Echoes In The Shadows

by bows4reii

Summary:

When suspicious cases start to appear in Liyue, as a Qixing, Y/N is tasked to lead the investigation team into finding out the cause of these strange, yet connected incidents. When the Fatui request to work with Y/N and the Qixing in investigating these strange circumstances, Y/N is instantly suspicious. Y/N is forced to work with Fatui Harbinger Scaramouche, who they absolutely hate working with.

Chapter 1: A Curious Morning in Liyue Harbour

The sun had barely risen over Liyue’s bustling streets, casting a golden glow over the city of contracts. Despite how early it was, the streets already began to fill with merchants, adventurers and people going about their day. The towering buildings stood among the people as a constant reminder of the rich beauty of the city.

As Y/N closed the door behind them, a figure suddenly dashed past, nearly colliding with them. Instinctively, Y/N stumbled back just in time, narrowly avoiding collision. The person was young man with a panicked expression, whispering and muttering to himself inaudible words. He hardly stumbled, nor bothered to slow down or as much as to glance back and apologise to Y/N.

Y/N scoffed, eyebrows furrowed. Though, curiosity piqued them, to which they decided to follow him. Something about the man’s urgency seemed so strange and out of place in the normally quiet and peaceful morning of Liyue. Remembering the strange and unusual events that had recently occurred in the city, something told them it was worth investigating.

By this point, the young man had already run quite far, reminding Y/N that they should probably start following them. Y/N followed closely yet inconspicuously, being sure not to seem too suspicious or weird.

The chase led Y/N through the winding streets of the city, past bustling marketplaces where early rises were only just setting up their stalls, into quieter, more secluded alleys. The man was frantic, his movements erratic as if he were desperately trying to avoid someone or something. Y/N wondered what could lead to such a panicked state, especially this early. Again, this reminded them of all of the strange disappearances and occurrences that had been happening over the past few months. Some such cases included murder, unexplained deaths and disappearances, as well as minor injuries. Though, those who are questioned spared no information, some straight up refusing an interrogation. Y/N were one of the few people investigating these cases as part of the Qixing. They had a tingly feeling that such disappearances and cases could have a link to why this man was so erratic and stressed.

Their path had eventually led them to the outskirts of Liyue harbour, quite far from where they had come from. The man finally began to slow down, and eventually came to a halt. From their concealed position, Y/N watched as the man reached into his coat and pulled out a small, ornate box. he looked around once more before cautiously opening it. A faint, glowing light emerges from the box, the man’s face softened finally. He reached in and pulled out said object. Y/N couldn’t quite see what it was, though it looked like a strange gem of some kind, one they had never seen before.

Suddenly, a grouos of figures emerged from the shadows of the trees just ahead of the man, their silhouettes ominous and dark against the morning glow. Y/N recognised these figures to be some Fatui agents, based on their distinctive uniforms.

“You’ve caused us enough trouble,” one of the Fatui agents snarled as he approached. “Hand over the relic, and we may just consider letting you go.”

The man clutched his items tighter, desperation echoed through his expressions, “I can’t. It’s too dangerous,” he mutters, “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

The Fatui agents laughed amongst each other, “You really think we don’t know how they work?” one of the others spoke up.

“If you don’t hand it over… You know what will happen” Said another Fatui.

The man vigorously shook his head, clutching his relic even harder. Y/N watched in anticipation as the Fatui began to approach the man. Surprisingly, they didn’t seem to want to fight the man, instead one of the few Fatui began pulling out a black bag, just big enough for someone’s head.

The man tried to run, but it was too late. He was completely helpless, surrounded by the numerous Fatui agents. One of the Fatui quickly knocked the poor man out, the relic flying out of his hand. The black bag had been placed over his head, and the Fatui took his possessions. Y/N stayed as quiet and still as possible, watching out for every little detail.

──★

After everything had wrapped up and the Fatui had left, Y/N began making their way back to the city. They knew that if they followed that man that they would be late for work, but if it meant that they could gather any evidence for their case, they would take that risk.

After their exhilarating encounter with the Fatui, Y/N’s heart was still racing. As they stepped foot into their work building, they immediately felt the eyes of their employees on them. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt for being late and leaving their coworkers to manage without them. They quickened their pace, determined to get to Ningguang’s office to explain their lateness. Taking a moment to catch their breath, Y/N straightened their clothes and smoothed their hair before pushing the door to her office.

The aroma of brewing coffee filled the air, accompanied by the smell of freshly baked pastries. Ningguang immediately looked up from her desk where she was hard at work. Her face immediately softened, “Ah, Y/N, you’re finally here,” she began.

But before she could finish Y/N began, “Lady Ningguang, I sincerely apologise for being late! I promise it will never happen again I just—“

Ningguang interrupts with a giggle, “Y/N, it’s alright. You’re one of our best attending employees, it’s alright to be late every once in a while.”

Relief washes over Y/N, “Thank you, Ma’am. Though there was something I was hoping to discuss with you in consideration of why I was late,” they finish.

Ningguang tilts her head, “While I am indeed curious, there is an important matter at hand I would like you specifically to deal with. Of course as lead of this investigation, I believe it is most appropriate that you are one to deal with this… predicament.”

Y/N was puzzled, “Hmm? What are you talking about my lady?”

Ningguang motions for Y/N to sit down with her, and hands her a cup of coffee. She begins, “The Fatui have preposed a temporary partnership, or a truce with us. Somehow, they have discovered that we are currently investigating those suspicious activities that have been happening here, and that we are quite stuck. Of course, to avoid any… problems, I agreed, yet I am quite sceptical. Considering our current suspects, I believe this will benefit us greatly, though if you are not willing to work with them I do understand. so, what do you propose?”

Y/N took a moment to take this all in. How strange it was, first the Fatui earlier this morning and now they were trying to partner up with them? It seemed as if everything were trying to solve itself at this point.

“Well, who am I to refuse such a request,” Y/N jokes, “Of course I would not mind working with them.”

Ningguang smiles, “Excellent, thank you very much for your cooperation, Y/N. I will be sure to let them know shortly. I think that for now it’s best that we continue following any leads we have.”

Y/N nods, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for this opportunity!”

Y/N leaves their boss’ office, swiftly heading toward their own office. As soon as they enter, they noticed the mountain of paperwork that had piled up overnight. Y/N sighs, until they notice a bouquet of flowers. Gorgeous, pink peonies lay on their desk beside the stack of paper.

They approach, trying to figure out who could’ve possibly placed them here. They noticed a small note attached to the stems, it read ‘From, 6’.

How strange, They thought to themself. Y/N was not in any relationship, nor did they know any friends or family that would do something like this. Though, they just shrugged it off.

Chapter 2: Stormy Alliances: A Rainy Day Summons

Summary:

After being requested to come in early for work, Y/N makes their way to the Jade Chamber to meet said partner. What they didn’t realise was that they would really hate this alliance.

After a long day of constant paperwork, Y/N is finally able to leave. They paced around the room, collecting all of their belongings before heading for the door. As they walked down the hall, they caught wind of their friend Keqing, who just so happened to be leaving at the same time as them.

“Keqing! I haven’t seen you all day, how are you?” Y/N asks with a gleaming smile.

Keqing smiles back, “I’m fine, and you? I hear about the Fatui truce. Are you really going to go through with it? Alone at that..”

Y/N shrugs, “It’s not so bad, especially considering the amount i’m being paid for it” they giggle.

“I guess that makes sense. Do you know which harbinger you’re working with yet?”

Y/N is taken aback, “Wait.. I’m working with a harbinger?” Somehow, this had never occurred to them. They thought that working with the Fatui was bad enough, but a harbinger just seemed such a scary thought.

──★

That evening, Y/N awoke from their short nap as always. They found themselves standing in the familiar entrance of their kitchen, as they do every night. The events of the day lingered in their mind, the strangeness of these sequences which had occurred, still fresh in their memory.

As they made their way over to the countertop to prepare their dinner, they suddenly heard a knock at the door. They rolled their eyes, ‘It’s too late for this’ They mutter to themself.

Upon opening the door, they were greeted by a messenger, a sealed letter in hand. The messenger bowed respectfully and extended their hand to Y/N.

“For you, from Lady Ningguang,” the messenger announced, their voice carrying a note of urgency.

Y/N thanked him, accepting the letter, their curiosity piqued. They began breaking the seal. As they began examining the elegant calligraphy, their eyes widen in surprise. It was a request from her boss, of course, yet normally such requests would have been asked of much earlier than now.

The letter contained a summons for Y/N to report to the Jade Chamber the next morning, earlier than usual. She has requested their presence in order to discuss the important matter they had previously discussed, regarding the ongoing investigation. Furthermore, Y/N was instructed to be prepared with all the evidence they had previously gathered thus far.

As they retired for the evening, their mind buzzed with the thoughts of the upcoming meeting, Y/N couldn’t help but anticipate what was yet to come.

──★

The morning sun was no where to be seen, the sky filled with clouds and dribbles of rain. As the rain poured down in a relentless surge, Y/N hurried through the soaked streets of Liyue Harbour towards the Jade Chamber. Each step was accompanied by a rhythmic patter of raindrops on the cobblestone path, the sound mingling with the distant rumble of thunder.

Arriving at the grand entrance, Y/N was met by Ningguang’s attendants who ushered them inside. Inside was a stark contrast to the dreary weather outside, with a warm golden glow and intricate tapestries adorning the walls.

Lady Ningguang awaited them outside their office, her expression serene despite the downpour outside. Beside her stood Scaramouche, the sixth Harbinger of the Fatui, his demeanour as cold and hard as ever.

Water dripped from the hem of their cloak, “Apologies for my appearance, the rain was quite heavy out there”

Ningguang waved off the concerns with a graceful gesture, “No matter. We have more important matters to discuss”

With that, Y/N and Scaramouche were ushered into her office and took a seat at her desk. Ningguang present the two with a cup of warm, sweet tea, which they both took gratefully.

Scaramouche turns to Y/N, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N,” he says.

Y/N smiles, “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to meet you also,” they spoke, reaching their hand out.

He shook it quickly, not paying much attention to it.

Ningguang began, “As you can see, the situation is dire” She concludes.

Y/N node in agreement, their determination renewed despite the obvious challenges that lay ahead.

Scaramouche however, remained silent, his gaze fixed on Y/N with an intensity that sent shivers down their spine. It was clear that the Harbinger had his own agenda, one that Y/N could only guess at. But in the face of adversity, Y/N knew that they had no choice but to trust in Lady Ningguang’s guidance and cooperate with Scaramouche, no matter how uneasy it made them feel.

The rain continued to pour outside, setting a fitting backdrop to how Y/N felt in this moment. The thunder rumbles through the Jade Chamber, creating a dark and ominous setting, especially considering the circumstances. Ningguang continued to talk of the upcoming partnership the two of them would have, reiterating the importance of find out the truth. After a while, the two were finally dismissed.

Y/N and Scaramouche head to Y/N’s office. By this time, many of Y/N’s coworkers began to show up for their shift too. Everyone froze at the sight of the Harbinger, hushed whispers flooding the building.

As they reached Y/N’s office, Scaramouche sat on the end of their desk while Y/N tried to clean up and sort their things quickly.

“Sorry about the mess,” Y/N mutters, embarrassed.

Scaramouche doesn’t answer, he simply examines the room, perhaps looking for something. His eyes lock on the boquete, sat on Y/N’s window sill in a vase.

“I see you got my flowers,” He says as Y/N is about to sit.

Y/N pauses, “These were from you?” they ask.

Scaramouche nods, “You didn’t read the note? It’s still attached,” he scoffs.

Y/N was confused, “This? all it says is from 6..” they say to themself, “Wait, never mind. Apologies, I only just got what this meant. Thank you for the flowers, I guess,”

Scaramouche laughs, “You seriously didn’t realise? My, should I even be working with someone with such a..” he says, not finishing his sentence.

Y/N was already annoyed with this man. He was seriously begging to piss them off, I mean how dare he come in here and.. insult them? And laugh at them!

They ignore his remarks, sitting down to gather their things, “Shall we begin?”

Chapter 3: Shadows of the Past

Summary:

During a thunderstorm, Y/N and Scaramouche meet in the Jade Chamber to discuss their progress on their case. Y/N presents their limited findings only to be met with Scaramouche’s criticism on the incompetence of Liyue.

The next morning, Scaramouche and Y/N share an awkward yet strange breakfast which changed Y/N’s view on Scaramouche — slightly.

They reflect on the day, remembering the painful memories of their parents.

The rain beat down relentlessly on the windows of the Jade Chamber as Y/N sat in front of Scaramouche at their desk. Thunder rumbles across the city, lightning striking the sky.

“Well, this is all the evidence we have concluded thus far. To put it short, we are lacking in evidence and we have little leads,” Y/N presents, handing a short stack of papers to Scaramouche. Scaramouche reached out a hand and took the paper from them. He skimmed through the pages, which didn’t take long considering the lack of information they had on the subject.

Scaramouche looks up, “I see.. Liyue is more incompetent than I thought,” He mutters, “Well, no matter. You’re lucky I have a few leads.”

Y/N is taken aback, their lips tightened. Unsure on what they should say they begin, “You have leads? I’m all ears.”

“Well yes, to put it simply.. We believe some of our Fatui members may have relations on the incident,” He simply states.

Y/N furrows their eyebrows, “What? How do you know? Wait… You don’t mean yourself, right?”

Scaramouche scoffs, “You really think I’d be working with you if I were the one behind it? No, it’s not me… But I know of this because of the suspicious activity that’s been happening around here.”

Scaramouche and Y/N continue discussing these matters, and how they should go about approaching and interrogating people. The day goes by quickly, and by now it is already 6 pm. Scaramouche could tell you were getting bored and tired of being there, so he suggests that the two of you wrap up for the day.

──★
As Y/N made their way home through the rain-soaked streets of Liyue, the events of the day weighed heavily on their mind. Lost in thought, Y/N nearly missed the narrow alleyway that branched off the main street. Something about the dimly lit passageway tugged at their curiosity, prompting them to pause and peer into its shadowy depths.

What they say sent a shiver down their spine — a group of cloaked figures huddled together, their murmuring voices barely audible above the sound of the rain. The air cracked with tension, and Y/N’s instincts told them something was amiss. Without hesitation, Y/N inched closer, attempting to catch snippets of their conversation as they pressed against the damp brick wall. The figures seemed to be discussing their next move, their words laced with a sense of urgency. As Y/N listened, a sense of unease washed over them. It was clear that whatever these individuals were planning, it was not for the greater good of Liyue.

Y/N considered approaching the group, as they prepared to step forward, a sudden movement caught their eye — the shadowy figures slipping away into the darkness of the alleyway, their identity obscured by the veil of night. A loud clunk emerged from where the figures stood before, a small yet shiny piece lay on the ground.

Y/N approaches, heart pounding in their chest. They bend down to pick up the object, which to their surprise turned out to be a Fatui Insignia. They examined the object, yet nothing seemed off. They quickly stuff it in their pocket and leave as quickly as possible.

As they reach home, they begin to wonder whether or not these people, this insignia, have anything to do with the strange occurrences as of recently. They place the insignia safely in their room, along with their new found evidence written on paper documents. They also reflected on Scaramouche, oh how they despised him. He was constantly so rude to them, despite their best efforts to be kind and hospitable toward him. Never had they offended him, they hoped.

──★
Y/N woke early on Saturday, sunlight filtering through their glass windows. The previous day had been exhausting, spent navigating the intricate details of how they would carry out their investigation. Despite the gravity of the case, Y/N was relieved to finally have the weekend off. As a respective member of the Liyue Qixing, Y/N was used to having to collaborate with others, but Scaramouche was a different breed or partner. The Balladeer, as he was known, was unpredictable, with a sharp tongue that often left Y/N on edge.

Y/N stretched and decided to start the day with a visit to the bustling morning market. The streets were alive with the sounds of people’s conversations, the scents of fresh herbs, and the vibrant colours of fruit and fabrics. They strolled, glancing in every direction, at every stall. They noticed a few stalls, and picked up some jasmine tea and a few fruits. The familiar chatter of the townsfolk was strangely comforting for Y/N, a stark contrast to the uncomfortable conversations with Scaramouche.

As they made their way back home, they noticed a peculiar figure standing at the edge of the harbour, staring out at the horizon. It was Scaramouche, his distinctive hat and different clothes making him unmistakeable. Curious but hesitant, Y/N approached, as to not seem rude.

“Good morning,” they say cautiously, “I didn’t expect to see you here on a day off.”

Scaramouche glanced at them, his expression unreadable. “I don’t have days off,” he replied coldly, “Just moments between tasks.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll their eyes, “Well I was just about to have breakfast. Would you like to join me?”

Scaramouche hesitated, then nodded, “Very well.”

Back at Y/N’s home, they prepared the tea and set out some fruit and bread. They sat in silence for a while, the atmosphere calm and peaceful. Scaramouche’s usual air of menace seemed to have lifted slightly, making him slightly more bearable to be around. It seemed as if his usual self was replaced by an almost contemplative calm version of himself…

“You know,” Y/N began, breaking the silence, “You don’t always have to be on edge. Sometimes it’s good to relax, take things in a little.”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, “And what would you know about my edge?”

Y/N smiled faintly, “Just an observation.”

Scaramouche ignored this, it seemed as if he wanted to get off this topic, so Y/N let it go. They spent the rest of the morning talking about mundane things — the weather, the market, the latest rumours in Liyue. It almost felt strange to Y/N, it was such a huge shift from the kind of talk they had in the past. By now, the two had both finished their breakfast, and seemed ready to get in with their day. Scaramouche told Y/N he had plans he needed to get to, and quickly left only saying a short goodbye.

──★
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the path, Y/N thought about earlier, and thought about the small connection they had made. It was nice to be able to discuss such mundane topics with someone so… cold? or perhaps someone who they thought they could never connect to in such a way.

Y/N walked the halls of their home, which were filled with photo frames, and memories of their loved ones. As they walked, their gaze lingered on one photo in particular — and photo of their parents from when they were just a child. In the picture, their mother and father stood together, smiling brightly, their eyes full of life and love.

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of the image, memories flooding back with painful clarity. Their father had been a brave man, he had always protected his family, yet met a tragic end. Y/N had only been 8 years old when they witnessed his murder, a trauma that left deep scars. The memory of that day was a haunting reminder that often filled their dreams, a nightmare they could never truly awake from. Three years later, their mother had succumbed to cancer. Y/N had been 11, still reeling from the loss of their father, and the death of their mother has shattered any stability they had left. Y/N had been taken in by their uncle, but the sense of loss had never truly disappeared.

Looking at the photo, Y/N felt a mix of sadness and determination. The loss of their parents drove them to pursue a life of justice, determined to find the truth, to prevent this from happening to anyone else. Y/N reached out, gently tracing their fingers over the glass, “I miss you both so much,” they whispered, their voice barely audible. “I hope I’m making you proud”.

Notes:

Hello everyone, I just want to thank you all for reading my story! This is really the first fanfic I’ve actually put effort into. I hope you’re enjoying my series so far, please let me know in the comments if you have any questions or concerns, feedback would be appreciate as well!

Knowing me I’ll most likely forget about writing this one day, but in the meantime i’ll try and upload as much as possible! Since it is a slow burn, it will be a bit of a longer series so it may take a while to finish, but stay tuned for new uploads! Thank you again <3

Chapter 4: Fragments of Truth

Summary:

After creating a list of suspects, Y/N and Scaramouche head out to interrogate their first and most surprising suspect; Tartaglia. With his surprising cooperation, they are unable to uncover some new information regarding the disappearances.

The sky was dimly lit with the early morning light as Y/N arrived at the Jade Chamber once again. The events of the weekend lay heavily in their mind, the discovery of the Fatui Insignia, the strange meeting with Scaramouche and the memories of their parents… They found Scaramouche already waiting in their office, his usual cold demeanour firmly in place.

“Good morning,” Y/N greeted, trying to sound more confident than they felt.

Scaramouche merely nodded, his eyes sharp and focused. “Let’s get started, we don’t have time to waste.”

Y/N produced the Fatui Insignia from their pocket, placing on the table between them. “I found this over the weekend. A group of cloaked figures dropped it in an alley way. It could be connected to our case.”

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed examining the insignia. “Interesting. This could confirm our suspicions about Fatui involvement. We’ll need to follow up on this immediately.”

The morning was spent looking at maps and reports, cross-referencing the insignia with known Fatui members and their recent activity. Scaramouche’s knowledge of the organisation proved valuable. By midday they had compiled a list of potential suspects. Among them were several high-ranking Fatui agents known for their discreet operations. One name stood out: Tartaglia, a harbinger with a reputation for ruthless efficiency and a possible link to the recent disappearances.

“We need to question these individuals,” Y/N said, tapping Tartaglia’s name on the list. “But we’ll have to be careful, if they Fatui are involved they won’t hesitate to cover their tracks.”

Scaramouche nodded. “Agreed, we’ll start with Tartaglia. He had a base of operations on the outskirts of Liyue not too long ago”

As they prepared to leave, a suddenly knock on the door interrupted them. One of Y/N’s colleagues entered, looking flustered. “Y/N, we’ve recieved reports of another disappearance… This time it’s one of our own — Liu.”

Y/N’s heart sank. Liu had been a dedicated member of the team, always eager to help with difficult cases. “Where was he last seen?” they asked, already fearing the worst.

“The harbour,” the woman replies. “He was following up on a lead about the disappearances. We found signs of a struggle, but no sign of Liu.”

Scaramouche’s expression darkened, “This confirms our suspicions. The Fatui agents are getting bolder. We need to move quickly.”

With the added urgency, Y/N and Scaramouche set out for Tartaglia’s base. The journey was intense, each step bringing them closer to a confrontation that could either crack the case wide open or lead to further peril.

──★
They arrive at an imposing structure, half-hidden in the shadow of a cliff. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their uniforms unmistakably Fatui. Y/N and Scaramouche exchanged a glance, silently agreeing on their approach.

