and to the point. Clearly her speed was not just with a needle. He barely had time to thank her before they were out on the veranda again, left baffled by the whirlwind.

“Well,” Heizou began as he descended the steps to the deck below, “That was the end of my list. Should we grab dinner before heading back?”

Kazuha hummed as he followed close behind, “I was thinking we could stop into the restaurant next to the inn. Their servings are rather generous.”

Heizou snickered, “Taking the too skinny comment to heart?”

“I couldn’t say she was mistaken, per se. I did notice that you had lost weight when I came to find you.” Just to accentuate his words, Kazuha playfully poked at his waist, making Heizou squeak and shuffle away.

“H-hey now, a lot happened in the six months you were gone.” The details of which he had yet to share with Kazuha. He’d taken on more cases, buried himself in work. Forgot meals and slept at the office more often than before. Looking back, he could see how low he’d gotten after Kazuha left, honestly believing his only friend had abandoned him. Sara had implied he was depressed more than once, and though he believed her, especially in hindsight, it was difficult to admit it to himself at the time. Oftentimes, it was easier to stay in the hole than to climb out of it, and with no one waiting for him at the top, Heizou kept digging.

It was something he should talk about with someone he trusted, yet the prospect of doing so was just too much to tackle as things were. Maybe later, after I have myself put together enough for Kazuha not to worry about me. “Really, Kazuha, I’m fine. I spent a lot of time inside in the weeks leading up to seeing you, remember? It’s probably that.” He playfully nudged Kazuha back with his elbow, “Besides, with all the different kinds of food here, I’ll probably put on a bit of weight just trying everything.”

He could tell Kazuha wasn’t convinced, but neither were willing to push the subject. Even though Kazuha smiled, Heizou could see the wrinkle in his brow, how he watched Heizou closely as they walked, appraising him much like the seamstress had. It was easy to tell there was something on his mind. Heizou just wasn’t sure what.

Before Heizou could even figure out how to ask, or if he even should, Kazuha suddenly stopped behind him, “Actually, I want to double-check something with the seamstress. Do you mind?”

Heizou blinked, surprised by the sudden topic jump. “Oh, sure. Do you need—”

By the time he turned around, Kazuha was already halfway up the stairs, leaving Heizou standing confused on the veranda. “O…kay, I’ll just wait here.” he muttered, his lips tugged halfway into a pout. With a soft huff he crossed the deck to the railing, watching the interchange of night and day workers filtering through the square.

Heizou always considered himself an attentive person. Taking in minute details of places and people, knowing what to look for and how to draw info you need out of others, it was all an integral part of the investigation process. The difference between a lead and a dead end could be as little as a displaced item or a sideways glance. That was just detective work 101, the bare basics that even rookies needed to master if they had any hope in the field.

Yet for all the skills he thought he had, the investigation as to what was going on with Kazuha was completely stumping him. The man could be spacey, sure, but he usually wasn’t evasive, not to him. It wouldn’t be fair to assume he was hiding something either, given their current situation. A man is entitled to his secrets, even those with a bond as close as theirs.

The fact that he’d just referred to their relationship as a close bond sent his thoughts off course.

—"You need to feed your husband more."—

The seamstress’s quip rang in his ears, and a touch of heat filled his cheeks. He couldn't say he was upset about her assumption, but it had raised some questions. Namely, how she made the jump between two grown men shopping together and marriage.

Was it how closely they walked? How they would occasionally clasp hands when weaving through the crowds so they wouldn’t lose each other? Was it how they'd roomed together, ate together, ran errands together? All of that just made sense if you were traveling with someone. What had he missed? What was it this seamstress saw that he hadn't?

But it wasn’t just her that assumed, was it? Beidou made mention of how close they were on the regular. She’d even gone out of her way to tell Heizou about Kazuha’s tendency to avoid physical contact, while he never shied away from asking it of Heizou. And she was right. In fact, he seemed to actively seek it, leaving Heizou with a craving he couldn't satisfy by himself.

That was going to become especially burdensome when Kazuha ultimately moved on to his next destination. Because he would, eventually, leave Liyue and return to wandering. Kazuha rarely stayed for more than a few weeks in the same area. It just wasn't in him to settle, not after so many years of freedom.

—"Don't tell me you got him all the way here just to drop him off!"—

Okamoto's words raised even more questions, but not as much as Kazuha's reaction to Heizou’s answers. He thought that Kazuha would be relieved that he wasn't expected to stay. Taking care of him as he adjusted to the massive life change after the crisis couldn't have been enjoyable. Surely, he’d be happy to get back to his travels?

An awful theory crept into his thoughts. Perhaps the answer didn’t lie in how Kazuha hesitated when asked about his departure or in Heizou’s response, but in the way he’d been around Heizou even before they arrived in Liyue. It was in the closeness he kept, the watchful eye on him and their surroundings, ready to jump into action at a second's notice. The way he would point out places he felt would be of interest to Heizou, sharing his knowledge so the world wouldn't seem too foreign. How he went out of his way to see to his every need—a haori to keep off the chill, a fried dish to lift his spirits, a hand to hold when the weight of what was ahead of him felt like too much to carry alone.

Monitor, comfort, stabilize, help him adapt. When examined objectively, it all became clear: He’s worried what will happen when he leaves, Heizou concluded with a nod, An understandable concern, all things considered. It isn’t like I’ve been especially stable since the incident. He sighed as he rested his elbows against the railing, But I'll be just fine once I have my bearings. I’ve always managed on my own, I ran away from home as a teen and still made a name for myself. I’ll figure things out as I go, like always. He doesn’t have to worry about me.

He told himself that—he’d been telling himself that—because the alternative would chain Kazuha down.

I couldn’t do that to him.

I couldn’t ask him to stay, even if I wanted—

Then it hit him; he’d already asked . Just a few nights before, when the two shared that emotional moment in the crow’s nest. When Heizou laid his insecurities out with the help of half a bottle of shitty wine and quiet company. Heizou had pleaded tearfully for Kazuha to stay.

After everything he put him through, it was no wonder Kazuha had been fretting so much. Sure, it wasn’t in that exact context, but given their conversation and the utter shipwreck that Heizou’s life had become and the things he almost did as a result? Of course he’d feel obligated to watch over him after that. Kazuha had seen the worst of him and wanted to prevent a repeat performance.

The guilt he must feel. The fear…

Heizou buried his face in his hands and groaned, “Man alive, I messed up.” Thanks to his careless words, Heizou had set Kazuha up for misery, threatening to cut him off from the thing he loved most. And the worst part is…He probably wouldn’t even say anything about it.

The wind called to him, but if Heizou asked him to stay—if Kazuha thought he needed to stay—then he’d stay for Heizou’s sake, even if it deprived him of his freedom. A wild bird willingly caged, its wings clipped, singing to the open sky behind bars for the sake of someone else’s happiness. 

I can’t ask that of him. I can’t let him do that to himself. Not for someone like me.

“But…” Heizou rested his head on his arms with a heavy sigh, “Why do I still want to?”

He had theories for that as well, but none were going to help the sudden downturn in his mood. Only Kazuha could, and that was part of the problem.

His gaze cast to the river of people flowing through the docks, each carried along by the current of time and their day-to-day lives, while Heizou contemplated his own.

How do I fix this?

Then out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something amiss; or rather, some one. A flash of a red bandana, a torn-sleeve dogi, a sight that surprised Heizou and set him on edge in equal measure: a man whose ship left that morning, clearly without him on it.

“Okamoto?” Why is he still here… Heizou leaned out over the rail, almost enough to alarm the patrons sitting at the tea tables across the way. He could see him more clearly now; leaning against the exterior of the warehouse, only barely hidden from view by the awning. Panting as he scanned his surroundings, his arm clutched to his side, bright gashes dripping red onto the white stone.

The knife in his hand.

Oh, that’s definitely not good.

Heizou only took a second to calculate possible routes before settling on simply vaulting over the railing of the veranda, twisting to grab the deck to swing nimbly to the stone terrace below. Not the most covert of entries, but he didn’t have the luxury of time, not when Okamoto was standing out in the open covered in blood. Triage, then action, and Heizou had a feeling that action needed to be far, far from any guard.

He dropped a few feet away from where the dazed man had slumped against the wall, “Okamoto,” Heizou hissed, head swiveling around to double-check for any onlookers before continuing. “Hey, are you okay? What happened?”

The man’s head snapped up, eyes locking with Heizou’s in a wide-eyed stare, and he scrambled back against the wall as far as he physically could, “No…!” the man whimpered, “Not you…Not you!!”

“Whoa, hey! I’m here to help…” Heizou edged closer, slow with hands raised in submission, just as he would whenever approaching any armed but clearly terrified suspect. Even if he knew this man, Heizou knew better than to just run up on someone with a knife. “Come on, let’s get you to someplace safe. We can hide out there while we—”

Okamoto swung before he could even respond, the blade only narrowly missing its mark. A threat, a desperate attempt to keep the distance, “No!” Okamoto yelped as his arm shook, “I can’t! I can’t do it!”

His desperate pleas, the way he recoiled at the sight of him, as though he’d seen a monster, set off the alarm bells in Heizou’s head. Okamoto staggered to his feet, not sparing even a passing glance at the smear of blood left behind on the wall, and scuttled around the corner and out of sight.

“Shit…!” Heizou cursed as he took off after him. What is he doing?!  

Okamoto ran along the terrace to the narrow alleyway that connected to a row of warehouses, knife still clutched in his blood-covered hand. He paid no mind to guards and onlookers alike as he shouldered his way through the laborers and ran haphazardly into the main thoroughfare.

Heizou made chase after him, mind reeling as he wove through the herd of workers and patrons while keeping an eye on the injured man. Whatever it was he’d been involved in, he had to know that Heizou was on his side. Yet, he still fled as though he once again fell into a felonious misadventure, with Heizou himself out to cuff him. Parole violated, arrest imminent, another jail sentence ahead should he be captured.

If the guards catch him, he is going to get arrested! The panicked thought had Heizou pushing onward, doing his best to dodge pedestrians along the way. If I don’t help him…

“Okamoto! Wait!” Heizou tried again, this time managing to gain the man’s attention just long enough to catch a glimpse of his face; eyes wild with fear, as though he was trying to outrun death itself. Was he always this fast?

“S-stay away from me, you monster!” Okamoto barked back, voice breathless and cracking from the exertion.

What? Heizou glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see a soldier or someone equally authoritative to be right on his heels, threatening to take Okamoto in. But there was no one else in the chase. Just Okamoto and himself.

He’s…is he seriously trying to escape me?!

If it were a few weeks ago, Heizou wouldn’t be surprised, but why now, after they’d mended their past grievances?

Okamoto suddenly shoved his way into the crowd crossing the bridge to Chihu Rock. Heizou stopped just shy of barreling in himself; the amount of people coming and going bottle-necked into the passage, surely hampering anyone trying to speed through. Thinking fast, Heizou hopped onto the railing, running along it to dodge the throng while seeking Okamoto in the crowd. But even with the higher vantage point, he’d already lost sight of the man.

Heizou broke away from the crowd and descended the stairs to a narrow alleyway nearby. He braced a hand to the wall, taking a moment to catch his breath and his bearings. Whether it be the recent injury or lingering illness, he was struggling with both. I could go to the rooftops for a better view—ah, but in this area that would draw far too much attention. If Okamoto is truly fleeing from someone…and me…I can’t get the guards involved.

Heizou groaned as a pulse of a headache made itself known behind his eyes. I should have waited for Kazuha, he realized with a sigh. As much as he would rather not admit that he needed outside help to catch a target, having someone more familiar with the city would make cornering the guy much easier. Circling back isn’t an option, Heizou told himself, I need to catch up with him, but I can’t waste time canvassing the area for potential escape routes.

With his hand pressed to his chin, Heizou paced along the narrow alleyway and tried to clear his head enough to put together the information he’d gained during the pursuit. His ride back to Inazuma has already left…He doesn’t have papers to stay in the city, so the Millelith could be out for him just for that, but I haven’t seen a single soldier pursuing him. Aside from the injury, he didn’t seem to be in direct danger. And why run from me as well? He shook his head with a frustrated groan, the why isn’t relevant right now. Instead of just chasing him, I should figure out where he’s likely to end up, and intercept him there. Then I can help him with whatever trouble he’s in.

Heizou jumped onto the terrace railing overlooking the boardwalk that led from the shops in Chihu Rock to the docks. He wouldn’t be allowed into the city, but he could roam the harbor itself. Add in that he believes he’s being pursued… Heizou scanned the horizon, his eyes falling upon the very place he could seek sanctuary in a time of need: the Alcor, currently perched on the dry-dock undergoing repairs.

It was a simple solution, but Okamoto was a simple man. Now, the best way to get there while avoiding the Millelith—

A flicker of a shadow crossed his senses. A blot like a blink in the corner of his eye, a passing sigh whispered against his ear, a feather-light touch on his shoulder that sent a spike of ice down his spine. It flowed over him, a chill like a thick fog that seemed to stick to his skin and slide away like condensate, leaving a deep dread in the hollows of his chest.

Heizou whipped his head around, very nearly toppling off the railing in his attempt to spot the assailant. But the only thing behind him was an empty alley, and the crowd just beyond. With a shaky breath, he hopped off the railing, shuffling away from the edge and steadying himself with his back to the wall. 

“What…what was…?” Frantic eyes scanned his surroundings in search of the source— I know this feeling, why do I know this feeling?— but all he found was stone and open sky. He wrapped his arms around himself to suppress the shiver, taking slow, even breaths to shake off the cold and stop his skin from crawling.

Something isn’t right…with this situation or my head. Or both. Heizou shook off the rest of the ice from his bones and pinched the bridge of his nose to will the buzzing away from his head. His already frayed mind swayed with uneasiness, fueling the alarm bells that sounded louder with each second without answers. He needed to find Okamoto, figure out what had him running, before…before…

—「Before it’s too late?」—

A horrified shriek in the near distance tore him from his thoughts and back to the present. Heizou sprang away from the wall and back onto the rail, jumping the gap between it and a nearby tree with ease, then dropped to the boardwalk below.

Then it hit him; the heavy and disturbingly familiar stench of iron and viscera carried along the sea breeze. It halted Heizou in his tracks, every limb stiffening as though anticipating a blow that he knew would sooner come mentally than physically. There was no mistaking that scent.

No, not again.

The alarm bells escalated into sirens.

I can’t be here.

With every nerve alight with apprehension, Heizou slowly ascended the ramp. Step after step, controlling each breath, fists clenched in preparation for another fight against people he should trust. All the while, his instincts screamed at him;

Run.

Red dripped from the planks of the boardwalk onto the stone below. Fresh. It was fresh. He wished fresh wasn’t what he recognized most.

Run.

A young man stumbled backwards into view, nearly slipping on what Heizou could only imagine were fragmented bits of flesh. Heizou galloped the rest of the way, reaching him just in time to catch him by the shoulders before he toppled completely. Immediately, the boy gripped onto his forearms to hold himself up, his weight light even as he trembled in terror. Amber eyes were wide with horror as he stared up at Heizou. 

I need to run.

“Xingqiu?” Heizou stared down at the boy, his fair skin and blue locks were splattered with blood.

