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It wasn't until thousands of eons later, that Scaramouche would latch onto another mortal… unfitting of his ways, but his gut told himself that this time was different. Because unlike the other times, this seed sprouted almost on its own, as if it was eager to grow from the start; it just needed a little push. A push to welcome something new into its heart and mindset. Something new called sin. This wasn't actually considering something new, regardless, rather letting loose of morality for once and embracing the other side of the same coin.
•~•
A new day has emerged for the citizens of Inazuma. Sounds of chatter pierced through the windows of Heizou’s house, he groaned once he heard them and wouldn't get up until his alarm clock actually rings. Following that, he cocoons himself up with his blanket, typical Heizou behavior. But after a few minutes, his alarm didn't ring, his phone did. Puzzled on why his boss called him this early, he picked up with a groan.
“Hello-,” Heizou started, but suddenly got cut off by his boss on the other side of the line.
“Heizou, come quick! I'll send you details on the way, but you need to get out. NOW!” Heizou didn't even get a chance to react before his boss hung up and sent over the location. After dragging himself to get dressed — which consumed a lot more time than he thought — he rushed out the door and bolted to the location.
Heizou was out of breath and hyperventilating after running that distance in such a short amount of time… and it just so happens to be around the Kamisato estate, which was very far from Inazuma city. Once he reached the entrance, Thoma guided him to the scene while ushering unrelated people outside.
“Long time no see, doushin Shikanoin.” Thoma muttered absentmindedly while his light green eyes darted around. Heizou only nodded and followed Thoma’s lead through the crowd.
•~•
“Took you long enough, Shikanoin…” his boss, who goes by the name of Owada, runs a hand through his messy and tangled hair as he urges Heizou to quickly come take a look at the crime scene.
As quickly as he could, Heizou’s perceiving eyes scan the scene within seconds. The victim was laying lifelessly on a pool of their own red on their stomach. It seems that no one had dared to investigate until the number one detective came to take matters in his own hands. With caution, Heizou wears the latex gloves prepared and flipped the corpse around to have a good look, in which he heard a few people around him gasp out of either terror or fear after seeing the condition of the body — a knife was embedded into the victim’s intestines. From here on out, Heizou had to rely on his assistant to work things out that not everyone’s eyes could decipher. Though, his assistant isn't a person, it was his own instinct, too sharp just to be called a skill. The wound looks fresh, presumably committed around an hour ago, and the knife pierced was pretty deep into the body. Heizou stares at the corpse in pity, but the more pressing matter at the moment was finding out the one who did it.
“Check and sample the handle of the knife, we might find a trace of the killer.” Heizou ordered in a stern voice, the people around him nodded.
•~•
Heizou got back to Inazuma city, and went into the police station to get a few things checked. He sighed once he saw the pile of reports and paperwork he had to finish, but he couldn't care less at the moment.
He pulled out a specific case file from a shelf he purposely shoved into the deepest corner of, in hopes that other people, especially Owada, wouldn't find it easily.
After he ensures that there isn’t another soul inside of the station, he laid out all the leads he found regarding the case. The contents were about a murderer he was secretly collecting information about without his boss’s orders, or else he would constantly pester Heizou about this to no end… according to past murders, it proves that the murderer has been traveling all around Inazuma. There were certain distinct details about the murder that Heizou could just tell that it was committed by the same person: The type of weapon used, the way the victim was found dead, even to the type of people that they were after. Based on the previous cases, the type of weapon used were always melee weapons stabbed around the abdomen area, only exception being an arrow once but it was also used as a melee weapon.
It proves that the murderer favored closed ranged combat. The gears in Heizou’s head started turning more smoothly than ever, and it was likely that the case he investigated earlier this morning was related to this killer too.
