KAZUSCARA / KAZUHA × SCARAMOUCHE
In a world where alphas and omegas navigate a dangerous balance of power, Kazuha, a calm and composed omega, crosses paths with Scaramouche, a sharp-tongued and prideful alpha.
‼️I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN...
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❀❃☆❃❀ ~ ❀❃☆❃❀ ~ ❀❃☆❃❀ ~ ❀❃☆❃❀
Strangers on Opposite Winds ~ Ⅳ ~
Night fell quickly in the mountains, the dense clouds obscuring the moonlight and plunging the forest into shadow. Kazuha’s movements were deliberate as he set up a modest camp beneath a cluster of ancient pines. He unfurled his bedroll on a patch of dry earth, his hands steady despite the persistent sense of unease that followed him.
The fire he built was small, just enough to provide warmth and a faint glow against the encroaching darkness. He didn’t need the flames for comfort—he found solace in the wind’s whispers, even when they carried hints of uncertainty.
As he sat cross-legged by the fire, Kazuha allowed himself a rare indulgence: a haiku composed aloud, his soft voice blending with the crackle of the flames.
“Storms chase the still winds, Paths crossing beneath the sky, Fate weaves unseen threads.”
He tilted his head slightly, his amber red eyes reflecting the flicker of the firelight. The words felt incomplete, as though they held meaning he could not yet grasp.
But before he could dwell on it further, a sharp rustle in the underbrush drew his attention.
Kazuha’s hand instinctively rested on the hilt of his blade as he turned toward the sound. His senses heightened, he listened intently for further movement, but the forest fell silent once more.
The unease that had been following him all day intensified, curling in his chest like the first stirrings of a storm.
---
Scaramouche’s sandals crushed the damp leaves underfoot as he moved through the forest with purpose. The faint glow of the firelight had caught his eye earlier, and now, as he drew closer, he felt the familiar twinge of Anemo energy in the air.
It was unmistakable. The little bird was near.
Despite his annoyance with the omega, Scaramouche couldn’t deny the thrill of the chase. Kazuha’s evasiveness only made him more determined to close the distance between them.
As he approached the clearing, he slowed his steps, careful to avoid making unnecessary noise. The last thing he wanted was to startle his quarry into running again.
But as he peered through the trees, his breath caught for a moment.
There, illuminated by the soft glow of the fire, sat Kazuha, his figure relaxed yet alert. The omega’s hair fell loosely around his face, its pale strands catching the flickering light. His eyes, half-closed in contemplation, were focused on the flames as though seeing something far beyond their warmth.
Scaramouche frowned, irritated at himself for lingering too long. He stepped forward, deliberately breaking the silence.
---
Kazuha didn’t flinch at the sound of approaching footsteps. Instead, he shifted his gaze calmly toward the source of the noise, his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade.
When Scaramouche stepped into the firelight, his presence as sharp and electric as ever, Kazuha felt the tension in the air thicken.
“I thought I might find you here,” Scaramouche said, his tone laced with mockery as he stopped a few paces away.
Kazuha tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “It seems fate is persistent in its work.”
“Fate has nothing to do with it,” Scaramouche snapped. “You’re not as clever as you think, little bird. Your trail was easy enough to follow.”
Kazuha’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “And yet you took all day to find me. Perhaps the wind was not on your side.”
The remark earned a low growl from Scaramouche, though he didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he took another step closer, his arms crossed as he studied the omega.
“You’ve been running,” Scaramouche said, his tone accusatory. “Why? What are you hiding?”
Kazuha met his gaze steadily. “I’ve been walking, not running. And I have nothing to hide.”
“Liar,” Scaramouche hissed.
“Believe what you will,” Kazuha replied calmly. “But I would prefer not to fight you again.”
Scaramouche narrowed his eyes, the faint crackle of electricity flickering at his fingertips. “Who says I’ll give you a choice?”
Kazuha’s hand tightened slightly on his blade, though he didn’t draw it. “If you seek a confrontation, I won’t stop you. But perhaps there are better ways to satisfy your curiosity.”
The words gave Scaramouche pause. He wasn’t used to his opponents offering him alternatives, especially not with such maddening calm.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice suspicious.
“Sit,” Kazuha said, gesturing to the other side of the fire. “You’ve come this far. At the very least, we can speak without drawing blood.”
For a moment, Scaramouche hesitated. His pride rebelled against the idea of accepting anything from the omega, but the logical part of him recognized an opportunity when he saw one.
With a begrudging huff, he lowered himself to the ground, though he remained on edge, his posture tense.
“Talk, then,” Scaramouche said, his tone sharp. “What game are you playing?”
Kazuha regarded him quietly for a moment before speaking. “I’m not playing any games. I am, as I told you before, a wanderer. I have no quarrel with you, nor do I wish to interfere in your affairs.”
“And yet you keep showing up,” Scaramouche countered.
“Perhaps it’s the wind’s doing,” Kazuha said softly, his gaze shifting to the fire. “Or perhaps there is something we are meant to learn from each other.”
The cryptic remark only served to irritate Scaramouche further, though he refrained from lashing out. Instead, he watched Kazuha with narrowed eyes, his thoughts churning as the firelight danced between them.
---
The night deepened as the two sat on opposite sides of the fire, their silence heavy with unspoken questions. Though their truce was tenuous, it marked the beginning of something neither of them fully understood—a collision of fates that would shape the storms to come.