They moved silently through the camp, avoiding the guards as to not bring attention to themselves. Once inside, they found Tartaglia in a large Chamber, his back turned as he examined a series of documents.

Without hesitation, Scaramouche stepped forward, “Tartaglia.”

He turned, his expression was surprised, “Well, well. What brings you here, Scaramouche? And you, Qixing Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We’re here about the disappearances, we have reason to believe the Fatui are involved.” Y/N says firmly, stepping forward.

Tartaglia laughed, “Involved? That’s an interesting way to put it. But tell me, what makes you think I have anything to do with it?”

Y/N holds up the insignia, “This was found at a scene of suspicion. We know your people are involved. We want answers.”

Tartaglia’s eyes flicked to the insignia, “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, do you? Very well, if it’s answer’s you seek, you’ll have to catch me first.”

With a swift movement, he conjures a flash of lightning, shocking them as he made his escape through a hidden passage. Y/N and Scaramouche barely had time to react, their frustration palpable.

“We can’t let him get away,” Scaramouche shouted, already moving to find his route.

Y/N followed, “This way,” they directed, leading them through a series of winding corridors. They pursued Tartaglia through the maze-like base, the sound of their footsteps echoing with every movement.

Finally, they caught up to him. Tartaglia had no where to run, he was trapped.

“Tartaglia, you have no where to go.” Scaramouche calls.

Tartaglia stops and turns to face the two of them, he sighs. “Fine, you caught me!” he says, defeated.

“So, do you admit to the crime?” Y/N asks.

Tartaglia shakes his head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t committed any crimes… recently!”

Y/N and Scaramouche glance at each other. Scaramouche furrows his eyebrows, “Oh yeah I’m sure you haven’t… Why did you run then?”

Tartaglia looks down, “Look. I heard about the disappearances while I was in Liyue Harbour, but I have nothing to do with them. To tell you the truth… I know a bit about them.” he explains.

Y/N tilts their head, puzzled expression floods their face.

Tartaglia sighs and reaches into his pocket, producing a fragment of a gem, “I found this a few days ago. I didn’t know what it was at first but after some investigation, I realised it had something to do with the disappearances.”

Y/N took the fragment, their eyes widened as they felt a faint, unsettling energy from it. “This… this is so powerful. Do you know what it is?”

Tartaglia shook his head, “Not exactly. But I believe it’s apart of a larger artifact. One that can manipulate space and time. Whoever controls it has the power to make any wish they desire.”

Scaramouche’s expression darkened, “And you expect us to believe you had no part in it?”

Tartaglia met his gaze unflinchingly. “Believe what you want. I’m telling you the truth. I’ve been hunting down the real culprits. We may be enemies but I have no interest in innocent lives being lost.”

Scaramouche scoffed, “Right. Well, is that all you know?”

Tartaglia nods, “Yes, trust me if I knew more I would’ve told you.”

Y/N sighs, “Well… Thank you for the information.”

Tartaglia replied with a smile, “Of course, if you ever need anything don’t hesistate to ask.”

──★
After their confrontation with Tartaglia, Scaramouche and Y/N headed back to the Jade Chamber to discuss their next course of action. They were both surprised at the little level of detail and information they gained from that; considering the huge influence a Harbinger usually has. Though, it was better than nothing, they thought.

“Well, that’s one down. Who’s next on the list?” Y/N asks Scaramouche.

Scaramouche scans the list, and places a finger on the next name; Zihan S/N.

Y/N paused and their eyes widened. Zihan S/N? Seriously?

“S/N? Isn’t that your last name? Do you know him?” Scaramouche inquired.

Y/N nods hesitantly, still in shock, “Yep… He’s my uncle.”

Chapter 5: Uncomfortable Interrogations

Summary:

After finding out their uncle had involvements with the affairs, Y/N and Scaramouche were forced to interrogate him. Strong emotions call for strong arguments, and an even stronger after effect.

Y/N found themself facing an unexpected plot twist: their own family ties coming under scrutiny. Y/N’s heart sank at the mention of their uncle. While they had always been close, the thought of interrogating him filled them with dread. “My uncle? How did I not know? When we were discussing things we never…” they stammered, trying to keep their voice steady.

Scaramouche fixed them with a steely gaze. “Well. To tell you the truth, he goes under an alias, and we did discuss him. I put down his real name, though I guess I didn’t realise he had your last name.”

Y/N’s mind raced with conflicting emotions. They couldn’t bear the thought of their uncle being involved in such a sinister affair. How could they not know?

“I see..” they manage to mutter, “Understood,” they say quietly, their voice barely about a whisper.

Scaramouche nodded, his expression cold and detached. “Good. We’ll conduct the interrogation in here, in your office. I expect you to remain composed and focused throughout the process,” he states.

With a heavy heart, Y/N agrees and watches as Scaramouche made the necessary arrangements for their uncle’s arrival. Every passing moment felt like an eternity, their nerves on edge as they awaited the inevitable confrontation.

When their uncle finally entered the room, Y/N’s heart clenched with a mixture of fear and apprehension. He looked at them with concern, his eyes filled with worry. “Y/N, what’s going on? Why am I here?”

Before Y/N could respond, Scaramouche took charge, his tone sharp and authoritative. “We have reason to believe that you may have information pertaining to the recent disappearances in Liyue. We need your full cooperation in this matter.”

Their uncle’s expression darkened, a flicker of confusion crossing his features, “Disappearances? I don’t understand. I’m not involved in anything like that.”

Y/N felt an urge of relief at their uncle’s denial, but Scaramouche remained unconvinced. He pressed their uncle for details, his questions growing increasingly accusatory with each passing moment.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N excused themself from the room, their heart pounding with a sense of unease. They wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the Jade Chamber, trying to calm their frayed nerves.

──★
When they returned to their office, they found him alone, his expression dark and foreboding. “Where were you?” he demanded, his voice tinged with annoyance. “We needed you in there.”

Y/N swallowed hard, their throat feeling dry, “I… I needed a moment,” they mumbled, unable to meet his gaze.

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, his tone laced with disdain. “Well, next time, try to be more professional. We don’t have anytime for your emotional outbursts.”

Y/N felt a pang of hurt at his words, the tension between Y/N and Scaramouche reached its peak, emotions simmering beneath the surface, threatening to erupt like a volcano. Y/N’s heart still ached with the weight of their uncle’s interrogation, compounded by Scaramouche’s harsh words. They struggled to contain their frustration as they reentered the office, thick with unspoken resentment.

Scaramouche’s icy demeanour only fuelled Y/N’s rage. “I needed a moment,” they repeated, their voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “You have no idea what it’s like to interrogate your own family.”

Scaramouche scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “Emotion has no place in this investigation, Y/N. We need to remain focused on the issue at hand.”

Y/N’s patience snapped like a twig, “You think I don’t know that?” they snapped back, their voice rising with each word. “You have no idea what I’m going through. You have no right to judge me!”

The room crackled with tension as Y/N and Scaramouche locked eyes, their emotions colliding like opposing forces of nature. In that moment, it was as if the entire weight of their shared frustrations came crashing down upon them, threatening to tear them apart at the seams.

Scaramouche's expression hardened, his gaze piercing through Y/N like a dagger. "I'm not here to coddle your fragile feelings," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "If you can't handle the pressure, then maybe you don't belong here."

Y/N's vision blurred with tears of anger and frustration. Without a second thought, they lashed out, their fist connecting with Scaramouche's jaw with a satisfying thud. He staggered backward, caught off guard by the sudden assault.

For a moment, silence descended upon the room, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the dull ache of pain. Y/N stood there, trembling with a mix of adrenaline and regret, their knuckles throbbing with the force of their anger.

Scaramouche recovered quickly, his expression a mask of cold indifference. "Is that all you've got?" he sneered, wiping away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Pathetic."

Y/N's chest heaved with the effort of suppressing their emotions. Without another word, they turned on their heel and stormed out of the office, leaving Scaramouche behind in a cloud of tension and unresolved conflict.

As they walked away, the weight of their actions settled upon them like a heavy cloak. They knew that their outburst had only made matters worse, deepening the rift between them and Scaramouche. Yet, in that moment of raw emotion, they couldn't bring themselves to care. All they could think about was the overwhelming sense of betrayal and frustration that consumed them, threatening to tear them apart from the inside out.

──★
After storming out of Scaramouche’s office, Y/N found themself in a daze, their mind clouded with a whirlwind of emotions. As Y/N wandered through the streets of Liyue, they found themself in the middle of a bustling street. The city seemed to blur around them, the vibrant colours and lively chatter of the crowd fading into the background. Lost in their thoughts, Y/N nearly collided with someone rounding the corner. They stumbled back, ready to apologise, when they realised who it was — Tartaglia, the Harbinger who they met earlier that day.

“Y/N are you alright?” Tartaglia asked, concern evident in his voice as he reached a hand out to steady them.

Y/N nodded, offering a weak smile, “I’m… I’m fine. Just had a rough day.”

Tartaglia’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine sympathy. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/N sighed and shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s probably best I don’t”

He said gently, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Y/N simply nods, too dazed to give any verbal response.

Tartaglia understood, his expression turning thoughtful. “Well how about we take your mind off things for a while?” he suggested with a mischievous grin. “I was just on my way to meet a friend at a nearby bar. Care to join us?”

Y/N hesitated, the idea of spending time with Tartaglia both tempting and daunting. But in the end, the prospect of escaping their troubles proved too enticing to resist.

“Sure,” they said, mustering a small smile, “Lead the way.”

Together, Y/N and Tartaglia made their way through the winding streets of Liyue, their conversation light and easy as they navigated the bustling crowds. Eventually. they arrived at a quaint little bar tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, its warm glow inviting them inside. As they entered, Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Tartaglia’s friend — a tall, elegant figure sitting at the bar with a serene smile on his face. It was none other than Zhongli, the consultant whose wisdom and knowledge were renowned throughout Liyue.

“Zhongli, this is Y/N,” Tartaglia introduced with a grin. “Y/N meet Zhongli.”

Y/N greeted Zhongli with a smile, to which Zhongli returned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” said Zhongli, his voice calm and reassuring.

The two finally sat down beside Zhongli, and immediately ordered drinks. Y/N found themself relaxing in the new company of Zhongli and Tartaglia, their worries and troubles beginning to fade away. With every sip, they slowly began to forget everything that had happened earlier today. For the first time in what felt like ages, they allowed themself to enjoy the moment.

As the evening unfolded in the cozy bar, Y/N felt their worries melt away with every sip. But as they were beginning to lose themself in the rhythm of laughter and conversation, a familiar figure strode through the door, his presence casting a shadow over the atmosphere. It was Scaramouche, his expression a mask of cold as he scanned the scene before him.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, the haze of alcohol blurring their senses as they struggled to steady themself.

“Scaramouche!” Tartaglia called, waving his hand, unaware of their shenanigans from earlier.

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he approached their table. That was when he noticed Y/N, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Tartaglia’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned back into his chair, observing the scene with a sense of detached amusement. “Well, well, well,” he murmured, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Look who decided to grace us with his presence.”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes, not giving him any response.

Zhongli regarded Scaramouche with a serene expression, his gaze unwavering with quiet curiosity. “A surprise visit I take it?” he mused, his tone tinged with subtle amusement.

Scaramouche nods, “I guess you could call it that.”

He finally turns to my, “Y/N,” he said curtly, “What are you doing here?”

Y/N’s heart spun with a dizzying mix of emotions, their tongue clumsy and uncoordinated as they tried to form a coherent response, “I-I’m just… h-having a good time,” they stammered, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Scaramouche’s gaze softened ever so slightly, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes as he glanced at Y/N, “You’re drunk,” he observed flatly.

Y/N chuckled, the sound ringing out in the quiet of the bar. “Maybe I am,” they admitted, a playful glint in their voice.

“By curtesy of me, of course!” Tartaglia chuckles, holding up a bag of money.

Scaramouche shook his head, “I should’ve known.”

Tartaglia gleams, “Would you like a drink? On me, of course.” he offers kindly.

“Alright, I’ll have a drink.” Scaramouche said, his voice tinged with a note of exasperation.

Chapter 6: Hatred From Dusk Til Dawn

Summary:

After waking up the next morning, Y/N quickly realised where they were and had a slight change of mind in who Scaramouche was. Though this didn’t last long, because by the end of the day, they were back to where they started.

As the night continued, the liveliness grew, laughter and conversation filled the bar. The tension between Y/N and Scaramouche continued, but despite this, Tartaglia and Zhongli remained unruffled.

Scaramouche, trying to stay professional, ordered the least alcoholic drinks he could, Y/N on the other hand was quite intoxicated by now. While Y/N usually tried their best to hide their emotions, always bottling them up, the words just spilled out of their mouth. As Y/N continued to indulge in their intoxication, the words of earlier spilled from their lips.

“And then,” Y/N slurred, their voice tinged with defiance, “I punched him right in the jaw! Can you believe it?”

Tartaglia’s eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face at the audacity of Y/N’s actions. “You punched Scaramouche?” he exclaimed, his voice with a hint of admiration “Now that’s something I would have liked to see!”

Zhongli regarded Y/N with a measured expression, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he listened to the story unfold. “It seems you had quite the eventful day,” he observed calmly, his tone betraying a hint of amusement.

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, their words tumbling out in a flurry of excitement. “It was exhilarating,” they declared, “I felt like I was in control, like I was standing up for myself.”

As Y/N regaled Tartaglia and Zhongli with the details of their confrontation with Scaramouche, the atmosphere in the bar seemed to shift, the tension of earlier giving a sense of amusement. Despite Scaramouche’s silent presence looming in the background, his stoic demeanour serving as a stark contrast to Y/N’s animated storytelling, the mood remained light.

As the night wore on and the effects of the alcohol began to take their toll, Y/N found themself swaying unsteadily on their feet, their vision blurred and their mind clouded with a thick fog of intoxication. Despite their best efforts to remain composed, it was clear they were in no condition to make the journey home alone. Sensing their distress, Scaramouche stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he offered a silent gesture of support.

“Come on,” he said, his tone devoid of its usual edge, “I’ll take you home.”

Y/N nodded weakly, grateful for his kindness, despite what happened earlier. They leaned on his arm for support, and made their way out of the bar and into the cool night air, the distant hum of the city fading into the background as they navigated the deserted streets. With each step, Y/N’s senses grew increasingly filled by the haze of alcohol, their mind drifting in and out of consciousness as they struggled to stay upright. But Scaramouche remained steadfast by their side, his presence a reassuring anchor in the darkness of the night.

Eventually, they arrived at Scaramouche’s hotel room — a modest yet comfortable dwelling tucked away in a quiet corner of Liyue. With gentle hands, he guided Y/N inside, setting them into his bed with soft blankets draped over their shoulders.

As the night stretched on and the darkness gave way to the soft light of dawn, Y/N stirred from their slumber, their head throbbing with the remnants of a hangover. Blinking blearily, they glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings, their memory hazy and fragmented. Y/N got up out of the bed and headed out the door, determined to see where they were.

It wasn’t until they saw Scaramouche stood beside the window, his silhouette bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun, that the events of the previous night came back to them. They approached slowly, their heart pounding with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment.

“Scaramouche,” they murmured, their voice hoarse with sleep, “What… What happened?”

Scaramouche turned to face them, his expression inscrutable as he regarded them with a quiet intensity. “You were drunk,” he said simply, his tone clipped. “I brought you here to sober you up.”

Y/N nodded slowly, their cheeks flushing with embarrassment as they recalled their drunken antics from the night before, “I… I’m Sorry,” they muttered, their gaze dropping to the floor. “I didn’t mean to say that stuff and cause any trouble.”

Scaramouche’s features softened ever so slightly, a rare flicker of empathy crossing his usual impassive expression. “It’s fine,” he said gruffly, “Just… try to be more careful next time.”

Y/N nods slowly, “Right. I’ll try… Why did you bring me here? You didn’t have to help me.” they ask.

Scaramouche shrugs, “Look. Don’t misinterpret anything. I need you for this investigation.” he responds, back to his cold self.

And with that, he turned back to the window, leaving Y/N to grapple with whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them. As they stood in silence, the weight of last nights events settled upon them like a heavy blanket.

“Are you, uh, hungry?” Y/N said tentatively, breaking the silence, “I could cook us breakfast.”

Scaramouche glanced at them over his shoulder, his expression unreadable as he considered the offer. After a moments hesitation, he nodded curtly, “I suppose that would be acceptable,” his tone gruff but not unkind.

Y/N made their way to the kitchen, their mind buzzing with the remnants of their hangover but their determination unwavering. They rummaged through the cupboards, gathering the ingredients they needed to prepare a simple yet satisfying meal. As they worked, the rhythmic clatter of pots and pans filled the air, mingling with the soft sounds of sizzling as the ingredients came to life on the stove.

Before long, the aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, drawing Scaramouche into the kitchen with an almost involuntary curiosity. He watched in silence as Y/N played the food, a faint hint of appreciation flickering in his eyes.

As they sat down to eat, the tension that had hung between them seemed to dissipate. With each bite, they exchanged small talk, the conversation flowing more easily than either of them had expected. As they finish their meal, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over them.

“You’re quite the chef,” Scaramouche announces, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Y/N smile softly, “I am? Well, thank you.”

“I suppose we should get to work. It’s getting quite late, and we need to discuss what went down while you, um, left the room during the interrogation.” Scaramouche says, back to his usual self.

Y/N agreed, and the two of them quickly got ready for the day, not saying a word.

──★
As Y/N and Scaramouche made their way back to the office after sharing breakfast, a sense of unease settled over them like a heavy shroud. The events of the morning hung heavy in the air, lingering between them like an unspoken question waiting to be answered.

Once inside the familiar confines of the office, Scaramouche wasted no time in getting down to business. With a steely resolve, he recounted the events that had transpired during Y/N's absence, detailing the interrogation with their uncle and the unsettling revelation that he had remained silent, despite Scaramouche's suspicions of his guilt.

"He knows more than he's letting on," Scaramouche concluded grimly, his jaw set in a tight line. "I'm certain of it. We need to find him again, before he slips through our fingers."

Y/N felt a knot form in the pit of their stomach as they listened to Scaramouche's words, a sense of dread creeping over them at the thought of confronting their uncle once more. But despite their apprehension, they knew that they couldn't afford to ignore the truth any longer.

“I understand. This time I’ll be fine.” Y/N mentions, swallowing their feelings.

With that, the two of them set out to track down Y/N’s uncle, scouring the city for any sign of his whereabouts. They checked his house, his place of work, and anywhere else they could think of — nothing, he was no where to be found. But as the hours stretched on and their search yielded no results, a sense of frustration began to gnaw at the edges of Y/N's consciousness, their anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

"We need to find him," they muttered, their voice tinged with desperation. "We can't let him get away."

Scaramouche's expression hardened, his patience wearing thin as the reality of their predicament began to sink in. "I know," he snapped, his voice sharp with annoyance. "But we can't do anything if he's disappeared into thin air."

As the day wore on and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, Y/N and Scaramouche found themselves at a loss, their search yielding no results. With a heavy heart, they returned to the office, the weight of their failure pressing down upon them like a suffocating blanket.

“For fucks sake. If you didn’t bail on me last time, this wouldn’t have happened!” Scaramouche roared, banging his fists on the desk in front of them.

Y/N jumped, confusion and anger began to fill their face, “What? How is this MY fault? Maybe it’s really your fault,” they mutter.

Scaramouche is taken aback, “Seriously? How the hell is this my fault? I was the only one doing my job.”

Y/N is incredibly frustrated at this point, “Well clearly you can’t do it well enough. You probably scared him off you idiot!” they shout.

The two continue bickering, blaming each other for anything and everything, insults flying across the room, voices raised. Outside the office, people overheard the yelling and curiously tried to peer into the room. It even went so far as to Ningguang’s office, she headed over, confused and bothered.

Ningguang burst through the door, “What is going on?” She says, stern voice.

Y/N pauses, “Oh my… I deeply apologise for causing any havoc, Lady Ningguang.”

Ningguang nods, then glances over at Scaramouche, who sat with his arms crossed and anger washed over his face. “Yeah, I’m sorry you have such an incompetent employee!”

Ningguang is shocked at this, her face darkened. “Excuse me?” she began, “Would someone like to explain what’s going on?”

Contrary to earlier, the two of them stayed silent, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Ningguang sighs in frustration, “Right. Now you’re quiet,” she mutters, head in hands, “Do I need for someone else to take over this case? Hm?”

Y/N shook their head, “No… I just,” they sighed, “I’m sorry, I’ll try harder next time.”

With that, Ningguang left, and the room was filled with tension that felt like a thick blanket, suffocating them. Instead of continuing, they decided to call it a day, and head home instead. How did the morning start off so well, only to unravel into hatred by the days end?

Notes:

Hello again! Thank you for those who have read up until this point, let me know what you think of this story so far, and let me know if there’s anything you don’t like!

While it is a slow burn, I’m afraid if I push it out too far, I may forget about the story so I’m not too sure how many chapters there will be, and I’m not too sure if it seems like I’m moving too fast, so sorry if I am!

Stay tuned for my next upload !!

Chapter 7: Unspoken Truths

Summary:

After yesterday’s argument, it left Y/N and Scaramouche in an awkward and uncomfortable situation. Though, despite that, they decide to search for Zihan again, which leads to an emotional conversation Y/N would never have thought would happen.

As the new day dawned, the atmosphere in the office was thick with tension. Y/N and Scaramouche went about their tasks in uneasy silence, the events of the previous day casting a long shadow over their interactions. Despite their best efforts to focus on work, the awkwardness between them was palpable, a constant reminder of the unresolved conflict that lingered beneath the surface.

By mid morning, Y/N could no longer bear the weight of the silence. Gathering their courage, they glanced up at Scaramouche in front of them, their heart pounding with a mix of emotions. “Scaramouche,” they began hesitantly, their voice barely a whisper, “I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I was upset and took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.”

Scaramouche looked up from his work, his expression inscrutable as he regarded Y/N. For a moment, the silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally he gave a small nod, his voice measured and calm. “Apology accepted.”