Too immersed in this case, Heizou didn't realize that the skies were already turning a shade of amber. It was obvious that he was way more interested in this murderer more than the case he was given by Owada — that didn't matter to him at this moment. Every time Heizou finally got himself to stop working on it, he only realized how obsessive he might've been… There was just something about this person, that his instincts were screaming at him to pursue, and his instincts were always right. He was so dedicated that a few weeks ago he decided to ask Kujou Sara for vacation leave to go to Kannazuka and Yashiori island just to investigate the case. And for once… He was questioning his own instinct.
His thoughts were interrupted by his co-workers walking in the station. Startled by the sudden intrusion, Heizou hurriedly scurried all of his paperwork away in the file. Some of the paper has been wrinkled and scrambled. Tch, damn it.
“Ah, Shikanoin… you're still here at this hour? Man alive, you must be really busy.” The co-worker swishes her hair to the other side of her shoulder while giving Heizou a side-long glance as she went to her table to get some paperwork from there. Heizou only nervously chuckled and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Haha, yeah… Work has been really creeping up my ass, not gonna lie.” Heizou utters a white lie with an awkward chuckle, he was in fact putting all of this workload on himself. How laughable.
•~•
After giving up on the case for today, Heizou decided to go to the bar close to his house to relax and let loose a bit; though his mind subconsciously drifted back to the anonymous murderer every time he tried not to think about it. Infuriating as it is, he couldn't help but to admit that he actually revelled and enjoyed finding tiny puzzle pieces related to the case.
Entering the bar, instead of heading towards the bartender and asking for a drink, he went to an undisturbed corner and sighed as he sat down. Heizou was never one to really drink, but he felt that he could unwind once in a while after feeling stressed about the work that he brought upon himself.
Eventually though, he went to go get a drink, and it was at those moments that Heizou realized he was a lightweight; contradicting as he just finished his third glass of cocktail. He can quite literally feel his thoughts become more and more incoherent and irrational. Heizou’s world shrunk as he felt himself become disgustingly vulnerable in the moment, as though his barrier of vulnerability became fragile like a thin layer of glass-
His thoughts were interrupted by a veiled and cloaked figure suddenly sitting down next to him and talking to the bartender — he couldn't make out what they were talking about and he couldn't really care less… though must a man wear a cloak and a veil at this time of the year? It was the peak of July, and yet this man is wearing all of that clothing as if it’s already snowing outside.
Heizou’s instincts suddenly shifted inside of him, trying to reach him in his drunken state. Before Heizou could question whatever the instincts are alerting him about, the veiled man suddenly spoke up.
“Ah, detective Shikanoin? A rare sight to see a detective who sticks to his morale like a koala letting loose.” Heizou could literally hear the man smirk as they said in an amused voice.
“I don't believe we’ve met.” Heizou put up his best fake smile and turned towards the rather cocky man. His voice was laced in deceitful delight, and a hint of sarcasm, and he was sure that they both knew Heizou’s subtle way of saying ‘what the fuck do you want from me’. The other only chuckled — his way of reciprocating those grudging words, as he removed the veil off his head.
Heizou half expected the man’s hair to be a bit messy under, but he was proven wrong — the moment his deep green eyes locked onto those mesmerizing indigo eyes, he knew there was something about this man that intrigued him more than anything. Those eyes held him like a chokehold, petrifying Heizou for a full second before he could regain his composure.
“No, we haven't indeed. Although, you've certainly caught my interest — I'd enjoy learning more about you.” The man’s tone was polite, yet has a hint of playfulness in them. As much as Heizou wanted to deny it, he was starting to get hooked. A lot.
“What's your name? Or what do you go by?” The way Heizou’s words slipped out of his mouth made it seem like he was almost desperate to know the anonymous man’s identity, who choked out a small laugh.
“My name… I go by Scaramouche, but you can just call me Scara.”
Heizou took in those words like a sponge, as if already committing to remembering his name.
“Alright, Scara…”
Not long after, they started conversing back and forth; the dialogue moved as though it had always existed, and in that rhythm, Heizou’s interest in discovering more about Scara grew undeniably stronger — he couldn't quite keep his eyes off of Scaramouche, and he blamed it partly on alcohol…
The atmosphere between them had shrunk down, even Heizou noticed Scaramouche slowly scooting closer and closer to himself, until they were just centimeters apart.
