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“His Excellency, His Excellency!” A child no more than the age of ten ran up to him. She held two Onikabutos in her hands: one a small fragile little thing, while the other a large hard-shelled beast. Behind her followed a boy of similar age, sniveling as he wiped snot off his nose.
Kunikuzushi smiled and crouched down to their level. “Yes?”
“His Excellency, please tell Ren my Onikabuto’s better!” Yui held up the large hard-shelled one with bright sparkling eyes.
“Yui is being mean…” Ren sobbed, wiping his tear-stained cheeks. He pointed a weak hand to the smaller Onikabuto. He whined, “I didn’t wanna fight, but Yui stole Itsuki and said hers is better. I just wanted to play…”
“Oh, Yui…” Kunikuzushi patted the top of her head. “Why don’t we give Ren his beetle back? There are many others who’d like to play with you instead.”
Ren used this time to snatch his beetle back and run away while Yui pouted. Then her eyes lit up. “How about His Excellency play with me?”
Kunikuzushi smiled widely. “Why, I’d be honored to play with the nation’s best.”
He ushered Yui to the group of kids playing about and told her he’d come back with an Onikabuto of his own. While reluctant, she eventually nodded and skipped to annoy Ren again. Kunikuzushi waved to the children once more before heading to the forest, hands behind his back as he peered for beetles laying about.
“My Almighty Shogun,” Kaedehara Kazuha, the head of the Imperial Guard, said. He kneeled in front of Kunikuzushi, hand on the sheath of his sword, and head bowed. “The people of Konda Village prepared a feast for you, and…” His lips curled into a charming smile. “My surprise begins today. The Kaedehara clan has especially prepared an offer for Your Almighty.”
“Another offering?” Kunikuzushi pulled Kazuha up from kneeling. “Your clan certainly has a quirk of gratitude.”
Kazuha hurriedly stood up and swatted crystalflies from touching the Shogun. Then he smiled as if nothing happened, and lovingly said, “It is the least we could do for His Excellency. If not for your help, my clan would have long lost its noble name. Your service to Inazuma is a gift for all.”
Kunikuzushi hummed and continued to walk. “You do know my offer still stands? It would pain me to keep you chained to my side.”
A crash sounded from the playground, and a loud wail echoed throughout the area. Kunikuzushi laughed while Kazuha looked back in exasperation.
“It seems the children played too rough.” Kunikuzushi peered down at a bush and poked at the shell of a shiny beetle. While inspecting it, he said, “Would you mind checking on them for me?”
Hesitant silence. Then: “I’d rather not leave His Excellency alone.”
Kunikuzushi huffed. “I’ve slain countless enemies myself. I can handle simple beetles.” He looked back and raised a brow when Kazuha didn’t move. “What a ruler I am. Even my most loyal subject won’t obey me.”
Kazuha’s lip tightened, and his shoulders only relaxed when Kunikuzushi made a gesture for him to go.
“I’ll check on them and be back in haste for His Excellency. Please be careful while I am gone.”
“Yes, yes.” Kunikuzushi picked the beetle up. It’s a small thing, tiny legs wiggling about and its longhorn swaying back and forth in its struggle. Feeling bad, he gently placed it back on the ground. “Forgive me, little one.”
Another crash echoed in the forest, and Kunikuzushi sighed. He stood up, dusting the dirt off his kimono while muttering, “Did Kazuha encourage their horse playing?”
He turned around to walk back, already preparing an apology to Yui for not bringing back a beetle, when he froze.
Standing across from him was a man with a slender figure and handsome face. A youthful appearance blessed him, and they were about the same height. Equally wide, starry indigo eyes stared back at him, an astonishment in it that had Kunikuzushi blink in surprise. Short violet hair chopped short framed the stranger’s face, and a large hat settled on the crown of his head, carrying various golden ornaments.
In an instant, he summoned Musou Isshin in his hand. The stranger’s eyes followed as the sword fit snugly in Kunikuzushi’s hand like it was made to be there, and his expression soured.
