Scaramouche examined himself in the bathroom mirror, paying closer attention to the area around his nose. Once he ascertained that there was no serious damage, he washed his face and wiped it dry with a towel and hung it around his neck while he stepped into the living area of his penthouse. He collapsed into the couch, lying on his back, facing into the dark ceiling.
The argument with Kazuha looped in his mind. He analysed the things that he said to Kazuha, and then went over the things Kazuha said to him, and then analysed everything again. Only the one who knew him so truly could leave equally deep wounds on his heart with nothing but words. Verbal spars with Kazuha were non-existent during their time together those many years ago. The displeasures would simply suffocate, left to ferment and fester into a bitter hate.
A raging tempest fogged his mind, but unusually calm was his heart, like drifting waves that danced on the sea.
Scaramouche had often wondered who was Kazuha, that could linger eternally in his mind. He had done everything that his position of power had allowed, in the pursuit to erase Kazuha from his memory. But no drug was more potent, than the intoxication of stealing a kiss from Kazuha. No alcohol was more fragrant or more warm, than having Kazuha wrapped in his embrace. No forms of sex were more arousing, than having Kazuha satisfy more than his lust for flesh.
How careless was he, to let his hubris obscure the lesson of his childhood: that material riches could never substitute the gaping emptiness he inherited since birth.
The sore on his face seemed inconsequential compared to the ache he just noticed in his heart. He hated that he loved Kazuha so much, but he hated himself even more for not admitting it.
His phone rang, and he grudgingly turned over to pick it up. It was only when a drop of tear slid from the corner of his eye, that he realised that his eyes were wet. He dried them with the towel and answered the phone.
"What is it?"
He listened to the voice on the other side. It was a call that he had been expecting since learning that Kazuha spied on his phone. He pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes and exhaled deeply.
"Bring him in, unharmed."
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Rosaria arrived at the front of Kazuha's apartment building, and her cigarette had finished just in time. She took the elevator to his floor and treaded to his unit and rang the doorbell. She heard faint footsteps approach from inside, followed by a moment of silence. Then the sound of the locks being undone preceded the door swinging open.
A thin, shriveled version of Kazuha greeted her, and she stepped inside. The place was ill lit, and a thick odour of tobacco wafted into her nose. Kazuha brushed pass her to return to the living room, sitting in the middle of a nest of clutter than he had created on the floor, with the light of his laptop reflecting off his weary countenance.
"I feel like I'm staring in a mirror." Rosaria quipped.
Kazuha gave no reply. He just continued his work on the screen.
"You're still going to work on the story?" Rosaria asked.
"Albedo hasn't replied in four days. I tried to reach him, but somehow, I couldn't. If you don't know where he is, then I'll just have to assume the worst."
"Is that how long it's been since you left the house?"
"I'm going to publish it, Rosaria. With or without Albedo."
"If they can get to you and Albedo, don't you think they can just as easily take it down, Kaedehara?"
"I'm sending a copy to everyone I know in the field. They can try to stop me, but they can't stop everyone of us."
"Maybe we should focus on looking for Albedo, perhaps he has-"
"There's no time for that!"
Kazuha stopped typing and put his fingers to his temples.
"Every minute I waste is a minute for them to use against me. This... has to end now, Rosaria. I'm tired. The web of lies. The torment. It all came crashing down in a flash of light, like a glow of lightning, and all I could do was let it course through me."
Kazuha hid his face in his palms, then uncovered them and gazed into the blank space in front of him.
"Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still see their faces. Tomo, Ayaka, and Ayato. I know that wallowing in despair for the past serves no purpose. I know that it's impossible to foresee the destination of a path never taken. But all these years I've still let it consume me, never ceasing to wonder how things could have been different if I had done something, just a bit sooner."
Rosaria stood over Kazuha, then brought herself down to his altitude.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Kazuha? You know there's no turning back if you proceed with it."
Kazuha lifted his gaze to the ceiling. His head hung back and his long platinum hair unleashed into a curtain behind him.
"My fate had been sealed, long before this."
Rosaria looked down to the ground, and let a small sigh slip through.
"I'm sorry, Kazuha."
Kazuha felt a sharp pain, followed by a tensed strain in the side in his neck. He staggered backwards while turning to Rosaria, with one of his hand clasped to where the sensation was.
Rosaria rose from her crouching position, holding a syringe in her hand.
"Wha- What did you do to me?"
"Sleep, Kaedehara. You need it."
Kazuha began to feel faint, the room spun and then continued to spin faster. Kazuha gravitated backwards to the floor until he fell onto it. He watched Rosaria collect his laptop after she put the injection away. His vision blurred, and his eyes started to shut slowly, until he tumbled into a forced slumber.
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Music: Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven
YOU ARE READING
The Vagrant and the Wanderer || (Scaramouche x Kazuha) || Genshin Impact
Fanfiction"There was no stain on his soul that the cold river waters could not wash. There was no phantom in his mind that the wind could not carry. There was no bruise in his heart, given by the boy with velvet hair, that the sun could not kiss away." Kazuha...