“So… what's a detective like you doing at a bar alone? Didn't bring any company, hm~?” A scoff escaped Scaramouche’s lips as he observed Heizou in his drunken state with an amused smile.
“Just… trying to take my mind off a case that's been bugging me recently. I just can’t find the culprit despite pouring my time on the case like it’s the only thing that mattered, ugh.” Heizou lets out a groan, clicking his tongue as his mind drifts to the anonymous killer again. To that, Scaramouche hummed in response, now listening more intently.
“And why can't you find the culprit, detective?” Scaramouche chuckled. “Don't tell me the great detective, Shikanoin Heizou, is actually struggling on a case that's as easy as this?”
“Easy? Easy for you to say, tch. This killer has been travelling all over Inazuma – I don't even know if they're in the city right now. No distinct leads, and my instincts… I usually trust them really much, but this time I think I might be wrong…”
Heizou started ranting in his drunken state, spewing random facts about himself and explaining how the case was infuriating him. Heizou saw the other tilt his head and chuckled in amusement as he watched him spiral.
“Maybe,” Scaramouche murmured, leaning in just slightly, his voice dropping, “you're looking too far away — too vague. Sometimes, the one you're chasing is much closer than you think." Scaramouche’s smile was one of a mix of dangerous but sweetness all at once. “But who knows? Maybe I'm just a stranger spouting nonsense to a drunk detective…” He gave Heizou a wink. “Or maybe I know more than I let on~”
Then it clicked for Heizou. The way that Scaramouche talked was way too smooth for someone that just met him. All the evidence, all the countless nights of gathering information, for the man himself to appear right in front of him?! From the way that he noted down that the murderer was a veiled figure, he almost forgot about a crucial detail. Heizou couldn't tell if he should be delighted, frustrated, or embarrassed at this point.
“You… hmph. So my instincts aren't wrong after all.” Heizou started to eye Scaramouche differently. Drunk as a detective may be, but he wasn't dumb enough not to catch onto him. Scaramouche noticed the shift in Heizou’s gaze — the drunken haze lifting slightly, replaced with a flicker of sharp awareness.
This’ll be fun, Scara may as well have said.
“And here I thought you were too far gone to pick up on subtleties." Scaramouche let out a soft, mocking sigh, fingers traced the rim of the glass he was drinking earlier despite not being able to get drunk, eyes gleaming under the dim bar lights. “Tell me, detective… what does your instinct say now?” He let those words linger in the air and for Heizou to think.
Following that, Heizou knew it was risky, but he decided to just go for the nail in the head.
“You've been spying on me all of this time, haven't you? You know far too much about me than a normal stranger would even dare to think of.” Heizou said while staring hard into his glass, determined not to look Scaramouche in his eyes, for he knew those eyes were either convicting, deceiving, mocking, or even all at the same time. Scaramouche seemed to be able to read Heiou’s mind, leaning in closer, as if a cat was cornering its mouse.
“Spying?” He echoed. “Oh, not at all. I just happen to have an… eye for things, you might say.” He smirked more widely now, his fingers somehow finding its way to a strand of Heizou’s hair and playfully twirling it around.
Heizou’s reaction wasn’t what Scaramouche expected either: his eyes flared up for a moment, as though about to give Scaramouche a lecture, but his eyes softened a moment later; there was a hint of longing in that pair of emerald green eyes. He didn't make a move to swat the hand away. Enough said.
“I'm merely observant,” Scaramouche continued when Heizou was speechless, “I've been paying attention to you, my dear detective. You fascinate me… and I can’t help but watch in awe.”
Heizou paused for a moment, before asking more; curiosity getting the better of himself.
“If you really are the person I'm searching for all this time… then did you plan all of those kills on purpose? To throw me off by making them look random yet so recognizable?”