There was no confirmation, but Kunikuzushi’s guts screamed at him.
This man… was himself.
“Who are you?” Kunikuzushi breathed out, staring.
The man’s mouth opened and closed a few times, still staring with equal fervor. Then he schooled his expression into an ugly scowl. His voice came out as a low snarl, a hostility to it Kunikuzushi didn’t miss, “How dare you disgrace me!”
He blinked. What?
“I…” Kunikuzushi’s mouth ran dry. “I feel that there’s a misunderstanding here.”
The stranger lunged at him, and Kunikuzushi had no choice but to be tackled to the ground. He let Musou Isshin fade away. Maybe a rogue puppet? Did Ei do some experimenting without informing him? If so, Kunikuzushi didn’t want to hurt a fellow brother. His arms raised to block repetitive blows.
“Did Ei awaken you?” Kunikuzushi tried to ask, but the question only enraged the stranger even more. He blocked a blow to the face. “Um. What’s your name?” A punch to the stomach. Kunikuzushi gasped when fingers squeezed his neck. “I-I’d rather not resort to violence if possible. So please answer me.”
“Not resort to violence?” The stranger snorted. His lips curled into a malicious sneer and his thighs painfully dug into Kunikuzushi’s sides as he leaned down. A low, guttural whisper blew against Kunikuzushi’s ear, sending a chilling shudder down his spine. “My world calls me Scaramouche, Almighty Shogun.”
“Your world?” Kunikuzushi frowned. What was this Scaramouche speaking of?
Suddenly, Scaramouche slapped him across the face. Kunikuzushi’s skin burned at the force.
“Weak,” Scaramouche said. He grabbed a handful of Kunikuzushi’s long, luscious hair and dragged his head up. His lips curved into a harsh, taunting sneer. “Letting your servant talk back to you? Serving that bitch? Shit—” A bitter laugh echoed in the forest. Scaramouche pulled harder, and Kunikuzushi winced at the burn. “How could you fuck up this bad?”
Kunikuzushi’s eyes flashed. “How dare you speak ill of Her Almigh—”
A bright flash of lightning, then his vision blacked out.
“His Excellency,” Kazuha called, strolling into the forest. “Yui is throwing a tantrum. She says you have to come back, or I fear she’ll make Ren cry again.”
He continued walking for a while, but when no voice called back, panic coursed through Kazuha’s veins and he rushed deeper into the woods. “Kunikuzushi? Kunikuz—oh.” A relieved smile. “There you are.”
Scaramouche stood still in the middle of a clearing, back facing Kazuha. His purple and black kimono was heavily disheveled. The silk fell off his shoulder, exposing a soft expanse of skin, and the edges had subtle rips with mud stains. Kazuha was too busy calming his heart at the sight to notice the sudden change of hairstyle.
“His… Excellency?”
A pair of clear eyes whipped around, narrowing for a moment before shifting back to neutrality. Kazuha slowly approached him and helped with fixing the kimono. Scaramouche’s stare burned as Kazuha’s fingers trailed on the skin of his back, cold and calculating that placed a tension around them.
When Kazuha fixed the kimono up as best as he could, Scaramouche’s icy stare was gone—replaced by an odd, menacing smile. His lips curled wider at the blatant adoration in Kazuha’s expression, as if he just discovered something interesting.
Chilling excitement seeped into his bones.
They headed back to the heart of Konda Village. The children surrounded them, holding up candy and little trinkets to give to their Almighty Shogun. At first, Scaramouche stilled at the abundance of attention, then reluctantly got a flower from a little girl. This caused even more chaos and kids kept giving him gifts until his arms were full to the brink.
Kazuha reached out, but Scaramouche jerked away. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll hold them for His Excellency.” Kazuha tilted his head. “Surely, he does not want to hold everything himself?”
“Oh.” Scaramouche let Kazuha take the gifts from his arms. He watched distantly as Kazuha balanced them with expertise and memorized the feeling of their arms brushing.
Tentatively, Scaramouche said, “Niwa?”
