Thief's Heart (Kazuha x Scaramouche) - Genshin Impact

Ch. 1 Reunited

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"Scaramouche." Kazuha stared into the distance, admiring the man who was once his friend, his companion. He desperately searched for some form of familiarity in Scaramouche's face but found nothing. The cold-blooded eyes that stared back at him with malice used to glimmer with curiosity and a passion that only Kazuha had witnessed. What a lonely expression on his face, Kazuha thought to himself as he felt the air around him become heavy; his eyes began to flutter, closing in on themselves under Scaramouche's spell.

At his last wisp of consciousness, Kazuha prayed to the Archons that if there was a future for Teyvat, he wanted to be by Scaramouche's side—as a friend, a reunited traveling companion, just something. Kazuha wished he hadn't ever let go of Scaramouche's hand when he needed it the most. At the time, he was scared of what Scaramouche had already become, ignoring his pleads and desperate eyes. Maybe then, Scaramouche could've still been the same Scaramouche he once was: a fair maiden brimming with curiosity, pure and ethereal, too good for the world. He desperately wished to be able to sleep next to Scaramouche again, huddled together under a quilt in the cold, or sweating their chills out in the ponds of a foreign region. He yearned for Scaramouche's touch, how he had used to trace the edges of Kazuha's face with the tip of his finger, or how they would run back and forth across his lips—not that it had a purpose.

Kazuha hoped that in some part of Scaramouche's corrupted heart, he would remember how they used to be, laughing as the sea mist sprayed into their faces, traveling together in the long mornings and nights.

Kazuha woke up, his forehead brimming with sweat that dripped down into his eyes. He was in a dimly lit wooden room with a few candles to his left and smoking incense sticks to his right. He couldn't focus properly; it felt as if his head split into two, his temples pressuring against his skull, the area underneath his brows sore. Despite that, however, he did notice a shadowed figure sitting on the foot of his bed monitoring him, a familiar large brimmed hat hanging on the hanger near the sliding doors.

"Am I dreaming?" Kazuha muttered to himself as he winced at the raging pain in his skull. He closed his eyes temporarily, hoping that Scaramouche would say it was a dream and he would wake up, somehow back in Beidou's ship, sailing aimlessly with no purpose.

"Kazuha," Scaramouche spoke quietly, his tone a contrast from the usual scornful voice he used elsewhere Kazuha saw him. Scaramouche uncrossed his arms and sighed, taking both of Kazuha's bandaged arms into his own.  He then placed one of Kazuha's hands on his chest, right above his heart, as he sat there for a few minutes, the air bittersweet.

"Gomen," Scaramouche muttered, breaking the sliver of silence between the two. Kazuha felt the effects of whatever spell Scaramouche used on him before settling in as Scaramouche covered his eyes with his right hand. His left caressed the left side of Kazuha's face, his finger running over the surface of Kazuha's lips.

"Gomen," Scaramouche repeated, letting go of Kazuha's hands and taking his hands away from Kazuha's eyes as Kazuha laid back down again, drifting into unconsciousness. Scaramouche grabbed his hat from the hanger and tidied up his clothing. He went outside of the house, his chest heavy with a foreign feeling as he opened the door and stared at the night sky, the constellations reminding him of who he used to be.

It bothered Scaramouche—it bothered him so much—the thought was like a gnawing feeling that ate away at him to his core. Why did Kazuha care? When was the last time that he did? Why did he, Scaramouche, spend valuable time just sitting there with Kazuha while he was sleeping? How was Kazuha doing? Why was he here? Scaramouche pondered over this, arguing with himself, unable to ascertain the mixed feelings that lay within him.