Scaramouche only chuckled at that, his hand still caressing Heizou’s hair teasingly. “Ah, getting to the heart of the matter, are we~?” He let out a chuckle and leaned in closer to whisper into Heizou’s ear. “And what if I did, detective? What if every single death… every drop of blood spilt… was for the purpose of catching your attention? Of having you look at me… and only me?”
Heizou’s eyes visibly darkened at those words, and he swatted Scaramouche’s hand away from his hair.
“ That’s… that's a sin, Scaramouche. I don't follow them — I stick to my morals and righteousness.” He said defensively, shaking his head in defiance. For Heizou, that was something that no person should ever do intentionally, and he meant it like his life was on the line.
Hearing that Scaramouche laughed outright, his fingers despite being swatted, latched onto Heizou’s face again, trailing down at the side and gently tilting his head up, forcing the detective to look him in the eye. “Morals and righteousness, huh? Oh, how noble of you,” he said mockingly, “Tell me… how has that worked out for you? In all your time hunting and chasing me, has your precious righteousness brought you any closer to capturing me? Or did it just bring us here… to me sitting here, and you, drunk and alone in a bar?” Scaramouche paused and looked at Heizou, to confirm if he was following on or not before continuing, “I may be a sinner, detective, but you… you're the one who’s already falling. In more ways than one.”
A slow, wicked smile curled Scaramouche’s lips as he leaned back — just enough to savor the conflict in Heizou’s eyes. Burning wasn't the right word to use to describe Heizou’s inner turmoil, but it was definitely making Heizou realize more and more that what Scaramouche said didn't contain a lie in them, even if it sounded like Scaramouche wanted to manipulate Heizou’s thoughts; a dilemma to be stuck between indeed.
After noticing the long pause from Heizou — perhaps hesitation — Scaramouche conducted the speaking once more. “Keep chasing me. Keep clinging to your morals like they'll save you. They won't stop what's coming… or how much I want you to break over me.”
“You won't tear me away from my morals, if I can't nip evil in the bud, then I shall be it's natural enemy. I've stuck to them, a light guiding my path, and you think you have the right to take it all away from me?” Heizou clicked his tongue and raised his voice on Scaramouche; he didn't care what others thought of him right now, what Scaramouche said had deeply wounded him in a way. Reacting to Heizou’s actions and words, Scaramouche just smirked and took another sip from the drink.
“Oh? Such conviction~ But tell me, detective,” His voice was laced with mockery, “if I offered you the truth, handed myself to you on a silver platter, would you really chain me up and throw away the key? Or would you hesitate… because deep inside that blunt heart of yours, you don't want to let me go either?”
Hearing that, Heizou almost laughed in irony. Him hesitating to lock a criminal up? Impossible. Not in a million years. Surely not… Maybe not?
“Do you realize the words pouring out from your mouth or are you just blabbering nonsense? Why would I not just hand you over to the police, hm?” His eyes were challenging, masking the self-doubt buried deep inside beneath his exterior.
“Because,” Scaramouche started, pretending to ponder for a moment, “you’ve been chasing me not to catch a killer… but to find me. And now that I'm here, talking to you, looking at you, wanting you, you're starting to wonder: what if catching me ruins this little game between us? I know you thrive on the chase, detective. On the mystery. On the possibilities of us… handing me over would end it all so tell me-”
Scaramouche saw the look in Heizou’s eyes and he knew he already won. Heizou was fighting a losing battle.
“Do you really want this story to end? Or do you want it to get even more interesting?”
Heizou paused. He was about to retort — then closed his gaping mouth. Shit, Scara was right. There was a look of slight vulnerability on Heizou’s face, reflecting how accurately Scaramouche had explained everything in the course of years in a matter of seconds to himself.
“I… no…” Heizou hopelessly said, knowing all the conviction in his voice left him. Scaramouche only gave him a glance which suggested, ‘take your time, I won’t bite’.
“...you asshole, I need to sober up.” Heizou ultimately decided to avoid the question that was gnawing at his heart, instead diverting the subject. Scaramouche gave him a slight disapproving look before letting out a dramatic sigh.
