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Kazuha leans against the window sill, inhaling deep and slowly, dragging the blunt from his lips. The crisp air feels refreshing against his skin but it wasn’t enough. He needs something more.
His stomach grumbles.
He needs munchies. Something only a fluorescently lit corner store could satiate. With little to his name, he grabs his wallet, phone, and keys and heads out the door. After driving only a few blocks down, he stopped at 7/11. The door chimes as he enters, nodding as one of the cashiers gave their obligated greetings.
Kazuha grabs a can of pizza-flavored lays and a small pack of Twinkies. As he brings them to the counter, he steals a glance at the cashier; she wears long blue hair in a ponytail with disgust painted fresh on her face. His snacks weren’t that atrocious.
“Sir, are you-” the cashier stared hard at his face. Namely his lips. Kazuha opened his mouth to say something but the blunt fell and rolled on the counter. Oh. He forgot it was still there. Shouldn’t be an issue, he's fairly certain weed was legal in Liyue.
“Where are we?”
“Ritou, Inazuma sir.” Shit.
“My bad, I’ll just throw it out.” Kazuha goes to pick it up but grubby, minimum-wage hands beat him to it.
“Sir, it’s illegal, to begin with. I’ll confiscate this as evidence for the police.” As she speaks with a smugness in her voice, Kazuha feels his stomach drop.
“You called the police? ” He's beginning to sober up and it isn't because of time or the cool air.
“They’re on their way. Weed isn’t something to be taken lightly, its addictive properties will o-” he tunes her voice out, blood rushing once he hears faint sirens in the distance. High on adrenaline and cannabis, he grabs the snacks from the countertop and runs towards the exit door.
“Sir! You didn’t pay fo-”
He throws whatever loose change and bills are in his pockets in her general direction. He steals a glance behind him and meet eyes with the one and only Kujou Sara opening the door. Shit.
Immediately, she yells at her men to cover the second exit but Kazuha was already in his car, pulling the door shut. He stuck his key into the engine but it keeps failing to start. Several policemen are already behind him, armed and aiming at his car.
“ C’mon, c’monn ” he was tapping on his wheel impatiently. His car was cherished, his beloved, but by no means was it in good condition. But, it was all he had and he needed to go, now.
“Step out of the vehicle with your hands up,” Sara speaks into her intercom, gun pointed to the ground but cocked nonetheless.
Kazuha turns the key once more, kicks the front in frustration and the engine starts. Nice.
He slams the accelerator.
Policemen and cars alike swerve out of the way as he makes his way out of the parking lot. He gets on the main road, narrowly missing any cars and running right over sidewalk curbs. Police sirens only get closer.
“Sir, stop and pull the vehicle over.”
And risk a lifetime in jail for smoking a leaf? He’d rather swallow needles whole.
He needs a backup plan. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Beidou can get him out of this. He just needs to call her and- there’s a red light. He slams the stop pedal, drifting between two cars. He just barely passes one and rips the side view mirror off the other. Oops.
The police stop at the red light. He turns the street and uses the opportunity to fumble Beidou’s number. After nearly 4 long rings, she finally picks up. Groggy and unintelligible, she mumbles confused into the phone
“Not a lot of time to explain, I’m on 3 percent but I need you to pick me up.”
“Kazuha what-”
“Shit!” He dodges a pedestrian and drives on the sidewalk. “Where can you get me.”
“Uhh… maybe around the harbor?”
“You’re not in Inazuma?!” His voice strains, nearly yelling into the phone. He curses loudly, cringing tight as his trunk is obliterated by a fire hydrant. “Fuck!”
“Kazuha, what's going on?” He hears shuffling on the other end, but the only way she’ll get to him is if she swims across the literal sea.