“I…I didn’t…” the boy’s voice cracked, near tears as he shook his head, “He…he just…!”

Heizou's gaze drifted from the boy’s bloodied shoes across the boardwalk, following the trail of blood and human debris to the cliffside hidden beneath the upper deck.

There, splayed against the stone like a discarded toy, was a man—a body.

—「 Aren’t you always running?」 —

Staring lifelessly towards the sky, ripped from wrist to neck so viciously his head was hanging on by threadbare sinews and splintered bone, was Okamoto.

Chapter Text

This can’t be happening…

It was a scene out of a nightmare, one he'd already lived before. What was once a man was now a remnant of his former self, a body smashed against the rocks like a decrepit ship in rough seas, and Heizou's vision swam at the mere sight of the shattered vessel. He felt himself sway, lost to the waves himself, the roar drowning out all sound around him, leaving him adrift in the memories of a coming storm and the taint of copper in the crisp night air.

A house torn through like a hurricane, the storm’s lone victim lying on the floor. Cut down, left to bleed out, the floor dyed a wretched red. He could see his eyes, how they stared wide up at nothing, his mouth dropped open in what could have been a scream of terror or cry of dismay, or both. Echoes of regrets and pleas for help unheard accompanied by static as the sickening warmth soaked into his hakama, caked under his nails as he held the soiled Tenryou badge. It permeated his senses, his very skin crawling with the memory of blood and smoke and rain and hands dragging him into the undertow and drowning drowning drowning he’s drowning —

The sound of retching pulled Heizou from the depths of his flashback-turned-reality. The boy in his arms lurched forward, hand clapped over his mouth as he all but launched himself towards the railing. Instinctively, Heizou grabbed him by the waist, half to steady him, half to assure the clearly traumatic sight didn’t send him over the literal edge. But instead of jumping, he doubled over the rail, losing whatever he had for lunch to the docks below.

"Easy, easy!" Heizou urged, holding Xingqiu’s quaking shoulders as he continued to heave. Heizou couldn't blame him; if he wasn't so focused on keeping Xingqiu together, he'd probably be doing the same.

Unfortunately, neither of them had the luxury of time to sort out their respective panics. "Xingqiu," Heizou patted the boy's back in a vain attempt to either ease the nausea or help the process along, "We need to go."

“What? Go?” Xingqiu’s eyes flicked between Heizou and what was left of the poor man splayed against the rocks. “We…We need to report this. That poor man, he just…to himself…"

Despite every ounce of sense he possessed, Heizou slowly turned his attention back to the corpse—to Okamoto. Whether it be his connection to the victim or whatever remained of his sense of duty, Heizou couldn't bring himself to detach the corpse from its identity. He could only stare as his voice of reason begged him to look away. To run as far as he could from the scene and try to forget the man who only just hours before spoke of his hope for the future.

No. No, there's no way. What little rationale he could muster kicked into gear and forced his fears to take a back seat. Heizou grabbed a hold of Xingqiu by the arms and had to physically resist the urge to rattle him, "Xingqiu, what do you mean to himself?” He demanded, ignoring the warnings of his right mind in favor of focusing on work, like always.

"I…" Xingqiu shook his head slowly, the fear in his eyes mixing with the shock of what he’d clearly just witnessed. He trembled just the same as Heizou did, fingers digging into the fabric of Heizou's borrowed yukata, overwhelmed and struggling to process it all. All of a sudden, he pushed against Heizou’s chest, struggling to get himself out of his grip, "No, you aren’t going to believe me. I swear, I’m…I just need to find…I need to talk to…" His head whipped around, amber eyes frantically searching their surroundings as his breaths came faster and shallower.

Terrified. He was absolutely terrified, and no soul could hold that against him. But it wasn't just from the fresh corpse against the stone or the blood staining his clothes and face. No, the terror fueling his struggling now was that no one would believe the tale he'd be forced to tell. The sole witness to the man's demise, the first one on the scene, soaked in circumstantial evidence. Even if he were to tell the truth, he may not come out of it unscathed.

It was a nightmare Heizou knew far too well, and one he wouldn't wish on even his enemies, and certainly not on a young man who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Heizou wasn’t about to let history repeat itself. The question was how he could avoid it without implicating himself.

I saw Okamoto not even twenty minutes ago. So I can corroborate his alibi, and I have people to corroborate mine. I just need his side.

"Xingqiu, listen to me." Heizou’s grip shifted to Xingqiu’s hand, leading him further away from the scene, forcing him to face away from Okamoto's body and focus on him instead, "I need to know where you were and what you saw. Any other people, any strange happenings, coincidences, anything. Tell me, and I'll help."

Xingqiu stared up at him with watery eyes and a slow shake of his head, "I swear, I had nothing to do with this. What I saw…It wasn't…Please, let me go so I can—"

Before Heizou could press further, an arm grappled around his shoulders, forcing his back to another's chest. Against his better judgment, he kept hold of Xingqiu’s hand to prevent him from fleeing, even as the white-clad arm encircled his neck. Strong enough to restrain, but not enough to suffocate, though Heizou had a feeling it would not take much for that to change. Heizou grasped the man’s forearm, trying to loosen his grip, craning his neck to get a look at the assailant.

Pale with snow-white hair, and bright, almost inhumanly blue eyes focused on him. A quick glance at the claymore strapped to his back explained the strength, but it was the look in his eyes that had Heizou nervous; pupils slit like a beast ready to strike. 

To say the man was menacing was an understatement. It was as though all the rage of a dozen men emanated from him, fueled by an as yet unknown vendetta. Heizou shivered despite himself, phantom sensations of taunts hissed against his ear, a threat of what could come next. Too much like that night.

Dangerous. He’s dangerous. I need to—

The only thing keeping Heizou from flipping the assailant over his shoulder so he could escape was Xingqiu being in the immediate line of fire. Instead, he spoke quietly, a tremor edging into his voice despite his efforts to remain calm and in control of himself and the situation at hand. "Unhand me, or I will defend myself."

"Unhand him first." The man countered, his grip tightening, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder. Despite the need to have his questions answered, Heizou let Xingqiu’s hand drop. But instead of being let free, Heizou was guided backwards, arm still firmly around his neck.

Heizou’s heart rate spiked as a lance of fear shot through him. “Let me go.” He winced at both the sound of his own voice and the arm tightening around his neck. De-escalation was quickly rolling off the table, and Heizou feared he may actually have to launch the man to free himself.

But before it came to that, the assailant was suddenly yanked backwards, nearly dragging Heizou along with him. Now free, Heizou staggered away, instinctively dropping into a defensive stance in front of Xingqiu, should the new player in the situation mean harm for either of them. But the flash of steel and red brought an unexpected wave of relief, as did the threat that followed.

"He asked nicely, but I will not." Kazuha with sword drawn and glare deadly, one arm pulling the man backwards by the neck, just as he had Heizou.

Whether it was the sudden shift in power or the presence of another face, Xingqiu seemed to finally gain his wits about him, "Chongyun, stop! He wasn’t trying to hurt me!"

Kazuha stopped mid-step and lowered his blade, "Chongyun?" His grip loosened slightly as he leaned over the young man's shoulder to get a proper look at his face.

A bit of humanity returned to those bright blue eyes as they widened in surprise, "Kazuha?!"

Both Heizou and Xingqiu stared at the two, gawking, "You two know each other?!"

Kazuha dropped his grip entirely, allowing Chongyun to shuffle past him to steady Xingqiu. The two looked at him and Heizou, who stared back in turn.

It took a few painfully long seconds for the newcomers to realize the scene they'd unwittingly invaded. Kazuha acted first, taking Heizou's hand and spinning him around to face away from the body. A courtesy he appreciated immensely now that he wasn’t entirely focused on keeping Xingqiu from losing it. "Are you hurt?" He gently cupped his cheek, all of his focus on Heizou and little else, his priorities clear.

"No, I-I'm…" Heizou drew a slow breath, subconsciously leaning into the touch in search of comfort. The knee-jerk response was to say he was fine, he could handle it, but lying at that point would only strain the situation more. Instead, Heizou swallowed and shook his head, "I'm uninjured, but…" he slowly turned back towards the crime scene, nodding towards the unfortunate victim.

Like a switch, the situation flipped the moment Kazuha caught sight of the mess, "We need to get out of here. Now." The gentle hold on Heizou’s hand tightened as Kazuha tried to tug him away from the deck and towards the ramp.

“What?” Heizou blinked, staggering his steps to slow whatever roll Kazuha was getting on. "We can’t just…We can’t just leave—"

“Heizou,” The look Kazuha gave him was nothing short of a glare, "The Millelith will be here at any moment and I would rather not give them any reason to believe we're involved in this." He glanced sidelong at Xingqiu, who was being steadied by Chongyun as he checked him over for injuries. “We should leave now and testify at the station later.”

“But…!” His eyes cast to the boys nearby. They spoke in harsh whispers, Xingqiu rattling off what Heizou could assume was his explanation of events in increasing hysterics. Whatever he was saying, it had come as a shock to Chongyun as well.

Kazuha didn’t seem keen on staying for the tale himself, “It’s better we don’t get involved further. We can speak with Beidou if—”

Heizou tried to jerk away from his grasp, “What are you saying?! Kazuha, there’s been a murder! I have to— ” He protested, even as he became aware of the tremor in his voice, how his hands shook as he tried to force his way past, his arms shivering in Kazuha’s hold when he was restrained once more. Logic reminded him of the reason for Kazuha’s insistence, yet his rational thoughts were overcome by fear and the need to redeem himself for something his cruel mind claimed was somehow his fault.

“Heizou,” Kazuha hissed, his grip tightening to reel Heizou back in and a scowl to lock him in place, “I understand your motive here, but you are not an officer in this country and I do not want you to run afoul of this justice system too.”

A sound mind would note the concern in the man's voice, yet even with the severity of the situation laid out before him, Kazuha's words stung like fingers in a still healing wound. Heizou shoved the man off him once again, a firm reminder of the physical strength he'd so often denied possessing, and returned the scowl in kind. “I’m not just going to walk away, Kazuha!” He spat, anger rising along with his voice, “I can’t leave Okamoto like this!”

Kazuha froze, his grip loosening only minutely as he seemed to process what had been said. Slowly, his attention cast beyond Heizou’s shoulders to the lifeless man, the shared terror dawning on him. Heizou had not simply come across the scene of just any unfortunate victim. One of their own had been slain, and somehow, Heizou had been involved.

Before more questions could be raised, the clatter of armored boots stampeded up the boardwalk, a troop of Millelith finally arriving on scene. Some stumbled back at the heinous sight, some inched closer as though to check if the man still lived despite such egregious injuries. Those that remained blocked their path, armed with lances and the authority to alter the course of all their lives.

A body with four persons on scene, the victim’s blood spilt on them.

"Nobody move! All of you are coming with us!"

It was standard protocol in most countries to allow a detainee the opportunity to contact someone before any degree of questioning took place. A friend or family member, or anyone who would give up their time and mora in exchange for their release. Of course, not everyone who crossed the threshold of the station had the luxury of such a person. Either they lacked the funds, or their tolerance had run dry, and their saving grace would ultimately look the other way. It was those people that Heizou would go out of his way to help, honestly believing they could reform if they had just a bit more support, a bit more direction. Someone who wasn’t so ready to give up on them.

Heizou felt fortunate that he had people waiting in the winds to come to his aid. Before they’d been carted off to Millelith HQ, Kazuha informed the guard that the two of them were registered Inazuman Nationals sponsored under the Crux Fleet. Which, Heizou quickly learned, meant they were entitled to the presence of said sponsor during questioning. In other words, they were benched—quite literally—until the captain or someone nominated in her stead arrived. Heizou made a mental note to thank Beidou for her foresight to have such paperwork forged before he ended up running aground with the law.

That was the only luxury they’d been afforded. Once they’d confirmed Kazuha’s claim was true, none of the guards had spoken more than a handful of words to them. They’d been made to sit together on a stone bench outside what Heizou assumed was the Millelith equivalent of interview rooms, which was where Xingqiu and Chongyun were currently held.

“This isn’t good.” mused Heizou as he fiddled with the iron shackles encasing his wrists. Despite his insistence that he’d come quietly, the soldiers had sought to restrain all four of them, as though they expected them to lash out at any moment. Which, in their defense, was completely valid to think of four murder suspects.

Next to him, Kazuha sighed, “No. No, it is not.” He sat up straighter, eyes firmly on the guard standing opposite of them. They’d spoken little since their arrest, in part to avoid incriminating themselves, and in part because of the tension the encounter had left between them. 

As much as Heizou didn’t want to dwell on it—attributing their brief argument to the heat of the moment and concern for his well-being—the silence was making him anxious. Kazuha was clearly displeased with him, and Heizou knew it wasn’t entirely because they’d all gotten arrested. Unfortunately, the feeling was mutual. There hadn’t been a chance to explain to Kazuha what happened before he was trying to force him away. Heizou knew well what would happen if they were seen, but being caught was the least of his concerns when he’d just discovered the man he saw not even ten minutes prior had been viciously murdered in broad daylight. And the way he spoke to him, the jab about the incident in Inazuma. To hear Kazuha say it like that, as though he’d done it deliberately…

I’m not going to be able to calm down until I address this.

Sitting in the silence of the holding room, the question left his mouth before he could think better of it. “Why did you stop me?”

Even without context, Kazuha answered as though it was completely obvious, “To protect you.”

“What?” Heizou leaned forward to get a better look at Kazuha’s expression, “From who—”

“From yourself, Heizou.” Kazuha cut him off, his agitation apparent in his voice, “I can only theorize what it was that caused it, but I know a panic attack when I see one.”

Heizou stared at him, letting the statement sink in. In hindsight, yes, the scene had definitely triggered some kind of trauma response. Perhaps it was true that he was not in the best mental state to be investigating a violent murder, especially one involving an acquaintance. Perhaps it was simply too soon, the damage still too fresh. The nightmares, the intrusive thoughts…Then to have that man—Chongyun—grab him in such a way…

That’s not the problem.

“Still, what you said about running afoul of this justice system…” Heizou muttered, a bite in his words. “It made it sound like I was committing a crime for just wanting to help. You don’t even know…” He trailed off, eyes lowering as he vividly recalled the sight of Okamoto lifeless against the rocks. He couldn’t have walked away easily even if it was a stranger, but knowing the victim, remembering how he looked at him as he fled… “It hurt, okay? I thought you’d trust me more.”

Kazuha’s shoulders sagged as the frustration melted away, revealing the worry beneath, “It isn’t that I don’t trust you. I do, but given the scenario, I feared you would push yourself into a worse state had I not intervened. I couldn’t watch you do that to yourself.” Those soft eyes locked with Heizou’s once more, “Regardless, I should not have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s…” Again, the conditioned response of “fine” crossed his mind, but Heizou bit it back. Honesty was better here. “I understand where you’re coming from, but that still hurt after…”

Across from them, the guard shifted where he stood, swapping the polearm he carried from one hand to the other. A clear act to make his presence known. Kazuha silently acknowledged the man, glancing between him, the door, and Heizou. The look in his eyes conveyed a warning: the walls have ears.