“Hah… You can’t keep lying to yourself, detective. You should know this better than anyone; you can choose to either let sin keep chasing you or just… embrace it fully. Let loose a bit, won’t you? What's the point of coming here to the bar, if not?” Scaramouche said in a pretty laid-back tone.
After what seemed like forever, Heizou finally regained his composure and deliberately said in a more serious but softer voice.
“Ever since I was young, I swore to sin that it'll be my everlasting enemy, you can't suddenly make me collude or let alone accept it, not in a million years.” Heizou’s deep green eyes were flaring as he glared at Scaramouche, trying to fight back despite feeling the roots of his beliefs slowly crumbling each passing second… Scaramouche knew. Heizou knew that Scaramouche knew. The evidence lay in front of him, as Scaramouche’s smile grew wider.
“Ah, the noble detective, sworn to be a hero, hm? You think you're so strong, don't you? You think your morality… your righteousness, it makes you untouchable.” Scaramouche laughed softly, the sound dripping with mockery. His fingers continued to caress Heizou’s cheek, the touch almost tender in its condescension. “But I can see something more in your eyes, detective… something that's longing to let go.”
Heizou’s eyes momentarily widened as his breath slightly hitched. Because it somehow made sense to him. No, no… it can’t be. I can’t possibly be swayed over this, right? Heizou’s thoughts were echoing inside his head, as if pressuring him not to give in, to retain his pride.
“Impossible… you're just taking advantage of me in my drunken state. You-”
“Just admit it, detective. This isn't something that you hate nor disgust – you just don't see your hidden potential underneath the mask of virtue.” Scaramouche deliberately cut Heizou off and continued on. “You know it yourself too, detective, you're just trying to deny it to feed your pride.”
“And you think you're having so much fun trying to decipher how I feel, huh? Why do you even care so much about this? About me?” Heizou retorted in an irritated tone, giving Scaramouche an unimpressed look before subconsciously ordering another drink from the barista of how drunk he was.
Scaramouche was about to retort, but he closed his mouth as he observed Heizou’s drunken state. He lets out a chuckle, watching the detective's eyes try to focus solely on the glass in front of him.
“Drunken or not, you’ll feel it even when you're sober.” Scaramouche’s voice cuts through Heizou’s thoughts.
In truth, Heizou was already beginning to feel more unstable even to himself — the words from Scaramouche hit him harder than he initially thought. Being right was always the bright path, right? It was always the path that wins in the end… the path that doesn’t lose… and it’s more than just about winning and losing. The path that something (someone) doesn't slip out of your fingers like flowing water.
“I hate you.” Heizou glared.
“No, you don’t, you'd never. Your little obsession eating you alive for the past few months is right here in front of you.”
“You’re taking advantage of me in my drunken state…”
“Don’t you get it yet? I'm not creating the desire or sin in you, detective. I'm simply… unraveling it. Pulling each thread of your thick walls until all your bones and muscles are embarrassed from the attention… and that’s left is what you've been denying since the beginning. Admit it. I'm right.” A smirk played on Scaramouche’s lips.
“Don’t– filthy words sound almost pretty in your voice; that’s not a compliment in the slightest.”
It was clear that Heizou was shook by Scaramouche’s comment, his eyes faltering for a singular moment, but he didn't bother to hold up a composure anymore. There was just this one thought in Heizou’s mind, slowly growing and sprouting with darkness that was both consuming and captivating. In his entire life… has he been missing out on this?
Even so, he tried to cling to his roots of righteousness; what he grew from and built his entire life upon, working as a detective and becoming the best in his field in the entire city. He's the only one that hasn't been swayed by corruption or greed, just pursuing his job as he truly liked it. He did like being a detective — it was exciting in a way, finding evidence left and right, working on them to find the culprit, the same routine, but he’d never felt full. Never felt the sense of true satisfaction that would soothe his endless satiation.
