|Goodbye Again| kazuscara

十三の

From the very beginning, he had been prepared to discard the man once the journey was over, but his emotions still got in the way. He couldn't bear to even take a glance at the other's reaction, and so he didn't. The tension between them rose and he could feel their moments together fade into a bittersweet past. But this is something he waited for.

Freedom.

He finally was going to obtain freedom.

The prince held on tight to his hat as the wind blew strong between them, further separating their bond. He uttered not a word as he took the last few steps forward, the snow crunching under their feet.

Guards dressed with patterns and sigils began to appear alongside the paths that led up to the palace. Some held modified firearms, others with vanguards, and few with crossbows. Flurries of snow flew past them from atop the mountains as if it were warning them to turn back. The dread built up into a complication of emotions for Kazuha. What was it like for Scara to run away from whatever life he had to go straight into a dangerous place such as this?

Stairs could be seen at this point, leading to metal doors that were ice cold. No longer wanting to prolong these bitter feelings, Scara grit his teeth and pace his steps, growing closer to the doors of the Tsaritsa.

When guards before a gate allowed them entry to the Tsaritsa's palace grounds, Kazuha wanted to stop and back away, to tell Scara to stay. He had always travelled alone, so why was it so difficult to let go? This place did not suit a person such as Scara or Kazuha, just as no one with pains and sorrows deserved their suffering.

"This is..." he began speaking, but the cold air froze his words. It was like a dodomeki had stolen his words, leaving Kazuha to stand frozen at the foot of those grey stairs that reminded him of death.

"We've been expecting you," a voice said, his voice low with mystery and bright with knowledge. The masked figure of cladded silver and depressing blue. The second Fatui Harbinger, Il Dottore.

Kazuha wanted to speak, to ask why Scara had ever wanted to go to the Fatui, and to tell him walking up those stairs and into that cold palace wouldn't solve whatever he wanted or turn back time so that he would have never experienced his pains. It was the doorway of death, and there was nothing to pay entry with but a life.

When Scara turned back, at the foot of the final set of stairs, he saw the look on Kazuha's face. Who knew he would be the one betraying this time?

He pulled his hat down, letting it fall to the ground, and clutched his veil in a tight fist. He wanted to smile so it wouldn't hurt so much, but the air in his empty lungs got caught in his throat,

"The Fatui." Scara admitted, feeling tears welling up and stinging in his eyes as he turned his head to Kazuha. He wanted to speak his final farewell, but failed. If he had a heart, it would probably be beating faster than ever. After all, that is what he desired.

A heart.

There were no words to describe how Kazuha felt then. Was it shock, pain, confusion, betrayal? Time felt as slow as the snow that fell. He stared into the pained violet eyes of Scara, a great wall falling between them.

"You're the prince."

Scaramouche didn't say a word. He nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the brilliant crimson-red eyes of Kazuha. This would be the last of that bright colour in the poor prince's life.

"Kunikuzushi." The doctor smiled with his bright rows of sharp teeth. The mask that covered the upper half of his face was sure to hide the most despicable pair of eyes, ones which belonged to the devil.