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They'd been dating for six months.
Although "dating" was a strong word. They'd met a couple of times a month at Puspa Café and after a few drinks, they'd started holding hands during conversation and hadn't let go until Kazuha walked him home and they'd parted ways with slight smiles and a fleeting kiss that was covered in darkness.
Scaramouche wouldn't tell anyone about this, but he stood still in the darkness of the hallway for a long time after each encounter with Kazuha, listening to his breathing. How he had learned to breathe. He held the hand that Kazuha had been holding only moments before, remembering how soft and warm it was compared to his own. When he had recovered enough to go to bed, he would sometimes, but really only sometimes, put his hand to his face and stroke his cheek with his thumb. It was cold and dead, but as he looked into the darkness of his abode, he imagined it was that soft and warm hand.
He would never have a heart that would warm his body like that.
Often afterwards he curled up in a ball and fell asleep with tears in his eyes. But he definitely wouldn't tell anyone this.
---
Kazuha found himself in Sumeru for a few days on an Alcor trading trip. They promised to meet in Sumeru City at the usual place. Scaramouche just lay in bed all day, letting the boredom and silence get to him. He didn't even breathe, he didn't feel the need to pretend to be anything more than a puppet. But through deep meditation, he had lost track of time.
"I'm going out," Scarmaouche announced as he hurriedly put on his shoes in the hall.
"With Kazuha?" Nahida appeared in the hallway.
Nahida was fond of getting inside his head and reading his mind. Scaramouche hoped she would just say goodbye and not ask prying questions.
"That’s none of your business," Scaramouche snapped, ashamed he couldn't be nicer to her. Sometimes, though, he couldn't hold back the anger he held inside. But when he turned to Nahida, he was only met with an amused smirk.
"You're trully expressive," she walked up to him and smiled even more. "It's like you are crystal clear," she held out her hands to Scaramouche. The young man was automatically leaning towards her, letting his aunt play with his hair for a moment.
When Scaramouche approached Nahida, he couldn't stand her openness. Every time her little hand was anywhere even close to his body, he would run away from her with curses and false threats. But the longer he stayed with Nahida, the more he welcomed her touch and warmth, and the less he remembered his mother's face and sternness.
"Did you sleep well?" Nahida continued to caress.
"I must be going," Scaramouche straightened up and left the house in a hurry.
Nahida stood in the hall for a moment longer, looking at the closed door. She was used to Scaramouche not answering her questions directly. However, Nahida could see a lot thanks to her abilities. Mostly, she already knew Scaramouche, too. She knew from his refusal that Scaramouche had slept well.
---
Kazuha was a traveller to the core, and it was obvious that he would prefer the outdoors. Fortunately, the sun was already bringing not only light but also warmth, and the pair were able to sit outside the Puspa Café garden.
By the time Scaramouche approached the arranged meeting place, Kazuha was already waiting for him. He watched as the sun slowly moved behind the hills.
He is beautiful, Scaramouche thought in awe when he saw Kazuha. Not that Kazuha wasn't attractive, but he was surprised at the intensity with which he felt this emotion. At that moment, Kazuha saw him and waved as his lips curled into a slight smile. The sun reflected his on his mouth. Scaramouche couldn't help but smile as well. He had trouble distinguishing between the sun and his friend.
"Why are you blushing, dear?" Kazuha asked as Scaramouche sat down next to him. His cheeks took on an even darker shade of red at the nickname.
"I'm cold," Scaramouche lied, shivering, and hugging his torso in a sign of cold.
"But it's such a beautiful day," his companion sighed out contentedly, taking a moment to gaze again at the beginning sunset. "Wouldn't you be better off if I lent you my coat?" He turned his gaze on Scaramouche.
"You'd better go get some beer," he prodded Kazuha. The other man just laughed and got up from the table.
Scaramouche worried before each of their meetings how the conversation would go. He wasn't sure if he was a suitable companion for dialogue, but Kazuha always convinced him otherwise. Talking with him was easy, mostly because Kazuha had stories to tell and could tell them nicely. Scaramouche was captivated by describing the landscape of Inazuma, even though he had spent a good part of his life there. When he described the purple leaves and the streets of the islands' capital to him, he felt like he was there for the first time in his life.
They weren't even halfway through their first beer when Kazuha set his hand on his thigh, palm up. Scaramouche looked first at the hand and then at the man, who smiled warmly at him and squeezed his fingers slightly a few times.
Scaramouche wasn't drunk, not even a little, he could just faintly feel the warmth spreading in his chest. But that was quite possibly Kazuha's fault. He usually felt his hands only after the third or fourth drink. This was too soon. Was something wrong? Is something wrong? Will this be the last time today?
"Teyvat to Scaramouche?" Kazuha spoke and by that he helped the other man who was spiraling into an anxious attack thanks to his thoughts.
"Sorry," Scaramouche cleared his throat and closed his fingers around Kazuha's palm.
The sun's rays had barely faded. Each of the pair had two glasses of beer in them, and Kazuha suggested they could go.
There was no question of being drunk or just tipsy. Scaramouche didn't react to the suggestion at first, too focused on Kazuha's hand. When they had started this habit those six months ago, they had kept it short, shy, awkward, and clumsy. After a few visits, the hand-holding became much more natural. Now he could just feel a warm thumb stroking the back of his hand. Kazuha squeezed his hand, getting the young man out of thoughts. With a slight nod of his head, he agreed, and they went to pay.
Sumeru was alive even at night, and especially the capital. Lamps illuminated groups standing around businesses and on the streets. Scaramouche hadn't quite gotten used to the swarm of the city. Inazuma was quiet, often too quiet. Both he and Kazuha liked silence. Often, however, when his body was still empty and all that filled him was pure hatred, he could feel the silence tearing him apart from the inside.
They found themselves at a crossroads of sidewalks, away from the swarm of tired students and awakened alcoholics. Scaramouche instinctively turned left. Kazuh's hand, however, restrained him from taking any further steps.
"What is it?" asked Scaramouche a little roughly, turning to his friend. Kazuha clutched his hand as if he would fall if he let go. His eyes were fixed on the ground and he was clutching his pants with his free hand.
He was ashamed. For the first time in his life, he saw a shy Kazuha.
"Don't you want to go to the right?" It was so strange; he was used to the novel traveller who moved through life as easily as a summer breeze. Wherever he went, he seemed to elevate the whole company, make friends, and simply knew (or so it seemed) how to live. He was simply a complete opposite of Scaramouche.
"But that would be walking away from my house," Scaramouche objected. Funny, even though he felt safe and at ease with Nahida, he still found it hard to call it home.
"From your house, yes," Kazuha nodded. For a moment, the young man didn't understand where he was going with this. However, their conversation at the Puspa Café replayed in his head. Kazuha had told him how the Crux crew had had to deal with the storm, how a little boy had wandered onto their ship in Liyue and then how he spent the day looking for his parents, and how he had helped unload cargo in Mondstadt. He also remembered how he had talked about his accommodation in Sumeru.
It was to the right of this intersection.
"You want me to come to your place?" Scaramouche asked, and Kazuha could do nothing but shyly shake his head.
Seeing Kazuha as shy as a small child, he couldn't help but feel a warmth traveling throughout his body. Perhaps it was the tenderness that ordinary people talked about.
Maybe he didn't need a heart after all.
"All right," Scaramouche agreed. But he couldn't take so many emotions at once. He let go of Kazuha's hand. Kazuha, after receiving his friend's approval, began to behave as was his normal: he smiled amiably and led his friend out of the crosswalk to the right.