Noted.

That’s where the conversation was left, neither wanting to delve further into the clearly personal and potentially damning topic in front of the guard. The current situation was far more salient. 

Heizou observed the door to the locked room, straining to hear the muffled conversation happening within. He only managed a handful of words here, some much louder than others. They’d brought both boys in at once, which wasn’t entirely unusual. Sometimes it was faster to question multiple witnesses at once.

But we aren’t being treated as witnesses, are we? We’re suspects.

The door was flung open, startling both of them to their feet. Out walked a red-faced officer, dragging a struggling Chongyun by the scruff of his jacket. "You need to cool off." He grunted as he flung Chongyun towards the bench, nearly toppling both men as they did their best to catch him while still cuffed themselves. The door was slammed shut once more, the lone guard stepping in front of it with his pike at the ready.

"Xingqiu!" Chongyun scrambled to his feet, seemingly undeterred by the rough treatment, as he glared furiously at the sole guard on duty. The simmering anger Heizou witnessed during their first encounter was back as a barely contained boil. The heat of his rage rolled off him in waves, enough so that Heizou could have sworn he could physically feel it flow around him.

Feral bright blue eyes darted between the door and the nervous looking guard stationed next to it, as though ready to make a break for it. The guard gulped and inched towards the bell strung nearby, ready to alert the other officers if Chongyun should make good on his unspoken threats.

"Chongyun, calm down!" Before Chongyun could land himself in a cell for assaulting an officer, Kazuha grabbed his shoulder and all but forced him back to the bench. "You will only worsen the situation if you don't control yourself."

Panting, the pale man’s eyes drifted from the guard to Kazuha in front of him. His brow furrowed once he seemed to register what was happening.

"Ugh…Sorry, I…" Eyes scrunched shut, he pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off what Heizou assumed was the beginnings of a nasty headache.

Kazuha sighed and patted him on the shoulder, "Just keep your breathing in check. I doubt they'll give us the luxury of ice cream while we're here."

Heizou quirked a brow at the two. Ice cream? What… It would seem that Kazuha had befriended an interesting character during his travels, and it just so happened that person was deeply involved with his new acquaintance. Heizou made a mental note to ask what the hell he’d just witnessed once all four of them were free. For now, he just had to worry about getting free, and making sure the two young men mixed up with them got out okay. “Are you all right?” Heizou asked as he took a seat next to Chongyun, “It sounded like things were getting pretty heated in there.”

“I’ll say.” Chongyun sighed and shook his head, "Are all interrogations so aggressive?" He looked back at the door, the supposed questioning having resumed in full, shouting and all.

“Not all of them…Most officers are pretty collected during questioning. At least at the beginning.” Heizou explained, though his focus was on the guarded door himself and the unintelligible conversation happening on the other side.

“That didn’t feel like questioning at all.”

That piqued Heizou's attention, along with his concern, "What do you mean?"

Chongyun tried to run his fingers through his hair, then sighed when he realized the shackles prevented him from doing so properly. Instead, he settled for fidgeting with the decor on his pants. He seems to be having trouble coming down. “It’s kind of foggy, but…they kept asking why we did it. Nothing about what we saw, just… tell me what you did. ”

Heizou tensed immediately. Of the four of them, Chongyun was probably the least suspicious, seeing as he didn’t have any “evidence” on his person. Even with different interview styles, at that stage of the investigation, an officer should have been fact-finding, not making accusations. “What did you tell them?”

“That I had just shown up and Xingqiu was just…” Chongyun huffed. “There was a lot of yelling. I don’t…really remember, but…” His eyes widened, his head snapping up. Suddenly Chongyun was on his feet in front of Heizou, speaking hurriedly, rising into a frenzy again. “You were with Xingqiu, right? Please, you have to convince them that he wasn’t involved. They’re going to pin the blame on him!”

The claim had Heizou on his feet again, “What?! Why—” Even with what little he could glean from the crime scene, he could tell that Xingqiu had no hand in it. Any officer worth his badge could tell the same with a proper review of the evidence, right?

“I don’t know! When I denied doing anything and that I just got there, they kept asking what motive Xingqiu had to do it, and how. And then…” Chongyun tugged uselessly on his shackles, his focus flicking again between the door, the guard, and his two fellow suspects. In the interview—interrogation room, the conversation had grown louder, more hectic. More…unsettling.

It was a tactic Heizou was familiar with, but didn’t particularly like using. Force two suspects into the same interrogation, and goad them into throwing the other to the wolves. When that didn’t work, isolate the less resilient of the two, and wear them down until they caved. The unsavory method was more likely to lead to a false confession than any real findings, and Heizou wasn’t a fan of sentencing scapegoats.

—“You aren’t going to believe me.”—

Xingqiu’s words echoed around his memory. Scared out of his mind, overwhelmed by what he’d just witnessed, and frantically searching for the person he trusted to help in his time of need. Chongyun was that person, and whether that connection was apparent to the officer or not, he’d been removed and Xingqiu left to face down the fangs himself.

A hard thud sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a muffled plea from Xingqiu. Chongyun leapt to his feet, ready to charge the door if things escalated further. He cast one last, pleading gaze towards Heizou, bright eyes conveying fear mixed with conviction. “Please, he didn’t do anything wrong…!”

A flash of his own “sentencing” flickered across Heizou’s mind, sending a shiver up his spine. He would rather not think that Xingqiu had landed himself in the same kind of situation as he had, but as things stood, he very well may end up taking the fall for a crime he didn’t commit.

I can’t let that happen.

Instinct took over logic, and despite reason urging otherwise, Heizou let it. “Kazuha,” Heizou said as he eyed the door. Corner, frame, hinges, nob, lock. Nothing special. “You said you trust me, right?”

“Of course,” No hesitation, “More than anyone.”

Heizou flexed his hands in his cuffs, his face set in determination, his resolve hardened. With a quick glance and a nod to Kazuha, Heizou made up his mind: “Watch my back.”

In a blink, Heizou was at the door, a swift kick landing just below the lock, splintering the wood and dislodging the knob from the frame. The guard next to him scuttled back, shocked by the speed and strength the supposedly “feeble” detainee displayed. Heizou paid it no mind, his sole focus on the occupants inside the room.

Seated inside was Xingqiu, his hand still bound and shackled to an iron ring screwed into the table. His clothing was even more disheveled than before, the blood that stained his fair skin tracked through with tears. Over him stood the red-faced man, even more enraged than before at the interruption of what Heizou could now confirm was a violent interrogation.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” The looming man quickly abandoned his post, rounding Xingqiu and stomping right up to Heizou. Standing twice Heizou’s size, with broad shoulders and a thick build, he looked like he could throw someone as slight as Xingqiu through a wall with ease. He’d probably already threatened to do just that.

Clearly the type to intimidate with size and shouting. Heizou wasn’t going to let that happen, not when Xingqiu was about to meet the same fate he had just days before. “Interrupting an unlawful interrogation.” Heizou glared up at him, voice level as he spoke. “Your accusations are unjustified. This man is innocent.”

The officer glared at him, face reddening even more. Instead of defending his actions, he turned the heat towards Heizou. “Are you here to confess in his stead?”

Heizou tensed but remained where he stood, defiant and determined, “There is nothing to confess. The four of us simply happened upon the victim.”

“According to his testimony, he witnessed the man’s death.” The officer snorted, hitching a thumb at Xingqiu, who could only lower his head. “That is more than enough—”

“And?” Heizou interrupted, “What is your supporting evidence?”

The officer snorted and stomped back towards the table. He grabbed Xingqiu by the shoulder, making him flinch upright again. “Do you not see the blood on this boy’s face? On his clothes? All the victim’s.”

Heizou had yet to hear the full story from Xingqiu. He knew that the man witnessed Okamoto doing some form of self-harm, and from the state of his clothing, it was something drastic enough that Xingqiu had been caught in the ensuing mess. A strange happening to add to the chaotic situation that led to Okamoto’s demise. 

It was all too unusual to be a cut and dry murder case, and without getting Xingqiu’s side of things directly, he was disadvantaged in terms of intel. That’s never stopped me before. “The blood could easily be the result of the violent death he witnessed. Assuming he’s the culprit would disregard the state of the scene of the crime.”

“You must be new around here.” the officer scoffed as he squeezed Xingqiu’s shoulder enough to make him wince, “Rumor has it he fancies himself a swordsman. He could have easily slain the man.”

“That’s not true!” Xingqiu quickly interjected, not towards the officer, but towards Heizou. “Please, I would never—”

“Quiet!” The officer barked as he shoved Xingqiu, startling him into silence once more.

The clear display of abuse had Heizou’s hackles raised, but he refrained from commenting in favor of fighting the violent man with the best weapon he had: his intelligence. “Was he searched?”

“Of course!” The officer snorted, a prideful smirk on his lips. “He is a dangerous suspect, he was searched thoroughly before—.”

Heizou cut him off, “Then what weapon did you find? Because he was not carrying one, nor was there one at the scene.”

“Lies. There was a bloody knife.”

The claim had Xingqiu’s head snapping up again. He stared up at the officer in confusion, as though he too just learned this bit of information. “Where?”

“Next to the victim.” The officer retorted as he smirked down at Xingqiu, “Why, are you missing a knife?”

This officer is dirty, Heizou concluded, he’s purposefully phrasing things to corner Xingqiu so he’ll give him enough info to twist into a confession. Before Xingqiu could say a word, Heizou continued. “Do you see any blood on his hands?” Heizou pointed to Xingqiu’s shackled hands, one of the few places that hadn’t been soiled, as were his sleeves.

The officer growled, growing frustrated with Heizou’s counterarguments. Good. “He has a vision. He could use that to clean any evidence.”

Vision… Heizou glanced at Xingqiu’s belt, where his vision was clasped. Xingqiu has a hydro vision. In his unfortunate past as a doushin during the Vision Hunt, such a statement would be damning. But this time, it could very well save the man.

While there wasn’t blood on his sleeves, there was blood on his jacket and dried on his face and legs. That would imply he was close to Okamoto at the time, but not necessarily involved. They really should have let him clean up before interrogating him. Is this how the Millelith operate? However… “So you allege that he cleaned just his sleeves, and not the rest of him, to cover up his supposed crimes? If the scene didn’t look like a slaughterhouse, I’d be inclined to investigate. But as it stands, your theory doesn’t hold water.”

The thorough dressing-down had Xingqiu staring in disbelief and the officer scowling, “And what of his partner?” He ventured in a last-stitch attempt at backing his crooked accusations, “With his affliction, one could easily imagine what chaos he’d wreak. The two together—”

If Heizou’s hands weren’t bound, he would have crossed his arms. Instead, he just smirked, “You mean the man wearing all white, with white hair? You think he could have done this without a drop on him?”

“You—” The man grabbed Heizou by the lapel and tugged him closer to his face, “Do you want to spend the night in a cell? Because I’ll gladly arrange that for you.”

Thinking fast, Heizou gripped the man’s wrist, squeezing hard to send a message, “You’re going to throw an Inazuman national directly under Captain Beidou’s care into jail under false pretenses over your bungled investigation and failure to follow procedure? If that’s how you want to get Lady Ningguang’s attention, by all means, lock me up.”

With all of his false allegations rebuffed, the officer was left seething. He glared at Heizou, a vain attempt at forcing him to stand down, yet Heizou remained defiant. Before he could say anything more, he was interrupted by a soft "Sir." from the cracked door frame. There peered the other guard, his face pensive as he entered.

"What is it?" Heizou was unceremoniously shoved aside, the officer meeting the guard halfway. Whatever the nervous guard whispered to him, it seemed to knock the wind from his sails.

"This isn't over." the man shouldered past the guard and stomped down the hall. Only when his footsteps could no longer be heard did Heizou finally exhale. Crisis averted. For now.

After a moment of silence, the guard unfastened the keys from his belt and set to unlocking their shackles. "Please don't run. Your attorney representative is on the way."

Attorney? Not Beidou? The shackles fell away and Heizou ruefully flexed his wrists. Whoever had cuffed him definitely wasn't interested in assuring his comfort. Xingqiu wasn't spared either, his skin rubbed raw from the restraints and, Heizou speculated, the struggling during his interrogation. Strange, I would assume he'd be rather collected under pressure.

The young man wobbled to his feet, bracing one injured hand against the table to keep himself from collapsing. Heizou quickly looped an arm around his shoulders to steady him. "Are you all right?" Heizou asked as he quickly assessed him for any additional damage caused by his rough handling.

Xingqiu nodded, the haunted look on his face ebbing slowly into relief.

The two were swiftly ushered from the interrogation room to the holding area, where Kazuha and Chongyun looked just as shocked as the guard had been at his sudden destructive entrance. It was Chongyun who acted first, sweeping over to claim Xingqiu from Heizou. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, just shaken." Xingqiu gave his companion a wobbly smile, but a smile nonetheless. "You have my gratitude, Heizou. Although, I wasn't expecting such a heroic rescue."

Heizou chuckled, "I don't normally kick down doors to interrupt interrogations, I assure you. But from the looks of it, it's good that I did." Unfortunately, such rebellious actions would blow his low profile almost worse than being found at a murder scene. Regardless, he'd prevented Xingqiu from being coerced into a false confession and any punishment that would follow. That made the notoriety boost worth it in his eyes.

A glance at Kazuha confirmed the same sentiment. A fond, almost proud smile on his face as he slipped his hand into his. The look in his eyes said it all: You did well.

Chongyun guided Xingqiu to the bench and helped him out of his overshirt, leaving his white frilled blouse that was thankfully free of stains. Now that they had a chance, getting Xingqiu more comfortable was Chongyun's top priority. "I'll ask for a damp cloth and a blanket." he spoke quietly, calmly, much different from how he conducted himself during their confrontation. Perhaps it was his imagination, but even his presence felt different. Was that Xingqiu's influence?

A thanks was offered in return, lingering touches a small comfort on bruised wrists. Heizou looked on with a hint of warmth blooming in his chest. How anyone could view them as anything short of lovers was beyond his conjecture. It was clear just from how they looked at each other, as though the other was a treasure long sought and forever held.

A heartwarming sight, even if Heizou was a bit envious.

"Well, I suppose now we'll need to wait for your attorney to arrive for our release." Xingqiu asked once he fully had his wits about him. "Or at least to be questioned."

"It sounds like it." Heizou wasn't looking forward to it by any means, but at least having an attorney present would make it less likely for him to receive the same treatment as Xingqiu. Hopefully.

A firm knock on the holding room's door redirected their attention. The guard paused, then with a look that was far more pleading than warning, he pulled the keys from his belt to allow the guest in. "Good evening, Miss Yanfei." he greeted through the gap in the door before opening it fully.

In entered a woman dressed in red, carrying four rolled and sealed missives under one arm, and a book that Heizou could only describe as intimidatingly thick under the other. "Good evening, Zhe'yuan." She passed two of the missives to the guard as she entered, all business on her face. By her appearance, Heizou could surmise the woman was inhuman to at least some degree; horns and scales, unique eyes, the aura around her in general. Given these traits, any Inazuman would assume she was a yokai of some variety, but those were less common in Liyue. Could she be one of the adepti rumored to reside here? Though they are less likely to live among humans, let alone practice law.