“Getting tailed by Kujou-” Kazuha grinds his teeth as makes a sharp left, not going anywhere in particular. “Out of everything I’ve done, I’m not going to be locked up for something like this.” A bullet shoots past his car. Are they insane!? “At least jail me for boarder hopping.” Another few bullets shoot past him. One of them pops his tires and his car skirts hard.
“MY TIRE!” He looks out the window to see the state of his car but a bullet whizzes past him and he’s quickly humbled. He silently sticks his head back and rolls up his window manually. He sighs into his phone, staying ninety on city roads. “If you’re in Liyue, it’s fine I’ll figure it ou-” He glances back to his phone only to find it long since dead.
With a groan, he tosses it to the back seat, and glimpses at his mirrors. No policemen. No sirens. Kazuha leans back, adrenaline leaving his body. He finally begins to relax but in a second his stomach fills with dread. His mouth hangs open as he approaches a dark dead end.
There's one sole police car, lights off, and no siren ringing. In front of it stands a redhead in a bulletproof vest, gun pointed. They led him here. It was a trap.
Kazuha slowly puts his hands up. He doesn’t allow himself to feel the anxiety creeping up.
“Step out.” His voice was loud enough to hear through the car, no speaker needed.
As he reached for the door handle, his other hand snaked for the drive stick. He feigns opening the door, simultaneously ducking down and putting the car in reverse, and a bullet flies through his windshield. His eyes shoot wide open. The lengths the police would go to.
He doesn’t dwell on it for even a tenth of a millisecond, slamming the accelerator and reversing out of the dead end. His front and back shield are entirely shattered. As he pulls out, he finds the culprit for the bullet, Kujou herself, tuck-and-rolling out of the way. Their eyes meet once more.
So he sticks his tongue out. Sirens begin to approach. A nice ambiance to win too.
“Maybe another day, Kujou,” he teases, loud and clear with no glass to muffle. An airy laugh leaves him at the absolute vitriol stitched onto her face. It was priceless.
He makes another abrupt turn, the car skidding tight. He does a complete 180 to head in the opposite direction of the incoming police.
The traction is too strong for his worn out wheels to withstand, and the popped tire falls out completely. Bare metal skids across the concrete, leaving sparks of fire in his trail. He makes it a couple of streets down before hearing the familiar sirens. Kazuha squints in confusion. He lost them far too many times for them to keep catching up. There's no way.
He then realizes, he never thought to look up. As he glimpses through his sunroof, he sees a helicopter tailing him.
Oh. That’s how they know where he is.
His lost tire was slowing him down, his fastest 55 mph, and he's running out of gas. He needs an out, quick. He pulls into a tight street corner, houses and stores all huddled together. Perfect for losing unwanted attention. He throws open the car door and slides across the front end of the car, giving his 1985 Chevy Impala one last parting gaze before hopping an innocent civilian's fence.
He tucks under balconies and patios, running through at least six backyards. He catches his breath behind a column. After a few seconds, he peers behind it, the helicopter is a few streets away. Not entirely lost but not breathing down his neck. He could work with this.
Scanning his area, Kazuha sees someone's laundry hanging to dry. He ducks under the shadows of the fence before yanking a red hoodie off its lining. He throws it on and puts the hood up. The streets were nearly empty except for one car at the end of the block.
He could steal it. It was risky but not riskier than walking home. Kazuha takes a deep breath. He walks out from the shadows, onto the street. He takes long, quick steps, but not enough to warrant suspicion. At least he hopes. The car is only a few feet away before the wind picks up and his hair whips at his face. The helicopter is right on top of him again. He books it to the car, yanking the door open.
What he doesn't expect to see is someone already sitting in the driver's seat. Kazuha didn’t waste a second, grabbing the guy by his silver hair and dragging him out. Kazuha throws himself into the seat, closing the door. Luckily, he didn’t have to hotwire it, it was already on. He puts the car on drive, and thanks the Archons the police weren’t quick enough to catch up.