Thinking about it now, Heizou was just following what he was told since he was younger, his own experiences and the people around him shaping the path for him. The path wasn't hard to walk on, it’s smooth and stable. But that's the problem. It's… boring. 'Isn’t there more to this? This is it?’
Clearly, it wasn't enough to contain Heizou's greatness of a mind.
The smirk on Scaramouche’s face widened as he saw Heizou’s internal struggle: to hold on or to let go. It was only a matter of time before his scale of judgement tipped over to the heavier side… where he’d never imagined what kinds of dangers and thrills awaited him. After all, the detective was always curious about the unknown, right?
“You look troubled, detective. It's all painted on your face, your ever slowly tipping scale of judgement, just begging to be let go already.” Scaramouche says with a more deliberate and soft tone, as if trying to convince Heizou even more. And damn it, it was working.
There were so many arguments left in Heizou’s mind, so many bluffs to throw around, but he wanted to be proven wrong this time. Just once, to be silenced and step up to the pavement instead of walking the path. He didn't care if it was influenced anymore, because he also wanted this now, he wanted to let go and feel finally fully satisfied. Heizou was blooming. Beautifully.
Maybe it was hunger, maybe it was desire, maybe it was greed… but those sins don't affect Heizou at this moment. The judgement has been decided, and there was no turning back. The scale that had once tipped to the side of virtue and light, now had fully weighed on the other side. So dark and evil, but enticing… and that was enough for Heizou to finally give in.
“Fine… looks like I have a certain exception for a certain someone.” Heizou rolled his eyes and mocked in a sarcastic tone, trying to hide how he’s submitting.
“Ah, there it is… the look of a pitiful mortal finally letting go of a false sense of fulfillment. Although… an exception for me, hm? How precious, you know I'll never let you take it back once you cross this line.”
Scaramouche’s eyes gleamed with triumph, a quiet, dangerous delight dancing in his gaze.
“Good boy."
“... Tch, shut up.”
“Pfft, adorable. Embarrassed now, detective? We've only just started, you know? Look at me.”
“What are you tainting me with, Scara…?” Heizou lets out a huff, his defenses melting slowly, turning back to face the smug man regardless.
“Tainting you?” A laugh from Scaramouche, not a cruel one, but one of satisfaction and amusement. “I'm not tainting you, detective. I'm waking you up. To everything you've been denying for far too long.” He murmured, his hand moving to gently cup Heizou’s face, thumb stroking over those blushing cheeks.
A shiver ran through Heizou’s frame as Scaramouche’s words hung in the air — sharp, tempting, dangerous. The way he looked at him, held him; a stark contrast to anything he had experienced before.
With his head still reeling, Heizou struggled to find a response. All his training, his logic, seemed to vanish completely when faced with the intensity of Scaramouche’s gaze. Tch, damn those attractive indigo colored eyes. Finally, with a trembling voice, he managed to croak out a single defiant question:
“Why me…?”
The question caught Scaramouche mildly off guard, but his smirk softened just slightly, as if Heizou was finally asking the right question.
“Why you?” He echoed, “A thousand years I’ve walked this world… watched mortals burn themselves on their fleeting passion. And then you showed up, chasing me like fire chasing air. So stubborn. Yet so bright.” Pfft, this detective… he thought, “You didn't fear me like others did — you wanted to understand me. And for the record detective, I didn't ruin you in the slightest… you ruined yourself the moment you started dreaming about me.”
And then before Heizou could utter a retort, Scaramouche had closed the gap unexpectedly.
Two lips collided with each other, one teasing and one rigid still. But the teasing one didn't relent.
The kiss was slow at first, a taunt of sin and surrender, but quickly deepened into centuries of longing meeting one mortal’s breaking point. When they parted for air, a small chuckle escaped Scaramouche’s lips.
“And now? What makes it better is that you can’t arrest me now, because you’re guilty too, heh.”
For the first time in Heizou’s life, he found himself speechless, but it wasn’t in a fully unpleasant way. His eyes locked on the other man, the arrogance that should've been insufferable but suited Scaramouche so well. How infuriating, he thought, but Scaramouche could probably hear it telepathically anyway.
