Archive of Our Own ^beta

“ I’ll never go back!”

The words were spoken with pure, intense hatred, and in all seriousness.

Were he to never return to his old ways, it would still be too soon. So with the threat of his gnosis being taken, Scaramouche had to do everything in his power not to lose it. Even if it meant breaking out of his safeguard to try and reach it. Little did he know that would mean the end of his reign.

As his fingers just barely scratched the surface of the gnosis in a futile attempt to take it back, his pathetic, miserable life flashed before his eyes.

He may never reach godhood.

And if he were to not reach his ultimate goal, there was no reason for him to keep going.

So he shut his eyes, and lost himself to the fall.

To the blackness.

-

It was truely in Aether’s nature to be caring, it was his calling to help people. It was a part of the give and take in his journey to find his sister, so he in return paid off the debt he owed when asking others for help.

Now, Scaramouche had done… nothing for Aether. Nothing to help him, nothing to guide him, not a single friendly word or even look was directed the Traveler’s way. There wasn’t any reason for him to help… but watching the Balladeer hurtle to the ground, head first, mortified him. It was all it took for his feet to start running by themselves.

It was foolish to think Aether could catch him and break his fall. He was way too far away from the vessel to make it in time, no matter how fast he ran. So why was he surprised to see Scaramouche crash to the ground? Why did it cause him to halt in terror? Both the voice of Paimon and Nahida calling after him didn’t even stop him. A fall from that high was sure to have killed any ordinary person. But… Scaramouche wasn’t ordinary.

Aether’s pace quickened after his hesitation, he at least had to see if Scaramouche was really dead or not. And much to his surprise… there was rising and falling from the boy’s chest. There was no blood, neither was there any sign of the fading of his soul or body. Not yet, maybe, but even after waiting out those nerve-wracking couple seconds nothing changed. Nobody died that slowly here in Teyvat.

Paimon and Nahida were close by, making their way after the traveler. Nahida could see Aether’s sword drawn, as it had been before. Whether it was for self defense, or to finish the harbinger off, but neither were good.

Because both meant The Balladeer was still alive.

There was a good chance at it. Seeing as he wasn’t human, there was a very good chance he wasn’t dead. Kusanali knew more than the average person in Sumeru after all.

“Traveler!”

Aether dropped to his knees next to the boy, shaking him violently by the shoulders to wake him up. Which would probably only increase the pain Scaramouche could be in, but that was an afterthought. This man in front of him committed the most atrocities out of all the villains he's met thus far… and yet he did not feel right watching him die. He had seen his memories, after all.

Most of Scaramouche’s actions stemmed from revenge. To hurt those who hurt him, to get justice for himself. These were no excuses, but reasons as to why.

Aether should never forgive Scaramouche for what he’s done. Perhaps he never will.
But as long as he was alive, he could still atone for his sins. And make sure that neither he nor anyone else could ever repeat them.

“Balladeer?” Came from Aether’s small, worried voice. His hands shook when he touched the man. There was no blood… but that made sense. A puppet didn’t bleed after all, did it?

Aether lifted Scaramouche’s head gently, placing it in his lap. “You’re not dead, are you…?” If he was, he would have faded by now. But then why wouldn’t he wake up? He gave him another little shake, but there was no response.

If Scaramouche could lay still for long enough, maybe they would leave him here. Now that Kusanali had the gnosis, there was no reason for him to continue living. It became clearer why Scaramouche had been tossed at creation. He was insignificant and weak. His head turned away from Aether upon finally losing consciousness.

-

It took months for Scaramouche to finally open his eyes again. When he did, he was tied down with weights and ice. This was to be expected after all he had done, and how he had lost. Still, his first instinct was to try and break free from his restraints, which was… surprisingly easy? What turned out to be restraining him was a heavy, cozy blanket, and the ice was a chilled cloth wrapped around a mist flower.