A low chuckle escaped Kazuha’s lips. “I should thank His Excellency for reminding me; I’ve long forgotten that old man’s name.”
Scaramouche froze.
At that, Kazuha paused in his ministrations, brows furrowing in concern. He placed the abundance of gifts on their carriage before placing a gentle hand on Scaramouche’s back. “Is everything alright, His Excellency?”
Scaramouche tensed at the touch, but he pried his lips open for a ghost of a whisper. “Niwa is alive?”
“Of course he is,” Kazuha said, rubbing comforting circles on his back. Scaramouche unconsciously leaned into the touch. “Although Grandfather Katsuragi has been sickly these days, he’s ultimately stubborn to his core to surrender.”
“Bring me to him,” he demanded.
“But the Konda Village just prepared a feast for you, His Excellency. We must accommodate them fir—”
“And who are you to disobey my orders?” Ice frosted over Scaramouche’s expression, his voice turning low and harsh. A malicious aura radiated off him like a miasma, but a gentle hand cupped his cheek and turned his face.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Kazuha’s brows furrowed, eyes searching Scaramouche’s face for any unusual signs. His expression was tender and showed a care that had Scaramouche’s tongue running dry. “You’ve been acting unusual since the forest. Do you need me to call Sangonomiya over?”
His mouth opened and closed. Then he stepped away. “I—no. Just… Bring me to Niwa.”
“… Alright,” Kazuha said, still searching Scaramouche’s eyes. “I’ll inform the head of Konda Village of our departure and we’ll head there right away.”
Apparently, one reason why Kunikuzushi assigned Kazuha as his personal attendant was because of his anemo vision. Using the gift of the winds, Kazuha brought them over to the Kaedehara estate in an instant. Scaramouche pointedly ignored Kazuha’s comfortability with traveling in such an intimate manner—bodies flush and arms wrapped around limbs.
The moment they arrived, a bustle of life erupted.
Servants and samurais surrounded them like moths to a lightbulb. Rowdy young men slung arms with Kazuha, wearing a traditional attire Scaramouche did not recognize. But it had a maple crest in the middle of their armors.
Nobles with snow white hair mulled about the estate. Familiar red eyes looked on from everywhere and relatives dragged Kazuha to the side multiple times, either to take a shot or start small talk that didn’t last long. Practically everyone in the vicinity approached Scaramouche with reverence, some even having the confidence to kiss the back of his hand with a sultry flutter of their lashes.
They offered pastries and sweets to him left and right. Scrolls of poetry and intricately made paintings were handed to him every second. Young samurais-in-training would offer duels in his honor and Scaramouche would refuse them. Then, even more peculiar, were marriage proposals from some of the Kaedeharas.
Although Kazuha would expertly lead him elsewhere when this happened, leaving behind boisterous laughs from his relatives.
All Scaramouche could do was accept everything in stride, too shocked to mull over something for too long.
Because this… was not how a Shogun was supposed to be treated.
The Kaedeharas treated him like a friend. Even though respect was there, it was a stark contrast to the shivering fear of his fatui underlings. This discovery left him astonished.
A burly woman came onto them, hair similar to Kazuha’s and lips like a red poppy on a snowy mountain. She offered a special drink of her own, and Scaramouche faked a smile and took a sip. He didn’t have high expectations. So he blinked in surprise at the lovely taste of apples and honey. At his expression, the woman barked out a laugh and smacked a hand on his back.
Immediately, Scaramouche’s expression darkened, but Kazuha led him to a private room in the heart of the estate before he could lash out.
A boyish grin laced Kazuha’s lips. “They’re especially rowdy today. Forgive them on my behalf.”
Scaramouche ignored the heat in his cheeks and turned up his nose. “Where’s Niwa?”
Kazuha’s grin fell at the dismissal, but he recovered quickly. He knocked twice on a door and said, “Grandfather?”
“Come in.”
Kazuha nodded at Scaramouche and nuzzled the door to the side.
Scaramouche gulped at the sight.