Though his response was brief, Y/N felt a surge of relief wash over them, the tension in their shoulders easing ever so slightly. “Thank you,” they murmured, their gaze meeting his for a fleeting moment before they turned back to their work.

──★
As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the bustling city of Liyue, Y/N and Scaramouche continued to work, finding themselves beginning to get stuck.

“Should we try to find my uncle again?” Y/N asked tentatively, breaking the silence that had settled over the office.

Scaramouche looked up from his work, his expression thoughtful. After a moment’s consideration, he nodded. “Yes, we need to find him. He might hold the key to solving this case.”

The two agreed and set out once more, scouring the city for any sign of Zihan. Their search led them to the outskirts of Liyue, where Y/N’s childhood home stood nestled among the hills. The house, though aged and weathered, still held the echoes of a once vibrant past.

As they approached the house, a sense of nostalgia washed over Y/N, memories of their childhood flooding back with every step. After knocking to no answer, they entered the home, the air inside thick with the scent of old wood.

They combed through the rooms, searching for any clues that might lead them to Zihan. As they moved from room to room, Scaramouche’s gaze fell upon a framed photograph on a dusty shelf. The picture showed a young Y/N, beaming with joy, flanked between a man and a woman whose eyes sparkled with life and joy.

Scaramouche picked up the frame, studying the faces in the photograph. “Who are they?” he asked, his voice unusually gentle.

Y/N paused, a wave of emotion washing over them as they looked at the picture. “Those are my parents,” they replied softly. “My father was murdered when I was eight. I saw it happen. My mother died of cancer three years later.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Y/N’s words hanging in the air. Scaramouche’s expression softened, a rare flicker of empathy crossing his features. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual edge.

Y/N nodded, their eyes misty with memories. “Thank you,” they whispered, their voice barely audible. “I just… I need to find my uncle. He’s the only family I have left.”

Scaramouche placed the photo back on the shelf gently. “We’ll find him,” he said with resolve that seemed to echo through the room.

The two of them continued to look through every room, turning everything inside and out in a desperate effort to find any clue they could. For a moment, Y/N had given up, and they sat down at the kitchen table while Scaramouche scoured the neighbouring room. That was when they noticed something sticking out of a book on the bench in front of them. Immediately, Y/N sprung up out of their seat and pulled it out of the pages. It was a piece of paper that had… an address!

“Scaramouche, I think I found something!” Y/N called, excitement plastered across their face.

Scaramouche came running into the room, anticipating what Y/N would say, “What? What is it?” he asks hurriedly.

Y/N holds up a small piece of paper with an address written across the middle, “Look! Do you think this is where he went?” they ponder.

Scaramouche examines the paper, then glances up at Y/N and nods, “It must be.”

The two of them agreed that it was getting really late, the sun already setting outside, and that they would continue their search tomorrow.

──★
As Y/N and Scaramouche walked back to the city, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting a warm, golden light across the landscape, Y/N felt a mix of emotions. The search for their uncle had finally turned around, and the weight of their past had caught up to them.

After a long stretch of silence, glanced at Scaramouche, curiosity and a desire to reciprocate lingering in their mind. “Scaramouche,” they began hesitantly, “I’ve told you about my parents… What about yours?”

Scaramouche’s steps faltered slightly, and he turned his gaze away, a shadow crossing his face. For a moment, Y/N thought he might not answer at all. Finally he spoke, his voice low and guarded, “It doesn’t matter.”

The dismissal stung, but Y/N pressed on, sensing the pain behind his words. “Are you okay?” they asked gently, their concerns genuine. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but I’m here if you need to.”

Scaramouche’s expression hardened, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions kept tightly in check. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said sharply, his tone brooking no argument.

Y/N nodded slowly, respecting his boundaries. “Alright,” they said softly, their voice tinged with understanding. “Just know that you’re not alone.”

Scaramouche didn’t respond, his silence more telling than any words could have been. They continued their walk back to the city in silence, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. As they reached the city, the lights of Liyue Harbour twinkled softly in the distance.

They were now nearing Y/N’s house, still not saying a word, until Y/N finally spoke up, “I guess this is goodbye. Shall I keep this paper with me?” they ask gently.

Scaramouche nods, “Alright, you can keep it, but don’t forget to bring it with you tomorrow.”

Y/N chuckles, “Yeah, yeah, I won’t forget it, don’t worry!” they laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

As Y/N approached their front door, Scaramouche stopped, “See you tomorrow,” he calls.

Y/N smiles and glances over their shoulder at him, “Good night, Scaramouche.”

Chapter 8: Under Duress

Summary:

After leaving home, Y/N was stopped by a woman who needed help with directions. Of course, being the person they are, Y/N helped her out, only to find themself in a tricky situation.

Notes:

Warning:
This chapter contains minor depictions of violence!!

The next morning, Y/N made their way to the office, the address tucked securely away in their pocket. The morning air was crisp and invigorating, each step bringing them closer to the truth they desperately sought.

As they turned a corner, a voice called out to them. “Excuse me, can you help me with directions?”

Y/N paused and looked towards the source of the voice. A young woman stood there, looking slightly lost and anxious. Her eyes flickered with a sense of urgency that Y/N couldn’t ignore.

“Sure, where are you headed?” Y/N asked, their instincts guiding them to assist.

The woman mentioned an address that coincidentally was on the way to their office. “I’m actually headed in that direction, I can take you there,” Y/N offered with a smile.

As they walked together, the streets grew quieter and more secluded. A nagging feeling of unease crept into Y/N’s mind, but they pushed it aside, focusing on their good deed.

Suddenly, as they reached an alleyway near the supposed destination, the woman stopped and turned to Y/N with a chilling smile. Before Y/N could react, they were surrounded by a group of men who emerged from the shadows, their intentions clear.

“What’s going on?” Y/N demanded, their hand instinctively reaching for their weapon.

The woman’s smile widened. “Sorry, but we need you to come with us.”

Despite their attempts to fend off the attackers, Y/N was overpowered and restrained. A cloth was pressed against their face, and as the world around them blurred, they realised they had walked right into a trap. The last thing they saw before darkness claimed them was the woman’s mocking smile.

When Y/N awoke, they were in an unfamiliar, dimly lit room, their hands bound. The throbbing in their head and the tightness in their chest made it clear that escape would not be easy. They could hear muffled voices outside the door, discussing their fate.

Straightening to hear, Y/N picked up fragments of their conversation. “We need to find out what they know… The boss will be pleased… Make sure they’re secure…”

Panic surged through Y/N, but they forced themselves to remain calm. They had to find a way out, to get back to Scaramouche and the investigation. The realization hit them hard—this was no random ambush. Someone didn't want them to uncover the truth, and they were willing to go to great lengths to ensure that.

Determined not to let fear consume them, Y/N began to work on loosening the ropes binding their hands. They had to get out of here and warn Scaramouche. The fate of their uncle, and possibly many others, depended on it. As Y/N worked furiously to loosen the ropes binding their hands, the door to the dimly lit room creaked open. A man wearing a mask entered, his presence filling the room with an ominous air. His cold eyes locked onto Y/N, noticing their efforts to escape.

"Trying to get away, are we?" he sneered, stepping closer. Before Y/N could react, he struck them across the face with a swift, brutal motion. Pain exploded across Y/N's cheek, but they bit back a cry, refusing to show weakness.

The man grabbed a chair and sat down in front of Y/N, his posture exuding menace. "Let's make this simple," he said, his voice icy. "Tell me what you know about the disappearances in Liyue."

Y/N glared at him, their resolve unwavering despite the throbbing pain. "I don't know what you're talking about," they spat, their voice defiant.

The man's expression hardened, and he leaned in closer. "You're lying," he hissed. "We know you've been investigating. We know you have information. Tell me everything, and maybe I'll let you go."

Y/N remained silent, their eyes blazing with determination. The man sighed, as if disappointed. "Stubborn, aren't we? Perhaps a little more persuasion is in order."

He stood up and began to pace, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the side of his leg. "You see," he continued, "people like you, who stick their noses where they don't belong, tend to disappear. Just like the others. But I'm feeling generous today. Give me the information, and you might just walk out of here."

Y/N's mind raced. They knew they couldn't give in, couldn't reveal anything that might jeopardize the investigation or their uncle. "I don't know anything," they repeated, their voice steady despite the fear gnawing at their insides.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he slammed his fist on the table beside them, making Y/N flinch. "You're testing my patience," he growled. "We have ways of making you talk, ways that you wouldn't like. So I'll ask one last time: What do you know about the disappearances?"

Y/N met his gaze, their expression resolute. "Nothing. I know nothing."

The man let out a frustrated growl and turned away, muttering to himself. "Very well. Have it your way. But remember, you brought this on yourself."

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Y/N alone once more. The encounter had left them shaken, but their resolve was stronger than ever. They couldn't afford to break. For their uncle, for Liyue, and for the truth, they had to find a way out of this nightmare and bring those responsible to justice.

Minutes felt like hours as Y/N remained alone in the dimly lit room, the tension suffocating. Their hands were still bound, but they had managed to loosen the ropes slightly. Just as they were about to attempt another escape, the door creaked open once more. The masked man re-entered, this time carrying a metal bat, which he swung idly, creating a menacing rhythm.

"So," he said, his voice dripping with malice, "you still think you can keep your mouth shut?"

Y/N’s heart pounded, but they forced themselves to meet his gaze, their eyes hardening with resolve. "I told you, I don't know anything," they replied, their voice unwavering.

The man stopped in front of them, tapping the bat against the floor. "You think this is a game?" he snarled, lifting the bat to rest it on his shoulder. "If you don't start talking, this bat is going to do some serious damage. Last chance."

Y/N swallowed hard, but their expression remained defiant. "Do whatever you want. I'm not telling you anything."

The man’s eyes flashed with anger, and in one swift motion, he brought the bat down hard, stopping just inches from Y/N’s knee. The threat was clear, and the sound of metal striking concrete echoed ominously through the room.

"You think you're tough?" he spat, raising the bat again. "Let's see how tough you really are."

Y/N braced themselves, refusing to show fear. They knew the information they held was too important to be given up, no matter the cost.

The man swung the bat again, this time grazing Y/N’s shin with a painful thud. The pain shot through their leg, but they clenched their jaw, refusing to cry out.

"Last chance," the man growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me what you know, or the next hit will be worse."

Y/N looked up at him, their eyes filled with a mix of defiance and determination. "Go to hell," they said through gritted teeth.

Chapter 9: A Troubling Discovery

Summary:

After Y/N was late, worry grew over Scaramouche, beginning to question what they were doing and why they were late. He was getting impatient, and a little worried, so he decided to find out for himself what had occurred.

Scaramouche stood in the bustling office, glancing at the clock on the wall. Y/N was late, which was unusual. The minutes ticked by, each one amplifying his concern. Where could they be?

Impatience gnawed at him, and he decided to seek out answers. He approached Ningguang, who was immersed in her work. "Have you seen Y/N this morning?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Ningguang looked up, her expression calm but inquisitive. "No, I haven't seen them today. Why do you ask?"

Scaramouche frowned, a slight edge of worry creeping into his voice. "They're late, and it's not like them. I was wondering if anyone has seen them."

Ningguang shook her head. "I'm afraid I haven't. Maybe you should check with Keqing."

With a curt nod, Scaramouche moved on to Keqing's office. She was busy with paperwork but looked up as he entered. "Scaramouche, what brings you here?"

"I'm looking for Y/N. Have you seen them?" he asked, a hint of urgency slipping into his tone.

Keqing furrowed her brows. "No, I haven't. They didn't mention anything about being late or absent today?"

Scaramouche shook his head. "No, they didn't."

The worry was now unmistakable. He left Keqing's office, his mind racing with possibilities. Where could they have gone? They had a crucial investigation to continue, and Y/N had never been one to shirk responsibility.

Determined to find them, Scaramouche left the building and started retracing the path Y/N would typically take to the office. He scanned the crowded streets, his sharp eyes searching for any sign of them. The morning traffic of Liyue was as busy as ever, but there was no trace of Y/N.

He asked a few street vendors and passersby if they had seen Y/N, describing their appearance and usual demeanor. Each response was a negative, shaking his resolve a little more each time.

──★
As the hours passed, Scaramouche's frustration grew. How could they just disappear? His thoughts churned, flipping through every possible scenario, each more troubling than the last. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong. Finally, as evening approached and the streets began to empty, Scaramouche returned to the office, his mind still racing. He had failed to find Y/N, and the uncertainty gnawed at him. He would have to think of another approach, but for now, the unanswered questions weighed heavily on his mind.

Scaramouche stood in the quiet office, wrestling with his options. The logical part of him suggested that he wait and see if Y/N turned up on their own, but an unfamiliar, unsettling concern gnawed at him. He couldn't just stand by idly.

Making up his mind, he decided to head to Y/N's home. If something had happened to them, perhaps he could find some clues there. The journey through the rain-soaked streets of Liyue felt longer than usual.

As he approached Y/N's home, a sense of dread washed over him. The door was ajar, and the faintest signs of forced entry were visible. He pushed the door open cautiously, his instincts on high alert. The inside of the house was a mess. Furniture was overturned, and personal belongings were strewn across the floor. Scaramouche's heart sank. Someone had definitely been here, and it wasn't Y/N. He began to methodically search through the chaos, looking for any clue that might hint at Y/N's whereabouts.

It didn't take long for him to find something unusual. Among the scattered papers and broken objects, he spotted a small badge with a distinctive logo. Scaramouche picked it up, turning it over in his hand. The design was unfamiliar to him, but it looked like it could belong to a gang or an organization.

"Could this be connected to the disappearances?" he wondered aloud, his mind racing. The badge might be a clue, but it also raised more questions. Who had broken into Y/N's home, and why? Were they after Y/N specifically, or was it something they had discovered during their investigation?

Y/N had been targeted, and he needed to find them before it was too late. He pocketed the badge and took one last look around the wrecked home, his resolve hardening. He knew he had to act quickly. With the badge as his only lead, he would have to dig deeper into its origins. It was time to gather information and find out who was behind this. Y/N's life might depend on it, and Scaramouche was not about to let them down.

Notes:

A bit of a shorter chapter, but I didn’t want to add too much. I’ll try make up for it with the next chapter :) Let me know if you guys would prefer longer chapters or shorter chapters — or if the current length is fine.

Thank you guys for the kudos and bookmark! <3

Chapter 10: The Black Lotus

Summary:

After discovering this mystery badge, Scaramouche heads to the Ministry of Civil Affairs to find out what organisation they were. Ms. Yu, secretary of the Ministry, tells him it belongs to The Black Lotus.

Badge in hand, Scaramouche made his way to the Ministry of Civil Affairs. The usually crowded and lively streets of Liyue felt oppressive today, every face a potential threat, every shadow hiding a danger. The Ministry was a beacon of order and structure amid the chaotic city, and Scaramouche walked briskly through its halls, heading straight for Ms. Yu, the knowledgeable and efficient secretary who always seemed to have her finger on the pulse of Liyue's underworld activities.

"Ms. Yu," Scaramouche greeted as he approached her desk. She looked up from her paperwork, her sharp eyes immediately focusing on him.

"Scaramouche," she acknowledged, setting her work aside. "What brings you here?"

He placed the badge on her desk, pointing to the logo. "I found this at Y/N's home. They’ve gone missing, and their place was ransacked. Do you know what this logo represents?"

Ms. Yu picked up the badge, scrutinizing it closely. Her expression shifted slightly, a hint of recognition in her eyes. "Yes, I do recognize this," she said, her tone grave. "This belongs to a large gang organization known for their violent activities. They call themselves the Black Lotus."

Scaramouche's eyes narrowed. "The Black Lotus? What can you tell me about them?"

Ms. Yu leaned back in her chair, her expression serious. "The Black Lotus is notorious in Liyue for their ruthless methods. They're involved in various criminal activities, including extortion, smuggling, and even abductions. They're well-organized and difficult to infiltrate. They operate mostly in the shadows, but we have intel that suggests they have a hideout somewhere in the outskirts of Liyue."

Scaramouche felt a mix of anger and urgency. "Do you have any specific locations where they might be hiding out?"

Ms. Yu shook her head. "Our information is limited. We know they operate out of several places, but the exact locations are well-guarded secrets. However, there have been whispers about increased activity in the abandoned warehouses near the harbor. It might be worth checking out."

Scaramouche nodded, his resolve hardening. "Thank you, Ms. Yu. This is helpful."

"Be careful," she warned. "The Black Lotus is dangerous. If they've taken Y/N, they'll be heavily guarded. You'll need to be prepared for a fight."

Scaramouche gave her a curt nod. "I always am."

──★
The abandoned warehouses near the harbor loomed ominously in the fading light of day. Scaramouche approached cautiously, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of the Black Lotus. The place was eerily quiet, but he could sense the presence of people nearby.

As he rounded a corner, he spotted a group of three — two men and one woman. They were standing near one of the warehouse entrances, talking in low voices. The woman stood confidently, her posture relaxed, while the two men appeared more anxious.

Scaramouche approached them, his demeanor cold and calculated. As he drew nearer, one of the men, a scrawny figure with nervous eyes, recognized him. The man's face paled, and he took a step back, fear evident in his eyes.

"You," Scaramouche said, addressing the group. "Are you part of the Black Lotus?"

The woman's eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms. "Who's asking?" she replied, her voice laced with suspicion.

The other man, a burly individual with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. "Yeah, how do you know about the Black Lotus?" he demanded, his tone threatening.

Scaramouche ignored the burly man's question and focused on the nervous one, who was visibly trembling. "I don't have time for games," he said, his voice icy. "Tell me where your hideout is, and I might let you walk away."

The nervous man stammered, "I-I don't know what you're talking about!"

The woman stepped closer, her eyes fixed on Scaramouche. "You're awfully bold for someone who just walked into our territory," she said. "What makes you think we'll tell you anything?"

Scaramouche's patience was wearing thin. He took a step forward, his presence intimidating. "I don't have time to waste," he said. "Your friend here seems to know who I am. He can tell you what happens to those who stand in my way."

The nervous man swallowed hard, his fear palpable. "Please," he pleaded, "we don't want any trouble. We...we can tell you what you want to know, just...just don't hurt us."

The woman shot the nervous man a glare but seemed to reconsider her stance. "Fine," she said, her tone begrudging. "But you better make it worth our while. What do you want to know?"

Scaramouche's eyes narrowed. "Where is your hideout? And where is Y/N?"

The woman hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "There's an old warehouse deeper in the complex. That's where our main operations are. As for Y/N, I don't know. They brought someone in earlier, but I haven't seen them since."

Scaramouche nodded, his mind already formulating a plan. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said coldly. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

The trio wasted no time in making their escape, leaving Scaramouche alone with the information he needed. He turned his gaze toward the deeper part of the warehouse complex, determination burning in his eyes.

──★
As Scaramouche approached the entrance to the old warehouse, his senses sharpened. The air was thick with tension, and he could feel the eyes of the guards boring into him. Without a word, they lunged at him, weapons drawn, intent on stopping him in his tracks.

Scaramouche didn't hesitate. With lightning speed and precision, he met their attacks head-on, each strike calculated to disarm and incapacitate. His movements were fluid, a deadly dance of combat honed through years of training and experience. The guards stood no chance against the Harbinger's skill, and one by one, they fell before him.

With the path clear, Scaramouche entered the warehouse, his heart pounding with anticipation. Inside, the scene was chaotic. Dozens of people moved about, their faces obscured by shadows, their voices murmuring in hushed tones. Scaramouche navigated through the maze of crates and equipment, his senses alert for any sign of Y/N.

He moved with purpose, his eyes scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat and fear, but Scaramouche remained undeterred. He had come too far to turn back now.

As he searched, his mind raced with questions. Where was Y/N? What had the Black Lotus done to them? And why had they been targeted in the first place?

Lost in his thoughts, Scaramouche was caught off guard as a heavy blow struck the back of his head. Pain shot through him, but he refused to succumb to darkness. With a sharp intake of breath, he whirled around, his instincts kicking into overdrive. His assailant stood before him, a menacing, masked figure with a twisted grin plastered across his face. This one was different, stronger and more determined than the rest. But Scaramouche was not one to back down from a challenge.

Without hesitation, he launched into action, meeting the man's attacks with calculated precision. The two clashed in a flurry of blows, each strike resonating with a fierce determination. Despite his adversary's strength, Scaramouche held his ground, his resolve unshaken.

As the fight raged on, Scaramouche could feel the weight of his mission pressing down on him. Y/N's fate hung in the balance, and he would not let anything stand in his way. With a swift and decisive move, he managed to restrain his opponent, pinning him to the ground.

"Where is Y/N?" Scaramouche demanded, his voice laced with a steely edge.

The man's laughter echoed through the warehouse, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Scaramouche's spine. "You think I'll tell you?" he taunted, his eyes glinting with madness.

Scaramouche's patience wore thin. With a deadly calmness, he delivered a threatening ultimatum, but the man remained defiant, refusing to yield. In a moment of cold determination, Scaramouche made a fateful decision. With a swift and decisive motion, he delivered a fatal blow, silencing his adversary's laughter forever. The man's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked within the shadows.

Scaramouche made his way deeper, not to waste any time. After a few minutes, he came across a door, chains and locks draped all over. Scaramouche knew that Y/N had to be in there. Scaramouche’s heart pounded in his chest as he approached the locked door, suspicions growing stronger with each step. He could sense Y/N’s presence beyond, their fate hanging in the balance. Without hesitation, he raised his foot and delivered a powerful kick, shattering the lock and bursting into the room.

His suspicions were confirmed, as he laid eyes on Y/N, bound and bloodied, their head hung low in defeat. With steady hands, he begun to work on the knots, his movements swift and determined. But before he could finish, a voice cut through the air, freezing him in his tracks.

“Well, well, well,” the woman from earlier sneered, stepping into the room with a malicious grin. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

Scaramouche’s jaw clenched with fury, but he kept his composure, his eyes locked on the woman. “What have you done to them?” he demanded, his voice cold and dangerous.