It was the name that rang a bell, "Yanfei…Shinobu's mentor?"

“Hm?” She turned to him, appraising him briefly, “Do you know Shinobu?”

“She is—” Heizou paused a second to consider his wording given the recent events, “—A good friend of mine, but you and I have exchanged correspondence regarding an international case.”

It was some years ago, before the Sakoku Decree; a major trade dispute between a Liyuen textile supplier and their Inazuman distributor over subpar goods they alleged were counterfeit had escalated into threatening letters. A reported assault between the two had the file skip the Kanjou Commission and land right on his desk. It was a tricky case to navigate with the parties involved, especially with the victim being a citizen of Liyue. Even more so when Heizou discovered said national had sent the letters to himself and the “assault” was a drunken teahouse scuffle.

The volatile mixture of embezzlement, fraud, and broken contracts required him to seek counsel  from a legal expert from Liyue, and it just so happened that Shinobu knew such an expert.

“A shared case…” Yanfei pulled one of the missives out and quickly unsealed it to peek at the top. Recognition lit her eyes immediately, “I see! Doushin Shikanoin Heizou. Yes, I recall that case well, detective.”

It was only after she read off his name that Heizou realized his mistake. Simply going by “Heizou” was innocuous enough for conversation, but his full name and (former) title came with a hard-earned reputation. Said reputation could have easily migrated across the seas with the many travelers he’d come across over the years. To have a member of Liyue’s security forces learn it—as well as the man he’d almost certainly made an enemy of by kicking down his door mid-interrogation—could compromise his already shaky agenda for starting fresh.

Thankfully, it seemed the new point of notoriety hadn’t reached Yanfei’s ears, or if it had, she didn’t let on. “It’s surprising to see you here. Less so, Kazuha. No offense.” She smiled mischievously at Kazuha, who gave a mirthful grin in turn, as though the two were reminiscing over some comedic run-in with the law.

Heizou gave Kazuha a look that asked both ‘Do you know everyone?’ and ‘How many times have you been arrested, exactly?’ Those questions were left for later in favor of addressing the elephant in the room, “I’m afraid the situation is complicated. I’d like to seek counsel with you prior to questioning.”

“Certainly! Just allow me a moment to handle these two.” She turned to Xingqiu and Chongyun, who both looked relieved as they were given what Heizou assumed were their respective missives. “You are being released under the supervision of Xu on the condition that you do not leave the city until you are cleared. Understood?”

The two looked relieved, though there was a new hint of tension in Xingqiu’s thin shoulders. If Heizou had to guess, this “Xu” was the attendant he’d been dodging earlier in the day. Which meant he wasn’t getting out of holding unpunished, or at least his ears weren’t. Regardless, Xingqiu gave his thanks with a smile and a promise of tea on another day.

“All right…” Yanfei turned on heel as she unraveled the remaining scrolls, “Give me just a moment to review these. From what I was told, the two of you have landed yourselves in a pretty nasty situation.”

That’s a way to put it. “I’m grateful for the help.” He said with what he hoped was a convincingly sincere smile despite the steadily creeping nerves. “I’ll have to thank Captain Beidou for sending Liyue’s best to our defense.”

Yanfei looked up from her reading, brows furrowed, “Captain Beidou?” All at once, any excitement she held for the prospect of a new case was replaced by confusion and concern, “Captain Beidou wasn’t the one who sent for me.”

“Huh? Then who…”

It was then that he picked up on the distant sound of heels clicking against stone, a steady pace growing closer. The spike in Heizou’s pulse was quickly followed by a sinking feeling of dread, as though something formidable would be upon them at any moment. He would think it was his paranoia working him up if not for Kazuha sliding closer, bumping his shoulder to show he was there and would come to his defense if needed.

Heizou prayed it didn’t come to that.

The clack of heels came to a halt just outside the door. Without waiting for a knock, the guard opened the door, regarding the visitor with a quick bow as he stepped aside. There stood a woman clad in blue and black, a fur jacket hanging off her shoulders. Her presence was enough to bring silence to the room, and her sidelong stare was all the guard needed to make himself scarce.

That’s never a good sign.

“Detective Shikanoin Heizou, I’d like you to come with me.” Her smooth, sultry tone had Heizou on edge again. The way she spoke exuded an authority that he’d only ever seen personally from Madam Kujou when addressing her subordinates, but without the warmth of concern for their wellbeing. Instead there was a cold confidence in how she carried herself. An effortless grace that didn’t come from years of high society, but from blending into the shadows surrounding it, ever observing as she lay in wait. A woman who knew she was a weapon and was unafraid to prove how dangerous she was.

Whoever this mystery benefactor was, her assistance was coming at a cost.

It was Kazuha who spoke first as he stepped ahead of Heizou, readying for an altercation neither hoped would come. Even he seemed uncertain of the challenger in front of them. “May I ask on what grounds?”

The woman’s expression remained neutral as she placed a hand on her hip, “On the grounds that the Ministry of Civil Affairs needs to have a discussion with you.”

That had Kazuha stepping back, whether for backing down or knowing that they were up against something—or some one —he’d rather not cross. Unfortunately, Heizou wasn’t so keen on giving in just yet, “If you’re here to interrogate us, I’m afraid there’s already a line.”

To that, the woman merely smirked, “Lady Ningguang does not wait in lines, nor do I.”

The mention of the Tianquan had Heizou faltering. Why would someone so powerful send for someone like him? Had Beidou contacted her? Or had news reached her of the grisly murder, and she wanted to see to the crime personally? Would that mean she was sent to secure their release? Are we being released? No, she mentioned a discussion with the Ministry of Civil Affairs. That means…

Heizou turned to Yanfei for guidance, but all he received was a nod and, “You need to go with her.” Not should, need. No elaboration, no context. This was the best legal advisor in Liyue saying this was beyond her standing.

There was little else he could do but comply. Heizou steadied his breath, forced the tension from his shoulders, and faced who he prayed wouldn’t be the next Takano. “Then, lead the way.”

The woman smirked again and sauntered from the room, expecting them to follow.

The two were ushered down a long hall lit only by sparse lamps and the ethereally glowing bracelet around the woman’s wrist. She said nothing, nor did she look back, silently leading them further and further into what Heizou was realizing was a part of Millelith Headquarters civilians were never meant to go. He tried to remain focused, telling himself that however sketchy this woman pretended not to be, that he wasn’t in danger. If she truly did work for Lady Ningguang, and Yanfei had not interjected, then it was probably safe, right?

He told himself this, but Heizou couldn’t stop the steadily rising anxiety he felt as they were shepherded further into the building. It didn’t help that Kazuha was so on guard. If he knew the woman, he didn’t let on, else he would have given Heizou some kind of briefing as they walked. Instead he marched on silently and stalwartly, adding to Heizou’s uneasiness.

“Your reputation precedes you, detective.” Again she spoke calmly, not making eye contact as they walked, “As does your reasoning for coming to Liyue. Quite the daring escape you made.”

Heizou stopped dead in his tracks, horror on his face. She knows. She knows. This lady works for Lady Ningguang and she knows. Oh, Archons, this is the worst-case scenario and I’ve been here less than a day! He took a step back, eyes darting around in search of a quick exit, with Kazuha stepping in front of him, ready to guard his retreat.

Before Heizou’s panic could get the better of him, the woman spoke again, “You can relax. Liyue currently doesn’t have an extradition treaty with Inazuma, and the Ministry has no interest in spreading your private affairs.”

She stopped before a door at the very end of the hall and turned to face them, arms crossed across her chest. “That is…If you agree to help us.”

In his current state, Heizou wasn’t certain he’d turn down any offer if it meant he could keep his head off the Liyue bounty list another day. He swallowed thickly, and spoke in the steadiest voice he could manage, “I’m listening.”

The woman kept her eyes on them as she held the glowing bracelet near the lock. With a faint chime and a click, the door opened, and she gestured the two men inside. 

The room was shrouded in darkness, with only the remnants of the dim hallway lighting the way. The scent of ink and freshly printed paper hung in the stagnant air, lending a sense of familiarity to the unsettling stillness. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving them in complete darkness.

Reflexively, Heizou tensed, mentally prepared for any number of conflicts that would arise in a pitch-black room with a dangerous woman. And equally reflexively, Kazuha’s hand snaked into his, keeping him grounded with laced fingers and a reassuring squeeze.

Then with another click and followed by an electric buzz, all the lamps flickered on at once. The room was suddenly illuminated in a wash of bright amber, making Heizou instinctively shield his eyes from the onslaught of light after several minutes without. He blinked rapidly, clutching Kazuha’s hand as he found his bearings in the unfamiliar space.

As soon as he adjusted to the light, he was met with a frighteningly reminiscent sight.

A wall of papers.

But not just papers. Notes, clippings, photos, all connected by varying colors of string. A clue board, almost too-neatly organized, well beyond what Heizou ever had the patience to arrange himself. Impressive, but not what ultimately drew his attention.

In the center of the board, a collection of photographs. Four headshots, each of them with notes beneath.

The first one made his heart drop out of his chest and onto the stone floor.

Cheng Jiahao
Age 11
Last seen…13 June ※※※※

Missing 6 months

Chapter Text

“What…What is this…?”

There were many words Heizou could use to describe the wall in front of him. He'd organized many himself; collections of clues strung together with red string, each point a new bit of information, a detail pinned for later. Sketches, photos, notes, file numbers. Some connected across the board, most did not. Ready to be torn down and reworked, as they’d surely been countless times already. Hours upon hours had gone into this collection of clues. Yet, as impressive as it was, all Heizou could feel was dread. Staring at him from the center of each web was a victim’s profile; a name, a photo, a number. Four more crimes, four more victims snatched from the world for reasons unknown. All of them children.

He stared back at each of them, memorizing their faces, their expressions, how happy they were in those captured moments. The scraps of paper tacked beneath each noted the day that happiness ended. Missing 6…5…4…

Heizou swallowed back bile. Even with just a cursory glance, he could confirm his theory, his fears. Too similar, too close to home, even with an ocean between them .

It was the same pattern as before; a boy, a girl, two twins, but the dates…

A pang of terror lanced through Heizou’s chest. If it follows the same pattern, then it’s only two weeks behind…!

He whipped around to face the woman, "Miss, how recent are these notes?"

"Current as of two days ago. Our latest." 

"And no new evidence?" Heizou marched back towards her, eyes almost wild as his worst fears crept into reality. “All of these children; they’re still presumed missing?” They haven’t found—

The woman nodded, a brow raised in curiosity. “If you’re asking if we’ve found any bodies, then no. We fortunately haven’t uncovered any remains matching their descriptions.”

The terror receded, but only minutely. Heizou exhaled with momentary relief, a hand pressed to his chest to calm his racing heart. “Then we’re not too late.” Heizou turned back towards the board, taking in all the information piece by piece. This can’t be a coincidence. The dates line up too closely, the victims have too much in common, and our benefactor here…

Heizou faced the woman, seeking answers he already knew. “You brought me here because you want my help with these cases.”

She nodded, “That is the deal, yes. Agree to assist, and we’ll assure your release.” She crossed the room to the board herself, the smallest of smirks on her lips. Amusement that her plan appeared to be working balanced with the severity of the situation.

Heizou began observing her closely, analyzing every movement, watching for any sign of malice. He found none, “You already know about the cases in Inazuma. You want my help because you suspect they’re connected, too.”

The smirk widened, “You catch on quick, as expected. Sounds like our suspicions are the same.”

It wasn’t a suspicion anymore for Heizou. His intuition told him they were connected, that there were too many common factors for it to be coincidence. There’s something bigger here. I can feel it.

Heizou glanced at Kazuha at his side. The man's face was grim, full of concern. He knew just as well as Heizou what he was getting into. It would completely change the course of his fresh start. All his plans, the wish to live quietly as he pulled himself back together after far too long a struggle, would no longer be possible. It would mean diving right back into a situation he only narrowly escaped from and potentially endangering his life again.

But…

Heizou vividly recalled the four photos lost in the fire, the four children smiling happily for their families. He thought of Umehara, who threw himself into his work to pay for his daughters funerals, never giving himself time to properly grieve. He thought of Aoyama, who met his end by an unseen hand, and Takano, who tried to end him too, so those children would stay missing. Who would surely hunt him down if he knew Heizou was back on the case.

Then he thought of Okamoto, who believed in him.

“I’ll do it.” Heizou stated resolutely as he met her eyes, “But I have a condition of my own.”

The woman somehow looked surprised, either at how readily he acquiesced or that he had the gall to give a counteroffer. “Oh?”

Heizou didn’t hesitate. “Allow me to help investigate Okamoto’s death.”

Kazuha’s eyes grew wide with shock, and he stepped forward as though considering physically stopping him. But Heizou stood firm before the intimidating woman. If I can handle Sara, I can handle you.

The woman quirked a brow, “Still a suspect, but you want to help investigate?”

Heizou’s lip curled into an almost smug smirk. She'd already given him the first “case”, and he'd easily found the answer. “You wouldn’t have offered this deal at all if you even remotely thought I was guilty.”

Her hardened, skeptical look faded into that of abject amusement. “Hm…Is this you calling my bluff?” a dare, a measure of his conviction.

At that moment, Heizou would meet it with all the determination he'd funneled into the hours upon days upon weeks looking into a case that everyone had long given up on. None of the arrogance of which he was accused, but the compassion so few appreciated. The desire for a happy end, regardless of what toll it took on him. “It’s me wanting to help these children. All of them, here and in Inazuma.”

A beat of silence passed between them, as though the woman was waiting for Heizou to flinch. When he didn't, she smiled, genuinely, as her stance relaxed. “I think I like you, Detective Shikanoin.”

“Just Heizou is fine.” he grinned in return, the tension easing in his shoulders. For a brief moment, he felt the same rush he did when he uncovered an important clue. Only this time, it was the knowledge that this woman wanted to believe in him too.

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, she offered a hand to shake. “Then, just Yelan is fine, too.”

It was normal, Heizou would remind anyone watching him, to not want to see a corpse. A natural reaction, a long-seeded instinct borne of self-preservation and fear of the unknown, of what happens after.

This is why, when taking part in a homicide investigation, or any case involving a death, a detective must maintain a certain sense of mental separation. A means of detaching yourself from your emotions for your own protection. You had to remove the person from the body on the ground. Leave only the facts just long enough to collect the pieces of the scattered, broken puzzle, then move on. 

So it was entirely expected of him to take his time in preparing for the examination, despite his insistence on being part of the autopsy to begin with. He'd asked for this. He knew what awaited him on the other side of that door. Who awaited him. But he could push past it, just like anyone else in his field. He needed to. He needed—

"You don't have to do this," Kazuha spoke quietly, evenly, pulling him from his anxious thoughts with unsolicited logic. "They'll have a report you can review later."

Kazuha was right; he could just as easily wait for Yelan to finish her examination and refer to her notes. But knowing what he knew— seeing what he saw —he needed to check things for himself. If he didn't, crucial information could be lost. It was up to him. Only him.