He pulled the blankets off of his legs after he sat up. Moving them after being idle for so long was hard and slow. His joints made strange grinding noises and were sore from just pullings his legs up. Would he even be able to stand up at this rate?

It turned out Scaramouche didn’t have to worry about that. Before he could find out, a voice came from his side.

“You’re up.”

He tilted his head to where the voice came from. It was the traveler. The blonde wondrous hero of Teyvat. How pleasant. The balladeer’s eyes narrowed and he scowled at him.

“I have no intention to talk to you. Or stay wherever this place is.”

To ease his searing joints, Scaramouche gently rubbed at his shoulders and elbows. He wondered how long he had been here for to make his body so inflamed. At the same time, he barely remembered the fall. Or when he landed on the ground before anyone could get to him.

Scaramouche made an attempt to get up, and it seemed Aether already knew what the outcome was going to be because he rushed to the man’s side before he could collapse under his own weight.

“Easy. Easy..” The traveler slowly eased Scaramouche back down onto the futon. “You… you sustained a lot of damage from your fall…” He explained, grabbing the cloth with the mist flower and rolling it back up to press to his patient’s head.

However, Scaramouche smacked Aether’s wrist away before he could touch him. “Fall? What fall? You can’t keep me here.” The words came easy, despite how tempting it was to just lay back down.. For the sake of stubbornness, he stayed upright. Where… where even was he?

The knight’s brow furrowed. This was… concerning. “You… don’t remember the fall?”

Scaramouche slowly shook his head in response. He had been so lost in his mind that he must have blacked out before he even fell from the vessel. He would never want to be conscious to witness his own downfall. “No. And frankly… I’d rather not be reminded.”

With that, Scaramouche laid back down and turned his back to Aether, no matter how painful moving was. Aether had his heart in the right place, but… he was destined to die.

Aether gave a sad frown as he watched the balladeer turn his back. He reached for the blanket and pulled it back over the boy’s shoulders, but he wasn’t sure if the makeshift ice pack would stay balanced on his forehead like this. Instead, he held it against it for him.

This didn’t please Scaramouche either, however. “Stop that. I don’t need your pity.” Honestly, if he was a dog, he would be biting.

“I’m not pitying you, I’m taking care of you.” Aether replied, scoffing.

“Well I don’t need that either!”

Silence fell between them. Aether’s good intentions went to waste on this man, and it made him wonder if he was making the right decision. He slowly got to his feet and backed away, letting him be for now.

Thankfully the place they were in was guarded well. Even if Scaramouche managed to leave this room, he would be met with invisible walls keeping him within a radius of a short walking distance. And even if Aether wasn’t there, there was another set of eyes keeping watch.

Kazuha liked to come here for the serenity. It was a lovely secluded spot in all of Teyvat combined with the perfect climate for his favourite greenery to grow. Aether deliberately hadn’t told the anemo user that the fucking balladeer was staying in the residence.

The same balladeer that was responsible for the vision decree hunt. The same balladeer that was responsible for the extinction of the Kaedehara clan.

So Aether was pretty sure if their paths were to cross, bloodshed would be inevitable. It was going to be difficult to keep them apart if Kazuha learned just who was sleeping in the room just at the end of the hall.

-

Every day, around the same times, a fresh meal was brought to Scaramouche. Aether would be the one bringing in the plate, and taking back the finished dish which often varied in content still left on the platter. Most of the time, more than half if not all of the meal was finished. Other times the food hadn't been touched at all, or only barely.

Usually, Aether would stay for a while to try and stir up conversation. Not that Scaramouche was much of a conversationalist. Until the question rose.

“What are you going to do from here on out?”

Because staying in this chamber for the rest of his life was not an option. Neither was going back to his old ways… Aether wondered if he was ever going to get a reaction out of the puppet, but he didn’t have to think about that for much longer.

There wasn’t much of a sound, because the balladeer hadn’t spoken in days so his vocal cords must've needed to be put back into gear before he could properly use them, but he could faintly make out the word, “nothing.”