The woman laughed cruelly, her gaze flickering to Y/N with disdain. “Just a little reminder of who’s in charge,” she taunted, gesturing to Y/N’s battered form. “They thought they could outsmart us. They thought they could defy the Black Lotus. But in the end, they’re nothing but a helpless pawn in our game.”

Scaramouche’s fists clenched at his sides, his anger boiling over. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done,” he growled, his voice dripping with venom.

The woman’s smile widened, unfazed by his threats, “Oh, I’m not the one you should be worried about,” she retorted, her eyes gleaming with malice. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”

With a flick of her wrist, she signalled to her accomplices, who emerged from the shadows, surrounding Scaramouche and Y/N. As the tension in the room reached its breaking point, Scaramouche braced himself for the battle ahead. The Black Lotus thought they had the upper hand, but they had severely underestimated the harbinger’s resolve. With a defiant glare, Scaramouche prepared to face whatever they had in store.

With calculated precision and lightning-fast reflexes, Scaramouche swiftly dispatched each member of the Black Lotus who dared to challenge him. His movements were like a deadly dance, each strike finding its mark with lethal accuracy.

Despite their numbers, the members of the Black Lotus stood no chance against the Harbinger's formidable skill. One by one, they fell before him, their attacks thwarted by his unwavering resolve and mastery of combat.

As the last of his adversaries crumpled to the ground, defeated and broken, Scaramouche stood victorious amidst the chaos. His breath came in ragged gasps, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle.

With a sense of grim satisfaction, Scaramouche turned his attention to Y/N, who lay bound and battered on the ground. Without hesitation, he rushed to their side, his movements gentle yet urgent as he worked to free them from their restraints.

As Scaramouche attended to Y/N, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for the ordeal they had been through. Their injuries, though severe, were a testament to their resilience in the face of danger.

"Y/N," Scaramouche murmured softly, his voice tinged with concern. "Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Y/N's response was barely a whisper, their eyes fluttering open with great effort. Scaramouche could see the pain etched into every line of their face. Without hesitation, he carefully lifted Y/N into his arms, holding them close as he made his way towards the exit.

Chapter 11: Beneath The Surface

Summary:

Scaramouche attended to Y/N’s wounds, making sure to be cautious and gentle. Y/N thanked him and they had a heartfelt conversation, for once.

Scaramouche carefully supported Y/N as they entered his hotel room, guiding them to the bed with gentle hands. With practiced efficiency, he retrieved a first aid kit from his bag, his expression focused as he set to work treating Y/N's wounds. As he cleaned the blood and washed the wounds, Scaramouche's movements were precise and methodical. He worked with a quiet intensity, his attention unwavering as he tended to each injury with care. Once the wounds were cleaned, he applied fresh bandages, ensuring they were secure and comfortable. Once satisfied that Y/N was comfortable and resting, Scaramouche quietly slipped out of the room, leaving them to sleep.

In the small kitchen, he prepared a simple yet nourishing meal for the two of them, the rhythmic clinking of utensils against pots and pans filling the air.

As Scaramouche prepared dinner, a wave of concern washed over him, his thoughts consumed by worry for Y/N's well-being. But as quickly as it came, he pushed the feeling aside, dismissing it as mere obligation stemming from their partnership. "I can't be worried about them," he muttered to himself, a faint sense of unease lingering in the back of his mind. "It's just work, nothing more."

As Y/N stirred awake, their senses slowly coming back to them, they found themselves in an unfamiliar room. Confusion momentarily clouded their mind until the events of the day came rushing back—the ambush, the fight, and Scaramouche’s timely rescue.

Pushing themselves up, Y/N surveyed their surroundings, taking in the dimly lit hotel room. Their gaze landed on Scaramouche, who was just finishing up dinner in the small kitchenette.

“Scaramouche?” Y/N called out softly, their voice still hoarse from the ordeal.

Scaramouche turned, a small smile gracing his lips as he saw Y/N awake. “Ah, you’re finally up,” he said, his tone warm with relief. “How are you feeling?”

Y/N gingerly tested their sore muscles, wincing at the lingering ache. “Sore, but better,” they replied, offering a grateful smile in return.

Scaramouche nodded in understanding, setting the food aside before crossing the room to Y/N’s side. “I cleaned and bandaged your wounds while you were resting,” he explained, his movements gentle as he checked their injuries. “You’ll need to take it easy for a while.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for Scaramouche’s care and attention. “Thank you,” they said softly, their voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Scaramouche merely shrugged, a hint of color dusting his cheeks. “It was the least I could do,” he replied, his gaze softening as he met Y/N’s eyes.

Scaramouche motions for Y/N to sit and eat, and they do. Y/N began recounting every detail, including the people and places they saw.

As Scaramouche sat across from Y/N at the dinner table, he couldn't help but notice the surprise in their eyes as they recounted their ordeal. Yet, to his astonishment, Y/N seemed taken aback by his lack of reproach for falling into the trap.

"It's unlike you not to berate me for falling into their trap," Y/N remarked, a hint of confusion coloring their tone.

Scaramouche's expression softened slightly at their observation. "I couldn't risk you straining your muscles and worsening your injuries," he replied simply, his voice devoid of its usual edge. "Besides, it's not like you did it on purpose."

Y/N blinked in surprise at his unexpected response, their expression softening in return. For a brief moment, a sense of understanding passed between them—a rare moment of camaraderie amidst the chaos of their situation.

As they continued to eat in companionable silence, Scaramouche couldn't shake the feeling of relief that washed over him. Perhaps, deep down, there was more to his concern for Y/N than he cared to admit. But for now, he was content to let the moment linger, grateful for their safety—for work purposes, of course.

Y/N glances up at Scaramouche, “Well, what do we do next?” they inquired, setting their fork down on their plate.

As Y/N voiced their question about their next steps, Scaramouche paused, considering his response carefully. "You need to rest and recover," he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're in no condition to return to work just yet."

But Y/N's expression hardened, their determination shining through despite their injuries. "I can't just sit around and do nothing while there are still people out there who need our help," they countered, their voice tinged with frustration.

Scaramouche sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Listen, I understand that you want to help," he began, his tone softer now, "but pushing yourself too hard will only make things worse. You need to prioritise your health above all else."

Y/N opened their mouth to protest, but Scaramouche cut them off with a stern look. "No arguments," he said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "You're going to rest, whether you like it or not."

For a moment, there was a tense silence between them as Y/N wrestled with their stubbornness and Scaramouche stood his ground. But eventually, Y/N relented with a reluctant nod, begrudgingly accepting Scaramouche's decision.

With a sense of finality, Scaramouche rose from his seat, his expression softened with concern as he looked down at Y/N. "I'll make sure you have everything you need," he assured them, his voice gentle yet firm. "But for now, just focus on getting better." And with that, he turned and began to clear away the remnants of their meal, leaving Y/N to rest and recover under his watchful eye.

──★
As Y/N prepared to retire for the night, Scaramouche quietly entered the room to ensure they were alright. Y/N expressed concern about him having to sleep on the lounge, but Scaramouche waved off their worries with a dismissive gesture, assuring them that he didn't mind.

"It's not a problem," he said simply, his voice soft yet resolute.

However, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of guilt about leaving Scaramouche to work alone. They voiced their concern, suggesting the possibility of working together in the comfort of their temporary accommodation. Scaramouche paused, considering their proposal thoughtfully.

"I'll consider it," he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of warmth. "But for now, your priority is rest. We can discuss the logistics in the morning."

With that, Scaramouche bid Y/N goodnight and quietly left the room, leaving them to their much-needed rest.

As Y/N lay in bed, their thoughts drifted back to Scaramouche and the unexpected kindness he had shown them. A small smile tugged at their lips before they quickly suppressed it, chiding themselves for finding comfort in his company. It felt strange to feel anything positive towards someone they had often clashed with, but they pushed the thought aside, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand.

But deep down, a seed of curiosity lingered. Yet, for now, they pushed those thoughts aside, content to let them simmer in the back of their mind as they drifted off into a restless sleep.

Chapter 12: A Pause For Healing

Summary:

Y/N and Scaramouche begin working at home, though they run into a few issues with this—how will they carry out work while Y/N is injured?

The next morning, as the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Scaramouche roused Y/N from their slumber. With a gentle tap on the shoulder, he announced, "Breakfast is ready."

Y/N blinked away the remnants of sleep, their senses slowly returning as they processed Scaramouche's words. Stretching their limbs, they nodded in acknowledgment before rising from bed to join him for breakfast.

As Y/N joined Scaramouche at the breakfast table, the enticing aroma of their favorite food filled the air, eliciting a smile from Y/N. "This looks amazing," they remarked, their appreciation evident in their voice.

Scaramouche returned the smile, pleased by their reaction. "I'm glad you like it," he replied, his tone softening slightly.

As they enjoyed their meal together, Y/N couldn't help but bring up the topic that had been on their mind since the previous night. "Have you given any more thought to us working together here instead of at the office?" they asked, their gaze meeting Scaramouche's with a hint of anticipation.

Scaramouche paused, considering their question carefully before responding. "I have," he admitted, his expression thoughtful. "And I think it could work. We'll need to establish some ground rules, of course, but I believe we can be more effective if we're working in a familiar environment."

Y/N nodded, a sense of relief washing over them at his response. "That sounds great," they replied, their tone filled with genuine enthusiasm.

As they finished breakfast, Scaramouche made a decision. "I'll go collect your things from the office so we can start working together here," he announced, his tone decisive.

Y/N nodded gratefully, appreciating his initiative. "Thank you," they replied, a sense of relief washing over them at the thought of being able to work in comfortable surroundings.

While at the office, Scaramouche took the opportunity to inform Ningguang of the recent events involving Y/N. As he explained the situation, Ningguang listened attentively, her expression shifting between concern and understanding.

"I hope Y/N gets better soon," she remarked, her voice laced with genuine empathy. "They've been through a lot, but I believe they're resilient enough to overcome this."

Scaramouche nodded in agreement, grateful for Ningguang's support. "Thank you," he said simply, a sense of appreciation evident in his tone.

With Y/N's belongings in hand, Scaramouche returned to their temporary accommodation.

──★
As Scaramouche returned home with Y/N's belongings in hand, he made his way towards their room, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of their upcoming work together. Lost in his thoughts, he absentmindedly pushed open the door without knocking, only to freeze in place as he realized his mistake.

Inside the room, Y/N turned to face him, their expression shifting from surprise to embarrassment as they realized they were only clothed in their undergarments. Scaramouche's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he quickly averted his gaze, stammering out an apology.

"I-I'm so sorry," he managed to say, his voice strained with discomfort. "I didn't mean to intrude. I'll leave immediately."

Without waiting for a response, Scaramouche hastily backed out of the room, his heart pounding in his chest with embarrassment. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, leaning against it for a moment as he took a deep breath to compose himself. Next time, he would have to be more careful.

As Y/N emerged from the room after changing, they couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of embarrassment over the unexpected encounter. "I'm sorry about that," they began, their voice tinged with unease.

But before they could continue, Scaramouche interjected, his expression softening with understanding. "No, it's my fault," he said, his tone gentle yet firm. "I should have knocked before entering. You have nothing to apologize for."

Y/N's shoulders relaxed slightly at his reassurance, a sense of relief washing over them. "Thank you," they replied, grateful for his understanding. "I'll make sure to lock the door next time."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Scaramouche offered a small smile, his gaze meeting Y/N's with a hint of warmth. "It's alright," he assured them. "Let's just put it behind us and focus on our work."

As they settled back into their work routine, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within them. "So, what did you discover while I was gone?" they inquired, their curiosity piqued.

Scaramouche hesitated for a moment before responding, his expression serious. "I did some digging, and it seems that the group responsible for your abduction is called the Black Lotus," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

Y/N's brows furrowed in concern at the mention of the ominous-sounding group. "The Black Lotus... Do you think they have something to do with our investigation?" they asked, their mind racing with possibilities.

Scaramouche nodded solemnly, his gaze meeting Y/N's with a sense of determination. "It's possible," he replied, his tone resolute. "Their involvement in your abduction suggests that they may be connected to the recent disappearances we've been investigating."

With a nod of agreement, Y/N turned their attention to the list of suspects they had compiled, their mind already racing with possibilities. "So, where do we go from here?" they asked, their voice filled with determination.

Scaramouche considered their options for a moment before responding. "I think our best course of action is to cross-reference our list of suspects with any known associates or members of the Black Lotus," he suggested, his tone confident.

Y/N's eyes lit up with understanding as they grasped the significance of Scaramouche's suggestion. "That's a great idea," they exclaimed, impressed by his strategic thinking.

Together, they began to comb through the list of suspects, meticulously cross-referencing each name with any known connections to the Black Lotus.

As they narrowed down their list of suspects to just four individuals, Y/N and Scaramouche knew that they were closing in on the truth. With Tartaglia already crossed off their list, they turned their attention to the remaining names, one of which struck a chord of discomfort within Y/N — their uncle.

Scaramouche's gaze hardened as he considered the implications. "We should start by investigating your uncle," he suggested, his voice tinged with resolve.

Y/N hesitated, a wave of conflicting emotions washing over them at the thought of implicating their own family member. "I know it's hard to consider, but we can't afford to overlook anyone," Scaramouche continued, his tone gentle yet firm.

With a heavy heart, Y/N nodded in agreement, steeling themselves for the difficult task ahead. "You're right," they conceded, their voice barely above a whisper.

As Y/N brought up the address they found in their uncle's home, a flicker of recognition crossed Scaramouche's features. "You're right," he conceded, studying the piece of paper with a furrowed brow. "This could be our best lead yet."

Y/N nodded in agreement, their determination renewed. "We should go check it out," they suggested, their voice tinged with urgency.

But before they could make any further plans, Scaramouche interrupted, his tone resolute. "No, I'll go alone," he insisted, his gaze meeting Y/N's with a sense of determination.

Y/N's eyes widened in alarm at the thought of Scaramouche facing potential danger alone. "No, I can't let you go by yourself," they protested, their voice tinged with fear. "What if something happens to you?"

But Scaramouche remained steadfast in his decision, his expression unwavering. "You're injured, Y/N," he countered, his voice firm. "I can't risk putting you in harm's way. I'll be fine on my own."

Y/N reminded Scaramouche of their last interrogation with their uncle, “If I came this time, he might trust me enough to give us some answers!” they exclaim, trying to convince Scaramouche.

Scaramouche shook his head, “I can’t have you risking yourself anymore. We need you to get better so we can resume our usual activities.”

Y/N sighed in defeat, “I guess you’re right. Maybe we should just leave the interrogations til I get better.”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “I’m not incompetent. I can do this on my own, who was the one who saved you again?”

Y/N and Scaramouche bickered back and forth, not able to come to any conclusions. Both sides had valid points; Scaramouche could fight off anyone on his own, but Y/N should be there for it so they don’t miss any details.

As Y/N's insistence wore down his resolve, Scaramouche finally relented, albeit with a begrudging sigh. "Fine," he conceded, his tone resigned. "We'll wait until you're better before we interrogate anyone else."

Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at Scaramouche's agreement, grateful that he was willing to prioritize their well-being over their investigation. "Thank you," they replied, their voice filled with gratitude.

"But," Scaramouche continued, his gaze turning steely once more, "that doesn't mean we'll be idle. We'll use this time to research and gather any insight we can about the Black Lotus and our other suspects."

Y/N nodded in agreement, their determination renewed. "Agreed," they affirmed, their voice tinged with determination. "We'll be more prepared than ever when the time comes to confront them."

Chapter 13: A surprise encounter

Summary:

Y/N had finally recovered, and they set out on trying to find Y/N’s uncle again finally. After asking some locals about said address, they all seemed quite reserved and nervous about it, not giving them much to work with.

As the weeks passed, Y/N's injuries began to heal, and they insisted to Scaramouche that they were feeling much better. "Are you sure?" Scaramouche asked, his brows furrowed with concern.

"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replied with a reassuring smile. "I'm feeling much stronger now."

Scaramouche studied them for a moment, assessing their condition. "Alright," he relented, though a hint of skepticism lingered in his tone. "But take it easy. We don't want to risk any setbacks."

Y/N nodded in agreement, grateful for Scaramouche's concern. "Don't worry," they assured him. "I'll be careful."

As Y/N and Scaramouche returned to the office, they were greeted by a wave of concern and well-wishes from their colleagues. Many of them stopped to inquire about Y/N's health, offering words of encouragement and support.

To Y/N's surprise and delight, several of their colleagues even presented them with flowers and small gifts, tokens of their appreciation and goodwill. Each gesture warmed Y/N's heart, reminding them of the camaraderie and solidarity that bound their team together. Grateful for the outpouring of kindness, Y/N thanked their colleagues with genuine sincerity, their spirits lifted by the thoughtfulness of their coworkers.

With the office atmosphere lifting their spirits, Scaramouche suggested that now was the perfect time to investigate the address they had found in Y/N's uncle's home. "Let's finally go find that address," he proposed, his tone filled with determination.

Y/N nodded eagerly, their curiosity piqued by the prospect of uncovering new clues. "I agree," they replied, their voice tinged with excitement. "It's time to see what we can discover."

Together, they gathered their belongings and made their way out of the office. The address read: 76 Baishu Rd, Qingce Village.

──★
As Y/N and Scaramouche ventured deeper into Qingce Village, they approached the locals with a blend of curiosity and caution. They started by asking simple questions about the neighborhood, hoping to ease into their inquiries about 76 Baishu Road.

Their first stop was a small tea shop nestled along the village's main street. Y/N and Scaramouche entered, the scent of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air as they approached the owner behind the counter.

"Excuse me," Y/N began, their tone polite yet inquisitive. "We're new to the area and we're trying to locate a specific address. Have you heard of 76 Baishu Road?"

The owner's demeanor shifted slightly, a flicker of unease crossing their features. "Baishu Road?" they echoed, their voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm afraid I don't know much about that area."

Undeterred, Y/N pressed on, determined to uncover any information they could. "Are you sure?" they asked, their tone gentle yet insistent. "Perhaps you've heard something from other villagers?"

The owner hesitated, casting a wary glance around the shop before leaning in closer to Y/N and Scaramouche. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can help you," they whispered, their voice barely above a murmur.

Disappointed but undeterred, Y/N and Scaramouche thanked the owner for their time and continued their quest. They moved on to other shops and homes, repeating their inquiries with each encounter, but the responses remained frustratingly vague.

As Y/N and Scaramouche approached one last villager, they couldn't help but notice the apprehensive glances exchanged between the locals. With a sense of determination, they initiated the conversation, hoping this encounter would yield more insight than the previous ones.

"Excuse me," Scaramouche began, his tone direct yet polite. "We've been asking around about 76 Baishu Road, but no one seems willing to give us much information. Do you know anything about it?"

The villager hesitated, casting a cautious glance around before speaking in hushed tones. "I'm not surprised," they replied cryptically. "The people who live there... they're not exactly the most forthcoming with outsiders."

Y/N's curiosity was piqued. "Why's that?" they asked, their voice tinged with intrigue.

The villager leaned in closer, as if afraid of being overheard. "Let's just say they have a... complicated relationship with the law," they explained, their expression grave. "They prefer to keep to themselves and avoid drawing any unnecessary attention."

Scaramouche frowned, his mind racing with possibilities. "What kind of activities are we talking about?" he pressed, his tone firm.

The villager shrugged, a hint of unease in their demeanor. "I can't say for sure," they admitted. "But I'd advise you to tread carefully. People like that don't take kindly to prying eyes."

With that ominous warning ringing in their ears, Y/N and Scaramouche thanked the villager for their time and made their way back onto the village streets. As they pondered the villager's words, they couldn't shake the feeling that they were edging closer to the truth behind 76 Baishu Road. But with that truth came a newfound sense of danger, and they knew they would need to proceed with caution if they were to uncover the secrets hidden within the quiet village of Qingce.

As Y/N and Scaramouche continued their discussion about the mysterious activities surrounding 76 Baishu Road, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging thought that their uncle might somehow be involved. "Do you think my uncle could be mixed up in all of this?" they asked, their voice tinged with concern.

Scaramouche considered the question for a moment before responding. "It's hard to say," he replied carefully. "We won't know for sure until we find out more."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a path they had never noticed before. Intrigued, they exchanged a glance before silently agreeing to explore further. As they ventured down the unfamiliar path, a sense of anticipation filled the air, mingled with a hint of trepidation.

To their surprise, the path led them to a secluded corner of the village, hidden from prying eyes. And there, standing before them, was the address they had been searching for all along—76 Baishu Road.

Y/N and Scaramouche exchanged a look of disbelief. Could this be the key to unlocking the secrets they had been seeking? They approached the address, ready to confront whatever truths awaited them behind its doors.

As Y/N and Scaramouche stood before the door of 76 Baishu Road, they exchanged a wary glance. The sound of faint rummaging from within the house sent a shiver down their spines, raising the hairs on the back of their necks.

Y/N raised a hand and knocked on the door, the sound echoing through the quiet village street. They waited in tense anticipation, but no one came to answer. Their brows furrowed in confusion, and they exchanged a concerned look with Scaramouche.

Undeterred, they knocked again, this time with more force, hoping to elicit a response. But once again, there was only silence, save for the faint sound of movement from within the house.

Scaramouche's expression hardened as he exchanged a glance with Y/N. "Something isn't right," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "We need to find out what's going on inside."

With a shared sense of determination, Y/N and Scaramouche began to search for another way into the house. As they circled around the perimeter, their senses on high alert, they couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to uncover something far more sinister than they had ever imagined lurking behind the doors of the house.

With a mixture of emotions, Y/N and Scaramouche exchanged a determined look before pushing open the door of 76 Baishu Road and stepping inside. The air inside the house was stale, tinged with a faint scent of mustiness that hung heavy in the stillness.

"Hello?" Y/N called out tentatively, their voice echoing through the empty rooms. "Is anyone home?"

