𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 ; 𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚 . ◈

first meetings

Scaramouche's first meeting with Kazuha isn't good.
It isn't even okay, not even by his own admittedly low people-meeting standards, mostly because he's both soaking wet and incredibly pissed-off at the time.

While his work with the Fatui has a habit of staving off the absolute boredom that tends to accompany life, it certainly has its downsides. The Tsaritsa's gotten it into her head that the Gnoses of the world are better off in her possession, and she's splintered her loyal Harbingers off into different regions in an attempt to collect them. Some regions, like Mondstadt, have it easy, because its Archon is a festival jester who consumes wine more regularly than the air of his own element.
Others, like Inazuma, are locked up tighter than Childe's mouth when his siblings are around, and require considerably more effort to get to the source of the Archon's power.

All of this means that Scaramouche, who just happened to be born with the curse of being a native Inazuman, is stuck in Teyvat's watery asshole once more, plodding his way through rain-soaked Naku weeds under the temporary command of a sea-witch.
Despite the Fatui's temporary alliance with the Resistance, it's clear that they don't trust him, their leader least of all, which is why she's sent one of her soldiers to tail him. The boy is walking behind him at a respectable distance, in soundless steps that take Scaramouche a frustratingly long time to identify--and when he does, finally making his stalker's presence out from under the cover of the rain, his skin is practically crawling with irritation.

His agitation boils over in his stomach, flares upwards and crackles at his fingertips in a burst of Electro, and he whirls around without warning, sending a jagged strike of lightning directly at the boy's face.
To his mild disappointment, the attack doesn't connect--instead, the boy merely tilts his head with an unnatural swiftness, allowing it to sail past just barely past his ear as if he'd heard it coming all along.
Red eyes blink steadily back at him, and the blank expression on the boy's features gives nothing away as he comes closer, closing the distance between them.

"You wished to speak with me, Lord Harbinger?" he asks, mildly, like they're exchanging pleasantries over tea and Scaramouche hadn't just tried to kill him in the rain.
"Who the hell are you?"
The boy bows, the customary greeting of their shared homeland. "Kaedehara Kazuha. It's an honor to meet you."
Then, he extends his hand towards Scaramouche, the universal offering of peace.
Scaramouche stares at the other, trying on various expressions of disgust. He doesn't take the other's hand--in fact, he reaches right past it and hooks his fingers into the front of the boy's kimono, jerking him around to slam his back up against the nearby tree.
An electric pulse of his power skates directly over the flutter of Kazuha's heart, a clear warning of what will happen if he dares to reach for the sword at his waist.

"You're following me."

Kazuha nods in confirmation, blinking rapidly against the rain falling into his eyes, drops of water clinging to the length of his snowy lashes.
"I don't need this. The Fatui have their own plans here, and I don't intend on letting one of the Resistance's dogs chase me around. So I'm telling you now--stay out of my way."
"...What would you have me do, then?" Kazuha says eventually, still pliant and loose beneath Scaramouche's hand, not an ounce of tension or fear in his frame.
It's baffling--there is a very angry, very deadly Harbinger snarling in his face, and the most emotion Kazuha can seem to summon is confusion.
"I don't care what you do--take a nap, walk off of the cliff, just leave me alone."
"My orders to follow you come directly from Her Excellency."
"And this order is coming from me."
At that, a flicker of sharpness passes through Kazuha's eyes, the faintest hint of steel as he narrows his gaze. It's the first sign of real emotion that Scaramouche has seen in the other, and something like a low thrill rises somewhere inside of him, before he hastily stamps it down.

"I do not answer to you," Kazuha says, very quietly.
Scaramouche smiles at that, a real smile, because this is something he can work with, because there's a reason that his subordinates only question him once, and then never again. He readjusts his grip on Kazuha's collar, energy crackling around the palm of his free hand, but Kazuha shifts his gaze upwards then, staring at something in the trees.

He twists slightly to the right, still making no effort to break himself away from Scaramouche's hold, just in time for an arrow to come whistling through the falling sheets of rain, embedding itself in the trunk of the tree.
At the interruption, Scaramouche twists around with a curse, feels his already tenuous restraint on his temper finally come to snap.

"Who do you think you are?" he demands of their assailants--a small group of the Shogunate's forces--and his catalyst sizzles to life beside him, an uneasy grin settling itself over his face. "I was busy."

Behind him, he hears Kazuha draw his sword at last, silent as ever, and then he cloaks the clearing in a shroud of Anemo with a single slash. The swirling cyclone of it pulls at the gathering Electro in Scaramouche's hand, and he feels the way that Kazuha's element seeps into his own, amplifying its strength until Scaramouche doesn't so much as fend off their attackers as he does execute them.

Afterwards, while the rain washes away the stain of red from the grass and when the most that their attackers can summon in their defense are a series of pained noises, Kazuha speaks up once more.
He straightens up carefully, sheathing his sword with a careful precision, then--
"Perhaps there is merit in remaining together."
Scaramouche feels his face twist, and he turns his back on the other without further acknowledgement.

"Stay out of my way," he repeats, and kicks a groaning body to the side of his path as he makes his exit.
Kazuha watches him go, his piercing stare burning against Scaramouche's back. When Scaramouche checks behind him again, some ten, fifteen minutes later, Kazuha is following behind once more, trailing after him with that same, familiar quiet.