The Reason Men Cry

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What does it take for a man to cry?

The death of his child? Yes.

The infidelity of his lover? Yes.


The Fatui campsite was losing its members quickly. Half of them left for other missions across the nation. A quarter of them went with Harbinger Childe to prepare to battle for Rex Lapis' Gnosis. The other poor, leftover recruits, sergeants, and lieutenants were outside, scrambling to save anyone or any valuable items still trapped inside a burning tent.

Red, orange, and yellow gleamed in Scaramouche's eyes as he stared emotionlessly at the growing fire he caused. Heat from the blazing inferno caused beads of sweat to form and slide down the young man's face, he didn't seem to care about his appearance. Not even the searing hot pain shooting from his hands up his arms made him wince the slightest, those injuries would be quite difficult to heal. He didn't care.

Smoke filled everyone's nose, even choked and blinded some with their tears. This agonizing warmth invading the air was enough to make the soldiers shiver in fear, it was just intolerable to stand back and watch countless Fatui properties getting destroyed. They knew that someone needed to speak up, but who was willing to die for going against a Harbinger?

Once again, Scaramouche was told the bad news of another failed mission. He couldn't help but snap into a million pieces when he heard that Fatui Agent Kliment was rushed into the infirmary ward, a tent filled with Hydrogunner Legionnaires. Major blood loss. Multiple stab wounds deep enough to fit a claymore.

The Harbinger couldn't believe it. He really thought that that plan would work. He put all his faith in Kliment's success. Scaramouche was so confident of your return that he prepared you a gift, brand new spray guns. He figured your weapons were filthy with blood, he could tell because he was told how brutally you killed that Cicin Mage. He knows how upset you get when your guns are dirty for a long period of time.

Without your proper cleaning materials, it was bound to have some stains remaining. Scaramouche would have presented the new spray guns as an apology, a way into your heart. He wanted you to discard that weapon you pointed at him and have it replaced, like those events never happened.

But, you didn't come back. Can you imagine the embarrassment, shame, and resentment Scaramouche must have felt? A wrapped box with your name on it was left alone, unopened in his tent, hidden under a table - burning away. It was a slap in the face. Kick to the gut. Knife in the back.

How did this fire happen? Scaramouche had trouble remembering. He looked at his partially charred hands and thought deeply about the prior events. All he could recall was pacing around his tent, impatiently waiting for Fatui Agent Kliment's arrival.

When he did return back to camp, Kliment was on his last breath, on the verge of death. Turns out, he didn't stop to tend to his injuries even once. He escaped from Liyue Harbour and made the dreaded journey all the way back here, with no breaks. It was already late into the night. He took until nightfall. Another twelve hours added onto the other thirty-six. The bounty was now four million Mora.

When the group of remaining members started to grow louder with overlapping conversations, Scaramouche decided to step outside his tent and summon everyone. They heard the Harbinger's roll-call and marched over right away, lining up and saluting respectfully.

"Soldiers, any news?"

One of the recruits was forced to answer after being pushed around, "No sir... Kliment was not successful, we got nothing."

Dirty, Little, Traitor [Scaramouche x Reader] Genshin ImpactWhere stories live. Discover now