It was his plan to stay here, or at least in one place, and rot away until the end of his days. There was no reason to do anything anymore. He had no place in his old life and even if he did, he wanted nothing to do with it anymore. What else should he do? Was there anywhere he could stay that would have him..? Granted, Aether would kick him out of here one of these days. Right?

The opposite was true, however. Aether gave a sad sigh and began to frown. He sank to his knees and lifted his head to gently look at him. “What if we go for a walk?”

“And get shot on sight?” Scaramouche spat, the idea almost excited him. But if he were to die a painless death, it wouldn’t make up for all the hurt he caused. So with a sigh he turned to rest on his back instead of on his side.

“There’s nobody here.” Aether reassured. “You should stretch your legs. It’s bad for your body to stay stuck in one place for too long.” He smiled at him, as if they were friends. There was not an inch of malice in his expression to be found. Maybe the traveler really wanted to make friends with this poor boy… Or maybe he was just really good at hiding his motives.

Scaramouche turned his eyes to meet Aether’s, before he broke the contact again and stared up at the ceiling, his face dull. He had a feeling that whether he accepted or declined, he was going on this walk if he liked it or not.

“Sure.”

He slowly sat up and dropped his hands in his lap. The back of his hair was starting to get slightly matted from how long he had been here, writhing around and creating static electricity. Even just that motion tired him out and made him dizzy, so how was he supposed to go on a walk?

Aether was patient.

He waited by his side and helped Scaramouche move and bent his legs for the first time in forever, until it became apparent that he could get up. The knight extended his hand for the balladeer to take to pull him to his feet, but of course Scaramouche wanted to try it himself first.

Should he have known that his body was going to give out? Probably. But even now he  needed to prove that he was above everyone. Even if there was nobody to listen.

Scaramouche fell back with a grunt, and even then still refused Aether’s hand. He didn’t remember when he got up on his feet, but he did see who was the one who got him there. Both of the traveler’s hands were around the balladeer’s upper arm and he donned a sheepish smile.

“Shall we go?”

“Let the hell go of me.”

-

Now Scaramouche could finally try and piece together where he had been residing. How in the world had the traveler brought him out of Sumeru city, so much closer to Liyue? At least they were still secluded, farther away from the big city and this was actually.. a very pretty place. Not a place that Scaramouche had paid much attention to before.

Their walk was silent for a while. Aether’s intention was to get Scaramouche to get some sun, but if they could talk that would just be a bonus. Of course he couldn’t force him to, but if he could coax him in the right direction..

To start with, Aether asked a simple question. “What do you think of this place?”

There was a lot to say about Liyue. He had been sent on commissions there for years now, and yet he never stopped to look at the scenery here. There wasn’t much that he really admired about it- he didn’t have a knack for flowers or bugs, sure he liked animals but not more than the average person.

There was someone else that did. Someone who was also there at the same time.

“It’s not bad.” Scaramouche finally replied, earning a scoff from Aether.

“Not bad? Come on. It’s pretty here.” The blonde responded, stretching his arms behind his neck. These were not the kinds of things Scaramouche found pretty, though. Though born in Inazuma, Sumeru felt more like his home. If he had to pick something for Aether as a reply, it would be… the rukkhashava mushrooms.

Their color was something he could stare at for hours. There was nothing he could compare it to. He often found himself knelt down to one just to inspect what made it stand out from the others of its kind.

“You’re thinking about something.”

“Is there really no room for peace and quiet around here?” Scaramouche sighed deeply, shaking his head. There was a light grin on his face though- it was amusing to see Aether try so hard when there was obviously no hope. He wondered how long it would be until someone came for his life. Perhaps a certain Fatui member, or Lesser Lord Kusanali herself.

He didn’t have to wait to figure that out.

The path finally ended and led them to a bridge. A small wooden crossover with rope netting at the sides to keep them from falling off. At the other side of the bridge stood a man.