Kazuhas heart sank to his ass when he hears a shaky breath to his right. Foot hovering over the pedal, he slowly turns his head and makes eye contact with someone in the passenger seat.
Kazuha locks the doors.
The stranger was around his age, has thick brown hair, and a ridiculous dog-themed hoodie. It was cute but entirely unfitting.
“You’re- you’re him- the guy,” he stutters through his sentence, eyes wide and shock taking his tongue captive.
“The guy?” Kazuha drives out of parking, speeding up. He lowers the window and looks up. The helicopter was directly above them. “What guy?”
The stranger stayed silent, only lifting his phone and showing a news channel. Kazuha strains his eyes, making out a vague scene of a car speeding down a street. He turned right, avoiding any oncoming traffic, but when he looked at the phone… the car also turned right.
Maybe it was Beidou's bad influence, but pride swelled in his chest. He made it onto the news.
“This is NOT something to be proud of!” The stranger was holding onto the handle above him for dear life. “ESPECIALLY NOW THAT IM HERE.”
Kazuha snickers under his breath at his animate reaction. Maybe Beidou also desensitized him, he wouldn't be all that surprised. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a can.
“ARE YOU HAVING PRINGLES? WHILE BEING CHASED? ” The guy gapes at him, voice screeching at inhumane volumes. Kazuha rolls his eyes, a light smile playing on his lips.
“Yes, I’m still famished from smoking earlier.” He takes a sharp left with one hand while shaking the opened Pringles in the stranger's direction. “Want one?”
The stranger incredulously looks down at the chips and back at him, still clutching the handle. He presses his lips into a fine line, contemplating. “Is it pizza-flavored?”
“Mhm,” muddled by the chewing on his own chip. “Name’s Kazuha.”
The stranger sighs in defeat, letting one hand go to reach into the tin.
“Gorou.” There was a lapse in silence as they ate for a bit. Dinner time perhaps.
“Do you always wear dog hoodies?” Kazuha slows down as he reaches a tight turn. He may be wanted but he’s not willing to hurt his new passenger.
Gorou looks down at his hoodie, as though he forgot what he’s wearing himself. He cringes inwardly as he swept a hand over his burning face. “I only wear this when I’m home. Or close to home.”
“Well, now you're being broadcasted on live television with-”
“Oh my god please shut up. ”
“Oh? Do you not take pride in the fuzzy dog ears?”
Kazuha swerves as a bullet shoots at the ground beside them.
“WILL YOU PLEASE JUST SHUT UP AND DRIVE.”
Kazuha swallows any other teasing comments and slams the accelerator for the umpteenth time that night. He leans forward as he enters the highway. The car seems to be fairly new, managing to reach 150 mph.
“Gorou, can you check- Please stop screaming!” Kazuha casts a glare to his side and Gorous's mouth clamped shut. “Can you check what streets any oncoming police are on?”
“Why would I help you? You’re a criminal on the run! I’m a victim in all of this-”
“Do you truly think the police would believe that?” Kazuha weaves narrowly through cars, a crash on the highway could be lethal for both of them. “Now look at the news and tell me if there's any police up ahead.” He hears a deep sigh of resignation to his right.
“There's two cars a few streets behind us, one is on the- oh.”
“What do you mean ‘oh’ ?” Kazuha furrows his eyebrows, seriousness settling on his face.
“There’s a lineup of them. All cars with spike strips in the fron-”
“Hold on.”
“What do you mean hol- AAAAAA”
Kazuha pulls the wheel sharply one way, and the car skids in a loss of control. The car tilts way too far to the right, balancing on two wheels. Gorou’s ass leaves the seat, stomach lurching as the smell of burnt rubber floods their senses. Gorou’s reaching for Kazuha, screaming and clawing at his arm. Kazuha keeps spinning the wheel, hand reaching over hand. He leans left, watching the sparks reflect on the rearview, as the metal tail of the car meets the concrete. Kazuha braces himself and slams his shoulder against the car. It finally tips back on four wheels as they make it to the last exit of the highway.
