MEMORY. | chiscara

One

On one of many december mornings, while the sun hadn't yet risen, the building of the Fatui agency started livening up.

The Fatui was a cleaning agency, created specifically for cleaning crime scenes ranging from robbery to kidnapping and murder. They were the most trusted affiliation when it came to crime scene cleaning, seeing as how the agency dated all the way back to the 16th century when homicide of any degree was declared legal.

The same law that had been set in stone lowered the crime rate by a big percentage in Teyvat. Even though it is still seen as controversial and a taboo topic to talk about, most people have accepted it. The only reason as to why it was so majorly accepted was due to the fact that not everybody could clean a crime scene nor had the money to do so - this is where the Fatui came in, offering their services at alarmingly high prices for the wealthy.

Matter of fact, it didn't matter who or what you were, as long as you had the money you were set on successfully committing homicide.

An agency like The Fatui does anything and everything to get perfect results.

-"Have you met him yet?"

The sound of lacquered heels clicking against the tiled marble floor of the Fatuis reception as well as the sound of papers shuffling were heard as two colleagues walked together.

-"No. I don't understand why I have to work with a delinquent, do I look like a fucking babysitter?" the shorter male sounded out, huffing and puffing.

-"It's cause you're a senior, Scara, you're trusted with this stuff," the tall blonde lady, Signora, replied, "besides, I heard he's actually good at what he does"

-"So? I don't care if he's good or bad at his job, I don't want a kid flying around me all day long" Scaramouche blew at his bangs.

Signora laughed briefly, shaking her head.

-"He's not a kid you know, you're only 2 years older than him" Signora said as she threw a glance at the annoyed man.

Scaramouche stayed silent as they reached the meeting room of the Fatui "harbingers".

The harbingers were basically the seniors and bosses of all the other Fatui employees, each harbinger being the manager of certain departments. They had the most power over anyone, which scared the employees as there was 11 of them and all of them were, to say the least, crazy. And intimidating, some more than the others of course though the aura around them was undeniable.

Signora pushed the wide door open, seeing almost all of the harbingers sat at the long table that stood in the middle of the large room.

Scaramouche fixed his bangs as well as his name tag as Signora led the way to their usual seat, greeting their fellow colleagues.

-"Where's Arlecchino?" Signora asked a short dark haired girl dressed in a white dress and loafers.

-"With the child" she flashed her usual smile which closed her eyes entirely, turning them into two crescents.

As the said girl, Columbina her name, finished her sentence the door opened up once again and in walked a black and white haired lady, dressed in a three piece suit and an incredibly tall ginger haired guy in dark pants and a red button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The lady had a resting bitch face, tho the moment she saw Columbina she smiled and walked over to her, taking a seat after saying a few words to the ginger man.

Signora poked Scaramouches elbow with her own, very obviously grinning and even winking at the indigo haired guy. He puckered his lips a bit and scrunched his nose in disgust before glancing at the ginger who stood awkwardly before taking a seat where he was told to do so.

-"He's actually kind of cute" Signora whispered to her indigo colleague, while taking a sip of the coffee that had been waiting for her.

Once again, Scaramouche stayed silent. He refused to admit it, but he agreed sith her statement. The ginger wasn't too bad - tall, freckled and scarred all over, and though it wasn't visible through all the clothes he wore it was clear by his exposed forearms and wide shoulders that he was decently muscular.

Only off-putting thing about the new guy was his gaze, or more specifically his eyes. So lifeless, it was almost concerning, and Scaramouche felt his stomach churn at the sight of him. He couldn't tell if he enjoyed the feeling or not.

-"So to start off, this meeting is going to have to be cut a bit short because of a job we got," a long dark haired man with sleek glasses started, his gaze fixed on the document in front of him, "and by we I mean Dottore and I" he smiled.

Scaramouche (as well as everybody else in the room) kept his eyes on the man who was talking. Pantalone was his name, he was one of the older harbingers. Despite that fact, he was actually always a very understanding person and for a boss he wasn't a nitpicker.

The indigo man massaged his own neck, accidentally turning his head towards the ginger and making eye contact with him. He felt his ears burn when his purple eyes locked in with the other's blue ones. Why was he looking at him?

It felt unusal, borderline uncomfortable and surprisingly good.

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed for a moment as if he had a short migraine before reverting his gaze back to Pantalone who had already begun talking about the cause of the meeting.

-"As I said, I'm assigning Tartaglia with Scaramouche," the man said, exchanging a look between the both of them, "and I better not hear protesting from the either of you."

-"I assure you, sir, you won't" Tartaglia, the ginger, said with a smile before looking back to Scaramouche once again.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes and exhaled, looking at Tartaglia.

Tartaglia had a lopsided smile, one dimple more prominent than the other. The indigo man felt a fog in his throat at his attractive smile and found himself toying with his silver labret piercing.

-"That's what I like to hear," Pantalone started, "Scaramouche, this is yours"

Pantalone handed him a black cardboard file with the word "classified" written on it in a grey square. Tartaglia observed the mans movements as Scaramouche took it from the older mans boney hand adorned with black rings.

-"Thanks" Scaramouche said curtly.

After a few more short sentences from Pantalone and a few words from the familiar colleagues, the meeting was over and everybody collected their papers and potential coffee mugs. Everybody collectively left the room in chatter, Scaramouche following beside Signora trying his best not to have another encounter of accidental eye contact with the new ginger. But alas, the ginger caught up to the shorter man.

-"Hey, I know we haven't met yet but seeing how we're assigned together now, I thought it might be best to get to know each other"

Scaramouches eyebrows furrowed in annoyance causing a crease to form between them, a disruptance in his perfect porcelain skin.

Before he could even open his mouth, Signora cleared her throat with an assertive tone as she looked at the expensive watch on her wrist. Scaramouche understood everything she didn't say.

-"Right, well, I'm Scaramouche" he said.

-"Great! I mean I already knew that," he snickered, "would you be willing to grab a coffee with me some time?"

-"Why the f-"

-"He would love to!" Signora interrupted the shorter man whilst placing an arm around his shoulders.

-"What she said" Scaramouche added.

-"Okay, then I'll be seeing you around" Tartaglia said, smiling, then turned around and went on with his business.

Signora and Scaramouche waited a bit, watching the ginger haired man walk away in silence.

-"Are you fucking kidding me?"

-"What? I mean you're welcome" Signora said, smiling deviously.

-"I really hate you sometimes" the man reverted with a blush forming on his face to which she simply chuckled at.