Heizou avoided facing him, instead turning towards the sink, taking the time to pull his hair into a proper ponytail. "With how botched this investigation is, it's imperative that I see him...as he is now..." From the mirror, he could see Kazuha watching him, noting the stern, thin-lipped expression of a man who wanted to say so much but was holding back. Heizou didn't need to know him as well as he did to know Kazuha was just as pissed as he was worried.

The implication hung in the air, resonating in the silence. The person Kazuha wanted to protect him from, the one forcing him into a space he historically hated to be in, doing a job that caused him significant distress, to someone that he, despite their past, considered more than just an acquaintance.

It has to be me.

Heizou shook his head, "Can we just…talk about this later? I need…" he sighed, shoulders deflating as he once again turned towards the door. “This needs to be done, okay? I’ll be fine.”

Where he expected further protest, Heizou was instead met with the shuffling of cloth as Kazuha shrugged out of his haori, folding it neatly before setting it on the table. “Then let us get it done.”

Heizou was quick to offer a protest of his own, "You should probably wait out here. It won't be pretty."

“It would not be my first time seeing such a thing, I assure you." Kazuha rebutted as he pulled on a smock. The statement was meant to comfort him, but it also raised more questions. Heizou had to remind himself of Kazuha’s profession, or rather, the skills he held and what led him to needing to use them. Part of him wanted details, perhaps even advice on how to handle such a grisly task, but decided against it for both their sakes. He was grateful for the help regardless. The secondary meaning to his statement, the support he needed to take the leap: where you go, I go.

His resolve firmed, Heizou opened the door.

The room was dark, save for a single lamp in the center room, shining down onto the autopsy table like a spotlight on the macabre: Surrounded by trays of tools and jars of herbs and chemicals, was a slab draped in a bloodstained sheet.

Next to it stood Yelan, a white smock protecting her elaborate attire and a mask over her mouth. She motioned them inside with a wave of her gloved hand, dried blood already on the fingers. Never a good sign.

"Glove up," she said, voice flat, "We haven't cleaned him yet."

Heizou swallowed thickly at the sight. At his back, Kazuha laid a hand on his shoulder, grounding and supportive as he pressed on.

"That's fine." Heizou tugged on a set of gloves from the array of gear on the worktable, then tied a kerchief around his nose and mouth. Kazuha followed suit, his hand hesitating over the jar of aromatic herb paste for a moment before plucking it up and dropping it into the pocket of his smock. He glanced back at Heizou, as though to ask for confirmation, to which Heizou nodded.

Yelan stepped aside, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Heizou wasn’t, but he’d do it anyway. He closed his eyes, tried to center himself as best as he could, and peeled back the sheet down to the neck.

As expected, beneath was a familiar face, eyes glazed and wide. A face he'd seen only hours before, filled with fear at the sight of an ally, mouth frozen open in one final gasp, or terrified scream.

"Can you identify him?" Yelan asked, a formality. She took up a clipboard, feigning interest in what notes were written already. Perhaps she didn’t want to see the body either, or maybe it was just her idea of courtesy, gifted to alleviate the pressure Heizou felt. It didn’t help, as appreciated as it was.

Kazuha answered for him, "Yes, this is Okamoto Daichi, crew member of the Crux Fleet. Citizen of Inazuma."

As they spoke, Heizou took his spot at the table and began checking for any sign of a head injury, any sign of illness, anything to explain his bizarre behavior.

He found none. The only hint of a disturbed state were dark circles around the eyes, and slightly sunken cheeks. Both could be attributed to over a week at sea.

"Any next of kin?"

This time, Heizou answered. "A wife on Yashiori Island. Residing with her family." a pause, “And a child.”

“I would appreciate your help notifying them.” Yelan scribbled something on her clipboard, but her attention was all on Heizou.

Before any other questions could be asked, Heizou continued. “Kazuha, do you smell anything off? Anything bitter, or like garlic?”

Kazuha hesitated for a second before tugging his mask down. He braced himself, then took a few, cautious sniffs at the air over Okamoto’s open mouth. Grimacing, he did his best to not jerk away in revulsion, “Nothing I wouldn’t expect from a corpse.” He reported tightly and tugged his mask up over his nose.

Heizou gave him an apologetic look while gesturing towards his smock pocket. Kazuha fished the jar of herbs out and quickly slathered some under his nose, “If your keen senses didn’t pick up anything, then we’ll need to do some kind of toxicology testing, if that’s available.”

"You suspect he was poisoned?" Yelan leaned over the corpse, seeking the lead Heizou was following.

"Altered. I—" he paused to consider his phrasing, "His behavior shortly before his death was described as erratic, so I had a hunch he was under the influence of something." With a barely suppressed shudder, Heizou carefully slid his hand under Okamoto's skull, checking for injury otherwise hidden by rigor mortis. There was nothing save for confirmation that said rigor mortis was the only thing keeping the man's head attached to the rest of him.

Yelan seemed to follow his train of thought with ease, "Nothing like you'd find in Fontaine, but there is a pharmacist in town we usually consult."

"Please do. As quickly as possible." Heizou said curtly. He could feel his pulse quickening, a distant ringing growing louder in his ears. Yet he pushed it aside, throwing all his focus into the only physical evidence he had, searching for answers.

He peeled the sheet down to the shoulders, revealing the uppermost section of the fatal wound: a gash across the neck. Deep and jagged, severing all the way into the bone and cartilage. It was enough to make Heizou wince with its severity. Right across the artery. No wonder there was so much blood. But…

Gloved fingers carefully prodded at the flesh around the wound, this injury alone would not have created as much as what was at the scene.

Heizou eyes followed the length of torn skin, down the neck to the shoulder, until it disappeared under the sheet. "The officer said there was a knife involved, but this gash wasn't sliced. It's torn…" that raised even more questions. There were a number of things that could injure someone in such a way. None were likely to be found in the middle of Liyue Harbor, let alone unnoticed.

The crime scene flashed across his mind with a whisper, faint and breathy and sharp, digging its nails into his senses. He could vividly remember the way Okamoto lay sprawled against the rocks— he was standing —and how his arm hung loose at his side— was there actually a knife I didn't see? —and the bloom of blood behind him— explosive, almost. Not quite a spray, but a splash?

The ringing grew closer, racing towards him as he struggled to keep his breaths even. Heizou shook it off as best as he could and pressed onward, his heartbeat adding cadence to the noise. Xingqiu said he did this to himself. I don't see how he could. It'd take incredible force to injure oneself like this.

He grabbed the sheet again, but hesitated.

Something isn’t right.

His intuition broke into his thoughts, sounding the alarm. Heizou froze with his hands grasping the sheet, the only thing keeping him from seeing the full extent of Okamoto’s injuries. Something was wrong, something he couldn’t identify. He knew it, he could feel it, it was all around them, watching, ready to act.

Heizou fixed his gaze on Okamoto’s face, still and cold. A grotesque statue, an homage to a tragedy. A life extinguished, unable to begin anew.

—「Do you really want to know?」—

He froze, the hairs raising on the back of his neck. That voice, he’d heard it before. It echoed his thoughts—his fears —in a voice he couldn’t place. Tones and cadence layered, heard from all sides but originated at the very center of his mind.

The same as he heard in his nightmares, waking and not. How long has it been there? Was it always there? Are they my thoughts, still?

His grip on the sheet loosened, his doubts coaxing him to surrender. Walk away. Leave the end of this man’s story for someone else to write.

No, that’s not an option.

Okamoto didn’t want to die. He couldn’t have. But he took his own life, and Heizou needed to know why. That’s why he was there, even if he knew it would destroy all his plans for the future.

He viciously shook the thought off and tightened his hold on the sheet once more. I owe it to everyone to find out why this happened.

He peeled back the sheet, bit by bit, agonizingly slow as he fought to keep his breathing consistent. Dried blood adhered the fabric to the damaged skin, pulling the scabs loose so half-congealed blood pooled at the edges. Heizou felt dizzy, he felt nauseous, but he ignored all the screaming alarms and kept his eyes locked onto the lifeless body before him.

—「You don’t need to be involved.」—

A headache bloomed at the back of his skull, coupled with a prickling chill. Heizou bit his lip to keep himself present, focused, his inner monologue countering the taunt with dwindling certainty. But I do. I do! This is my fault. I have…I need…!

Concerned words from his partner came coupled with more whispers, the ringing reverberating around his skull until it was nothing but static. The room swayed, threatening to topple around him, and the shaking ground almost knocked him off his feet. His blurred vision narrowed to only Okamoto, only the blood oozing from the wound as he pulled the sheet towards the elbow.

—「Stop.」—

I won’t.

—「Walk away.」—

I won’t.

—「Leave now and save yourself the same fate.」—

“I won’t!” Heizou shouted, and everything went silent around him. No voices, no Kazuha, no Yelan, no heartbeat, no thoughts, no air. Just his haggard breaths and the sickening cold icing through his veins. The room faded in and out of darkness, graying out at the edges and rocking violently just as the Alcor had during the storm.

His eyes focused just long enough to see someone standing at the head of the table. A figure in a pristine white dress wholly out of place in a bloodied morgue. They leaned over Okamoto, a hand cradling his cheek, the other holding his injured hand. They whispered sweetly, their features obscured by a curtain of long, dark hair. A tender scene if it were not for how Okamoto stared up at them, mouth agape with a scream that sounded miles away.

Delicate fingers dug into the exposed muscle, nails raking in the black blood and blank, sheet-white skin. A deadly caress across his raw, half-skinned arm, to his bleeding shoulder, then his torn neck, digging claws into the open wound as though trying to grasp his throat from the inside. Okamoto spasmed on the table, the scream warping into a choked gargle of blood. Robbed of his last breath by twisted hands.

Then a single, gold eye was staring at Heizou, a soft laugh echoing infinitely off the darkness.

“Disobedient children must be punished.”

“Heizou!”

Heizou’s knees buckled and dropped him unceremoniously to the ground. It was only for Kazuha’s swift rescue that he didn’t slam his head on the way down. Instead, he lay gracelessly on the floor, supported by strong arms. The fog lifted, the static silenced, and in its absence came a stunning clarity that had Heizou forcing himself to his feet again.

“Heizou!” Kazuha’s arms fastened around his waist, half holding him upright, half urging him to stay down, “Heizou, let’s stop for tonight.”

“The tattoo.”

His words were slow, slurred, but enough for Kazuha to loosen his hold. “What?”

“His tattoo.” Heizou repeated as he finally staggered to his feet. The sheet was yanked down the rest of the way, revealing the full extent of Okamoto’s fatal injury: a gash from wrist to neck, deep and jagged, but that wasn’t all. “Okamoto had a sleeve tattoo. He’d just added more to it yesterday. A design with eyes and thick lines of black ink…Either this isn’t Okamoto’s body, or his tattoo was somehow removed.”

Kazuha placed a steadying hand on Heizou’s shoulder as he too examined the damaged limb. “He removed his tattoo?” His disbelief echoed the absurdity, but the uncertainty urged Heizou onward.

“Look at the edges of the wound.” Heizou traced a hovering finger along the wound, circling the scalloping chunks sliced along the outside of the rent skin, down to the dermis, but no further. It would have been incredibly painful, likely more so than the massive gash itself. Like he was skinning himself.

With Kazuha's steadying hand still on his shoulder, Heizou turned to address the agent. “Miss Yelan, I have reason to believe the wound is to some degree self-inflicted, but I need to see the weapon to be certain.”

He didn’t expect her to believe him, but it was the only lead they had. Thankfully, Yelan wasted no time in obliging, disappearing into an adjacent room for the evidence in question.

Left to his work, Heizou slid off one glove and grabbed the clipboard Yelan had been using. The coroner had already noted the cause of death.

— Grievous injury to arm resulting in fatal blood loss.
— Contusion starting at radial artery tracking upward
— Deep laceration from tip of collarbone to carotid artery.

Heizou paused before flipping to a blank page, adding his own findings.

• Several patches of missing skin approximately 8-10cm length, curved.
• Caused by sharp implement → Knife found at scene?
• Reportedly self-inflicted → Altered state?
• Prominent tattoo noted as missing → Attempted to remove?

He grimaced at the thought. Okamoto was a stubborn man. Bullheaded, even. But even with his  history of lashing out, he’d never once sunk to the point of self-harm, and certainly not to such a degree. The level of duress he would have to be under to do that to himself was almost unfathomable. Such an injury was inflicted as a torture method.

Or a punishment.

But why would he be punished?

A faint whisper chimed in Heizou's ears, so quiet he wasn't sure if it was real or not. The dizziness that nearly sent him tumbling to the floor a moment ago threatened to overtake him again. He squeezed his eyes shut in hopes of willing it away, yet it lingered, along with the gaze he feared wasn't just Kazuha's.

What the hell is happening? Heizou braced both hands on the table and tried to get his head straight. That nightmare about Takano is one thing, but what I'm hearing… seeing now… 

It has to be a hallucination, an acute stress response. Psychological, but still logical, given what's happened recently. But...why would the symptoms manifest as a woman I've never seen, and not…

A flash of memory; the woman in white, the whispering voice pervading his mind, twisting his thoughts and the reality around him. He could imagine her voice, her face, her—

Wait, have I seen her before…?

The door suddenly swung open and Yelan waltzed back into the room, all amusement gone from her face, "I'm afraid we'll need to cut your examination short." She barely spared them a glance as she tossed her smock into the corner and started gathering the exam tools, "Grab your notes and go."

What? The urgency in her voice had Heizou's hackles raised, "What's happened?"

"Evidence is missing from lockup,” she said shortly, “as is your new fan.” her sharp gaze flicked to Heizou and her expression filled in the blanks: the knife was missing and so was the aggressive officer.

Well, that makes this more difficult.

By the time the two left Millelith Headquarters, the sky was just beginning to brighten with pre-dawn light. They descended the terrace steps in silence, Heizou keeping pace ahead of Kazuha as his mind flitted from fact to theory to memory and back. He would have rather done so in a place where he could properly sort the information, or at least write it down, but that would have to wait until they made it back to their room.

As shocked as they were to learn that key evidence and related personnel were missing in action, in hindsight, Heizou knew that was an inevitability. Between the officer’s aggression towards the witnesses and the deliberate mention of the knife, it was clear he knew more than a preliminary survey of the scene conveyed.

Thankfully, Yelan was just as suspicious of her “colleagues” as one should be given the situation. As soon as she’d ushered them out a side exit, she disappeared. Heizou presumed she was going to see to the matter personally. He wasn’t sure what that would entail for the missing officer; he knew better than to ask for details in at least this situation. Instead, he made a mental note to compliment Lady Ningguang on her choice of special agents, especially when compared to the Millelith shortcomings when it came to vetting their own soldiers.

Then again, Takano was part of the Tenryou Commission, wasn’t he?

The dots connected and Heizou felt himself tense. Similar tactics relating to “mysterious” deaths that could be ruled as homicides at first glance, but questionable after examination. Corrupt officers falsely coercing innocent men into confessing and attempting to steamroll evidence into existence. Discounting the lack of commonalities between the victims, the scenario was too similar not to have some kind of connection. And if it was, then it was likely Xingqiu and Chongyun would have been formally accused of the crime they had no way of committing. Even without a confession, their reputations would be destroyed, their lives altered forever, and they themselves would be irreparably damaged just like…

But that didn’t happen. Heizou reminded himself, We stepped in and stopped it, so history didn’t repeat. 