A fairly old man sat on a mat, head tilted down to read on a low table. His back stood straight as he scribbled something down on a parchment with elegance and grace. Long platinum blonde hair trailed down his back and even in his old age, he excluded a familiar confidence and strength that had Scaramouche’s mouth clamp shut.
Katsuragi looked up and positively beamed. “Almighty Shogun! To what do I owe this honor?”
Kazuha piped up, “How about me, grandfather?”
“I see you every day, boy.” Katsuragi waggled his inked feather at him. “Always going home alone. Not even taking the Shogun with you! What use is your title, huh?”
Scaramouche frowned. This… didn’t seem like Katsuragi.
Kazuha laughed, a hearty sound in Scaramouche’s ears. “My God is much too busy to mingle with the old folks, grandfather.”
“Bah!” Katsuragi stood up and graciously shook Scaramouche’s hand. They sat on tatami mats and settled around the chabudai, a short-legged table in the middle of the room.
“So…” Katsuragi poured tea for them. “Why has the Almighty Shogun blessed us with his presence? Is there anything this humble head of the clan can provide?”
Scaramouche stared at him. He wet his lips before carefully saying, “Didn’t you used to work in Tatarasuna?”
“Hmm?” Katsuragi looked confused for a moment, before fixing his expression. “I did, Your Excellency. I used to work as an assistant in Mikage Furnace, but that was a long time ago. After my predecessor passed away, I took over as head of the clan.”
“Oh.” Scaramouche processed this. “How about… Nagamasa?”
Katsuragi let out a hearty chuckle. He said, not bothering to conceal his fondness, “That old baboon? He’s busy keeping the Raiden Gokaden as prosperous as it is today—working hard for your sake, Almighty Shogun!”
Scaramouche scorned Katsuragi’s enthusiasm.
His mind screamed: that old baboon killed you in my world!
Scaramouche let the topic pass and they spoke in pleasantries the rest of the afternoon. As this continued, his chest tightened every time Katsuragi displayed similar habits to his Katsuragi.
“Do you still enjoy shounen manga?” Scaramouche asked softly. He and his Katsuragi used to read these stories before they slept. It was where Katsuragi developed his heroic tendencies, all from idolizing fictional figures with unrealistic righteousness which ultimately contributed to his noble death.
He could only blink when Katsuragi said, “Hm? I never had the time to read such things. I was always busy with swordsmanship and arts.”
“Oh.” Scaramouche’s lips tightened. Then: “How about sword dancing?”
We sword danced together when we first met; he thought hopefully.
Katsuragi rubbed his chin. “I’ve never had the time to study dance, more so sword dancing. But if the Almighty Shogun suggests I should, then who am I to refuse?”
Scaramouche’s brows furrowed. This… truly wasn’t his Katsuragi. Who knew the same people could be so different in parallel worlds?
Disheartened, Scaramouche kept quiet.
A hand firmly held his under the table and gave a light squeeze. Scaramouche jerked his head up to see Kazuha conversing with his grandfather, all the while rubbing soft circles on the back of Scaramouche’s palm. The feel of Kazuha’s calloused fingers sent a pleased rush down his spine.
This isn’t your Kazuha, either, a dark voice reminded him. Your world’s Kaedehara Kazuha is a running criminal, a man with no family or noble name.
Scaramouche didn’t speak the rest of the afternoon.
Kazuha had exhausted himself too much with the anemo traveling and so Scaramouche sat on the Kaedehara’s finest carriage. A purebred white stallion kept them moving while a nameless servant drove.
If Scaramouche peeked outside the curtains, he’d be able to see Kazuha riding a horse alongside the carriage. He sat alone inside. And he got sick of it after a while. So Scaramouche pulled the curtains to the side and called Kazuha’s attention.
“Ride with me.”
Kazuha smiled charmingly. Truly a sight with his Imperial Guard attire and his horse. “This servant must ensure His Excellency’s safety.”
Scaramouche waved around. “Literally a dozen Kaedehara samurais are escorting me. Come on.”
Kazuha made rounds with the escorting samurais, giving them explicit instructions before hopping off his horse and respectfully stepping into the carriage.