Their words seemed to dissipate into the silence, unanswered. Scaramouche followed closely behind, his senses heightened as he scanned their surroundings for any sign of movement. But aside from the faint sound of their own breathing, there was no response.

Undeterred, they began to explore the house, their footsteps echoing against the worn floorboards as they moved from room to room. Each empty chamber seemed to hold its own secrets, the dust-covered furniture and faded wallpaper bearing silent witness to years gone by.

As they ventured deeper into the house, a sense of unease settled over them, their senses on high alert for any sign of danger. But despite their efforts, there was still no sign of anyone inhabiting the mysterious address they had spent so long searching for.

“Maybe we should search again. We could split up, it’ll be faster” Y/N suggests, trying not to sound defeated.

Scaramouche agrees, and they set off on a second search. This time, Y/N decided to rummage through closets, cupboards and other places where people could hide. As Y/N ventured deeper into the empty rooms of the home, their senses on high alert, they suddenly heard a faint sound behind them. Turning around, they were met with the unexpected sight of their uncle rushing towards them, his expression one of desperation and relief.

"Uncle Zihan?" Y/N exclaimed, their heart skipping a beat as he enveloped them in a tight hug. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

Their uncle's appearance was shocking; he looked to be in a terrible state, his clothes disheveled and his eyes haunted with fear. But before Y/N could voice their concerns, he silenced them with a pleading look.

"Shh, Y/N, don't," he whispered urgently, his voice trembling with emotion. "You can't let anyone else know I'm here. It's not safe."

Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion and concern, but before they could respond, their uncle's words were cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps. With a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomach, Y/N turned to see Scaramouche emerging from the shadows, his expression one of grim determination.

"Y/N, what's going on?" Scaramouche demanded, his gaze flickering between Y/N and their uncle.

Before Y/N could answer, their uncle stepped forward, his voice trembling with urgency. "Please, Y/N, don't say anything," he pleaded, his eyes wide with fear. "It's not safe for any of us."

But it was already too late. The moment had passed, and the truth could no longer be concealed. As Y/N looked from their uncle to Scaramouche, they knew that their world was about to be turned upside down, and that the secrets hidden within the walls of 76 Baishu Road were finally about to be revealed.

Scaramouche's voice cut through the tense atmosphere like a blade. "Enough games," he declared, his tone icy and uncompromising. "Tell us everything you know, now."

Their uncle flinched at the sharpness of Scaramouche's command, his eyes darting nervously between the two of them. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He seemed torn, caught between the fear of revealing too much and the urgency of the situation at hand.

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on their uncle's shoulder, their expression softening with empathy. "Uncle Zihan, please," they pleaded gently. "We need to know what's going on. You can trust us."

As Scaramouche's demand hung heavy in the air, their uncle's expression remained tight-lipped, his eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. Despite the pressure, he remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line as he avoided their gaze.

Scaramouche's patience wore thin, his frustration mounting with each passing moment of silence. "I won't ask again," he warned, his voice sharp and commanding. "Tell us everything you know, or face the consequences."

But their uncle remained stubbornly silent, his resolve unyielding in the face of Scaramouche's intimidation tactics. Y/N exchanged a worried glance with Scaramouche, unsure of how to proceed in the face of their uncle's refusal to cooperate.

"We're not leaving until you tell us what you know," Y/N insisted, their voice tinged with urgency. "Please, Uncle Zihan, we need your help to unravel this mystery."

Their uncle's expression softened slightly at Y/N's plea, but still, he remained silent, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and regret. As the weight of their uncle's silence settled over them, Y/N and Scaramouche knew that they were running out of time to uncover the truth before it was too late.

With a heavy heart, Y/N reached out to their uncle, their voice soft and pleading. "Uncle Zihan, please," they implored, their eyes searching his for any sign of reassurance. "Come home with us. We'll figure this out together."

Their uncle's gaze wavered, torn between the safety of familiarity and the unknown dangers that lurked outside. He hesitated for a moment, his expression a mixture of fear and uncertainty, before finally shaking his head. "I can't," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "It's not safe... for any of us."

Y/N’s brow furrowed in confusion, their concern deepening with each passing moment of their uncle’s refusal. “But why?” they pressed gently, their voice filled with genuine concern. “What are you so afraid of?”

Their uncle’s lips trembled, but no words escaped them. He seemed torn, trapped between the desire for safety and the burden of his secrets. As the silence stretched on, Y/N’s heart ached with the weight of their uncle’s fear, knowing that whatever he was hiding, it was something that could put them all in danger.

Scaramouche's frustration reached its breaking point, his patience worn thin as he seized their uncle by the collar, his grip firm and unyielding. "Enough of this," he growled, his voice laced with anger. "Tell us what you know, or so help me..."

Their uncle's eyes widened in fear as Scaramouche's grip tightened, the tension in the room palpable as he struggled against the harbinger's iron grip. But despite the pressure, their uncle remained stubbornly silent, his lips pressed into a thin line as he avoided Scaramouche's gaze.

Y/N's anger flared as Scaramouche's frustration boiled over, his grip on their uncle tightening with each passing moment. "Stop it!" they shouted, their voice sharp with indignation. "You can't force him to talk!"

Scaramouche's gaze flicked to Y/N, his expression a mix of surprise and defiance. "He's hiding something," he insisted, his voice low and dangerous. "We need to know what it is."

But Y/N stood their ground, their eyes blazing with determination. "This isn't the way," they argued, their voice trembling with emotion. "Violence won't solve anything."

Scaramouche's grip on their uncle's shirt tightened for a moment longer, his anger simmering just beneath the surface as he stared into their uncle's eyes. "Fine," he spat, his voice dripping with frustration. "If you won't talk, then you leave me no choice."

With a sharp tug, Scaramouche released their uncle, his expression dark and menacing as he took a step back. "You're coming with us," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And you'll be under arrest until further notice."

Their uncle's eyes widened in shock at the harshness of Scaramouche's words, his fear palpable as he glanced between them and Y/N. But before he could protest, Scaramouche turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving their uncle to grapple with the weight of his decision in the suffocating silence that followed.

With a heavy heart, Y/N watched as Scaramouche stormed out of the room, his anger leaving a bitter taste in the air. Despite their own reservations, they knew they couldn't simply let their uncle walk away, not when there were so many unanswered questions hanging over their heads.

"I'm sorry," they murmured softly, their voice barely audible in the tense silence that surrounded them. "But we have to do this."

Their uncle's gaze flickered with uncertainty as he looked to Y/N for reassurance, his fear mirrored in the depths of his eyes. But with a resigned sigh, he nodded, his resignation a silent acceptance of the inevitable.

And as Y/N led their uncle out of the room, their heart weighed down by the burden of their choices, they prayed that they were doing the right thing, and that their uncle would forgive them for what they were about to do.

Chapter 14: Breaking Point

Summary:

Y/N had been full of emotions, they were beginning to lose the only family they had left, and they couldn’t bear it any longer. It was no thanks to Scaramouche that they were feeling worse and worse about it.

Reluctantly, Y/N escorted their uncle back to the harbour, each step heavier than the last as they grappled with the weight of their decision. With a heavy heart, they led him to a small prison cell, the cold steel bars a stark reminder of the gravity of their situation.

"I'm sorry," Y/N whispered softly, their voice thick with emotion as they locked the cell door behind him. "But we need to keep you here for now. It's for your own safety."

Their uncle's eyes brimmed with unshed tears as he nodded in understanding, his silence a testament to the depth of his resignation. And as Y/N turned to leave, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor, they couldn't shake the feeling that they had just made a choice that would change everything.

As Y/N left the prison cell, their heart heavy with sorrow, Scaramouche's voice cut through the silence like a knife. "Don't beat yourself up about it," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the gravity of the situation. "You did what needed to be done."

But the words fell on deaf ears as Y/N's emotions threatened to overwhelm them. With a sharp inhale, they spun around to face Scaramouche, their eyes ablaze with anger and frustration. "Don't you dare tell me how to feel!" they snapped, their voice laced with bitterness. "You have no idea what it's like to lose everything you care about!"

Scaramouche recoiled at the force of Y/N's outburst, taken aback by the raw intensity of their emotions. For a moment, silence hung heavy between them, the weight of Y/N's words lingering in the air like a bitter reminder of their pain.

But as the reality of their situation sank in, Y/N's anger began to ebb, replaced by a profound sense of sadness and resignation. With a heavy sigh, they turned away from Scaramouche, their shoulders slumped with the weight of their grief. "I'm sorry," they whispered, their voice barely audible above the sound of their own heartbeat. "I just... I don't know what to do anymore."

With a heavy heart and a mind clouded by turmoil, Y/N turned away from Scaramouche, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as they walked away without another word. The air hung heavy with unspoken tension, the weight of their emotions pressing down on them like a suffocating blanket.

Scaramouche watched them go, his expression unreadable as he grappled with the aftermath of their confrontation. For a moment, he considered calling out to them, reaching out to offer some semblance of comfort in their time of need. But as he opened his mouth to speak, the words caught in his throat, silenced by the chasm that had grown between them.

As Y/N disappeared from sight, leaving Scaramouche alone with his thoughts, a gnawing sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different about his interaction with Y/N, something that defied rational explanation.

For the first time in a long while, Scaramouche found himself questioning the nature of his own feelings. Why did he care about Y/N's well-being? Why did their pain resonate with him in a way that he couldn't quite comprehend? The more he pondered these questions, the more elusive the answers seemed to become. Scaramouche prided himself on his detachment, on his ability to remain unaffected by the emotions of others.

With a frustrated sigh, Scaramouche pushed aside his doubts and insecurities, burying them beneath a facade of icy indifference. But deep down, he knew that the memory of Y/N's anguish would linger, a silent reminder of the cracks in his armor that he was desperate to conceal.

──★
Alone in the solitude of their room, Y/N felt the weight of their emotions pressing down on them like a suffocating blanket. Tears welled up in their eyes as they grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss that threatened to consume them whole. The thought of losing their only family left them feeling adrift, as if they were a ship lost at sea with no hope of finding its way home.

But amidst the sea of their despair, a sudden wave of guilt crashed over them, washing away the raw intensity of their emotions. They remembered their outburst at Scaramouche, the hurtful words that had spilled from their lips in a moment of unchecked anger. How could they have been so callous, so careless with someone who had only sought to help them?

With a heavy heart, Y/N buried their face in their hands, their shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

──★
As Y/N made their way to work the next morning, their thoughts weighed heavy on their mind, burdened by the events of the previous day. Lost in the labyrinth of their own thoughts, they rounded a corner and nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction.

"Whoa there, watch where you're going," a familiar voice exclaimed, breaking through the haze of Y/N's thoughts. Blinking in surprise, they looked up to see Tartaglia standing before them, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"Sorry about that," Y/N replied, offering a sheepish smile as they took a step back to regain their balance. Despite their troubled state of mind, they couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement at the unexpected encounter.

Tartaglia chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he studied Y/N's expression. "Lost in thought, huh? Must have been some night."

Y/N's smile faltered slightly at the reminder of the tumultuous events that had unfolded, but they quickly composed themselves, not wanting to dwell on the past. "Something like that," they replied vaguely, a note of caution creeping into their voice.

As Y/N recounted the events of the past few weeks to Tartaglia, they couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over them. There was something strangely cathartic about confiding in someone who had no stake in the tangled web of their life, someone who could offer a fresh perspective on their troubles.

Tartaglia listened intently as Y/N poured out their heart, his expression shifting from amusement to concern as he heard of their ordeal. He was quick to offer words of comfort and encouragement, his easygoing demeanor serving as a balm to Y/N's frayed nerves.

"That sounds like a rough time," Tartaglia remarked sympathetically, his eyes filled with genuine compassion. "But hey, you made it through, didn't you? That's gotta count for something."

Y/N nodded, grateful for his understanding. "Yeah, I guess so," they replied with a faint smile, feeling a weight lift from their shoulders with each word they spoke. Somehow, just sharing their struggles with Tartaglia made them feel less alone in the world.

"Well, if you ever need a break from all the drama, you know where to find me," Tartaglia said with a playful grin, nudging Y/N's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "I know a great spot by the waterfront where we can grab a drink and forget about our troubles for a while."

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Tartaglia's easygoing nature, feeling a glimmer of hope begin to flicker in the depths of their heart.

“Where are you headed? To work I presume?” He asks, a tinge of curiosity in his voice.

Y/N nods, “You stand corrected.”

“Care for a walking buddy?” He asks softly.

With a grateful smile, Y/N accepted Tartaglia's offer to walk them to work. As they strolled side by side through the bustling streets of Liyue, the weight of their troubles seemed to lift ever so slightly, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and companionship.

Tartaglia regaled Y/N with tales of his own adventures, his lively anecdotes and infectious laughter serving as a welcome distraction from the troubles that still loomed on the horizon. Despite the chaos of the world around them, for those fleeting moments, it felt as though time stood still, and all that mattered was the simple joy of friendship.

As they reached the entrance to Y/N's workplace, they turned to Tartaglia with a grateful smile. "Thanks for walking me here," Y/N said sincerely, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over them.

"It was my pleasure," Tartaglia replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Anytime you need a walking buddy, just give me a call."

With a final wave, Y/N watched as Tartaglia disappeared into the crowd, his easygoing demeanor leaving a lasting impression on their heart.

As Y/N stepped into the office alongside Tartaglia, they were met with Scaramouche's sharp gaze, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he observed their arrival. Sensing his scrutiny, Y/N squared their shoulders, preparing themselves for the inevitable interrogation that was sure to follow.

Before they could even utter a word, Scaramouche was already at their side, his tone clipped and authoritative. "What were you doing with him?" he demanded, his voice tinged with a hint of accusation.

Y/N met his gaze head-on, refusing to cower under his scrutiny. "We just ran into each other on the way to work," they replied evenly, their tone devoid of any trace of guilt.

Scaramouche's expression remained skeptical, his sharp eyes boring into Y/N as if searching for any sign of deception. "Is that so?" he muttered, his voice low and guarded.

Y/N felt a surge of frustration rise within them at Scaramouche's relentless questioning, but they knew better than to show any signs of weakness. "Yes, that's so," they retorted, their voice firm and unwavering.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air between them, tension crackling like electricity. Then, without another word, Scaramouche turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Y/N standing alone.

Y/N took a deep breath and followed Scaramouche into the office. The atmosphere was tense, and Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of being under scrutiny.

"Why do you care so much about why I was with Tartaglia?" Y/N asked, trying to keep their tone neutral.

Scaramouche stopped in his tracks and turned to face Y/N, his expression guarded. "I don't," he replied curtly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, not convinced by his answer. "Sure," they said, brushing off his response with a wave of their hand. "Let's just focus on the task at hand."

Scaramouche's eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and something else Y/N couldn't quite place. He seemed ready to say more but held back, opting instead to walk away without another word.

Y/N watched him go, feeling a mixture of confusion and annoyance. They couldn't understand why Scaramouche was acting so strangely, but they decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. There were more pressing matters to deal with, and they needed to stay focused.

With a determined sigh, Y/N headed to their desk, pushing thoughts of Scaramouche and his mysterious behavior to the back of their mind.

Scaramouche glanced at Y/N from across the office, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to weigh his words. Finally, he walked over, his expression stern.

"We need to question your uncle again," he stated flatly.

Y/N's head snapped up, anger flaring in their eyes. "We've tortured him enough already! He needs time to rest," they yelled, their voice echoing through the office.

Scaramouche didn't flinch. "Time is a luxury we don't have. He's our best lead."

Y/N's fists clenched, their face flushed with frustration. "He's my uncle, Scaramouche. Do you even care about what this is doing to me?"

Scaramouche's gaze softened for a brief moment, then hardened again. "This isn't about you, Y/N. It's about solving this case."

Y/N glared at him, their anger boiling over. "Fine, but if you push him too hard and he breaks, it's on you."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N stormed out of the office, leaving Scaramouche standing there, his expression unreadable.

Chapter 15: Strained Bonds

Summary:

Scaramouche still can’t grasp the concept of emotions and familial relationships, causing Y/N to get angry and upset at him once again. They decide to question Y/N’s uncle for the third time, yet this time they yielded some answers, to their own surprise.

As Y/N turned away, heading towards the door, Scaramouche hesitated, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. He watched Y/N's retreating figure, his instincts warring against his usual aloofness. Finally, he made up his mind and hurried after them.

"Y/N, wait," Scaramouche called out, his voice a mix of annoyance and concern.

Y/N paused but didn't turn around. "What is it, Scaramouche? I need some space."

"Space? Now? We're in the middle of something important!" Scaramouche snapped, frustration evident in his tone.

Y/N sighed, finally turning to face him. "Why do you care so much? You've never shown any concern before."

Scaramouche's expression hardened. "Because we have a job to do, and I can't afford to have you falling apart on me. You need to pull it together."

"Is that all this is to you? A job?" Y/N asked, hurt flashing in their eyes.

Scaramouche's jaw tightened. "Don't make this about feelings. We have a mission, and I need you focused. Your uncle could be a key part of this, and we can't let emotions cloud our judgment."

Y/N looked at him, frustration and pain mixing in their gaze. "You know what, Scaramouche? Maybe you're right. Maybe I do need to focus. But you need to understand that this isn't just another mission for me. It's my family."

Scaramouche sighed, the irritation in his voice replaced by a trace of reluctance. "Fine. Take a moment if you need it, but we have to get back to work. We don't have the luxury of time."

Y/N nodded slowly, the tension between them still palpable. "Alright. Let's get this done."

Scaramouche gave a curt nod. "Good. Let's head back and figure this out."

──★
Scaramouche and Y/N walked side by side to the prison cell, the tension between them thick and palpable. Neither spoke, each absorbed in their own turbulent thoughts. Their footsteps echoed in the narrow hallway, a stark contrast to the silence that hung between them.

As they approached the cell, Y/N couldn't help but glance at Scaramouche, anger simmering just below the surface. "You didn't have to be so harsh, you know," they muttered, their voice barely concealing their frustration.

Scaramouche shot them a sidelong glance, his expression as cold as ever. "And you didn't have to make this personal. We're here to get answers, not to play family therapist."

Y/N's fists clenched at their sides. "It's not just about the mission for me, Scaramouche. This is my family."

"Family or not, we need the truth," Scaramouche retorted, his voice edged with impatience. "And your uncle isn't giving us anything."

Y/N stopped in their tracks, turning to face him fully. "You think I don't know that? But torturing him isn't the answer. We need to be smarter than that."

Scaramouche narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to Y/N. "Then what do you suggest? Because right now, all I see is a scared old man who's more afraid of something else than he is of us."

Y/N opened their mouth to respond but closed it again, struggling to find the right words. "We need to try a different approach," they finally said, their voice softer but no less determined. "If he trusts us, maybe he'll open up."

Scaramouche scoffed but didn't argue. "Fine. Let's see if your way works. But don't expect me to go easy on him."

Y/N nodded, accepting the uneasy truce between them. "Let's just get this over with."

They reached the cell, where Y/N's uncle sat huddled in the corner, his eyes wide with fear. Scaramouche crossed his arms, his expression unreadable as he watched Y/N approach the bars.

"Uncle Zihan," Y/N began, their voice gentle despite the anger still boiling inside them. "We need your help. Please, tell us what you know."

Zihan looked up, his eyes darting nervously between Y/N and Scaramouche. "I... I can't," he stammered, his voice trembling.

Scaramouche took a step forward, his presence intimidating. "You'd better start talking, old man. We're running out of patience."

Y/N shot Scaramouche a warning look but turned back to their uncle, trying to keep their voice calm. "Uncle, please. We want to help you, but we can't do that if you don't tell us what's going on."

Zihan swallowed hard, his fear palpable. "They'll kill me if I say anything," he whispered, his eyes filled with desperation.

Scaramouche leaned closer, his expression hard. "Who? Who will kill you?"

Zihan shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. "I can't. Please, you don't understand."

Y/N felt their frustration and worry mix into a painful knot in their chest. "Uncle, we can protect you. But we need to know what we're up against."

For a moment, it seemed like Zihan might break, but then he shook his head again, retreating further into himself. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Scaramouche's patience snapped. "Enough of this. We're taking you back to headquarters. Maybe some time in a proper cell will change your mind."

Y/N shot Scaramouche an angry look before turning back to his uncle. They stepped closer to the cell, their voice firm but compassionate. "Uncle Zihan, listen to me. If you cooperate, I promise you, we will arrange for your protection by the city's police force. You won't be killed. We just need you to help us."

Zihan's eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope, though fear still dominated his features. "You... you can really protect me?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Scaramouche, standing a few paces back, watched the exchange with a skeptical look but said nothing. Y/N nodded, their expression earnest. "Yes, we can. But you have to trust us and tell us what you know."

Zihan looked between Y/N and Scaramouche, his resolve slowly crumbling. He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. "Alright... I'll tell you. But you have to promise you'll keep me safe."

Y/N's heart lifted with relief. "We promise, Uncle. Now, please, tell us everything."

Zihan hesitated for a moment longer before finally beginning to speak, his voice shaking. "It's the Black Lotus... they're the ones behind everything. They're dangerous, and they've been threatening me. That's why I couldn't say anything before."

Scaramouche's eyes narrowed. "What do they want? What are their plans?"

Zihan glanced nervously at Scaramouche but continued. "They want control. Over the city, over the people. They use fear and violence to get what they want. And they've been targeting anyone who gets in their way."

Y/N felt a chill run down their spine. "Do you know where their main base is? Who's leading them?"

Zihan nodded slowly. "I can tell you where their base is. But their leader... he's ruthless. You have to be careful."

Scaramouche stepped forward, his expression serious. "We'll handle it. Just give us the information."

Zihan provided the details, his voice filled with a mix of fear and relief. As Y/N and Scaramouche took in the information, Y/N placed a reassuring hand on their uncle's shoulder. "Thank you, Uncle. We'll make sure you're safe."

Scaramouche, though still stern, gave a curt nod. "We'll get you protection. But remember, if you try to run or hide anything else from us, there won't be a second chance."

