Dottore's greatest creation, Y/n. You were a slave to the Fatui whose sole purpose was to serve and protect your master, Scaramouche.
What happens when Dottore's product isn't so flawless after all; when a single catastrophic defect in your system...
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When was the last time you were wrapped in the embrace of another body? A time when they held you so close that you could clearly discern their pure emotions like red strings attached? Had you ever had a similar experience—being held in the arms of a stranger—in your purported past?
Unlikely, because you wouldn't have forgotten this beautiful sensation.
Kazuha, was it? His demeanour was diametrically opposed to Scaramouche's. While the former harbinger kept his ground by concealing his genuine feelings and putting on a show, the platinum blonde was more in tune with his emotions and openly expressed them to you with no shame. And rightly so. The few droplets of water dropping onto your shoulder indicated that this was a rare moment for him to uncork his bottled-up anguish and exhaustion.
But you paid no mind to that. Maybe you read too many psychology textbooks, but it was absolutely normal and evident to you that he found your shoulder to be the best place to cry on. He trusted you enough to reveal his emotional side, the challenges he had to confront over the years and the distress he had to bear alone. Kazuha was breaking on the inside.
Without scrutiny or judgement, you enabled yourself to get comfortable with the unknown act of physical consolation. You gently moved his arms, just enough to give yourself freedom to wrap your own around him, letting the boy know you were there and that everything would be alright. The transition to the new interaction was not as easy as you had hoped, but you tried your best.
It was the comfort and reassurance that eventuated inside him without you having to say a single word. He'd grown accustomed to the two of you being apart for extended periods of time due to unforeseen circumstances, but he was never prepared for the day of reconciliation. It was the reason he ground his teeth so hard they almost shattered, unable to control his irregular breathing, which suggested he was on the verge of sobbing.
Kazuha drew away from the hug after a little while but kept his gaze on your face, taking his sweet time to savour your matchless beauty. He didn't need to look at you attentively to rekindle his memories. He retained every intricate detail, every flaw that he saw as perfection. But even if he tricked himself into staring for so long—even if he tried to believe the outright lie—the truth still spoke. His eyes convinced him that you were here, the same person he had surreptitiously fallen madly in love with, but his heart told him differently.