As Scaramouche expected, Kazuha sat right beside him with no bother for personal space. Their thighs pressed together, emitting a delicious heat, while Kazuha offered a basket full of snacks and drinks. Scaramouche declined them and Kazuha shrugged before placing them down.
If he could recall the events from earlier… then there was no mistake. The casual intimacy, the lingering touches, and the lack of formal address. This world’s Kazuha and Scar—Kunikuzushi were in a romantic relationship.
As if to confirm his suspicions, Kazuha smiled and curled his arms around Scaramouche’s waist, resting a chin on his shoulder. “Did His Excellency enjoy the celebration?”
Scaramouche felt dirty for melting into the touch. But Kazuha was so… warm; a dawning sun to a cold, chilly night. Leaning onto him felt like all his problems would disappear with a simple touch. There was a tenderness and amiability to his expressions that had Scaramouche’s face heat in a way that never happened before.
You’ve done far worse things, he reminded himself. You’ve murdered clans in cold-blood and spoke with shameless deceit.
But all of this wasn’t his. This Kazuha and the adoration these Inazumans had weren’t something he earned with his own right. The abundance of gifts and holy words in his name weren’t for Scaramouche. The title of His Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, wasn’t his to bask in.
It was all for Kunikuzushi.
“Kunikuzushi?” Kazuha peered at him. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Scaramouche said, feeling sick.
Kazuha must have noticed something wrong since he moved to back away, but Scaramouche clutched his arm, fingers grasping at the armor. “Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Kazuha adjusted so that Scaramouche could snuggle into the crook of his neck, arms wrapped securely around him. Scaramouche buried his face into the soft scarves, brows knitted into a soft frown as he held Kazuha tight, as if letting go would return him to his original world. They rocked back and forth, a gentle serenity washing over them that Scaramouche cherished—it was rare to experience this kind of comfort. Nobody in his world loved him enough to hold him like this.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” Kazuha asked after some time. His tone was so soft, so loving, that a spark of jealousy ignited for this world’s Kunikuzushi.
“No,” Scaramouche muttered, hugging him tighter. “Just… thank you.”
Kazuha laughed. “What is His Excellency so thankful for?”
Scaramouche swallowed a lump down his throat, and repeated: “Thank you.” For being the only person in two worlds to love me.
Along the way to the Tenshukaku, their carriage garnered a lot of attention
“Almighty Shogun!” Naganohara Yoimiya bounded upon them, a bright smile on her face as kids flocked around her. She held a sparkler in her hand, but she placed it on the ground and rushed into a shed. Scaramouche had no choice but to accept the box full of fireworks as she passed it through the window, gaining a special bounce in her steps after giving it away.
“May His Excellency enjoy the rest of his evening!” Yoimiya waved wildly as the carriage continued to move. “Have that as thanks for helping Naganohara Fireworks!!”
Scaramouche handed the box to Kazuha and thought rather bitterly, how loved is this Kunikuzushi?
“Yoimiya is especially thankful for your help last week,” Kazuha said, inspecting the flower crowns the kids gave before placing it on top of Scaramouche’s hair. Brushing stray locks away, he smiled. “I’ll eternally be grateful to serve such a wondrous emperor.”
Scaramouche didn’t feel like watching fireworks anymore.
“It’s the BIG BOSS!” Arataki Itto peered his head into the carriage. Several Kaedehara samurais panicked, but Kazuha stopped them before Itto could get restrained. Once making eye contact with Scaramouche, Itto grinned widely and dragged him out.
“I caught twenty-five beetles for my godbro!” Godbro? “Y’know. As, like, a thank you for helping my grandma’s ill health.” Itto sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. “She says beetles aren’t a suitable gift for our emperor, but does it matter when it’s the thought that counts?”
Scaramouche was once again forced to receive another gift for something his counterpart did. He hid his disgust at the sight of the beetles and passed the box to Kazuha right away. However, Itto and his gang did a short theater show for him before he could leave—it was horrendous. But, strangely, Scaramouche felt himself smile at the silly finale: a cheesy, heart-warming speech from Itto about his grandmother’s thanks.