Kazuha breathes a sigh, a shaky smile making its way onto his face as he avoided yet another calamity. It doesn’t last long.
“I’m gonna vomit.”
Kazuha pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not in this car.”
“Im gonna vomit.” Gorou’s gagging, slapping a hand to his mouth.
Kazuha grimaces to himself as he lowers the windows. There are only wet sounds of puking for a long minute.
Gorou leans back into the car, pulling up the windows. There was a moment of silence.
“I shouldn’t have gotten Pringles.”
“You shouldn’t have gotten into a police chase.” Gorou sneers at him, venom laced into his scratched-up voice.
“Didn’t have much of a choice.” He shrugs it off, as though it was casual.
“Wait why did they start chasing you?”
“....So I was smoking, right-”
“YOU’RE DRIVING HIGH RIGHT NOW?”
“Sshhhhh shh sh you’re going to give me a weed migraine.”
Gorou runs his hands through his face. Muttering a flurry of unintelligible curses. He picks up his phone to watch the broadcasting again.
“Huh, that's… weird.” Gorou brings the phone closer to his face. Kazuha briefly turns to him, focus remaining on the one-way in front of him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t see us anymore, like it’s alm-”
“SHIT!” Narrowly avoiding a still car, Kazuha swerves hard and Gorou bites down hard on his tongue, as the car spins, leaving dark streaks of the tires imprinted on the street.
Their car spins into a gas station, knocking down an entire tank of gasoline. It spills onto the friction-fueled tires and a fire erupts. Kazuha’s quick to open the door and tumble out of his seat, falling to his knees on the cold pavement. He’s coughing the smoke out of his lungs and squints his eyes open. He finds himself face-to-face with police-issued shoes.
“Afternoon Kaedehara.”
“Shit. ”
The cop squats down to look him in the eye. It’s the same redhead from before. Piercing green eyes bore into his own.
“You know, most of your driving skills were impressive,” he spoke leisurely, pulling handcuffs from out his belt. “A new car, unfamiliar highways, minimum casualties. All in all, your driving was phenomenal. And pretty difficult to pin you down.” He grabs Kazuha by the shoulders and pulls him to his feet.
“Likewise, it was an honor to evade your traps this evening.” Voice rasping from the smoke and fire, Kazuha lifts his chin high, a lazy smile plastered. “As lousy as some of them were.” The cop's gaze sharpened.
“You say they’re lousy but all it took to catch you was one empty car in the middle of a road and to throw off the helicopter camera-”
“It was empty?” Kazuhas eyes widen. The cop flipped Kazuha over, one hand against his back, leaning his chest against the car.
“Planted, you could say,” the ever-familiar sirens begin to grow closer.
“May I at least have the privilege of my captor's name” Kazuha looks over his shoulder, glancing back. The cop leans forward, securing cold handcuffs over Kazuha’s wrists.
“Detective Heizou, pleased to make your arrest.”
A flurry of other police cars finally arrives and out steps Kujou Sara. She nods curtly at Heizou as a greeting. Kazuha hears Gorou faintly pleading in the distance, something along the lines of “I don’t even know him!” and “I’m barely a threat! Look at my ears!” It’s a little humorous, to say the least.
“Put them in the back seat,” Kujou delivers.
Heizou complies with a satirical ‘yes ma'am’ as he files both Gorou and Kazuha into her cop car.
“Frankly,” Kazuha starts, getting his last leg into the car, “I anticipate our paths crossing again in the near future.” The detective closes the door, he remains audible through the open window. He looks down at Kazuha with an indecipherable look.
“For some reason, I don’t doubt that.”
The car engine starts, revving loudly. Kazuha meets the detective with one last look.
“Goodbye, detective,” an enigmatic smile as he waves with one hand.
As the car drives off, Heizou realizes.
He took off the handcuffs.