Heizou’s head was still spinning because of Scaramouche’s kiss… the way the other man had just completely taken him. Taken him, the fearless and cocky detective without a single trace of an apology.
Tch.
Heizou hated how he wanted more.
“You're going to be the death, and the new beginning of me, asshole…”
Scaramouche saw the glint of resignation in Heizou’s eyes and almost laughed out of joy — it’ll be fun to toy with Heizou’s strings around his fingers, but it seems that his own strings also seemed to be around Heizou’s fingers. A soft sigh, a fond one, escaped his lips.
“Finally giving in, hm? Easier than I'd expected… Are you this easy to convince, even for a detective?”
“No, it's just you.”
Heizou let out a scoff, standing up from the bar stool; he stretched up slightly as proceeded to start walking out of the bar without much of a notice. Scaramouche raised an eyebrow at the detective’s actions, not really expecting that type of reaction from him. A second later, Heizou looked back and cocked his head to one side.
“What, are you not going to go back tonight with me?” Heizou rolled his eyes, tapping his fingers on the door frame of the bar door to tell Scaramouche that he wasn't in the mood of waiting.
“Oh, I am,” Scaramouche replied, his eyebrow still raised at first, but his lips curled into a sly smile. “You’re not having second thoughts anymore, eh?”
“I don't need them when I'm with you, never.”
Heizou declared with confidence that suited his air, one that both he and his instincts agreed upon.
Scaramouche paused mid-step, a flicker of something: Surprise? Pride? — dancing across his usually unreadable face. Then, slowly, his smirk deepened into something warmer. Dangerous. Real.
"...Good," he murmured, closing the gap between them until their arms brushed with every step. "Because I don’t do second chances." He reached out, fingers lacing loosely with Heizou’s, tentative for a being so certain of everything else.
"And if you’re going to be mine," Scaramouche added quietly, thumb tracing the detective’s knuckles, "you better not flinch when I drag you straight through hell."
He let the words linger. "Or when I burn down your world just to watch you rise from the ashes… with me."
Heizou was mildly surprised by that declaration. Alcohol-influenced or not, he was enjoying this more than virtue would allow, but the difference now was he ignored the call back to the ‘good’ side.
Because the very thing waiting for him back there was just empty objectives for him to fulfill with no end.
So Heizou broke free from the chains bounding him to those duties, running right into darkness's embrace.
Warm?
Definitely not.
But it was home to him now.
“Better than being chained in and not experiencing anything at all, am I right?” Heizou unbelievably said that out of his own words... The seed really just needed a little push to grow into a beautiful flower. Scaramouche stopped in his tracks once he heard those words, pulling Heizou to a halt with him. For the first time — truly — the mask slipped. Not into cruelty, not into mockery… but something raw.
Awe.
He stared at the detective; the man who had fought him, denied him, feared himself for wanting him — and now stood here, speaking those words like freedom tasted sweet on his tongue.
"...You clever little thing," Scaramouche breathed out, voice almost reverent. He stepped forward until there was no space between them again and cupped Heizou’s face with one hand. "You're right, chains are for prisoners." His thumb brushed over Heizou’s cheekbone — a touch softer than sin should ever allow.
"But you? You were never meant to be tamed."
A slow smile curled his lips. "You were meant to burn beside me."
And then he kissed him — deeply this time — not as predator or prey… but as equals in ruin. As fire finds fire,
and flowers finally bloom in the dark.
The night air wrapped around them like a secret too delicious to keep, the city lights of Inazuma flickering in the distance—witnesses to something long overdue. Scaramouche finally pulled back from the kiss, his forehead resting against Heizou’s as he smirked, voice low and velvet.
"Let’s go ruin your bed then, Heizou."
He laced their fingers together again—tighter this time—and tugged him forward without waiting for an answer. Because there were no more words left to say.
Only fire. Only fall.
Only them.
Fin.
•~•