Keeping his arms tightly to his sides, he flipped open the small folio of notes Yelan had allowed him to take before she locked down the file room. It wasn’t a lot to go on. Not yet. But he had solved cases with less. He just needed to sort his thoughts objectively and—

“We should sleep when we get back.”

Heizou flinched. Naturally, Kazuha was keenly aware something was amiss, and it wasn’t the post-examination adrenaline letdown. He’s too damn perceptive sometimes.

He exhaled slowly and tried to coax the tension from his shoulders before replying, “I was hoping for breakfast first. Gives me time to organize my thoughts before we talk to Xingqiu.”

Kazuha’s steps came to a halt, and Heizou instantly realized his mistake. He didn’t turn around to see the stern look he was surely getting, but the words conveyed them all the same.

“I will agree with having a meal, but I am going to insist you rest before continuing your work.”

Busted. Heizou wilted. This, too, he should have seen coming. Not like I didn’t basically faint earlier…among other things… “I promise I will soon. It’s important I get everything in order while the incident is fresh in my mind. There’s a reason they bring witnesses in right away; key information can be clouded with time.”

That, and Heizou had yet to organize his own recounting of the events. Xingqiu may have witnessed Okamoto’s untimely end, but it was Heizou himself that knew what led up to it. A crucial piece of the puzzle he needed to combine with Xingqiu’s to get the whole picture. What he saw, what he could infer, the emotions intertwined with it all, all of which he needed to digest before the investigation could continue.

Heizou started walking again. Kazuha did not. 

“Heizou, what happened, exactly?” Kazuha spoke again, the firmness in his voice etched with concern. “This isn’t just because you know Okamoto, is it.” A statement of fact. As usual, Kazuha already knew half the truth. The rest he’d leave to Heizou, a measure of his trust and a prayer that he’d let him in his mind, just for a few moments, so he could understand the rest.

So he could help.

What is he going to think of me when he learns…?

Paused halfway down the stairs, Heizou spoke as he overlooked the city he’d once hoped he could belong to, "I was the reason Okamoto was at the docks.” a quiet admission, leaden with guilt.

“What do you mean?”

The incredulousness in Kazuha’s voice was tinted with something else. Suspicion? Disbelief? Anger? Heizou was too wrung out to decipher it. He could only hope he’d feel less like a criminal after confessing. "He was armed, and injured, but when I asked if he needed help, he fled. And… I went after him."

“That’s how you ended up on the opposite end of the harbor…” A soft revelation, just enough to urge him on.

Heizou nodded and tucked the file against his chest again, “I thought whatever he got himself mixed up in, if I could just get him to the Alcor, I…” he turned halfway to face Kazuha, yet was still too afraid to meet his gaze. Too afraid to know what Kazuha would think of him once he learned how much he influenced this case before it even began.

He felt Kazuha edge closer, a courteous distance still between them. “What was he running from?”

“That’s just it! I don’t know!” Despite his attempts to stay level, the high emotions and exhaustion were rapidly overtaking his rationale.  “Kazuha…something was wrong with him, and I need to know what. The way he looked at me…” the words caught in his throat, held in place by the emotions he wouldn’t allow through. How could he explain to Kazuha how terrified Okamoto looked when he approached him? How he begged to be left alone, for it to be anyone but Heizou coming to his aid? The way he ran like a man possessed, as though he was facing execution if caught?

What was going through his head when that knife carved into his skin?

Unable to shake the thought, Heizou pushed onward. “Okamoto would not have killed himself under normal circumstances. Xingqiu is the sole witness to his final moments. I won’t be able to rest until I know what happened.” and if I really, truly ended his life.

The sun was inching closer to the horizon, steadily warming the morning air. Yet Heizou felt cold, numb, brittle, burdened by a guilt he could not shake. A heaviness that spread a bone-deep ache from his chest to his limbs, weighing him down with the what-ifs and the critical accusations from himself and others. He wanted to scream, to declare that he only meant well. He cared about Okamoto just like he cared about all the ex-convicts that pledged to right their paths. If he’d known what was going through his head, he could have approached him differently. What he could have done differently. If the man’s punishment truly matched the crime, or if there even was one.

It doesn’t matter now, Heizou’s jaw quivered, whatever future he had is gone. And I… He could feel his own thoughts on the edge, overlooking a downward spiral he didn’t think he could navigate. His own path muddied, twisted, stained in the blood of people who didn’t need to die.

“Heizou…” Suddenly, Kazuha was next to him, concern bright in his eyes as he searched Heizou’s expression, trying to delve into the emotions Heizou was fighting so desperately to control. Teetering on the rocks, the tide waiting to swallow him whole. It was terrifying, staring it all down on his own.

Then, he remembered Kazuha’s words, you don’t have to do this alone.

He didn’t, but not only that. He couldn’t. If this was truly the path he needed to take, then he needed a guide, a kind hand, a partner. He knew that now. Even if he wouldn't accept in the end, if he could just—

Before he risked Kazuha pulling away, Heizou caught his hand with lightning speed and grasped it tight. Shoulders hunched, face hidden by messy locks, Heizou found his voice, broken and shaky as it may be. “Please, just…” He pleaded, a trembling in his words to match his body, “Like this, just for a bit?” Just a little strength. Just long enough to feel like I won’t drown again.

Without a word, lithe, callused fingers tightened around his own. The touch set his hair on end and pulled a shuddering breath of relief from his lips. He’d grown used to it, the way it would anchor him to the rest of the world, to Kazuha, to the life he still wished to pursue. A thumb brushed across his scarred knuckles, acknowledgement of how hard he fought to stay afloat, how he survived even on days he could barely tread water. It was almost enough. Almost.

Then, all at once, he was tugged forward, nearly costing him his balance, and wrapped into Kazuha’s arms. Heizou gasped, shoulders stiffening in his firm grip, eyes wide with surprise. Yet despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He could only question why and how he deserved such relief.

The answer shattered what little resolve he had left. “It’s not your fault.” Kazuha's voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was enough to drive out all other thoughts. Negative, positive, in-between, leaving just that moment and the comfort he had refused himself. 

The soft truths drowned out the lies he told himself, deafened further each time Kazuha repeated them. It’s not your fault. No one blames you. We can figure this out. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.

Tears long held at bay slipped down his cheeks, any protests choked down in favor of steadily growing sobs. Heizou clutched Kazuha’s back, melting into the full-body embrace as his limbs gave up the fight against the pain of new lives cut short. This. This was what he needed. To feel understood and supported. Protected when he was most vulnerable. Safety found only in this man’s arms.

As the sun rose to start another day, Heizou allowed himself to grieve.

Chapter Text

It was only mid-afternoon when Heizou arrived at Millelith headquarters. As exhausted as he was after the ordeal of the previous day, he’d managed only a handful of fitful hours of rest before he gave up and set to work on his notes. He was worn, mentally and physically, still teetering on the cusp of the lingering ailment he had been fighting since before they made land. It must have shown, for even the innkeeper had all but forced a tray of tea and porridge on him as they settled in that morning. If she'd heard what happened at the boardwalk, she didn't let on, to which Heizou was grateful.

The soldiers were a different story; as he approached, they exchanged furtive glances and hushed questions, trying to act as though it weren't painfully obvious who they were looking at. One could imagine the rumors circulating their ranks: rogue Inazuman kicks down a door during an interrogation, gets recruited instead of arraigned. A plot point out of a spy thriller that Heizou was both intrigued and wary to take part in.

All of which could be pondered later. He had a job to do, answers to find, and an eyewitness to kick things off.

Moments after he and Kazuha finished setting up the meeting room, in walked Xingqiu, who held his head level as he greeted the guard just outside the room. Heizou hadn't done much reading on Xingqiu before their meeting, but his previous assessment of him had been spot-on: the second son of a prominent family in Liyue, his noble lineage holding him to high standards that he could meet when it suited him. His mischievousness was also something of an open secret, which Heizou assumed was a driving factor behind Xinqiu's apprehension in this case.

A solid facade, one Heizou easily saw past. It was clear that the young man was making a concerted effort not to look nervous to be back for another “interview.”

Which was why Heizou had suggested the unorthodox addition of Chongyun to their meeting. The boy was a fair bit more timid than Heizou initially assessed, but eager to help, especially when it came to his friend. The hope was his presence would not only help keep Xingqiu grounded, but also possibly help fill in the blanks that his testimony was sure to leave. After all, there must have been a reason Xingqiu had sought him, and Heizou had a feeling it wasn’t just because they were close.

“Thank you both for meeting with us,” Heizou said with a practiced, disarming smile. “And taking the time out of your day to assist with this investigation.” Formalities first, at least until they were alone. They both had images to keep, after all, even if Heizou's was a bit more stained.

“Yes, of course.” He smiled reassuringly in return, a hand pressed to his chest as he gave a slight bow. “I am grateful you are willing to hear our side, and I am eager to offer my assistance.”

Heizou mimicked the bow, then motioned for the guard to close the door. Once the latch clicked, Xingqiu allowed the mask to drop. “You didn't tell me you were an officer.” He spoke quickly, sheepish with a touch of anxiety, as though he wasn't sure if the man who had helped him just hours before could still be trusted. Heizou could hardly blame him considering what he'd just gone through.

“ Former officer, in Inazuma.” He extended a hand not for the sake of image, but to establish even ground. “Shikanoin Heizou, I'm a detective helping with this investigation.”

There was a glimmer of recognition in Xingqiu's eyes at the name, and Heizou had to withhold a wince. Was it that he knew the name from his exploits overseas, or just his status as a detective? Either way, the hand was accepted, and some of the tension in Xingqiu's shoulders eased. “A pleasure, Mr. Shikanoin.”

Heizou quickly shook his head. “Just Heizou is fine, if it's all the same to you.” 

“Heizou it is, then.” Xingqiu smiled, then turned to offer the same hand to Kazuha, who, until then, had remained quiet while Heizou worked. “And you are Kaedehara Kazuha. I've heard much of you from Chongyun.”

Seemingly surprised to be addressed, Kazuha hesitated a split second before accepting the hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and good to see you again, Chongyun.”

Chongyun smiled back, though it was strained. Judging by the dark circles, he had probably slept as much as Xingqiu had, which was markedly less than Heizou himself. “Likewise. Sorry again for…uh…” He made a vague gesture that Heizou assumed was supposed to be a headlock as the apples of his cheeks flushed. 

Kazuha shook his head with a knowing smile. “I think we were both a little heated at the time. Water under the bridge.”

The young man deflated a little in his seat in relief. Xingqiu barely contained a snicker.

Cute.  

With a glance between the younger men, Heizou continued, “Kazuha is my partner and will also be assisting with the investigation.” The statement was out of his mouth before he'd fully considered the implication. To anyone else, it would be cut and dry; what detective didn't have a partner? But to the pair in front of him, the ambiguity could be a point for curiosity as much as camaraderie. Another play to his advantage that he was certain Kazuha would pick up on with ease.

Heizou flipped open his notebook and cleared his throat. “Let’s just get right into it.” He opened his notebook to the questions he'd jotted down over lunch before heading to the station. Blanks to fill in after he heard the tale. “As of right now, you are the sole witness to Okamoto Daichi’s death. Your testimony is imperative to this investigation, so please give as much detail as you can.“

Xingqiu's expression fell, fading from cordial to avoidant, almost haunted. He opened his mouth, paused, and lowered his head. “I'm afraid my testimony may not be of much use.”

He seemed to clam up again, fidgeting nervously beneath the table. Heizou couldn't blame him, though it would make his job much harder if he wasn’t able to get Xingqiu relaxed enough to actually speak. He drew upon what knowledge he had of the young man so far—not his reputation, but of him, directly.

“You're worried I won't believe you.” Heizou spoke softly, resting his elbows on the table, “I know. The whole scenario feels like something out of a book, doesn't it? Even the crime scene was way beyond what's been in the novels I've read.” He leaned closer, his voice quieter, almost gentle. “But I was there. I know you didn't do this, and I know whatever happened wasn't normal.”

“I…” Xingqiu glanced at the door, as though wondering if anyone was listening in. A beat passed before he shook his head. “No… it was not at all normal, and I am admittedly unsure what I saw…” His smile faded.

Heizou nodded along. “If you’re unsure, just describing what you saw helps. As much detail as you can give.”

Xingqiu grimaced. At his left, Chongyun shifted, and Heizou briefly wondered if he'd taken his hand. A little encouragement, borrowed bravery. Xingqiu swallowed thickly before continuing, “I had been reading as I walked to the docks, intent to meet with Chongyun, when that man ran into me. Quite literally. He very nearly knocked me over in his rush.”

So far, pretty normal. Heizou made a quick note, “Did he say anything to you?”

“Not to me, no.” Xingqiu continued, “I thought perhaps it was my mistake, and went to apologize. But he ran under the boardwalk without so much as slowing down.”

Heizou jotted the response into his notes and tried not to tense at that detail. “What condition was he in? His behavior?”

Xingqiu seemed to grow more nervous at the line of questioning. “He was… acting erratic. Talking to himself, o-or someone else? I can only speculate—”

“Tell me your speculations.” Heizou interjected. “Anything that stuck out to you. What do you think happened?”

“Heizou, do you believe in ghosts?” He blurted out, taking Heizou by surprise. That… wasn’t the speculation he expected. The question struck a chord with him. Ghosts, spirits, hauntings… of course he believed in them. Not even for his homeland’s culture of paranormal superstition, but from his own eyes, his own experiences. The people he’d failed, the ones he couldn’t save, their grudges…

The look on Okamoto’s face…

“Yeah, I do.”

“I think he was possessed.” Xingqiu closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, as though centering himself before speaking. “The way he moved, it was unnatural. It looked as though he wasn't in control of himself. And how he was speaking —arguing— with himself.” Xingqiu’s head snapped back to Chongyun, looking for more confirmation in his grim expression. Chongyun gave a solemn nod in return, “When I described it, Chongyun came to the same conclusion.”

Kazuha leaned into the conversation, “Chongyun is from a clan of exorcists, isn’t he?”

That alone confirmed one of Heizou's theories: Xingqiu had sought Chongyun not just for personal comfort, but because of his apparent spiritual abilities. Heizou thought back to his last interaction with Okamoto; he clearly hadn’t been in his right mind, leading Heizou to believe he was under the influence of something. But that doesn’t explain what I heard… What I’ve been hearing.

Heizou quashed his own speculation down and pressed onward. Clarity, logic, focus. Gather evidence first, then go to the board from there. “That's… admittedly a leap. Can you elaborate? Aside from his movements and speech, was there something else?”

Xingqiu fell quiet, his shoulders trembling as he fought for words in his normally verbose vocabulary. “He…” He began weakly, noticeably more pale than before.

“It’s okay, Xingqiu.” Chongyun ran a hand along Xingqiu’s back. “Just tell him what you saw. They’re here to help.”

Again, Xingqiu shook his head. “No, I…The next part, I’m still not even sure I saw correctly. It didn’t feel real . But when the officer mentioned the knife, I thought…” He swallowed roughly, squeezing his eyes shut.

The knife.

The missing knife.