Scaramouche recognized him immediately. How was he… alive? Hadn’t it been years? His eyes widened at the sight of him and his mechanical heart seemed to stop for a beat. He looked so young. Never did Scaramouche think he’d see him again.

The moment their eyes met seemed to stretch on, frozen in time just as they were frozen in place.. The looks on their faces were all different. One angry, one shocked, one fearful.

Scaramouche slowly rose his hand. Not to wave, but to reach out to him. While he already felt that this was going to take a turn for the worse, he couldn’t help but be curious about his former companion’s reaction to his appearance. “Katsuragi..?”

From the corner of Scaramouche’s eye, he could see Aether take a step forward. “Kazuha..!” The traveler exclaimed, faux excitement in his voice. Had it been any other situation he really would have been thrilled to see him, but this was… absolutely wrong place, wrong time.

It was.. almost like a strange game of hide and seek. Except Scaramouche wasn’t hidden, and Kazuha wasn’t seeking. And yet he could feel that same anticipation as if they really were playing a game, only that the outcome would be quite unlike a child shouting "Found you!" and scurrying off giggling.

Instead, Kazuha charged at Scaramouche with full speed. Though he wore his sword, he didn’t even think of using it through his blinding, unbridled rage. He clenched his fist and dove for The Balladeer, punching him straight in the jaw.

Scaramouche wished he got knocked out immediately. He didn’t fight back – it wouldn’t be fair. If Kazuha wanted to kill him, it was his right. Not as much as a grunt in pain came from him as he got the living daylights beaten out of him.

It took a moment for the traveler to react. He knew this would be inevitable and he should have seen this coming, and that’s why he hesitated. Knowing his past, it made sense for him to be angry. More than angry. So he didn’t want to stop him, as he wanted to grant him at least a bit of satisfaction. If The Balladeer could survive a drop from that height, he could survive a couple of blows.

Only when Kazura drew his sword, that was when Aether stepped in. Scaramouche felt the weight being forcibly dragged off of him, followed by an enraged shout of “ How dare you?! ”

As Scaramouche pushed himself up to his elbows, there was a hot liquid dripping down his cheek. Once he wiped it, he could identify what it was. Blood.

Blood?

Scaramouche was a puppet. A vessel created to hold the gnosis, much like Rex Lapis had one to carry his own. He was sentient and aware, but he was not human. So what was it that made him bleed..? Was he not only rejected, but also reduced to a human?

There’s a verbal fight between the two anemo users, but Scaramouche wasn’t  listening. He was far too invested in the fact that he was actually bleeding, shocked and confused. Not even a god’s will would have been able to drag his eyes away from the sight.

Until Aether shook him violently to get him out of his trance.

“Go back to the house. Now.”

He wasn’t given any time to process the words, as he was pulled to his feet by the knight and shoved into the direction of his current abode. The balladeer stumbled for a while in a heavily confused state, and when he looked over his shoulders he could see the man he called Katsuragi and the man who saved him fighting. Over him. Over the hurt that he caused and could never make up for.

Before he realized it, Scaramouche was back inside. Done as he was told- following someone else’s orders. Mindlessly. Something he had wanted the entire world to do for him. This was his divine punishment for sure. Becoming something he despised to be.

It was a simple room he had been residing in. A bed, a dresser, a table and some chairs. Nothing luxurious. The only way Scaramouche could look at himself was in the reflection of the window. There, he could see the cuts and bruises on his face, though very vaguely. Still, it was there. It wasn’t an illusion or a dream.

He was bleeding.

His face fell, and he looked away from the window. The world around him seemed to go grey, and he lifelessly made his way back into his futon. This was the eternity he deserved- forever repenting for his sins.

-

Days passed. Nobody came to see Scaramouche anymore. Not to talk at least, though there were still meals being brought to him and retrieved but not by the same people anymore. A man by an unknown name silently came and went to bring his food, but did no more than that. The curtains stayed closed, the sheets remained unchanged.