Zihan nodded fervently. "I understand. I'll cooperate."

As they escorted Zihan back to a more secure holding area, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. They finally had a lead, and with their uncle's cooperation, they might just be able to take down the Black Lotus once and for all.

Y/N's frustration simmered just beneath the surface as they continued. "You always insist on your own way, as if your approach is the only one that matters. But sometimes, Scaramouche, you need to acknowledge that others have valuable insights too."

Scaramouche's gaze hardened, but he remained silent, seemingly mulling over Y/N's words. Their relationship had always been fraught with tension, each unwilling to yield to the other's perspective. But as Y/N stood there, their eyes flashing with conviction, Scaramouche couldn't help but feel a twinge of begrudging respect.

"Fine," he finally conceded, his tone clipped. "Your method yielded results this time. But don't think it means I'll suddenly start trusting you."

Y/N sighed, their frustration dissipating slightly in the face of Scaramouche's begrudging acknowledgment. "I'm not asking for blind trust," they replied, their voice softer now. "Just a bit of faith in my abilities."

With that, they turned away, leaving Scaramouche to contemplate their words in the echoing silence of the room. Perhaps, he thought, begrudgingly, there was more to Y/N than he had previously given them credit for.

──★
Y/N hurried into the police station, a sense of urgency driving their steps. Approaching the front desk, they explained the situation to the officer on duty, requesting immediate assistance to protect their uncle from potential danger.

After a brief exchange, the officer directed Y/N to Captain Beidou's office. Knocking on the door, they entered and wasted no time in conveying the urgency of the situation to the captain.

"Captain Beidou, my uncle is in danger," they explained, their voice filled with concern. "He knows something about the Black Lotus, and they won't hesitate to silence him."

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Captain Beidou assured Y/N that they would take swift action to ensure their uncle's safety. After providing the necessary details, Y/N left the station with a sense of relief, trusting that their uncle was now under the protection of the authorities.

Chapter 16: Shattered Glass

Summary:

After finding new evidence, they immediately discuss their next course of action. What started off as strategy, turns into a huge and emotional fight between them.

The next day dawned with a sense of urgency, the weight of their investigation pressing heavily upon Scaramouche and Y/N's shoulders. As they returned to their office, the air crackled with anticipation, each step echoing with the gravity of their mission.

Seated across from each other at the desk, they poured over the evidence they had gathered, meticulously analysing every detail for any clue that might lead them closer to the truth. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, a constant reminder of the fleeting nature of time.

"We need to follow up on the leads from yesterday," Y/N declared, their voice resolute despite the fatigue that lingered in their eyes.

Scaramouche nodded in agreement, his expression grim. "Agreed. But we must proceed with caution. We can't afford to make any mistakes."

Their conversation was punctuated by the occasional sound of pens scratching against paper, the rhythm of their thoughts intermingling in the confined space of their office.

After hours of sifting through paperwork at the precinct, Y/N stumbled upon a crucial piece of evidence buried within a police report. Excitement surged through Y/N as they stumbled upon the police report nestled amidst a stack of documents. With trembling hands, they flipped through its pages, scanning each line in search of any mention of the elusive Black Lotus.

Their heart quickened as they came across a section detailing possible hideouts frequented by the notorious gang. Each address seemed to hold the promise of answers, a potential breakthrough in their investigation. They quickly made note of the locations, their mind already racing with plans for their next move.

Turning to Scaramouche, who had been engrossed in his own research, Y/N couldn't contain their excitement. "Scaramouche, look what I found," they exclaimed, thrusting the report towards him. Scaramouche's sharp eyes scanned the document as Y/N explained the significance of their discovery.

"It mentions possible hideouts frequented by the Black Lotus," Y/N explained, their voice tinged with excitement and determination. "If we can track down these locations, we might finally get closer to unraveling this mystery."

Scaramouche glanced up, his interest piqued. As he perused the document, a rare flicker of anticipation crossed his features. "These addresses could be our ticket to unraveling the mystery," he mused, his voice tinged with newfound determination. "Let's waste no time then," he said, his tone businesslike as he gathered up the documents. "We have work to do."

With a list of addresses in hand, Y/N and Scaramouche huddled together, their minds buzzing with the possibilities laid out before them. They meticulously devised a plan, each detail carefully considered to maximize their chances of success.

"We'll split up and cover each address simultaneously," Scaramouche suggested, his tone firm as he outlined the logistics. "I'll take the first three on the list, while you handle the remaining two. We'll communicate via comms to coordinate our movements and share any findings in real-time."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity coloring their voice. "Why do I only get two addresses while you take three?" they questioned, their gaze fixed on Scaramouche.

Scaramouche leaned back in his chair, his expression unwavering as he considered Y/N's query. "It's simple," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "I'll handle the addresses with the highest likelihood of resistance or danger. You'll focus on the ones that are more likely to yield information without confrontation."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a hint of challenge in their tone. "Do you think I can't handle myself in a fight?" they questioned, their gaze fixed on Scaramouche.

Scaramouche leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady as he met Y/N's eyes. "Let's not kid ourselves," he remarked, his tone cool and composed. "I have my strengths, and physical prowess happens to be one of them."

Y/N bristled slightly at his confident assertion but maintained their composure. "Strength isn't everything," they retorted, their voice firm. "There are many ways to contribute to this investigation."

A subtle smirk tugged at the corner of Scaramouche's lips. "Of course," he replied smoothly. "But when it comes to confronting potential threats, it's best to have someone who can handle themselves."

Y/N squared their shoulders, a determined glint in their eyes. "I can handle myself just fine in a fight," they asserted, their voice unwavering. "I may not have your brute strength, but I have agility, speed, and cunning. I can hold my own against anyone."

Scaramouche arched an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his expression. "Is that so?" he mused, his tone laced with subtle doubt. "Well, I suppose we'll see how well you fare when we're out in the field facing real danger."

"Why do you doubt me so much?" Y/N's voice cut through the air, tinged with frustration and a hint of hurt.

Y/N's question hung in the air, punctuated by a moment of tense silence. Scaramouche regarded them coolly, his expression inscrutable. "It's not a matter of doubt," he finally replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "It's about being realistic. You may have skills, but this isn't a game. We're dealing with dangerous individuals, and I won't risk your safety based on misplaced confidence."

Y/N's jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration crossing their features. "So you think I can't handle myself?" they challenged, a hint of defiance in their tone.

Scaramouche's gaze hardened, a faint glimmer of exasperation betraying his stoic facade. "I think you need to recognize your limitations," he retorted sharply. "Overestimating your abilities could get you killed out there."

Their exchange crackled with tension, each refusing to yield ground in their opposing perspectives.

Y/N looked at Scaramouche intently, their eyes probing for answers. “What are your limitations?” they asked, their voice steady but curious.

Scaramouche's response was a scoff, a sharp and biting sound that seemed to echo off the walls of the office. He couldn't help but chuckle at the audacity of the question. "Limitations?" he repeated, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, my dear Y/N, you have no idea." His tone dripped with arrogance, a reminder of the power he held, both physically and mentally.

Y/N's brows furrowed in confusion, their frustration mounting with each passing moment. "What's that supposed to mean?" they demanded, their voice edged with annoyance.

Scaramouche leaned back in his chair, his expression inscrutable as he regarded Y/N with a mixture of amusement and condescension. "It means," he said slowly, emphasizing each word, "that you have yet to see the full extent of what I'm capable of. And trust me, you don't want to test me."

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, shaking their head in disbelief. "You're such an idiot," they muttered under their breath, unable to contain their frustration any longer.

Scaramouche arched an eyebrow, his expression one of mild amusement. "And how, pray tell, am I an idiot?" he retorted, his tone tinged with sarcasm.

Y/N's voice dripped with frustration as they accused Scaramouche, "You're stupid for not seeing the bigger picture. You're not as strong and godly as you think, it's all just a facade!"

Scaramouche chuckled dismissively, "And how exactly is it a facade?"

Scaramouche, offended, retorted, "And what would you know about me, huh?"

Y/N elaborates, "I've encountered individuals who put up a tough front, but deep down, they're just like everyone else. They hide behind this persona of strength and superiority, but it's often a cover for their insecurities or past traumas." Y/N continues, "People like you, Scaramouche, who exude this air of invincibility, often have vulnerabilities they're desperate to conceal. Whether it's fear, loneliness, or unresolved issues from their past, everyone has their struggles. Pretending to be above it all is just a way to cope, to convince themselves and others that they're in control."

Scaramouche's demeanor shifts, his expression darkening. He scoffs, "You think you have me all figured out, don't you? Well, let me tell you something, Y/N. You don't know anything about me or what I've been through. So, save your amateur psychoanalysis for someone who actually cares." With that, he turns away, his words dripping with disdain.

Y/N stands their ground, their voice firm. "Face the truth, Scaramouche. You can't hide behind your arrogance forever. Eventually, it'll catch up to you."

Scaramouche's tone turns icy as he brings up Y/N's past. "Oh please, spare me your self-righteousness. Let's not forget your own skeletons in the closet."

Y/N's voice hardens. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Spit it out."

Scaramouche smirks, enjoying the discomfort he's causing. "You know exactly what I mean. Don't act innocent now."

Y/N's frustration boils over. "Stop beating around the bush and just say what you mean! Don't pretend anymore!"

Scaramouche finally admits, "Fine, I'll say it. You're just weak."

Y/N clenches their fists, struggling to control their rising anger. They stare at Scaramouche, speechless, as his words cut deep.

Y/N's words cut through the tense air like a knife, their frustration boiling over as they accuse Scaramouche of being blind to the complexities of human emotion. They lash out, labeling him an "idiot" and questioning his very humanity, suggesting that his aloof demeanor is merely a facade hiding his inability to understand genuine feelings. It's a harsh indictment, fueled by their own hurt and anger, as they struggle to comprehend how someone could be so dismissive of the depth of human experience.

Scaramouche's response is a terse and cutting retort, his silence speaking volumes as he delivers a final blow with a simple directive to go to hell before storming out of the room. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, leaving behind a palpable tension and an unresolved conflict between them.

Chapter 17: Fractured Trust

Summary:

Y/N intended to make amends with Scaramouche, but to their surprise, he was still upset about the night before. Scaramouche refuses to discuss it though, leaving Y/N confused and frustrated. They agree to set off on their separate missions.

Y/N woke up the next morning with a heavy weight on their chest, the memory of their argument with Scaramouche still fresh in their mind. They tossed and turned, unable to shake off the guilt that gnawed at them. Despite their frustration with Scaramouche's attitude, they couldn't help but feel remorseful for lashing out at him. They knew deep down that their words had cut deeper than they intended, and now they were filled with regret. Y/N sighed heavily, knowing that they needed to find a way to make things right with Scaramouche, but they weren't sure where to start.

Y/N entered the office with a heavy heart, the weight of their recent argument with Scaramouche still lingering in the air. As they approached his desk, they felt a knot of apprehension tightening in their stomach. Nevertheless, they were determined to apologize and mend the rift between them.

"Scaramouche," they began tentatively, "I... I wanted to talk to you about yesterday. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Scaramouche didn't even look up from his work, his jaw clenched tightly. "Save your apologies," he muttered, his tone icy. "I've heard enough."

Y/N's heart sank at his response, but they pressed on, desperate to make amends. "I know I crossed a line, and I regret it. Can we please just put it behind us and focus on our work?"

Scaramouche finally glanced up, his eyes cold and distant. "Perhaps we should ask someone more humane," he retorted, his words dripping with disdain.

The sting of his rebuke cut deep, and Y/N felt a surge of frustration rising within them. "Seriously? You're still upset about that?" they exclaimed, unable to contain their disbelief.

Scaramouche's expression remained impassive, but the tension between them was palpable. Despite their best efforts to reconcile, it seemed that the wounds from their previous argument ran deeper than they had anticipated.

Y/N, unable to mask their frustration, mustered the courage to confront Scaramouche directly. "Why are you still upset about it?" they asked, their voice tinged with a mix of confusion and irritation.

Scaramouche sighed heavily, his gaze fixed on the papers strewn across his desk. "Because words have consequences," he replied curtly, his tone betraying the lingering hurt beneath his facade.

Y/N's confusion simmered as they struggled to make sense of Scaramouche's seemingly contradictory behavior. "How come you're allowed to get upset over words, but then you get mad at me for doing the same thing?" they questioned, their tone laced with a mixture of frustration and genuine curiosity.

Scaramouche's brow furrowed as he pondered Y/N's words, his expression guarded. "It's not that simple," he replied, his voice tight with restraint. "You crossed a line, Y/N. You know that."

Y/N's frustration mounted at his response, feeling as though their own feelings were being invalidated. "But isn't that what you're doing now?" they countered, their voice tinged with exasperation. "You're upset with me for saying something, yet you're doing the same thing to me."

"It's different," Scaramouche replied tersely, his tone clipped as if he'd rather not delve into the details.

Y/N's frustration bubbled to the surface at his vague response. "Different how?" they demanded, their patience wearing thin. "You can't just dismiss it like that."

Scaramouche's jaw tensed, his eyes flashing with a hint of irritation. "Look, Y/N, some things are better left unsaid," he retorted, his voice tinged with exasperation.

Y/N bristled at his dismissive tone, feeling as though he was purposefully keeping them in the dark. "But how are we supposed to move forward if you won't even talk to me?" they shot back, their voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

Scaramouche's response hung in the air, leaving Y/N with a sense of unease. "I'd rather not discuss it," he said curtly, his tone firm and final.

Y/N's frustration bubbled to the surface at his evasive response. "But we can't just ignore this," they insisted, their voice edged with frustration and confusion. "We need to address whatever's bothering you."

Scaramouche's jaw tensed, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I said I don't want to talk about it," he repeated, his voice tinged with impatience.

Y/N's frustration grew at his stubbornness. "Fine," they said, their tone sharp with irritation. "But don't expect me to just let it go."

Scaramouche brushed off Y/N's concerns, his expression hardening as he refocused on the mission at hand. "Let's just focus on the task," he said dismissively, his tone clipped. "We don't have time for distractions."

Y/N felt a pang of frustration at his disregard for their feelings, but they knew pressing the issue would only lead to more tension. With a resigned sigh, they nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Fine," they muttered, their disappointment evident in their voice. "Let's get back to work."

Scaramouche brought up their plan from the previous night, outlining the details once more. "We'll split up at the designated locations," he explained, his tone businesslike. "Remember, we need to be cautious. The Black Lotus won't go down without a fight."

Y/N agreed reluctantly, conceding to Scaramouche's plan. "Fine," they replied tersely. "I'll take the two, and you can have the three."

Scaramouche nodded, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement. "Good," he replied curtly. "Let's get moving then."

Before they left, Scaramouche handed them a device, a sleek communicator designed for discreet communication. "Use this to stay in touch," he instructed. "It's imperative that we coordinate our movements and keep each other informed of any developments."

Y/N nodded gratefully. "Thanks," they said, tucking the communicator safely into their pocket. Y/N said, "You better stay safe out there."

Scaramouche nodded curtly. "You too," he replied.

Notes:

This one’s a bit of a shorter chapter, but I’m going to split their separate missions in two chapters, one for each pov !! so stay tuned, let me know what you think so far :)

Thank you for the kudos and the comments, I really appreciate it :)

Chapter 18: Alliances In The Shadows

Summary:

After splitting up, Y/N heads to their first location. Once they arrive, they soon find their next captive; who is as nervous as ever. Though, unexpectedly, this leads to a new and helpful lead on their case.

Notes:

This chapter is solely Y/N, no Scaramouche! Next chapter will be the opposite; No Y/N and all Scaramouche.

This is my longest chapter yet—next will most likely be shorter :)

As Y/N set off to the first address on the list, they couldn't shake off the tension from their argument with Scaramouche. Each step felt heavier, weighed down by the unresolved conflict lingering in their mind. They navigated through bustling streets, lost in thought, occasionally glancing at the crumpled piece of paper with the address scrawled on it.

As Y/N approached the first address on their list, they couldn't help but notice the palpable tension in the air. The neighborhood had an eerie quietness to it, with dilapidated buildings lining the narrow streets. The atmosphere was thick with a sense of foreboding, and Y/N's instincts told them that trouble was lurking just around the corner.

As they reached the designated address, a rundown apartment building with peeling paint and boarded-up windows, Y/N's senses sharpened. They took a deep breath, steeling themselves for whatever lay ahead, and pushed open the creaky door. The interior was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floors. The air was heavy with the smell of mildew and something more ominous, like the lingering presence of danger.

Inside, the dimly lit hallway stretched out before them, casting long shadows that danced across the cracked linoleum floor. The air was heavy with the musty scent of neglect, and Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

With cautious steps, Y/N made their way down the hallway, their senses on high alert. Every sound seemed magnified, echoing off the grimy walls and sending shivers down their spine. They approached the door to the apartment with a mixture of trepidation and determination, ready to face whatever awaited them on the other side.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. Y/N's pulse quickened as they braced themselves for a confrontation.

The nervous guy, trying to sound brave but failing miserably, approached Y/N with shaky steps. His attempts at a confident demeanor were betrayed by the trembling of his hands and the quiver in his voice.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" he demanded, his words more of a stutter than a command. Despite his attempts to appear imposing, he couldn't hide the fear etched on his face.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, studying the nervous guy with a mixture of curiosity and caution. "I could ask you the same thing," they replied, their tone firm but not unkind. "I'm here on official business. What about you?"

The nervous guy swallowed hard, his bravado faltering under Y/N's steady gaze. "I... I'm just... uh... I work here," he stammered, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Y/N's suspicion grew as they observed his nervous behavior. "And what exactly do you do here?" they pressed, their voice unwavering.

The nervous guy hesitated before blurting out, "I-I clean! Yes, I'm a janitor. Just a janitor." His attempt to downplay his role only made him seem more suspicious.

Y/N's eyes narrowed as they noticed the badge pinned to the nervous guy's shirt. It was unmistakably adorned with the emblem of the Black Lotus, the very organization they were investigating.

Their suspicion deepened, and a sense of urgency gripped them. "Why are you wearing that badge?" they demanded, their voice cutting through the air like a knife.

The nervous guy's eyes widened in panic, and he instinctively took a step back. "I-I found it! Yeah, that's it. Found it lying around," he stammered, his words betraying his guilt.

Y/N's expression hardened as they assessed the situation. It was clear that the nervous guy was more than just a janitor, and his connection to the Black Lotus was too significant to ignore.

"Found it, huh?" Y/N repeated, their tone dripping with skepticism. "I think you'd better come with me. We have some questions that need answering."

"I won't go down without a fight," he declared, his voice shaky despite his attempts to sound resolute.

Y/N remained calm, their expression unreadable as they assessed the situation. They knew that negotiating with someone like him would require finesse and patience. With a steady voice, Y/N tried to reason with the man, explaining that they were only there to ask some questions.

But the man's resolve seemed to harden, and he bristled at Y/N's attempts to diffuse the tension. He took a defensive stance, his fists clenched at his sides as if preparing for a confrontation.

Y/N braced themselves for whatever might come next, knowing that they would need to stay alert and agile if things were to escalate into a physical altercation. They remained focused, ready to act at a moment's notice, determined to get the answers they needed no matter the cost.

With a sudden burst of aggression, the nervous man lunged forward, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Y/N sidestepped his attack effortlessly, their movements fluid and calculated.

Undeterred, the man persisted, throwing wild punches in Y/N's direction. But each blow was deftly dodged or blocked, their reflexes honed from years of training and experience.

Despite his bravado, it was clear that the man was outmatched. Y/N remained calm and composed, their movements precise as they countered his attacks with precision.

As the scuffle continued, the man's energy waned, his movements growing sluggish with each failed attempt to land a blow. Eventually, he stumbled and fell to the ground, panting heavily as he realized the futility of his efforts.

Standing over him, Y/N maintained their defensive stance, prepared for any further aggression. But the man lay defeated, his resolve broken by their skill and determination. It was clear that he was no match for them in combat.

Y/N swiftly retrieved the communication device from their pocket and sent a message to Scaramouche, informing him of the new development. With a few quick taps, they relayed the information about the apprehended suspect and their intention to bring him in for questioning.

"Got a new suspect," Y/N typed out, their fingers flying over the small keypad. "Heading back to the office with him now. Keep me updated on your end."

With the message sent, Y/N slipped the device back into their pocket and focused on the task at hand, determined to unravel the mysteries surrounding the Black Lotus organization.

As the man attempted to protest, Y/N's expression hardened, their eyes flashing with determination. "Listen to me carefully," they said, their voice steady but commanding. "You're coming with me, whether you like it or not."

The man hesitated, casting a nervous glance around as if searching for an escape route. "I-I can't just go with you," he stammered, his voice trembling slightly.

Y/N took a step closer, their posture exuding confidence. "You don't have a choice," they asserted, their tone leaving no room for negotiation. "We need to have a little chat, and it's in your best interest to cooperate."

The man's resolve wavered under Y/N's unwavering gaze, his shoulders slumping in defeat. With a resigned sigh, he reluctantly nodded. "Fine," he muttered, conceding to Y/N's demands. "But I won't talk."

Y/N simply nodded in response, their expression unreadable as they gestured for him to follow. Despite his reluctance, the man knew that further resistance would only lead to more trouble. Reluctantly, he fell into step behind Y/N as they began to make their way back to the office, the weight of their impending conversation hanging heavily in the air.

──★
Back at the office, Y/N led the man to a small interrogation room, the atmosphere tense as they prepared to question him. Taking a seat across from him, Y/N fixed him with a stern gaze, their expression unyielding as they began their line of questioning.

"Why were you at that address?" Y/N demanded, their voice firm and commanding.

The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Y/N's gaze as he struggled to find an answer. "I-I was just passing through," he stammered, his voice betraying his nervousness.

Y/N narrowed their eyes, their patience wearing thin. "Don't play games with me," they warned, their tone sharp. "We know you're involved with the Black Lotus. Now, why were you there?"

The man's eyes darted around the room, a bead of sweat forming on his brow as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I-I can't tell you anything," he insisted, his voice trembling with fear.

