MEANT TEA BE [ scaramouche ]

03: THE MEMORIES

For a moment, Lumine had thought that the Balladeer had not only erased his memory from Irminsul, but also his existence.

Her worries are quelled as soon as she spots a man in the Grand Bazaar. That's the Balladeer, she thinks.

The Balladeer stands awkwardly in front of a merchant, his lips drawn into a thin line. Despite being berated by the merchant for a multitude of reasons, the Balladeer remains quiet, opting to take everything that's being accused of him. Lumine shudders a little—if this were the real Balladeer, the entire bazaar would be annihilated.

"Are you a... drifter, or something?" a confused merchant asks.

"That's right," the wanderer replies, "I am."

Lumine says nothing, opting to watch the puppet adjust the position of his hat awkwardly before stating, "We can talk more about that later. First, let me get those fruits you needed—sunsettias, was it? I'll be right back."

His traditional purple clothes have been replaced with shades of blue, his hat no longer adorned with mirroring veils as he strolls through the streets of Sumeru, a distant expression on his face. There's an wondrous look of innocence lacing his features, as if erasing his memory erased his past along with it.

But Lumine knows the truth behind his dazed eyes, the reality of what he's done, even if he himself isn't aware of it. Because deep within the Balladeer was Kunikuzushi, and deep within this drifter is the Balladeer. No matter how many incarnations he undergoes, or how many pasts he forcefully erases, it will all come manifesting back.

Sometimes, the past comes bounding back in the form of the most unexpected things. Sometimes, it comes back in the form of a figurine.

Lumine eyes the tanuki figure in the wanderer's front pocket, and that alone is enough for her to realize the way this wicked world works. The way that time reworks itself, easing into the crevices of pain and rooting there, carrying on from one incarnation to the next.

"That's him," Lumine tells her floating companion, "That's the Balladeer."

"You mean that's the psycho that tried to kill you and Paimon?! That's impossible! Look at his face, you could sweep him easily!" Paimon exclaims, disbelieving.

"Let's follow him," she replies, ignoring Paimon's comment and opting to trail after the wanderer as he leaves the Grand Bazaar. He strolls towards a nearby tree, his hand outstretched to examine the sunsettias still dangling from the branches. There's an uncharacteristic tenderness to his touch, his pale fingers coming to tug at the stem gently, as if afraid to hurt it.

Lumine has to blink multiple times in order to confirm that what she's seeing is not just a figment of her imagination. Because the Balladeer is not tender nor gentle; he is someone who will do whatever it takes to achieve his goals.

She observes the dazed, wistful look in his eyes. Unlike Kunikuzushi, who often had a yearning expression, and the Balladeer, whose face contorted with hate, this aimless wanderer has no sense of identity in his irises. He harvests sunsettias as if he was programmed to do so, his limbs moving mechanically and his lips straightening into a thin line.

He's lost everything, Lumine affirms. Without his thirst for revenge, the Balladeer is nothing. There is nothing left in the world that is worth anything, that could amount to something, because his entire identity was founded by the despair he felt in Tatarasuna, the despair he felt when Kunikuzushi's purpose was annihilated.

Who is he now, without longing or revenge? What is this drifter's purpose, when he has forgotten everything that ever meant anything to him?

"This should be enough. Umm... Ah, guess I should wash them before I take them back..." the wanderer mutters to himself softly, his arm stretching up to wipe the sunsettia with the fabric of his sleeve. He frowns a little when he realizes there's no noticeable difference.