Only one time did Scaramouche see his face. A young man with wine red hair that he didn’t recognize. It must be a friend of Aether’s that was dumb enough to take care of a withered puppet like him.

What else was he supposed to do but waste away? How was he supposed to spend the rest of his days until he was ultimately killed?

Scaramouche expected to see the same man until he passed. Katsuragi must have convinced Aether to give up on him. It didn’t surprise him. The man, after learning his name to be Heizou, didn’t quite treat him as kind as the other.

“You should not have been left alive. If it were up to me, you’d be dead already.”

Those were the first words he heard from him. How kind.

“Won’t you do it, then?” Scaramouche replied, not once moving from his position. The cycle had restarted- staying in one place, like a tossed puppet that a child was done playing with. His body had no use so why keep it maintained? Why move his joints when he was never going to use them again?

Heizou scoffed in reply, and shook his head. He had thought of it. To do Kazuha a favor, and spare Aether the gory sight. There was a reason he didn’t, though.

“This is not my fight.”

He answered, taking the plate he had brought him before. “You waste this food by not eating it. You disrespect the chef and those who foolishly have hope for you.” He snarled. “You have been given a chance that filth like you doesn't deserve. Second chances like this only come around once in a blue moon, you know. You should be more grateful.”

Scaramouche had nothing to say to that. Because Heizou was right.

“Either take this chance, or get out of our sights.” With that, the man turned and left. If Scaramouche didn’t even have the decency to finish the food that was created with love and effort, he would.

Thankfully he did leave something else behind for Scaramouche.

Food for thought.

-

“Will you help me brush my hair?”

Scaramouche extended a hand with a wide tooth comb out to Aether. Recently, he had been making more of an effort to repent. Instead of letting it all come to him, Heizou’s words resonated with him to put himself into action. It shouldn’t have taken an insult from someone to make him realize what path he should take, now that the road to deification had been blocked off.

There were people that still had hope for him. Not the kind of hope that Scaramouche wished for, but they supported him nonetheless. He had to pay the price for his sins, not just wash them away.

“What?”

Aether replied with a confused frown. Not that he turned the idea down, but he hadn’t expected Scaramouche to want help with anything. He had only come to bring him a meal, and wasn't prepared for anything else.

He took the brush in his hand and replied with a hesitant smile. “Your hair is very tangled. I’m afraid to hurt you.” Though the puppet had short hair, it seemed like it had grown since the first day he resided here. Because of that it had started to get matted, and Aether was far from a hairdresser.

The balladeer shrugged in response, and shook his head. “That would be my own fault. I didn’t care for it, so that is the consequence of my actions.” It started to become a more graspable concept to him. Even with small things now. But bit by bit he was starting to understand.

Aether couldn’t contain how proud he felt upon hearing those words. As he grew a smile, he nodded and murmured, “Of course I’ll help.”

The knight knew a thing or two about hair care, because his own was so long. He had had it tangled a couple times before so he was sure he could do something about Scaramouche’s short hair. The shorter male crossed his legs and scooted forward for Aether to sit behind him, resting his hands on his knees. To begin with, he started combing out the bottom.

Scaramouche’s head got pulled back a few times every time Aether brought the brush through his hair. Despite that, he didn’t do as much as flinch. He was used to the pain, and had gotten slightly more numb to it every time it happened. It wasn’t enjoyable though.

A silence fell upon them for a while. All that could be heard was the plastic of the brush detangling Scaramouche’s hair. That was, until Aether spoke up.

“I had a long talk with Kazuha. About you.”

“I suspected as much.” Scaramouche replied, dropping his hands in his lap. “What did he have to say?”

Aether took a long breath before he answered. “First he asked me why you were here. And… It took me days to explain everything to him. That’s why I was gone for so long, I hope Heizou didn’t bother you much.”

