𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 ; 𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚 . ◈

talk

It's a small fortune, as it turns out, and he can't help but feel that he's maybe being cheated out of its true value as the vendor sees him off with a grin.

He stuffs it into his pocket before Childe can even open his mouth to speak, and it stays there innocently long after he returns to Inazuma, the weight of it growing increasingly heavy the longer he keeps it hidden.

He's honestly not even sure why he's hiding it--it's not a big deal. It's a leaf, and all he has to do is hand said leaf over to Kazuha.

Except--

What would he even say?

Thanks for having a great ass, here you go --

I just found this piece of trash lying around, you want it?--

Or maybe, You implied you were homesick exactly one time at the asscrack of dawn so I sailed across an ocean and found this for you when I was supposed to be working, let's fuck now and not talk, ever.

Admittedly, Scaramouche's people-skills are not exceptional, but even he can tell that none of his rehearsed speeches are up to par. Even still, he finds himself wasting at least an hour of each day on drafting new and exciting ways to humiliate himself. As thrilling as this is, his intense periods of consideration have a tendency of forcing him into extended silence, ones that are clearly beginning to concern Kazuha.

He even stops Scaramouche at one point, tugs lightly at the back of his collar while Scaramouche is mouthing at the curve of Kazuha's neck, his face flushed pink but his eyes determined when he pulls Scaramouche away.

"Wait, ah--let's...mm..."

Scaramouche obediently allows himself to be interrupted, waits for Kazuha in a way he wouldn't have even considered doing three months ago.

"What?" he asks, somewhat impatiently, because he'd definitely come to Kazuha's room with a very specific intent in mind.

"Perhaps we should talk."

Kazuha blinks up at him expectantly, and Scaramouche silently pulls himself away, draws himself up into a sitting position on Kazuha's bed, feeling strangely like he's walking towards his own execution.

Very carefully, Kazuha pushes himself upwards, smooths out the wrinkles in his clothing with thin fingers.

"So..." Scaramouche begins, which is when the entire Resistance base trembles from the force of a nearby explosion.

Thank the Seven.

The windows nearest to them shatter, glass spraying outwards, and a murmur of sound and panic echoes from every wing of the compound, caught off-guard by the attack. Kazuha flinches at the sound of it, one hand jerking upwards to his hypersensitive ears, and Scaramouche has just enough time to pull his clothes back on before their door inevitably flies open.

"We're under attack," the soldier in the doorway informs them, incredibly unnecessarily, then comes to a silent halt when he registers that Kazuha's room does not, in fact, contain only a Kazuha.

"...thank you," Kazuha murmurs softly, from behind Scaramouche, which is good, because Scaramouche has lost all powers of speech.

Another incredibly painful moment goes by before the soldier salutes and slams the door behind him. The earth trembles again, rocked by an impact that feels much closer than before, as if to remind them of the present invasion, and Scaramouche contemplates allowing himself to be buried beneath the crumbling rock.

Instead, he slides off the bed, sweeps his hat from its perch on the ground, and straightens it on his head.

"We should go."