“Granny Oni sent a tea set to the Tenshukaku,” Kazuha said while they rode back. Night settled and Kazuha opted to ride his horse alongside the carriage, worried about emerging monsters approaching them.
Scaramouche leaned his elbow on the window and watched Kazuha speak about the rest of the gifts Kunikuzushi received. It was dark out and sparkling crystalflies flew around them, illuminating Kazuha’s sun-kissed skin. The stars shined especially bright tonight, and strangely enough, Scaramouche’s chest ached.
But this was different to the soul sucking grief of losing Katsuragi. Or the mind blinding rage of revenge against Ei. This was… a good feeling. A tingly sensation in his stomach and a bashful heat on his cheeks; a want to hug Kazuha and squeeze him like a teddy bear.
It was, in some fucked up nature, kind of beautiful to experience.
Scaramouche walked around the Tenshukaku.
Hundreds of hallways extended all around. Everywhere one would go, delicately made paintings and murals hung on the walls. A soft, red carpet covered the floor and traditional Inazuma furnishings decorated anything to be seen. And now and then, some hints of personality showed themselves. Such as a room full of advanced candy machines and little stickers on the doorknobs. The maids and guards all greeted Scaramouche with glee, as if genuinely happy to see their darling shogun back in the castle.
Then, he entered what was supposed to be Kunikuzushi’s room.
It was the complete opposite of his personal quarters in his world. While Kunikuzushi’s room was humble and every piece of furniture screamed Inazuma!!, Scaramouche’s room had wealth seeping into every single corner and didn’t have an ounce of Inazuman designs in it. Even more mind-boggling were the photographs decorating the entire left wall, each one with colorful letters stuck to it.
A photo of a smiling Kunikuzushi and a blank faced Kujou Sara: “Day one of trying to gain General Kujou’s trust. She’s a tough shell to crack, but I’ll make progress.”
A photo of Kunikuzushi and General Gorou of the Watatsumi Army: “Gorou just joined the Imperial Guard today. I hope he stays.”
A photo of Kunikuzushi laughing in Kazuha’s arms, with the other gazing lovingly at the emperor: “The Kaedehara clan sent their finest swordsman to be my bodyguard. He’s awfully quiet, but I finally cracked him.”
Another photo of Kunikuzushi and Kazuha. This time, Kazuha smiled brightly at the kamera while brandishing a medal with Kunikuzushi kissing his cheek. “My lovely got promoted. Don’t tell him I pulled some strings…”
Then, a photo of Kunikuzushi drinking dango milk with Raiden Ei: “Dinner date with mom. Although we just ate sweets and had no dinner. She’s been happier since passing the crown to me, and she can talk about Makoto without getting depressed now. Thrilled today.”
Scaramouche felt sick.
Would I have been the same? He wondered as he ghosted a finger on the last photograph. If Ei never left me, is this the life I could’ve had?
Suddenly, he was pulled into a chest. A hand rubbed circles on his back, and Scaramouche only realized he was crying when large tears dripped down his chin and landed on the other person’s shirt. Kazuha murmured sweet nothings into his ear as disgusting, uncontrollable sobs wretched out of his mouth.
Weak, weak, weak. Scaramouche gritted his teeth, but Kazuha only hugged him tighter. Gently, Kazuha led them to the bed and sat them down.
Hands cupped his face, and thumbs wiped at his tears. “Do you want to talk?”
“It’s not fair,” Scaramouche gritted out. He wiped harshly on his cheeks, but Kazuha held his wrists.
“What’s not fair?” Kazuha asked, holding Scaramouche’s hands in between his own to prevent him from rubbing his skin until it burned red.
And since Scaramouche didn’t want to keep quiet about it anymore, he told Kazuha everything. All from the beginnings of his life until he committed a crime so grave the gods of Celestia had to grant him a punishment themselves—which was transporting Scaramouche into a parallel world. At first, he didn’t think of it as a punishment. But now, after a full day of exploring what it offered, it ripped him apart from his core.