Y/N leaned forward, their demeanor intimidating as they leaned in closer. "You can't or you won't?" they pressed, their voice cold and unyielding.

The man hesitated, his resolve faltering under Y/N's relentless interrogation. Finally, with a defeated sigh, he relented. "Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll talk."

As Y/N questioned the captured individual, they leaned forward, their gaze steady. "Tell me about the place we found you in," they urged, voice calm yet insistent. The dimly lit room seemed to shrink around them, the tension palpable. "Was it a Black Lotus hideout?"

The captive hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty before he finally spoke. "Yeah, it used to be one of their spots," he admitted, his voice betraying a hint of resignation. "But they don't use it anymore. Moved on to bigger and better things, I guess." Y/N narrowed their eyes, sensing there was more to the story than what he was letting on.

Y/N's gaze hardened as they pressed further. "Is that all you know, or are you hiding something?" Their voice carried a note of authority, demanding the truth from the reluctant informant.

Beads of sweat began to form on the man's forehead, glistening in the dim light of the room. His hands, once steady, now trembled slightly as he struggled to maintain his composure. Each question from Y/N seemed to chip away at his facade, exposing the nerves that lay beneath. His breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, betraying the mounting pressure he felt under Y/N's scrutiny. Despite his efforts to appear composed, his nervous demeanor spoke volumes, revealing that there was indeed more to his story than he was willing to divulge.

Voice shaky, he says, “I don’t know anything else, I swear!”

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the man, unwavering in the face of his denial. They could see through his facade, sensing the deception that lingered in the air. "You expect me to believe that?" they challenged, their voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "I know you're hiding something, and I won't stop until I get the truth." With each word, the weight of their determination bore down on the man, leaving him with no choice but to confront the reality of his situation.

As the interrogation room's tense atmosphere lingered, Y/N's persistence bore down on the captive, unyielding in their pursuit of the truth. The man's facade began to crack under the weight of their scrutiny, his nerves betraying the lies he attempted to uphold. The captive's resolve wavered, torn between the fear of retribution and the faint glimmer of hope that Y/N's offer provided. His gaze flickered, darting around the room as if seeking an escape from the truth he dared not speak.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the room as the door burst open, startling both Y/N and the captive. In strode a figure clad in black, the emblem of the Black Lotus gang emblazoned on their chest. A cold, calculating smirk played across their lips as they surveyed the scene before them.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Seems like our little informant has gotten himself into quite the predicament."

Y/N tensed, their hand instinctively reaching for their weapon as they squared off against the intruder. "You're not welcome here," they growled, their voice laced with authority.

The Black Lotus member merely chuckled, unperturbed by Y/N's threat. "Oh, I think you'll find that I am," they replied, their tone icy. "And I have a proposition for you."

With a flick of their wrist, they produced a folded piece of paper, tossing it onto the table between them. Y/N eyed it warily, a sense of unease settling in the pit of their stomach.

"What's this?" they demanded, their voice tinged with suspicion.

The Black Lotus member smirked, their gaze unwavering. "A map," they replied cryptically. "To something that might interest you."

Y/N's curiosity piqued, despite their reservations. They cautiously unfolded the paper, their eyes scanning its contents with growing interest. As they studied the intricate markings and cryptic symbols, a sense of foreboding washed over them.

"What is this place?" they asked, their voice barely above a whisper.

The Black Lotus member's smirk widened, their eyes gleaming with malice. "A labyrinth of shadows," they replied ominously. "And you, detective, are about to uncover its darkest secrets."

Y/N kept a firm grip on their weapon, eyes narrowing as they took in the smirking intruder. "Who are you?" they demanded, their voice steady despite the growing tension in the room.

The Black Lotus member met Y/N's gaze with a chilling calmness, the smirk never leaving their face. "Names are unimportant," they replied, their tone dismissive. "But you can call me Raven."

Y/N's mind raced, trying to recall any information about a Raven within the gang's ranks, but came up empty. This person was an enigma, a wild card in an already dangerous game.

"Why are you here, Raven?" Y/N pressed, their voice hardening. "What do you want?"

Raven took a step closer, their eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and menace. "I'm here to offer you a deal," they said smoothly. "This map leads to a location that the Black Lotus wants to keep hidden. You find it, and you'll uncover secrets that could bring the entire gang down."

Y/N's eyes flickered to the map, then back to Raven. "And why should I trust you?" they asked, skepticism clear in their voice.

Raven's smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of cold determination. "Because," they said quietly, "I have my own reasons for wanting the Black Lotus dismantled. Consider this a mutually beneficial arrangement."

The captive, who had been watching the exchange in stunned silence, suddenly found his voice. "You can't trust him!" he blurted out, his fear palpable. "He's playing you!"

Raven's gaze snapped to the captive, a dangerous glint in their eyes. "I'd keep quiet if I were you," they warned, their voice low and menacing. "You have no idea what's at stake here."

Y/N weighed their options, the room thick with tension. Trusting Raven was a risk, but the map could lead to a breakthrough in their investigation—a chance to take down the Black Lotus once and for all.

Finally, Y/N nodded slowly, their decision made. "Alright, Raven," they said, folding the map and tucking it into their jacket. "But if you double-cross me, I'll make sure you regret it."

Raven's smirk returned, a flicker of respect in their eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less," they replied. "Now, it’s time to get started. Time is of the essence, and the shadows are always watching."

Chapter 19: The Hunter In The Shadows

Summary:

While Y/N is discovering one address, Scaramouche is discovering another. Scaramouche discovers some evidence—even if it didn’t initially turn out the way he expected.

Far from Y/N's tense interrogation room, Scaramouche moved with purpose through the decrepit remains of an old warehouse. The dilapidated building, with its peeling paint and broken windows, stood as a silent testament to its forgotten past. Shadows clung to the corners, shrouding the place in an eerie darkness that seemed to swallow even the faintest glimmers of light.

Scaramouche's sharp eyes scanned his surroundings, taking in every detail. His every step was deliberate, calculated, as he navigated the labyrinthine halls. He knew this place had once been a stronghold of the Black Lotus gang, but its current state suggested it had been abandoned hastily, leaving behind only whispers of its former significance.

Pausing by a rusted metal door, Scaramouche reached into his coat and pulled out a small, sleek device. With a flick of his wrist, the device illuminated, casting a blue glow that revealed hidden markings on the door. He traced the symbols with his gloved fingers, deciphering the code with practiced ease. The door creaked open, revealing a hidden room beyond.

Inside, the room was cluttered with remnants of the gang's operations—discarded weapons, faded maps, and stacks of files covered in dust. Scaramouche approached a desk, its surface littered with papers and a flickering old computer screen. He powered up the device, its hum breaking the silence of the abandoned space.

As he worked, extracting data and piecing together the fragmented information, his thoughts wandered to the significance of this place. The Black Lotus had left it behind, but why? What had driven them to abandon a base that once held such strategic value?

His musings were interrupted by a faint sound—a soft creak, barely perceptible, coming from the hallway behind him. Scaramouche's senses sharpened, his body tensing as he prepared for the possibility of an intruder. He slid into the shadows, becoming one with the darkness, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his blade.

A figure emerged from the hallway, moving cautiously. Scaramouche's eyes narrowed as he recognized the emblem on the intruder's jacket—it was another member of the Black Lotus gang. The man seemed unaware of Scaramouche's presence, his attention focused on the same room Scaramouche had just been investigating.

Silently, Scaramouche moved, his steps soundless on the old wooden floor. He closed the distance between them with the grace of a predator stalking its prey. Just as the intruder reached the desk, Scaramouche struck, his blade flashing in the dim light as he pinned the man against the wall.

"Who sent you?" Scaramouche's voice was a deadly whisper, his eyes cold and unyielding.

The intruder gasped, fear and surprise mingling in his wide eyes. "I... I was sent to retrieve the files," he stammered, his voice trembling. "They said it was urgent. The boss doesn't want any loose ends."

Scaramouche tightened his grip, his blade pressing slightly against the man's throat. "And what does your boss fear these files will reveal?" he demanded.

The man hesitated, then blurted out, "Plans. Locations of other hideouts. And... something about a labyrinth. They called it the Heart of Shadows."

Scaramouche's eyes flickered with interest. "The Heart of Shadows," he repeated, more to himself than to the intruder. "Tell me more."

But before the man could elaborate, a shot rang out, echoing through the warehouse. The intruder's body went limp in Scaramouche's grip, his eyes glazing over as blood pooled on the floor. Scaramouche spun around, his blade ready, but the shooter had already vanished into the darkness, leaving only the echo of their gunshot behind.

Scaramouche cursed under his breath, letting the dead man fall to the ground. He knew he was running out of time. The Black Lotus was moving quickly, and he needed to stay one step ahead. With renewed determination, he gathered the files and data, securing them in his bag.

As he exited the warehouse, slipping back into the night, Scaramouche's mind raced with the new information. The Heart of Shadows. It was a clue, a lead that could unravel the secrets of the Black Lotus gang. And he would stop at nothing to uncover it.

Scaramouche returned to the office, his mind buzzing with the new evidence he had uncovered. The dimly lit space was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and the hum of the air conditioning. He made his way to his desk, where Y/N was already seated, sifting through their own pile of documents.

Y/N looked up as he approached, their eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. "Scaramouche," they greeted, their voice tinged with surprise. "What did you find?"

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “The Heart of Shadows? That lines up with what I discovered today.” They leaned in, their interest piqued. “I arrested and questioned one of their members. He mentioned the same place before he clammed up. But that’s not all—we already have the map to get there.”

Scaramouche looked surprised. “You have the map?”

Y/N nodded, reaching into their bag and pulling out a folded piece of paper. They spread it out on the desk, revealing a detailed map with marked coordinates. “Let’s just say one of the gang members had this on him. It leads straight to the Heart of Shadows. I was planning to follow up on it before you came in.”

Scaramouche examined the map, a sense of urgency building within him. “Then we need to act fast. If the Heart of Shadows is as crucial as we think, it will be heavily guarded and could contain everything we need to bring the Black Lotus down.”

Y/N agreed, their expression determined. “I think our best approach is to go in together. We can cover more ground and handle any surprises they might have in store for us.”

Scaramouche nodded. “Agreed. We need to gather our resources and plan this carefully. If we hit them hard and fast, we might catch them off guard.”

“Let’s rest and gather our strength,” Y/N said, rolling up the map and tucking it safely away. “Tomorrow, we take the fight to the Black Lotus.”

Scaramouche met Y/N’s gaze, a fierce resolve in his eyes. “Tomorrow,” he agreed, knowing that their combined efforts might finally bring an end to the Black Lotus’s reign of terror.

Chapter 20: Twists Of Fate

Summary:

After a successful day, Y/N and Scaramouche run into Tartaglia. He offers to take them out for dinner and drinks, which ends up revealing something in Scaramouche he couldn’t simply figure out.

As night fell, Scaramouche and Y/N left the office, their minds still buzzing with the plans they had laid out for the following day. The city streets were quiet, the usual hustle and bustle giving way to a serene, almost eerie calm. Streetlights cast long shadows, and the cool night air provided a brief respite from the intensity of their work.

Walking side by side, they discussed the final details of their plan. "We need to be prepared for anything," Y/N said, their voice reflecting the gravity of their mission. "The Heart of Shadows could be heavily fortified."

Scaramouche nodded, his expression serious. "We'll have to be smart about this. Infiltrate quietly, gather intel, and strike hard."

As they turned a corner, they almost collided with a tall figure who seemed to materialize out of the shadows. Tartaglia, with his ever-present smirk and confident demeanor, stood before them. "Well, well, if it isn't Scaramouche and Y/N," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Fancy running into you two here."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Tartaglia, what are you doing out here at this hour?"

Tartaglia shrugged casually. "Just finished up some business and thought I'd grab a bite to eat. How about it? Dinner's on me. We could all use a break."

Scaramouche glanced at Y/N, then back at Tartaglia. "We have a lot to do, Tartaglia," he said, though there was a hint of curiosity in his tone. "Why the sudden generosity?"

Tartaglia chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Consider it a peace offering. You both look like you could use a good meal and a bit of distraction. Come on, there's a great place just around the corner."

Y/N and Scaramouche exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. Despite their reservations, the idea of taking a moment to relax and gather their thoughts was tempting. "Alright," Y/N said finally. "Lead the way."

The trio made their way to a cozy, unassuming restaurant tucked away in a quiet alley. Inside, the warm lighting and the rich aroma of spices created an inviting atmosphere. They settled into a booth, and Tartaglia promptly ordered a variety of dishes, insisting they try a bit of everything.

As they waited for their food, the conversation flowed more easily than any of them had anticipated. Tartaglia regaled them with stories of his recent escapades, his animated storytelling drawing a few genuine laughs from Y/N and even a smirk from Scaramouche.

Tartaglia leaned back in his chair, a relaxed smile on his face. "So, how about some drinks? My treat," he offered, glancing between Scaramouche and Y/N.

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Remember what happened last time we got drinks together?” he reminded them, his tone cautionary.

Y/N bristled, a hint of annoyance flashing across their face. “You can’t tell me what to drink, Scaramouche,” they snapped. “I can handle myself just fine.”

Scaramouche sighed, conceding. “Fine, have your drinks. But if you end up drunk, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

To spite Scaramouche, Y/N turned to the waiter with a determined glint in their eye. “I’ll have your strongest,” they ordered, their voice firm.

Scaramouche, not one to be outdone, turned to the waiter as well. “Make that two,” he said, matching Y/N’s challenge.

Tartaglia chuckled, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “Alright, alright. Drinks it is. Let’s make it a night to remember—for all the right reasons.”

Scaramouche shook his head slightly but couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered.

As their drinks arrived, Y/N wasted no time in picking up the glass and downing its contents in one swift motion. The strong liquid burned on the way down, but they barely flinched, a defiant glint in their eyes as they slammed the empty glass back onto the table.

Tartaglia chuckled, clearly entertained by the spectacle. "Looks like someone's eager to let loose," he observed, raising an eyebrow at Y/N.

Y/N flashed a triumphant grin, feeling the rush of alcohol beginning to warm their veins. "Just getting started," they declared, their words slightly slurred but their confidence unwavering. Y/N grinned, feeling the rush of alcohol beginning to warm their veins. “Come on, Scaramouche,” they urged, nudging his arm playfully. “Drink up. Loosen up a little. It’s not every day we get to let our hair down.”

Scaramouche hesitated for a moment, eyeing the glass before him with a mix of reluctance and curiosity. Eventually, with a resigned sigh, he picked it up and took a cautious sip, the strong flavor hitting his palate with a sharp bite.

Y/N chuckled, leaning back in their chair with a satisfied grin. “That’s the spirit,” they said, raising their glass in a mock toast. “To unexpected alliances and memorable nights.”

As the night progressed and the drinks flowed freely, Tartaglia leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "So, how's the mission going?" he asked, his tone casual but tinged with genuine interest.

Y/N exchanged a knowing glance with Scaramouche before answering, a playful smile playing on their lips. "Let's just say we're making progress," they replied cryptically, their words laced with a hint of mischief.

Scaramouche nodded in agreement, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "We have a few leads we're following up on," he added, his tone equally vague yet filled with quiet confidence.

Tartaglia raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story than they were letting on. "Sounds intriguing," he remarked, his curiosity clearly piqued. "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you two can handle it."

Y/N turned to Tartaglia, their expression curious. “So, how about you, Tartaglia? How’s everything on your end?” they asked, genuine interest shining in their eyes.

Tartaglia leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he replied with a shrug, his tone casual. “Just keeping busy with work and trying to stay one step ahead of the competition.”

Y/N nodded, understanding the sentiment. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full,” they remarked, a hint of admiration in their voice.

Tartaglia grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Always,” he replied, his confidence unwavering. “But hey, that’s just the thrill of the game, isn’t it?”

As Scaramouche watched Y/N and Tartaglia engage in conversation, a subtle pang of something stirred within him. He brushed it off at first, dismissing it as mere curiosity or perhaps a hint of skepticism towards Tartaglia's intentions. But as the evening wore on, the feeling persisted, growing stronger with each passing moment.

Jealousy? No, that couldn't be it. Scaramouche prided himself on his unwavering confidence and self-assurance. He had never been one to succumb to petty emotions like jealousy. And yet, as he observed the easy rapport between Y/N and Tartaglia, he couldn't shake the nagging sense of... something.

Lost in his thoughts, Scaramouche didn't realize he had been staring into the distance until Y/N's voice broke through the haze. He blinked, refocusing his attention on them as they regarded him with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Scaramouche, are you alright?" Y/N asked, their voice soft with genuine concern.

Scaramouche hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected question. "I'm fine," he replied quickly, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears.

Y/N didn't seem convinced, their gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before they nodded, accepting his answer for now. "Alright, just making sure," they said gently, before turning back to the conversation with Tartaglia.

As the evening unfolded, Scaramouche couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Tartaglia's demeanor whenever he interacted with Y/N. There was a certain gleam in his eyes, a playful smirk that seemed to linger a little too long, and a smoothness in his words that bordered on flirtatious.

Tartaglia's compliments were veiled with charm, delivered with a casual ease that belied their underlying intention. He found ways to subtly touch Y/N's arm or shoulder, his gestures light and seemingly innocent but carrying a hint of intimacy.

His laughter was infectious, his smile warm and inviting, and with each passing moment, it became increasingly clear that Tartaglia was enjoying the playful dance of flirtation, reveling in the opportunity to charm and seduce with his effortless charisma.

Y/N, for their part, seemed to reciprocate Tartaglia's flirtatious banter with an equal measure of amusement and interest. Their smiles were genuine, their laughter easy, and though they remained oblivious to the undercurrent of tension brewing between Scaramouche and Tartaglia, they couldn't deny the spark of chemistry that ignited between them.

Despite his best efforts to remain calm and composed, Scaramouche felt the sting of jealousy gnawing at him, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed facade he had worked so hard to maintain. But he refused to let it show, burying his emotions beneath a mask of indifference as he silently battled the rising tide of insecurity and longing that threatened to consume him.

Tartaglia's flirtatious advances became more overt, culminating in a compliment that caught even Y/N off guard. "You know, Y/N," Tartaglia said with a charming smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "your eyes are absolutely gorgeous. They're like pools of mystery, drawing me in with every glance."

Y/N blinked in surprise, a faint blush coloring their cheeks as they exchanged a glance with Scaramouche, who had been observing the exchange with a growing sense of unease.

Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Scaramouche spoke up, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "Tartaglia, what's with the sudden flirtation?" he asked bluntly, his gaze fixed on the other man.

Tartaglia's smile widened, unfazed by the interruption. "Just appreciating beauty when I see it," he replied smoothly, his tone laced with playful charm. "Surely you can't fault a man for paying a compliment?"

Scaramouche narrowed his eyes, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. "I'm not faulting you for paying a compliment," he retorted, his tone clipped. "But there's a difference between appreciation and flirtation, and right now, it feels like you're crossing a line."

Y/N glanced between the two men, sensing the tension that had suddenly descended upon the table. "Guys, let's not make a big deal out of this," they interjected, their voice calm but firm. "It's just harmless banter."

But Scaramouche couldn't let it go, his jealousy flaring up despite his best efforts to keep it in check. "Harmless banter, huh?" he muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed on Tartaglia with a mixture of distrust and resentment.

Tartaglia met his stare head-on, his own gaze unyielding. "If it bothers you so much, Scaramouche, perhaps you should ask yourself why," he suggested with a smirk, a hint of challenge in his voice.

Sensing the rising tension between Scaramouche and Tartaglia, Y/N intervened, their voice calm but firm. “Scaramouche, calm down,” they said, their tone gentle yet authoritative.

Scaramouche took another deep breath, his features relaxing as he forced himself to adopt a more composed demeanor. "I'm calm," he stated, his voice steady, though the tightness in his jaw betrayed the lingering tension.

Feeling the weight of his emotions begin to ease, Scaramouche signaled to the waiter for another drink, hoping to wash away the lingering traces of tension with a sip of something strong.

As the glass was set before him, he took a moment to savor the familiar burn of the alcohol, relishing in the temporary reprieve it offered from his tumultuous thoughts. With each sip, Scaramouche felt a sense of calm settle over him, the sharp edges of his emotions blunted by the numbing embrace of the alcohol.

As Scaramouche ordered another drink, Tartaglia couldn't help but comment, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Taking the edge off, are we?" he quipped, his tone light but tinged with amusement.

Scaramouche's patience wore thin as Tartaglia continued to make veiled remarks. With a hint of irritation creeping into his voice, he finally snapped, "Shut up, Tartaglia."

The words hung in the air, heavy with tension, as the two men locked eyes, a silent challenge passing between them.

Tartaglia's smile faltered for a moment, surprise flickering across his features before he recovered, his expression shifting to one of amusement. "Touchy, aren't we?" he remarked, his tone teasing but edged with a hint of something more.

Scaramouche bristled at the comment, his jaw clenched tight as he fought to maintain his composure. "Just mind your own business," he retorted, his voice terse.

Sensing the escalating tension between Scaramouche and Tartaglia, Y/N intervened, their voice firm but gentle. “Alright, that’s enough,” they interjected, their tone carrying a note of authority. “Let’s calm down and stop arguing.”

Scaramouche remained silent, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he resisted the urge to engage further. With a subtle roll of his eyes, he made it clear that he was unimpressed by Tartaglia's charm offensive.

Meanwhile, Tartaglia offered Y/N a playful smile, his tone laced with flirtatiousness as he apologized. "My apologies, darling," he said with a wink, his words dripping with charm. "I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers. Can you ever forgive me?"

Y/N chuckled, shaking their head at Tartaglia's antics but unable to suppress a fond smile. "Of course, Tartaglia," they replied with a hint of amusement, their tone indulgent. "Just try to play nice, alright?"

Tartaglia grinned, his charm seemingly unaffected by the earlier tension. "Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," he assured them, his voice smooth as silk.