Scaramouche hummed to dismiss it, as he couldn’t exactly shake his head right now. “Not necessarily. But if he did, it would be deserved.” He shut his eyes, his nose scrunched up only slightly when the brush hit a deep tangle. “He did make me go without food once. I don’t think you asked him to do that.” He brought the announcement with a slight chuckle.

“It was alright, though. I don’t necessarily have a need for food.”

It still made the blonde frown though. “Definitely didn’t ask him to do that… did you provoke him?”

“What do you take me for?” Scaramouche teased back, his smile increasing into a smirk. “No. I don’t think I did, anyways.”

The silence returned. Scaramouche shut his eyes to try and disperse his focus. Had Aether planned for him to run into Kazuha? What happened to that name, anyway?

“Kazuha… is from the Kaedehara clan, is he not?”

Aether figured this question would come. He put the comb down and thought about how to answer. “He was pretty pissed off when you called him Katsuragi. He is… a descendant of the blacksmith Katsuragi.” He explained, tucking a bit of his own hair behind his ear. “So… for you to call out to him like he was your friend made him angry enough to attack you.”

“That’s the thing. I used to be friends wit-”

“I know. I have lived through your memories. I know it all.” Aether cut him off, to which Scaramouche bowed his head. “That’s why I didn’t feel right letting you die. Knowing you had… a good heart.”

“My heart is fake.”

“Your heart may be, but your mind is not.”

Scaramouche looked behind him, his eyes meeting Aether’s smile. He looked at him with such peace that it reminded him of Niwa. “...Those words almost make you sound like a friend who actually cares.”

That made Aether breathe out a small laugh, and he picked the brush back up again. “Turn.” He ordered then, putting his hands on either side of Scaramouche’s head and turning it back to look straight ahead. “I know there is good in you, Scaramouche. You have always wanted to be, but life dealt you a bad hand and this is where you ended up.

All you needed was a friend to pick you back up.”

Scaramouche pressed his lips, feeling them quiver. The back of his eyes stung and he couldn’t understand why he felt this way. After all these years, the threads of fate made him dance around like a puppet. But now he grew, bled, and cried like a human. Could it be that there was still some part of him that wanted to live? Continue on with a clean slate and a new life?

“Friends do not stay. They change their minds, or die. I cannot see myself making another friend.” He replied shakily, unable to grasp why he was upset with the way Aether spoke to him. It was so gentle. Unlike he had been spoken to the most of his life. “I would just be setting myself up to get hurt. I’d be a fool to let that happen.”

The traveler started to get through most of the knots in his hair. “I don’t think you are. You are just afraid to be abandoned again.”

That earned Aether a snort. “Hah.. I’m just a… poor boy. I need no sympathy.” Scaramouche replied, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

“You say that now.” Aether started, putting down the brush as most of his hair became untangled and he could probably leave it like this without much issue. Now that he had his hands empty, he wrapped them around Scaramouche from the back. “But your heart is in the right place. And I know that there is still a way for you.”

Those were the words that made Scaramouche’s tears spill over.

-

Blue had always been a special color in his heart.

It had taken some time, but now Scaramouche had completely abandoned his previous life. He had been given the chance to start anew. Much like the Rukkhashava mushrooms he admired so much, he dressed himself in the same color palette of those he admired so much.

There was one thing he could not go without, though, and because of that he had a new hat made. It could still hide his face and shield him from the wrath of those he wronged. But he was not that person anymore.

If anyone had expected that change, it would surely not have been Kazuha. The younger had been preparing to watch him rot in that room like he initially wanted to. But to see him with new apparel and a new expression, wasn’t something he was quite opposed to.

After Aether had told him all about Scaramouche’s story, he had made it very clear; he would never forgive him for all that he had done, even if he begged on his knees. And Aether didn’t expect that of him. He wouldn’t even ask him not to kill Scaramouche. But the both of them shared the same sentiment and way of thinking. Kazuha didn’t need to be convinced of anything. In fact, Aether didn’t even know he was standing before him right now. There was something he wanted to talk to him about in private.