Heizou’s mind kicked into overdrive, replaying the scene of horrific wounds and terror-filled faces. What Xingqiu saw, that would give him the answer. It felt like leading a witness, but… “What did he do next?”

Xingqiu went silent, eyes glued to the table. Chongyun's hand came to rest on his shoulder, a soft squeeze of reassurance. Seeing how effortlessly they touched and the comfort it gave them made Heizou's heart ache, both in empathy and envy.

Steeled thanks to his companion, Xingqiu extended an arm across the table, wrist upward and fist clenched. “He…started to…” With his free hand, he mimed running something up his arm. “…with the knife.”

Heizou sat up straighter, watching Xingqiu repeat the motion. Starting at his wrist, scraping around his arm and upward in haphazard sweeps. Like someone desperate for relief, or release. 

The dots began to connect. “Was this the arm with the tattoo?”

A nod, his limbs starting to shake, “Yes. It looked like he was trying to scrape it off, piece by piece. Until…his arm burst.”

What? “Burst?” Heizou couldn't help the shock in his tone. “How exactly—”

“I don't know how!” Xingqiu’s voice broke as he shouted, letting the words tumble from his mouth without decorum, desperate to get through his explanation, “He was carving at his skin, mumbling as he bled all over the boardwalk, and then instead of blood it was ink. Black ink! Then his skin split open all the way up to his shoulder, and this thick smoke just billowed out. But it didn't move right. It was like ink in water rising. And then it disappeared, and there was just blood...”

A chill ran up Heizou’s spine. Such a horrific tale to match the horrific wounds, more grisly than Heizou had heard in a long time. But it was the mention of black ink that set him on edge again. He wandered out on a limb, trying to keep the uneasiness from his voice. “You think that black ink killed him.”

“Not just the ink. A curse. It was only for a split second, but I felt it—rage, malice, condemnation, a sadistic joy. But none of it came from that man. It didn't even feel human.”

A curse, ink-like smoke, cutting away his tattoo…It was no wonder Xingqiu thought he wouldn’t be believed. It was fantastical, grotesque, and yet it fit too well into the puzzle pieces Heizou had already unearthed. There was no way the boy could describe the way Okamoto cut himself in such detail without having witnessed it himself. The question raised now was why he would do it.

Across the table, Chongyun was rubbing Xingqiu’s arms, who was desperately trying to compose himself. He’s at his limit. But… I need to know…

“Xingqiu, you said he was talking to himself… could you make out anything?”

Chongyun glanced pleadingly Heizou’s way, his encouragement waning into concern for his companion’s mental wellbeing. If Xingqiu caught it, he didn’t let on, and simply nodded as he stared off into the middle distance, “He begged for forgiveness, and more time…” He pressed two fingers to his temple with a slight wince. A headache, perhaps from the stress of it all. “I think at the end he said a name?”

“A name?” Heizou felt his heart beating in his throat. A name. Mine? His? Who’s?

“Fuyuko.”

His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. “Fuyuko?”

“Yes.” Xingqiu lifted his head and addressed the investigators with weary eyes. “Yes, at the end, he said forgive me, Fuyuko.”

It was like someone grabbed a handful of his puzzle pieces and threw it across the table, taking his theories with them. Black ink had seeped into the jigsawed edges, muddying what Heizou thought was their rightful place. Blurred by the haze of the visions his mind so wretchedly gifted him. Yet one thing remained clear: those final words, the name he called. It was proof that, despite what the crooked officer claimed, Xingqiu had absolutely nothing to do with Okamoto’s death.

“Let’s stop here for today.” Heizou snapped his notebook shut and set it to the side. Pushing any further would only cause more distress for everyone involved. That, and he had the answer he needed. “You have gone through something truly harrowing, so I must again thank you for regaling your experience for the sake of our investigation.” Back to the formalities, the forced pleasantries to create the distance needed to ground himself. Just another part of the job— detaching. I need to detach. “Please take some time to get your bearings. I may call on you later, should I have more questions.” 

Xingqiu opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to insist he could continue, but Chongyun cut him off. “Thank you, Detective.” The terseness in his voice proclaimed the end of their conversation. It quickly gave way to relief as he slipped from his chair to kneel at Xingqiu’s side, taking his hands and speaking in hushed tones. Once again, Heizou felt a pang of envy at the scene. Two young lovers, solace shared when they needed it most. It felt like a crime itself to impose any further.

Heizou slipped into the corridor, making it as far as a connecting hall before stopping to collect his racing thoughts. Despite the many testimonies he’d taken in all his years of investigating, this was one of the few that had truly unnerved him from the sheer violence of it all. A truly brutal end for a man that Heizou wholeheartedly believed didn’t deserve it.

And in the end, he begged his wife for forgiveness.

A moment later, Kazuha joined him, leaning against the wall at his side. He said nothing, just waited silently, allowing Heizou his breathing room. Just having him there was almost enough to make him want to lean in, seek solace, just as Xingqiu had from Chongyun.

He couldn’t allow himself to do that. Not after he’d finally confirmed the first of his theories:

“Okamoto didn’t want to die.” The first conclusion. Between their conversation the day before his death and his final words, Heizou was certain of that. Xingqiu’s testimony confirmed that the wounds were indeed self-inflicted, but why? For what reason would a father-to-be, so eager to return home to his wife and newborn, suddenly turn the blade on himself? What had he seen in those final moments?

Kazuha shifted next to him, inching closer. Heizou pretended not to delight in that. “Do you think he was cursed?”

Heizou sighed and pressed a palm to one of his eyes in an attempt to stave off the oncoming headache. “At bare minimum, he was hallucinating based off of how he…” spoke to me, Heizou finished silently. Hallucinating. He had to be hallucinating. It wasn’t that he feared me, specifically… right? He didn’t hurt himself because of…

… Archons, how did I ever think I could detach myself from this?

Heizou flipped open his notebook to write in the missing notes. Curses, ink-like smoke, violent hallucinations… “If we were in Inazuma, I would suspect he’d been affected by the tatarigami, but there was no way he’d have lasted as long as he had on the ship if that was the case.”

“That’s true. And once removed from the area, those influenced by it eventually recover.” Kazuha followed along the line of Heizou’s thoughts with ease, “Something similar, then?”

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t explain the way the officer behaved.” It would make sense for a corrupt officer to push for a false confession if he had a personal stake in the conviction—like hiding his involvement—but it was clear that Okamoto mutilated himself with the knife. What would be the purpose of pegging a public suicide as murder, and why push so hard for Xingqiu to take the fall?

The knife, Heizou realized, Okamoto had it when I ran into him, and that officer escaped with it. Could that be the cause? A cursed weapon wasn’t unheard of—especially where he was from—and more solid than just ghosts or a possession. But what about the tattoo? Why try to remove it? He’d just gotten more added to it. The thought jumped to a different theory, dragging a red string with it. Would there have been hallucinogens in the ink? But that doesn’t explain—

Heizou deflated with a sigh. The more he thought about it, the messier things became. Xingqiu’s testimony raised just as many questions as it answered, leaving loose ends instead of connected dots. And that was before he factored in his own experience and the events leading up to Okamoto’s death.

What would have happened if I’d caught up to him before he hurt himself? If I hadn’t gotten distracted?

Heizou bit back a wince, a twinge of a headache as a reminder of the other facet of the investigation. The one he’d yet to divulge to his partner: what had happened in the autopsy room— no, even before that.  

The voice in his head, taunting, warning, making him question everything. The way it pulled his attention away as he tried to save Okamoto from himself. The apparition that stood over his corpse, tormenting the man in death, torturing his very spirit. Inhumanly gold eyes, digging claws into Okamoto’s wounds, the black ink pouring out, staining the sheet, the floor—

The same ink seeped into his nightmares, in waking as much as sleep.

“Disobedient children must be punished…” Heizou muttered under his breath, ignoring the spark of pain in his temple that followed.

Kazuha quirked a brow, “Disobedient…?”

Heizou snapped his notebook shut and pushed away from the wall. When his eyes met Kazuha’s, they were alight with what they both thought was washed away with his badge, brought to life by his glowing intuition.

“I have a lead.” Heizou said resolutely, “Come with me. We need to check those missing children’s cases.”

“We'll start here.” Heizou tapped an area of the map just north of Liyue Harbor. Next to it was a photo of one of the children, along with a list of persons of interest hastily written on a slip of paper. “Once I have the info I need, we'll move on from there.”

“Do you intend to re-interview all the families?” Yelan asked, eyeing Heizou curiously as he perched atop a stool.

“Not quite.” Heizou tapped the notes pinned to the map with his pen. “Follow-up questions. Like why they waited over a week to report their child missing.”

Yelan crossed her arms as she surveyed Heizou's work on the board. “He was treated as a runaway during the report. They claimed he had a history.”

“But you are not convinced that's the case.” Heizou pointed to the next destination, marked with a photo of a young girl and more notes, “Because this family believes their daughter was snatched by a man in a neighboring village she had befriended. He was later cleared.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose inquisitively. “And that’s how you connected them?”

“To an extent.” Heizou tucked his pen and notebook into his waistband and jumped down from the stool, the amber brocade fluttering behind him. It'd taken all of an hour of work before he needed to undo the knot buttons of his new jacket, and only half that before he'd shrugged out of it completely with a silent apology to the seamstress. In hindsight, he should have mentioned how sensitive he was to heat, or considered his habit of breaking uniform while at the Tenryou Commission when selecting the design.

For now, it hung around his waist as he flitted from point to point, filed away as a later problem. He had more important things to do.

Heizou jumped onto another stool and dragged the red yarn from the young girl to the twin boys. “These two were pranksters, according to the neighbors. The parents gave no such indication. That warrants a second look.”

Yelan picked up a stack of fresh notes and began to flip through them, “This is an impressive amount of work in only a day.”

“I would like to thank your subordinates. Their notes were very thorough.” Far more thorough than the Millelith investigators . There was a sense of vindication in that knowledge, as well as frustration. If he’d been allowed to investigate properly in Inazuma, perhaps he would have had enough information on the victims to get somewhere. Instead, he’d been forced to pour over information that, now that he was looking at the bigger picture, had likely either been tampered with or omitted altogether.

It was of little comfort now, but he hoped bringing the Liyue cases to some kind of resolution would help him do the same for the children in Inazuma.

“I must ask,” Yelan set the stack of notes back onto the table, bracing a hand atop them, “how you concluded the children's behavioral concerns were the connection?”

Heizou paused in front of the board, his mind racing in a new direction. He had yet to think of a way to explain how he got from Okamoto’s death to the children’s cases. It wasn’t clairvoyance, he knew for sure, and claiming it as such would make him sound like a fraud when he was already on shaky ground in his new position.

But how else would he explain what he saw in the morgue, or any of the strange and unsettling things he’d been seeing? Or the violent dreams he’d been having? The voices in his head? The hallucinations? Would anyone believe him, or chalk it up to trauma? What if that's all it was? What if the mental leaps were just his brain trying to heal from all the fucked-up experiences he’d had in the last few weeks? What if he was just imagining the connections, creating false leads in his head? What if he was going down a rabbit hole that he wouldn’t be able to dig himself out of? What if—

“Intuition.” Heizou was startled out of his spiral by a single word. He whirled around to see Kazuha, his rucksack slung over his shoulder and a confident smile on his face. “Surely, you’re aware of his reputation, given you looked into him so closely, Miss Yelan.” He cast the grin up to Heizou, a glint in his eye. A testament of his trust in his partner.

Always having my back. Heizou huffed and dropped from his perch, “Precisely that. And once I fill in the blanks, I’ll have our answers.” And the children home safely. That’s what he would believe. There was no room for despair, not with four—no, seven —lives at stake.

Seemingly satisfied with their answer, Yelan handed the notes back to Heizou, “When do you start?”

“As soon as we’re done talking.” Heizou accepted the notes, rolled them, and slipped them into a document tube for safekeeping. He wouldn’t make the mistake of relying on waterproof ink this time. “With your blessing.” He tacked onto the end, just to assure the woman that he intended to play within the rules, at least for now.

“Well, then.” In a motion almost too fast for even Heizou to track, Yelan procured a small, yellow slip of parchment. While he couldn’t make out the calligraphy, he recognized the seal as being related to the Tianquan. “You may use this as proof of your status as an official investigator acting under orders. It should get you in the door almost anywhere, but try not to abuse it.” She warned with an almost flippant gesture, but her smile was genuine. While Heizou was hesitant to think he had her full trust, he was grateful for the chance to earn it.

The slip of paper was accepted and tucked carefully into his interior shirt pocket. “Thank you, Yelan. I’ll send word if I find anything.”

“As will I.” While she didn’t say it out loud, the soft look in her eyes spoke volumes. An earnest request: bring those kids home.

Heizou intended to do just that. No matter what it took.

“So, where to first?” Kazuha unfurled the map across the stone flooring they'd claimed as their lunch table. A busy day at the market meant more people occupying the restaurants and stalls, leaving little space for the two of them to plan their next move. But that also left far fewer patrons to admire the scenery of Yujing Terrace, so that’s where they set up. Kazuha had only stopped in at the Alcor long enough to grab a few things from Beidou while Heizou took care of gathering provisions. Now all that was left was to finish their meal, which was about as long as Heizou was willing to wait. A combination of case-fueled adrenaline and a (mostly) full night’s rest had left him antsy to get moving. Thankfully, Kazuha seemed to understand, itching to get on the road himself. A nice combo: a man on a mission and one eager to wander. 

Heizou set aside his boxed lunch and leaned over the map, “Here, the village of the first victim.” He pointed to an area of the map just north of Liyue Harbor. It looked to be near the border between the Sea of Clouds and Qiongji Estuary, which Heizou was, admittedly, not at all familiar with. But Kazuha would be, and that was all that mattered. “If we leave soon, we can stay the night at the inn, and investigate in the morning.”

Kazuha quickly examined the path outlined on the parchment. “That will have us keeping pace for most of the afternoon. Are you certain you’re up for that?” It was a question born of concern, Heizou knew. Yet he could not help but feel a little patronized. Sure, he played into the feeble detective facade, but Kazuha knew him better than that. He was no slouch when it came to field work and more than fit to travel, even with the weeks without practice.

Instead of protesting, Heizou just sighed. It’s a valid concern, Heizou reminded himself. I have not been well, so of course he’s worried. In an attempt to reassure him, Heizou leaned over and bumped Kazuha’s shoulder. “I am. And if that changes, I will speak up. Promise.”

That seemed to take a bit of tension out of Kazuha’s expression and he bumped Heizou’s shoulder in return. “I trust that you will.” He went quiet then, only idly picking at his lunch as his attention seemed to drift elsewhere. Was he really that worried, or was there something else he needed to address?

After another moment of silence, Kazuha finally spoke, “Actually,” He set his half-eaten lunch aside and rotated on his knees to face Heizou. “Before we go, I have something for you.”

Heizou tilted his head, perplexed, and set his lunch down as well. Sincerity with a hint of uncertainty, a subtle drop in confidence. Things he wasn’t used to seeing from his normally surefooted companion. Rare as it was, it implied that whatever Kazuha had in store for him was no simple gift. In an attempt to ease his apparent apprehension, Heizou shifted on his knees to face him, a casual smile on his face. “Hm? A surprise? What’s the occasion?”

