i want to breathe, for one second more - kazuscara (原神)

chapter 1 - one step forward, two steps back

Shedding in the snow

Yet the small shoot does still sprout

Time repeats itself

(5, 7, 5 haiku)

The second his foot made contact with the solid ground, Kazuha felt a feeling of nostalgia rush through him. This foreign sensation dizzied the male, who held out his arms to balance out weight. Kazuha took in a breath of fresh air, steadied himself and took another step forward.

— — — — —

Nothing could compare to the bustling and lively energy from Ritou's citizens. The merchants' enchanting songs, the scent of fresh produce, the lush carpet of red leaves...

and yet, this had no effect on the good-for-nothing, ordinary wanderer of Narukami Island.

As he walked to the Five Kasen plaza, Scaramouche tightened his fingers around the small plaque of wood he carried. It was an "ema", something unremarkable people used for writing their wishes. On his, were simply words crudely carved on with a pocket knife reading:

"I wish this stupid break would be over soon so I can get back to work."

Scaramouche wasn't one to fall for myths about wishes coming true, or talk about destiny. But what else had he to do with all the time he had on his hands? "Stupid partners," he muttered under his breath. "And this meaningless break." He enjoyed working at the organisation, as it made life seem less insignificant. This was the only way he was truly making a difference in the world, anyways. However, this break his "comrades" had forced him into further contributed to his boredom and was slightly driving him insane. An entire 5 months off, could you believe that? Almost half a year. Scaramouche scowled as he thought about all other things he could be doing at that moment instead of worshipping the gods as any other coward would be doing.

He dragged his feet in front of the giant maple tree. Was that a disrespect? Scaramouche rolled his eyes as he tied the wooden tablet to the frame in front of the tree, where an overwhelming number of other wishes decorated the flimsy rack. Skimming over each one, he was able to pick up on a common theme between all of them.

"I write to you in hopes that my store won't shut down this year."

"I wish I can get an A+ on my exam so my mum isn't mad at me."

"Please guarantee my safety as inner conflict continues to linger."

They were all so... selfish. "I wish", "I hope" and "I pray that" were common phrases seen written on these plaques. Everything was about them; the person who wrote it. Scaramouche's mood darkened when he realised his journey was in vain, for his outlook on life was even worse than before after seeing the trivial little wants and needs of the Inazuman citizens.

Resisting the urge to kick the rack of wishes, Scaramouche headed for the outskirts of Ritou, feeling way too excited to get out of the suffocating crowd. He was done. He wanted out. "I swear," Scaramouche whispered with a staggering amount of hatred in his soft voice. " The moment I am permitted to go back to our headquarters, I am going to murder that obnoxious ginger in cold blood." Unfazed by the words he spoke, he glared at anyone who dared give him stares with a duration longer than a second. Of course, Scaramouche himself knew that he would never do such a thing. Not out of compassion, though. It would leave a stain on his shiny reputation. He imagined that all the other Harbingers were having their silly meetings, sitting around the table that felt as cold as ice to touch, resembling the expressions on their faces.

"Wait... What in the-?"

Scaramouche squinted his eyes to see a small figure wearing red walking quickly in his direction, followed by a mob of masked samurai. If this was any other occasion, he would have laughed and walked in the other direction. But the distressed stranger looked almost familiar.