Kazuha stared at him, face pale and eyes wide in horror.
The door slammed open. Crackling lightning spread throughout the room as Kunikuzushi and Raiden Ei stood there.
“Kazuha!” Kunikuzushi rushed to pull Kazuha to him, patting his face to check for any injuries. “Did he do anything to you? Did he threaten you?”
“Kuni?” Kazuha breathed out, holding Kunikuzushi’s face in his hands, as if straying away from his real lover deprived him of life. Then, he leaned forward and gave Kunikuzushi a soft, chaste kiss.
Scaramouche looked away.
“Celestia only informed us of your punishment a few moments ago,” Ei said, looking directly at Scaramouche. She held Musou Isshin in her hand. “It is time for your return.”
Scaramouche glared from the bed. A hostility replaced the previous tears in his gaze, mixing along with a murderous intent radiating off him through waves. His eyes were sharp and icy, full of malice and burned with poison, looking ready to launch a critical blow.
Ei stalked toward him, her sword dragging against the floor. But surprisingly enough, Kunikuzushi stopped her.
“What’s your real name?” Kunikuzushi asked. And for the first time, he truly looked like an emperor. With the wealth of his kimono, the legendary sword on his hip, and the electro buzzing around him, he radiated a power that had Scaramouche staring.
This… truly could’ve been him.
“Scaramouche.”
“Scaramouche…” Kunikuzushi repeated, as if tasting it on his lips. “Where did you get that name?”
“None of your fucking business.”
With no warning, Scaramouche lunged forward as lightning crashed through the ceiling and aimed at where Kunikuzushi once stood. Ei and Kazuha moved forward to help, but Kunikuzushi got up from the floor. “Don’t interfere.”
Scaramouche scoffed. Without waiting for Kunikuzushi to get up, he released concentrated electro from his hand. Kunikuzushi met the attack with a blast of electricity. The two blows neutralized each other and disintegrated mid-air with a thundering noise.
An identical lightning bolt blasted from the sky and tore through the ceiling to aim at Scaramouche, but he didn’t move. He took the blow head-on, grinning maliciously as Kunikuzushi stared in surprise. This was only possible because of the fatui’s inhuman training. Dottore had blasted Scaramouche with lightning again, and again, and again until his regenerative properties made him immune.
Surely, the pampered Kunikuzushi didn’t train like this?
Scaramouche stalked forward and grabbed Kunikuzushi by the hair. “That’s the best you can do?” He slammed a fist infused with electro into Kunikuzushi’s stomach. “What’s so good about you?”
A hand grabbed his collar and threw him to the side. Scaramouche crashed into a shelf, dozens of books tipping over and landing with thuds. Raiden Ei loomed over him, eyes glowing as murder screamed in her stance.
“Going this far to protect your darling Kunikuzushi?” Scaramouche spat the name out, laced it with all the boiling hate he could muster and said it like a rotting, forbidden curse. Behind Ei, Kazuha rushed to help Kunikuzushi up, putting such love and care into his movements that Scaramouche felt sick all over again.
He hunched over and puked on the floor.
When he looked back up, three people loomed over him, each having conflicted looks on their faces.
“What?” Scaramouche snarled at them, much like an injured animal getting backed into a corner. He wiped roughly at his mouth. “What are you looking at?”
Even after Scaramouche blasted him off, Kunikuzushi kneeled down in front of him.
Scaramouche gulped. They all had their weapons out. Himself against his creator, an imposter, and Inazuma’s best fighter. He glared at them through his quickly blurring lashes. “What!” he barked out when they only stared. “What the fuck are you looking at?!”
“We heard your story,” Kunikuzushi said quietly, having the audacity to look ashamed. “I’m… sorry.”
The shame stabbed him like ice frosted knives to the heart. His fragile state from earlier returned and Scaramouche clenched his fists, blinking rapidly to clear his vision, but it was useless. So he said, “How dare you?”