Standing eye to eye just like they had before, Scaramouche offered a sad smile. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”

“I initially didn’t plan on it.” Kazuha pulled up a chair, and pushed the other opposite of him with his foot out for Scaramouche to sit. He followed on the non-verbal cue and sat down to have this conversation. Secretly he had dwelled on it, and practiced what to say in his head. He had never done that before in his life. Everything had always come so naturally.

Kazuha repeated the question that set Scaramouche’s redemption into motion. “What are you going to do from here on out?”

Before, Scaramouche did not have an answer. But now, after the days he spent here and with the help of those that showed him a different world, he could confidently answer this question. “I will make peace with what happened, and repent for my sins.”

To Kazuha it seemed like a practiced answer. And in a way it was. But there was a sense of determination in Scaramouche’s eyes that was very hard to manipulate. “I want to make sure you understand this.” He clasped his hands and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“If we ever cross paths again, and you aren’t sticking to what you just told me? I will make sure you’ll wish you’d never been born at all.” For once, Scaramouche took a threat to heart. If he couldn’t make things work with Katsuragi, he would try his damndest to make peace with his descendants.

He gave a silent nod. Kazuha deserved Scaramouche’s promise, if anyone did it would be him. There were people depending on him now not to go back on his word.

“You won’t even have to worry about that.” Scaramouche whispered back. Over the years he had learned how to lie like a pro, and how to use his body language to support that. However, this time he also knew how to use the same skill to support his truthful words.

Kazuha broke eye contact with the former balladeer, dropping one hand off the table and resting it by his leg. “Don’t use that tone with me.” He ordered. “I can’t forgive you for what you’ve done. And I don’t believe I will. But I want to see the best in you.” He couldn’t just ignore what Scaramouche had been through for him to turn out this way. With how Aether spoke about him, how Scaramouche finally showed the emotion he swore to eradicate, Kazuha knew he could change. Perhaps he should root for him.

“The story of the betrayal my ancestors went through feels so distant when I see you like this.” Kazuha explained, sitting back and sighing. “You are not The Balladeer anymore. But you still did commit those crimes. And I can’t see you as anyone else just yet. Even if you rejected your identity, and took on a new one. I need to see you make it happen first. You know what will happen if you don’t.”

Despite Kazuha having looked away, Scaramouche’s eyes didn’t move from the man’s face. He looked so much like his great grandfather. Something in the back of his mind told him he had to take him under his wing to honor Katsuragi. “I know what will happen.” He answered.

Kazuha fumbled with something under the table, before he looked back up at him. “Perhaps in the future we can be friends.” He murmured, unclipping something from his uniform. “In the meantime, I want you to have this.”

A small glass vessel was placed in front of Scaramouche on the table. A vision.

“If I see you aren’t taking care of it as much as I want you to, I will not hesitate to take it back. And leave you with nothing.” Kazuha threatened again, though he didn’t sound as angry as before.

Scaramouche’s eyes went wide at the sight of it. Out of all people, Kazuha was giving him this? His hand mindlessly went out to take it, and he accepted it with grace. Apart from the one instance with Aether, he hadn’t cried in years. Now he was almost crying twice in a short amount of time.

“I will not let you down.” He whispered, his voice filled with emotion. Nor would he question where Kazuha got this, in case it would be taken as a sign of resistance and he’d take it from him immediately.

Kazuha stood after that, his fingers lingering on the table. He was partially faced away from Scaramouche, but he could still see about a quarter of his face. “Good.” He answered, before finally smiling down at him. “I will see you again.”

When the dawn of the next day breaks, Scaramouche has found a spot for his vision to hang. He adjusted his hat so the sun wouldn’t shine directly in his eyes but he could still look upon the ever changing Liyue.

The journey of the Wanderer had finally begun, on his path to redemption.

And he will follow it, any way the wind blows.