Kazuha shook his head, “No occasion, just… A gift. For you.” He locked eyes with Heizou, as though willing him not to dart off before letting go of his hand, “Turn around, and close your eyes, please.”

Heizou found himself obeying without much thought. Strange, the power this man had over him. How easily his words could sway him, now that he was allowing himself to truly listen. Was it like this for everyone, or just him? “What’s this about?” he asked, a nervous chuckle sneaking into his voice while he fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket.

“You’ll see.” Kazuha said quietly near his ear, close enough that Heizou had to suppress a shiver. “I’m going to touch your hair, okay?”

My hair? Heizou nodded, not entirely trusting his voice at the moment. He sat stock still as Kazuha’s deft hands carded through his hair, separating and twisting strands in a way both practiced yet unpolished. The sensation of something cool and smooth ghosted against his shoulders before being twisted into the longest part of his hair. His thick locks were lifted midway up his scalp, exposing his nape to the chilly mountain breeze. This time, he couldn’t keep the shiver from his shoulders, drawing a soft chuckle from Kazuha’s lips as the final piece slid into place.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Heizou blinked and immediately reached to the back of his head, finding his hair twisted into a simple updo, held in place by two thin pieces of lacquered wood. “Hair sticks?” He asked, unable to hide his perplexity. Without prompting, he leaned over the edge of the pond, examining his new hairstyle as best he could without a mirror. He could make out the color—a warm orange that faded into amber at the head—with a simple design towards the upper ends. Heizou reached to the tips, and found a small string of beads with what he realized must have been a maple leaf-shaped charm dangling at the end.

“The color matches your jacket.” Kazuha added, the confidence slowly returning the longer he watched Heizou admiring his work. “What do you think?”

It was easy enough to connect the dots from there, “Is this what you went back for the day we commissioned my clothes?”

Kazuha nodded, scooting closer to rest a gentle hand at the small of his back. In the water’s reflection, he could see the reverent smile on his face, gazing not at his reflection, but Heizou himself.

One had to wonder who else had seen such an expression on Kazuha's face. Secretly, Heizou hoped it was only him.

Finally, Heizou looked up from the pond to meet Kazuha’s gaze, “They’re beautiful.” He said with a warm smile of his own, “Thank you, Kazuha. You’ll have to show me how to properly use them.”

Finally, Kazuha chuckled, seemingly back to his usual self, “With pleasure.”

They stayed like that for a moment, crouched at the edge of the pond, the breeze fluttering the loose strands of Heizou’s hair along with the beaded charm. For a moment, Heizou wondered if it looked like the autumn leaves Kazuha so adored. A thoughtful gift, a piece of Kazuha to keep with him. A part of him that wouldn’t disappear with the wind.

Hushed whispers pulled Heizou out of his thoughts and back to a less pleasant reality. A few women nearby quickly looked away, giggling amongst themselves. A blush quickly crossed Heizou’s cheeks. It was just a gift of hair sticks. It couldn’t have been that much of a scene, could it? Yet they’d clearly caught some attention…

As though sensing his discomfort, Kazuha cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “We should head out soon. We have a long walk ahead of us.” He offered a hand to Heizou, saying nothing else on the matter.

It was only for as long as it took to stand, but Heizou could see a hint of disappointment in Kazuha’s eyes. Something left unsaid, still hanging between them. Why is that?  

I’ll ask later, Heizou concluded, when we’re alone.

“Then let’s get going, partner.” Heizou quickly shoved the rest of his lunch into his mouth and headed back towards the terrace entrance.

Even with the severity of the case, it was difficult to hide his excitement as they approached their starting point. For weeks, he fretted over his future. If he’d be able to pursue his passion again, or if his damaged reputation and confidence would drown him. But before he could lose all hope, the opportunity to turn a tragedy into a miracle had been handed to him, and he was determined to prove his worth once more.

Before he could step over the threshold of his next journey, he was stopped by a shout and a rush of footsteps.

“Wait!” a familiar voice called. Heizou turned and to his surprise, two young men were dashing up the path after them, their packs in tow.

Oh, no.

“Xingqiu, Chongyun—” Heizou tried not to look too surprised at their presence. Based on what they carried, they’d come to do one of two things: see them off with supplies, or…

“Please take us with you!” Chongyun spoke faster than Heizou could finish the thought. There was a bit of color to his cheeks to match the fire behind his eyes. Determination that Heizou was well acquainted with.

“We discussed it after our meeting, and Chongyun and I believe we can assist in this investigation.” Xingqiu rattled out his explanation with equal enthusiasm. It was not unlike the trainee officers who had approached him to help with previous cases. The same sort he declined.

Heizou’s first thought was to decline here as well, and firmly at that. A high-stakes investigation had little room for error. He could assess the risks he took, and Kazuha could think critically on his own. But these two, he wasn’t so sure. Not only that, but the danger they’d likely face would make the two of them a liability. Chongyun at least had some level of battle prowess, and Xingqiu appeared to have brought a sword along, but did he know how to use it?

The last thing he wanted was for anyone else to get hurt under his watch, especially these two, who had already been swept up in unfortunate events left in Heizou’s wake.

Best to start with the facts. “As much as I appreciate the offer, we’re working on a different case right now.”

“But you believe they are connected, correct? You wouldn’t be so quick to leave for another case otherwise.”

Heizou had to consciously keep his brow from twitching. To call his bluff and make that connection was impressive for someone without full knowledge of the cases. Even more so if he was only operating under assumptions inspired by the novels he’d read. Perhaps too many novels…

Then again, that was how I started, wasn’t it?

…

May as well hear them out.

“Assuming we are, why would you want to? After what happened, surely you understand the danger we could be facing.” Examining their motives, assure they were informed before making their decision. The first test.

Surprisingly, Xingqiu didn’t waver. “It’s precisely because of what happened that I want to assist.” He pressed a hand to his chest with a resolute nod, “After our meeting, Chongyun and I went through the details again, and we have a theory as to what was afflicting Okamoto.”

That had Heizou’s eyes widening. If the cases truly were connected, knowing what happened to Okamoto could fill in the blanks he needed to progress the missing children’s cases. That is, if that voice was to be believed. Even if they weren’t related, it could bring him one step closer to closing a case. “What is your theory?”

Chongyun stepped up, “Just based on how it looked and felt, we thought it might be similar to karmic debt.”

“Karmic debt?” Heizou pressed a hand to his chin in thought. He hadn’t heard of the malady before. He could assume it was something supernatural just based on the name and how it was described. Useful for his personal arsenal of knowledge. But without further info, it was a toss-up if any of it would prove useful to the case itself.

With how confident they are of this theory, it might be worth looking into.

Heizou shook his head, “It won’t be an easy venture, nor short.” he continued, “And undoubtedly dangerous, given what little we know.”

“We know,” interjected Chongyun, “If it’s anything like Xingqiu described, then it’s something my clan would handle. And Xingqiu is more than capable of holding his own.” Although subtle, Heizou noted how Xingqiu rested his hand atop the sword on his hips. Ornate as the scabbard was, the hilt and pommel showed signs of wear that had been buffed out. Perhaps he knows how to use it after all.

“Heizou.” Xingqiu stepped forward and implored once more, “I won’t deny that my want for answers plays a part in this, but just knowing that whomever or whatever is responsible for these crimes has yet to be brought to justice has spurred me to seek the truth. Please allow us to aid in finding it.”

The two didn’t budge, unwavering in their resolve. Heizou had the feeling that even if they were to turn them down, the two of them would leave on their own venture in search of the culprit. One that could potentially end disastrously. Xingqiu had escaped the boiler and was now willingly skirting the edge of the fire. What an unfortunate trait for us to share.

Torn, Heizou turned to Kazuha, “What do you think?”

His question was met with a half-shrug, “Their knowledge could prove useful. Perhaps they could join us for the first leg of the trip?”

“A trial run.” A fair suggestion, one that would allow Heizou more time to size up the two before carrying on to the next village. Who knows, maybe having them along can help turn things around.  

Heizou mulled the option over a moment longer before finally addressing the two would-be junior detectives. “Well, since it looks like you two are already packed, let’s get going. You can elaborate on your theories on the way.”

Chapter Text

Karmic Debt.

They spoke of it like a curse, a corruption of both mind and body. Ages of hatred, anger, grief, regret, coalescing into a physical manifestation of darkness, a weight that the living must carry. It was said to appear as a black mist emanating from the unfortunate soul as they slowly lost themselves to madness, leaving only a rabid beast in its wake.

No cure, only a swift end as a mercy.

It was, as far as theories go, as plausible as any considering what they'd witnessed. But even with the physical description, Heizou had his doubts about Xingqiu and Chongyun’s Karmic Debt theory. And so Heizou found himself on the veranda outside the inn as the overcast sky steadily lightened, once again poring over his notes for any clue as to how Okamoto came to his end. How to solidify its involvement with the cases tucked into his satchel.

They were to head to the next village once they finished their breakfast to allow themselves ample time to conduct their investigation before nightfall. He needed to sort his jumbled theories into questions before they arrived. That was proving more difficult than he’d like.

The shuffling of sandals against the wooden deck outside the inn alerted him to company. “Mora for your thoughts?” A tray with a covered ceramic dish and a steaming cup of tea was set next to him, courtesy of Kazuha. The cup of tea was handed to him, accompanied by an empathetic smile.

With a tired smile in return and quiet thanks, Heizou accepted the cup before returning his attention to the notebook balanced on his knee. “I’m having trouble seeing it,” he muttered over his cup, “this angle.”

“Xingqiu's?”

Heizou nodded. “I'll be honest, his theory would hold more water if Okamoto was a better criminal.” He took a sip of his tea as he thumbed through his notebook. “Okamoto was an ex-convict, sure, but he wasn't a violent man. Aside from a drunken scuffle with an officer, his crimes were petty theft and smuggling.” Which, Heizou would note, was almost a necessity when one considered the commercial bottleneck that plagued their country until recently. It was part of the reason Heizou had obliged Fuyuko's pleas for lighter sentences; Okamoto was a struggling man with unfortunate circumstances who had made some poor decisions for good reasons.

In the unlikely event that a more grievous sin had been committed, Heizou couldn't imagine the regret would be enough to overcome his would-be friend in such a way. Not when the man’s final thoughts were of the woman he was so eager to see.

“Just saying it was a curse feels like a cop-out.” The teacup was set aside so Heizou could page through his notes properly. “Plus, when one considers the circumstances, I have concerns this could be more correlation than causation.”

Kazuha tilted his head with his brows knit, urging Heizou to clarify. With a huff, Heizou flipped back to the notes from the day before. “Chongyun is an exorcist, and Xingqiu is a bookworm. It wouldn’t be out of the question for either of them to conflate what they witnessed with a legendary curse.”

“You think he exaggerated what he saw?”

“No.” Heizou said curtly, “I believe his account is accurate; it just…doesn’t fit in the puzzle.” It doesn’t explain why I’ve been seeing similar things, either. Heizou thought as he continued to ignore his breakfast.

The notebook was carefully slid from Heizou's hand and replaced with the warm teacup. “In other words, a guilt-induced madness can explain Okamato's actions but doesn't check all the boxes you're looking for.” Kazuha thumbed through the notes himself, glancing sidelong at Heizou, “Like the link between his death and the missing children that you’ve yet to share.”

Heizou hid his wince in the steam of his tea. Kazuha was no fool. He could sniff out a liar better than any bloodhound. That included his partner not sharing the full details of their investigation. 

In truth, Heizou just hadn't come up with a way to explain it without sounding mad himself. The aspects of the theory he was having trouble accepting: if Okamoto’s self-destruction was the result of the curse, then Heizou had to consider the possibility that he was cursed as well. 

In a way, it was easier to think of himself as cursed. That the Woman was some malicious spirit that had fastened itself to him as punishment for his sins. Easier to assume a malevolent presence was responsible for the nightmares that dogged his steps, whispering for him to give in to his darkest whims. Easier to accept an unnatural evil than to accept that his mind might be turning against him.

A curse could be broken, bargained with, fought with words and charms and spells. But trauma? That stayed. It seeped into bone and memory, lingered in silence and shadows, with no exorcism able to banish it.

Neither option was palatable, nor did he know how to broach the subject to even explain why he’d been so secretive to his partner. Yet he knew, regardless of what explanation he gave, Kazuha would accept it at face value for Heizou’s sake. A courtesy that would end once Kazuha determined the secret had become a detriment.

Avoidance could buy him time, but no amount of deflection would save him from the scarlet gaze that could see right through him. He’d just have to endure for now and hope he came up with a less insane-sounding explanation. Or better yet, have the issue resolved entirely.

“It’s just as you said before; I’m following my intuition.” He smiled in a way he hoped was convincing. “Although, I theorize Yelan had the same hunch, considering how readily she allowed us to follow the lead.” A shaky explanation, but it’d be enough for his partner to take the hint.

Kazuha stared a moment longer before handing the notebook back to Heizou. “Let us focus on the kidnapping cases first, then, until you’re confident of what is fact and fiction.” He rose to his feet and lightly dusted the backside of his pants. “I’ll tell the others to prepare to depart, if you’ll finish your meal?”

Heizou glanced at the rapidly cooling bowl of congee he’d left neglected and chuckled nervously. As usual, Kazuha could spot his bad habits acting up long before Heizou had a chance to consider them. The notebook was set aside in more of a performative gesture than any intention of eating, and Heizou pulled the bowl onto his lap. “Right. I’ll just finish this and we can head out. I hope you don’t mind if I pick your brain while we walk?”

At first, Kazuha didn’t look at him, and for a moment Heizou feared the reckoning of those scarlet eyes had already arrived to call him out. But before his thoughts could persuade him of the worst, Kazuha tilted his head with a half-smile. “Naturally. I am your partner, after all.”

Somehow, the reassurance stung more.

The first stop on their itinerary was a small village along the coast. The road leading to it was a branch off one of the major trade routes leading into Liyue Harbor, making for an easy stopover for merchants traveling from the mountain settlements further north. Opposite that was a collection of ruins that, according to Xingqiu, were over 500 years old.

Both served to attract many a traveler, from merchants to tourists disguised as would-be treasure hunters. That cast a wide net in terms of suspects, and yet the list provided by the Millelith was nearly nonexistent. Heizou hoped that careful investigation had narrowed the scope to only a few people of interest. But when compared to the work Yelan’s team had done, it was obvious the officers had fallen short of the already low bar Heizou had set.

Heizou flipped through the folio in hopes that another list would be hidden further in the small stack of papers, but when he came up short, he passed the roster over to Xingqiu. “The suspect list is astonishingly small for a village next to a major trade route.”

Xingqiu, trailing behind with his own notes in hand, craned his neck to see over Heizou’s shoulders. “Agreed, especially when one considers they don’t have an exact time when he went missing.”

“Do you recognize any of these names?”

With an inquisitive hum, Xingqiu took a few swift steps to catch up to Heizou, leaning close as he looked over the names. After a moment, he pointed to the first on the list. “This one, Sun Yinghua. She used to take commissions for the merchants coming into port. I haven’t seen her in some time.”