When no one answered, Scaramouche whipped around to look at Ei. “You heard my story, right?” A desperate look entered his eyes, mixing with the silent tears running down his cheeks. “What makes him so good?”
Ei looked sorrowful. “Kunikuzushi… was merely successful in this world.”
“Why?” Scaramouche asked, much like a lost, whining child. “Why does he get chosen and not me? What have I done to deserve abandonment?”
“Nothing,” Ei said. Her eyes looked down on him, pitying. She crouched and held his face in her hands. “You’ve done nothing wrong, child. Your Raiden Ei… She must have been too broken. Blinded by her grief to think rationally. She just…” Ei’s throat bobbed. Her voice came out quiet. “She suffered too much—far worse than I did, and forced you to take the brunt of it.”
Even without her saying, Scaramouche could sense it. The relief in her voice. The solace of knowing other worlds had it worse, and it wasn’t for her to experience. Scaramouche pushed her away.
Then he looked at Kazuha and Kunikuzushi, who had their hands locked together.
Scaramouche’s expression darkened. While only looking at Kazuha, he asked, “Can he love me too?”
The question was vague, but everyone knew who he spoke of.
Kazuha didn’t speak for a while. And Scaramouche despised it. Despised how Kazuha slightly stood in front of Kunikuzushi; despised how the loving stare Kazuha once gave him was gone; and fucking despised the hesitance in his movements. As if the concept of loving Scaramouche was so hard to believe—as if Kazuha hadn’t treated Scaramouche like he was worth more than all the treasures in the world less than hours ago.
“I’m still Kunikuzushi,” Scaramouche tried to say. Although his voice broke, he used this to his advantage to sound more pitiful. “I’m not so different from him. Is it so hard to believe?”
“Kunikuzushi,” Kazuha began, “has been fortunate enough to live a good life. While you did not. Your—” His lips tightened, as if his next words pained him to say. “Your Kazuha might have a hard time. But that isn’t for me to confirm; we aren’t the same people.”
Scaramouche’s face fell. Then an idea popped into his head. “Come with me.”
Kunikuzushi stood up. “No.”
Scaramouche glared at him. “Don’t you think you’ve taken enough?”
“Longing for a world that isn’t yours is not healthy…” Kunikuzushi replied. Suddenly, he surged forward and hugged Scaramouche, arms wrapping around his waist and squeezing.
“Wha—”
“I’ll find a way to visit you,” Kunikuzushi promised, resting his chin on Scaramouche’s shoulder. Blueberry and mint leaves wafted into his nose. “I’ll help you. I swear on my life.”
His face burned, and he moved to shove Kunikuzushi away, but the parasite clung to him. “Move!”
“I’ll make a deal with Celestia,” Kunikuzushi declared, squeezing Scaramouche until he choked. “You’re right. I can’t hog all my blessings, so I’ll just have to visit your world and help you.”
“You…” Scaramouche found it useless to struggle against himself. He knew more than anyone how stubborn he was. “You can’t do that.”
“Who says I can’t?”
“This is supposed to be a punishment.”
“If I want something, then I’ll get it,” Kunikuzushi stated.
“I’ll join, too,” Kazuha said. “I wish to see the Kazuha from your world. I know exactly how to deal with him.”
“... I’ll contact Celestia, then.” Ei walked out of the room, although her gait was more solemn now. As if she, too, had pressing issues with her counterpart in Scaramouche’s world.
“So that settles it.” Kunikuzushi gave him a smug grin, similar to the ones Scaramouche would wear when he got his way. “So you can stop crying now. It’s weird to see myself like that.”
Scaramouche bristled. “You act like the shit, but you’re just the same as me.”
Kunikuzushi shrugged. “I won’t deny it. If I ever went through what you did… I’d probably be the same.”
Scaramouche breathed in the burning wood, smoke, and ash of Inazuma. When Celestia threw him down, he landed on top of the Tenshukaku, surrounded by the wildfires he caused before getting transported. A cold, menacing grin laced his lips.
He glanced at the stars. “Welcome.”