As the night grew late and the effects of the alcohol began to take their toll, Y/N and Scaramouche exchanged knowing glances, silently agreeing that it was time to call it a night.

"Alright, I think it's time we head home," Y/N said with a gentle smile, their tone carrying a note of concern as they glanced at Scaramouche, who was visibly more than a little tipsy.

Scaramouche nodded, though the alcohol had dulled his senses, leaving him feeling unsteady on his feet. "Yeah, probably a good idea," he mumbled, his words slightly slurred as he struggled to maintain his balance.

As Y/N gently offered to help him home, Scaramouche initially attempted to brush off their concern with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nah, I’m fine,” he insisted, his words slurred ever so slightly as he tried to maintain his composure.

But Y/N wasn’t convinced, their brows furrowing with worry as they observed Scaramouche’s unsteady stance. “Come on, Scaramouche,” they replied, their tone gentle but firm. “You’re not fooling anyone. Let’s get you home, alright?”

Scaramouche hesitated, a flicker of stubbornness crossing his features before he finally relented, leaning into Y/N’s offered arm for support. “Alright, alright,” he conceded with a sigh, his pride momentarily set aside in the face of their genuine concern.

Without hesitation, Y/N offered him a supportive arm, their touch reassuring as they guided him out of the bar and onto the quiet streets outside.

As the trio reached Scaramouche's hotel building, Tartaglia bid them farewell with a casual wave, his charming smile still firmly in place. "Well, it's been a pleasure, as always," he said with a wink, his tone light and playful.

But before he could turn to leave, Tartaglia couldn't resist one final flirtatious remark, his gaze lingering on Y/N as he spoke. "Until next time, darling," he said with a smirk, his words dripping with charm.

The comment was the final straw for Scaramouche, his simmering frustration boiling over into a flash of anger. Without a second thought, he lashed out, his fist connecting with Tartaglia's jaw in a swift, unexpected punch. The blow caught Tartaglia off guard, his eyes widening in surprise as he stumbled backward, caught off balance by the unexpected assault.

Y/N gasped in shock, reaching out to grab Scaramouche's arm in an attempt to restrain him. "Scaramouche, stop!" they exclaimed, their voice filled with alarm.

But it was too late. The damage had been done, and as Tartaglia regained his footing, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickered across his features.

"Looks like someone's got a bit of a temper," he remarked with a smirk, though there was a hint of respect in his tone.

Scaramouche's chest heaved with exertion, his fists clenched tight as he struggled to contain his anger. "Stay away from them," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Tartaglia raised his hands in a placating gesture, his expression surprisingly calm given the circumstances. "Alright, alright, I'll keep my distance," he said with a smirk, though there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. "But you might want to work on that temper of yours, Scaramouche. It could get you into trouble one of these days."

As Tartaglia made his departure, Y/N turned their attention to Scaramouche, concern etched into their features. "Are you okay?" they asked softly, their voice laced with worry.

Scaramouche's jaw clenched, his expression tense as he tried to reign in his emotions. "I'm fine," he muttered, his tone clipped.

Y/N studied him for a moment, their gaze searching his face for any sign of vulnerability. "Are you sure?" they pressed gently, their concern unwavering.

Scaramouche's resolve wavered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he shook his head. "I'll be fine," he insisted, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears.

Y/N hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave him alone in his current state. "I could walk you inside, just to make sure you're okay," they offered, their voice soft with concern.

But Scaramouche shook his head, his pride refusing to let him accept their help. "I'll manage," he replied tersely, his tone final.

With a resigned nod, Y/N relented, though the worry in their eyes remained. "Alright," they said quietly, their voice tinged with regret. "Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

Scaramouche offered them a tight-lipped smile, a silent acknowledgment of their concern. "I will," he assured them, though the weight of his own turmoil lingered heavy in his chest.

Notes:

Okay this is my longest chapter by far… It’s finally starting… ;)

I hope it doesn’t seem too soon, if anyone has any suggestions or feedback don’t be afraid to let me know in the comments !!

Chapter 21: Memoirs Of Night

Summary:

After a night out with Y/N and Tartaglia, the next morning Scaramouche is filled with strange and unexpected emotions. After meeting at the office, the two of them manage to gain significant information regarding their biggest suspect.

As the first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, Scaramouche slowly blinked his eyes open, only to be met with a throbbing headache that pulsed with each beat of his heart. Groaning, he pressed a hand to his temple, the memories of the previous night flooding back with painful clarity.

He remembered the drinks, the laughter, and the tension that had simmered just beneath the surface. And as the events of the night replayed in his mind, Scaramouche couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret at his own lack of restraint.

Dragging himself out of bed, he stumbled into the bathroom, his reflection in the mirror a stark reminder of his own folly. With a sigh, he reached for a glass of water, hoping to ease the pounding in his head even just a little.

As Scaramouche tried to piece together the events of the previous night, one memory stood out with uncomfortable clarity: Tartaglia's flirtatious remarks directed at Y/N. The memory sparked a pang of jealousy that he tried to suppress, chalking it up to mere annoyance at Tartaglia's antics.

But deep down, Scaramouche knew better. He couldn't deny the twinge of envy that had gnawed at him as he watched Tartaglia charm his way into Y/N's affections.

Frowning, Scaramouche tried to push the feelings aside, telling himself that jealousy was beneath him. He was above such base emotions, or so he liked to think.

Yet, try as he might to convince himself otherwise, the truth remained: Tartaglia's flirting had struck a nerve, stirring up emotions that Scaramouche would rather not acknowledge. With a sigh, Scaramouche shook his head, determined to bury the uncomfortable thoughts and focus on the tasks at hand.

As Scaramouche tried to rationalize his feelings of jealousy, a nagging question tugged at the corners of his mind: why did he even care so much?

He couldn’t deny the unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Tartaglia flirting with Y/N. But as he wrestled with his emotions, Scaramouche found himself grappling with the underlying reasons behind his reaction.

A troubling thought crossed his mind: did he actually care about Y/N, or was it all just for the sake of the mission?

He couldn’t possibly care about Y/N… right?

──★
As Scaramouche arrived at work, he was greeted by the sight of Y/N waiting for him, their expression a mix of concern and anticipation.

"Hey," Y/N said softly, their voice carrying a note of warmth as they approached him. "How are you feeling?"

Scaramouche offered them a small smile, grateful for their presence. "Better," he replied honestly, though the remnants of his hangover still lingered in the back of his mind.

Y/N studied him for a moment, their gaze searching his face for any sign of lingering discomfort. "Glad to hear it," they said with a nod, their tone gentle and reassuring.

“Should we continue gathering information about the Heart of Shadows?” Scaramouche’s voice was measured, his eyes flickering with a hint of uncertainty as he turned to Y/N for their input.

Y/N considered his question for a moment, their brow furrowing in thought. “I think it’s wise to gather as much information as possible before we proceed,” they replied, their tone thoughtful. “The more we know about our target, the better prepared we’ll be to face whatever challenges await us.”

Scaramouche nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over him at Y/N’s sensible approach. “Agreed,” he said with a determined nod. “Let’s gather all the intel we can before we make our move. We can’t afford to leave anything to chance.”

"Continuing to gather information will also give you the chance to get over your hangover," Y/N remarked with a playful smile.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow in surprise. "How did you know I had one?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Y/N chuckled softly. "Well, let's just say you weren't exactly subtle about it last night," they replied, their tone teasing. "But don't worry, we've all been there."

Scaramouche grimaced, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he remembered his less-than-dignified behavior from the previous evening. "Right," he muttered, feeling a twinge of regret at his lack of restraint.

"About last night..." Y/N began, their voice tinged with a hint of apology, but Scaramouche quickly cut them off.

"It's fine, really," Scaramouche interjected, his tone earnest as he held up a hand to stop Y/N from continuing. "I should be the one apologising. I shouldn't have been so... weird about him."

"Why were you mad at Tartaglia's flirting?" Y/N asked, their voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

Y/N’s question lingered in the air, prompting Scaramouche to pause and reflect on his own emotions.

“I think… it caught me off guard,” he admitted, his voice tinged with honesty. “Tartaglia’s flirting just… rubbed me the wrong way. I suppose I felt like he was overstepping boundaries, especially considering our… professional relationship.”

Scaramouche’s words hung between them, heavy with unspoken tension. Y/N listened quietly, their expression thoughtful as they processed his explanation.

After a moment, Y/N spoke, their voice gentle yet probing. “Do you think it was just about professionalism, or… was there something else bothering you?”

Y/N’s question lingered in the air, prompting Scaramouche to pause and reflect on his own emotions.

“I think… it caught me off guard,” he admitted, his voice tinged with honesty. “Tartaglia’s flirting just… rubbed me the wrong way. I suppose I felt like he was overstepping boundaries, especially considering our… professional relationship.”

Scaramouche’s words hung between them, heavy with unspoken tension. Y/N listened quietly, their expression thoughtful as they processed his explanation.

After a moment, Y/N spoke, their voice gentle yet probing. “Do you think it was just about professionalism, or… was there something else bothering you?”

"Never mind," Y/N shrugged, a flicker of uncertainty crossing their features. "Forget I said anything."

Despite his lingering suspicion, Scaramouche decided to let it go, trusting Y/N's judgment. "Alright, if you say so," he replied, though a hint of doubt lingered in his mind. With a shrug, he turned his attention back to their work, determined not to let the momentary tension distract them from their mission.

"I'll start looking into recent police reports and see if there's any mention of the Heart of Shadows or any related activity," Y/N stated, their voice filled with determination. "We might find something useful there." With a nod of affirmation, they began their search, their focus unwavering as they delved into the data.

"Sounds like a plan," Scaramouche agreed, his tone reflecting a sense of approval. "Let's see what we can dig up."

After hours of meticulous searching, Scaramouche’s efforts finally paid off. With a sense of triumph, he discovered a lead buried within the depths of the police reports.

"I found something about a guy," Scaramouche began, his voice tinged with excitement as he relayed his discovery to Y/N. "There's not a lot of information, but all signs point to him being the leader of the group operating near the outskirts of the city."

Y/N leaned in, their interest piqued by the revelation. "Do we have a name?" they asked, their tone eager.

Scaramouche shook his head regretfully. "Not yet," he replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "But I'm working on it. With any luck, we'll have a name to go on soon."

“I found a report similar to yours,” Y/N interjected, excitement lacing their words. “It mentions an alias name that might be linked to our suspect.”

Scaramouche’s eyes widened with intrigue, his excitement mirroring Y/N’s. “That’s promising,” he replied, his tone eager. “Let’s cross-reference the alias with our existing information and see if we can uncover more about our suspect’s identity.”

As Scaramouche and Y/N scrutinized the data, a sense of anticipation filled the room. With bated breath, they compared the alias to their existing information, and to their astonishment, the pieces fell into place: Lianhua, the alias, matched up perfectly with the details they had gathered about their suspect.

“It’s him,” Scaramouche declared, his voice tinged with excitement and determination. “Lianhua is our guy.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as they nodded in agreement. “We’ve got him,” they affirmed, a sense of triumph evident in their voice. “Now we just need to figure out our next move.”

“Given what we know now, we need to devise a plan to apprehend Lianhua,” Scaramouche replied, his tone serious as he considered their next steps. “We’ll need to gather as much information as we can about his whereabouts and his operations before we make a move.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, their expression thoughtful. “Agreed,” they said. “We should also consider reaching out to our contacts for any additional intel that could help us.”

Scaramouche’s eyes brightened with approval at the suggestion. “Good idea,” he said. “The more information we have, the better prepared we’ll be.”

As Scaramouche and Y/N were deep in discussion, the door creaked open, and Ningguang, their contact from the intelligence agency, entered the room with a purposeful stride.

"Good evening," Ningguang greeted them, her voice carrying an air of authority. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

Scaramouche and Y/N exchanged surprised glances before Y/N spoke up. "Not at all, Ningguang," they replied. "Actually, your timing couldn't be better. We were just discussing our next steps regarding the Heart of Shadows."

Ningguang's expression turned serious as she listened to their update. "I see," she said, her tone thoughtful. "I've gathered some additional information that might be of interest to you."

"Thank you, Ningguang, for the information," Y/N expressed gratitude, their tone appreciative. "We really appreciate your help."

Ningguang nodded, her smile warm and gracious. "Of course," she replied. "I'm always happy to assist."

"Oh, by the way," Ningguang added, her tone light and casual, "I'm going out to dinner tonight and was wondering if the two of you would like to accompany me."

Scaramouche and Y/N exchanged surprised glances before Y/N spoke up, expressing their gratitude for the invitation.

"We'd love to join you," Y/N replied, their tone warm and appreciative.

"I hope you don't mind that a few friends of mine will be there," Ningguang added, her tone apologetic yet hopeful.

Scaramouche and Y/N exchanged a glance, both nodding in understanding. "Not at all," Y/N replied, their tone reassuring. "We'd be happy to meet your friends."

“Excellent,” Ningguang responded with a satisfied smile. “I’ll see you both there.”

With a final nod of farewell, Ningguang left the room, leaving Scaramouche and Y/N to their own devices.

Chapter 22: Secrets Over Spirits

Summary:

After Ningguang had offered to take Y/N and Scaramouche out for dinner, they were surprised by some of the guests there. For the most part, everyone got on well, despite Scaramouche who struggled with his own problems.

Later that night, as the time for dinner approached, Scaramouche and Y/N left the office, their minds already shifting towards the evening's plans. With a shared sense of anticipation, they parted ways briefly, each heading home to refresh themselves before the gathering.

Scaramouche entered his apartment, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he shed the weight of the day's responsibilities. He took a moment to freshen up, quickly changing into a clean shirt and running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame its unruly frizz. With a satisfied nod at his reflection in the mirror, he grabbed his coat and headed back out into the night.

Meanwhile, Y/N returned to their own apartment, taking a moment to unwind and relax after a long day of work. They indulged in a refreshing shower, letting the warm water wash away the stresses of the day, before slipping into a comfortable yet stylish outfit for the evening ahead. With a final glance in the mirror to ensure everything was just right, they grabbed their keys and headed out the door, excitement bubbling within them as they made their way to the restaurant.

As Scaramouche arrived at the restaurant, he scanned the bustling interior, his eyes quickly landing on Ningguang. She was seated at a large table with several familiar faces, including Tartaglia, Beidou, Zhongli, and Kazuha.

Approaching the table, Scaramouche greeted Ningguang with a nod of acknowledgment. "Good evening, Ningguang," he said, his tone polite as he took a seat beside her.

Ningguang smiled warmly in return, gesturing to the others at the table. "I'm glad you could join us," she said graciously. "Allow me to introduce you to my friends."

Suppressing his annoyance, Scaramouche addressed Ningguang with a polite yet pointed inquiry. "I must admit, Ningguang, I'm surprised to see you in the company of someone like Tartaglia. How did your paths cross?"

Ningguang's smile remained serene as she responded, her tone measured. "Ah, well, friendships can form in the most unexpected of places," she replied diplomatically. "Tartaglia has proven himself to be a valuable ally in certain... endeavors."

Scaramouche's skepticism was evident, but he chose to hold his tongue, not wishing to cause tension in front of their hosts. Instead, he turned his attention to the others at the table, engaging in polite conversation while silently pondering the dynamics of the group before him.

As Y/N arrived and joined the group, Tartaglia's eyes lit up with recognition and admiration. "Ah, Y/N, there you are!" he exclaimed, his tone warm as he offered them a charming smile. "You're looking particularly lovely tonight, if I may say so."

Y/N's cheeks flushed with a becoming blush at the unexpected compliment, and they offered Tartaglia a grateful smile in return. "Thank you," they replied, their voice tinged with bashfulness as they took a seat at the table.

Scaramouche's irritation simmered beneath the surface as he observed the exchange, but he chose to remain silent, not wanting to spoil the evening with his own frustrations.

“Welcome, Y/N,” Ningguang greeted with a warm smile as they took their seat at the table. “It’s a pleasure to have you join us this evening.”

Y/N returned Ningguang’s greeting with a smile of their own, feeling welcomed and appreciated amidst the lively group. “Thank you for having me,” they replied graciously, their tone polite.

"Why did you invite everyone to dinner?" Y/N inquired, their curiosity piqued as they glanced around the table.

Ningguang's smile remained serene as she responded, her tone measured. "It's just nice to enjoy the company of others," she explained. "Life can be so busy and full of responsibilities. Sometimes, it's important to take a moment to simply be present with friends and enjoy each other's company."

Y/N nodded in understanding, appreciating Ningguang's sentiment. "That's true," they agreed with a smile.

As Scaramouche observed Y/N interacting with the others, a subtle yet unfamiliar sensation stirred within him. It was a feeling he couldn't quite decipher, a mixture of admiration, curiosity, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Despite his attempts to rationalize the emotion, Scaramouche found himself drawn to Y/N in a way that defied explanation. Their presence seemed to captivate him, their every gesture and expression holding an inexplicable allure that left him both intrigued and unsettled.

Scaramouche's internal turmoil only intensified as he scolded himself for his conflicting emotions. He berated himself for allowing his thoughts to stray into unfamiliar territory, chastising his own vulnerability and questioning the validity of his feelings.

"What's wrong with me?" he muttered under his breath, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. "I shouldn't be feeling like this."

"Are you alright?" Kazuha's voice cut through Scaramouche's thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment.

Scaramouche blinked, momentarily taken aback by the interruption. "Yes, I'm fine," he replied automatically, offering Kazuha a faint smile as he tried to shake off his inner turmoil.

But as his gaze drifted back to Y/N, who was engrossed in conversation with Tartaglia, Scaramouche couldn't help but feel a pang of longing tugging at his heart.

As Scaramouche's gaze lingered on Y/N, lost in thought, Kazuha couldn't help but notice the direction of his attention. A mischievous glint danced in Kazuha's eyes as he observed Scaramouche's subtle yet unmistakable longing.

With a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips, Kazuha couldn't resist the urge to tease. He leaned closer to Scaramouche, his voice barely above a whisper. "Jealous, are we?" he teased, a playful lilt to his words.

Caught off guard by Kazuha's astute observation, Scaramouche's cheeks flushed slightly, a rare moment of vulnerability betraying his usually composed demeanor. "What? No, of course not," he stammered, his attempt at denial ringing hollow even to his own ears.

But Kazuha's knowing smile only widened, his amusement evident. "Don't worry, my friend," he said, his tone light and teasing. "We all have our moments of weakness."

Scaramouche's cheeks flushed slightly at Kazuha's teasing remark, but he quickly regained his composure. "You're mistaken, Kazuha," he replied tersely, his tone clipped as he dismissed the insinuation.

He shifted his gaze away from Y/N, a faint hint of frustration flickering in his eyes. "There's nothing to be jealous about," he added, his voice firm, as if trying to convince himself as much as Kazuha.

“Of course, Scaramouche,” Kazuha replied with a gentle nod, his tone sympathetic. “I understand.”

As Ningguang engaged Y/N in conversation about other matters, Tartaglia seized the opportunity to address the lingering tension in the air with Scaramouche.

“You know,” Tartaglia interjected casually, his gaze flickering towards Scaramouche, “I couldn’t help but notice earlier that you seemed rather… preoccupied.”

Scaramouche tensed imperceptibly at the mention of his name, his expression carefully neutral as he met Tartaglia’s gaze. “Oh?” he replied nonchalantly, though his curiosity was piqued.

Tartaglia leaned back in his seat, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, you were staring at me and Y/N pretty intensely,” he continued, his tone teasing. “Got any idea why?”

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Scaramouche replied coolly, his tone betraying none of the turmoil that churned within him.

Tartaglia raised an eyebrow, his playful grin fading slightly as he regarded Scaramouche. "Really?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism. "Seems like you were pretty focused on them earlier."

Scaramouche's mask of indifference faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he quickly regained his composure. "Believe what you want," he retorted dismissively, his gaze flickering away from Tartaglia's probing stare.

"Do you perhaps… like Y/N?" Tartaglia's inquiry was direct, his tone probing, as he sought to unravel the mystery of Scaramouche's feelings. Tartaglia's question hung in the air, laden with implications, as Scaramouche felt the weight of scrutiny settle upon him once more.

Scaramouche's initial reaction was one of surprise, his mask of indifference slipping for a fraction of a second before he swiftly regained his composure. "No," he replied firmly, his voice tinged with an edge of defensiveness. "Why would you even think that?"

Tartaglia raised an eyebrow, unperturbed by Scaramouche's defensive response. "Just an observation," he replied casually, though his gaze held a hint of mischief. "You seemed pretty focused on them earlier, that's all."

Scaramouche's jaw tightened imperceptibly, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he struggled to maintain his outward composure. "It's nothing," he insisted tersely, his tone leaving no room for further discussion.

As the conversation unfolded, it became apparent that everyone at the table, besides Y/N, had taken notice of the exchange between Tartaglia and Scaramouche. Their curiosity was palpable, evident in the subtle glances and knowing looks that passed between them.

Ningguang observed the interaction with keen interest, her sharp gaze taking in the nuances of the exchange. Beside her, Kazuha wore a thoughtful expression, his gaze drifting between Scaramouche and Y/N as he contemplated the unspoken tension that lingered in the air.

Beidou's expression was one of mild amusement, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips as she watched the unfolding drama with detached interest. And Zhongli, ever observant, regarded the scene with a quiet intensity, his gaze betraying a keen understanding of the dynamics at play.

But amidst the scrutiny of their companions, Y/N remained blissfully unaware, engrossed in conversation with Ningguang, oblivious to the undercurrents that swirled around them.

Sensing the lingering tension from the earlier exchange with Tartaglia, Scaramouche deftly redirected the conversation, turning his attention towards Zhongli.

"So, Zhongli," Scaramouche began, his voice calm and composed, "I've been meaning to ask you about the recent developments in the market. Have you noticed any unusual activity?"

Zhongli, ever the picture of serenity, met Scaramouche's gaze with a knowing smile. "Ah, yes," he replied, his tone measured. "There have indeed been some interesting developments. Let me fill you in on the details."

As Y/N engaged in conversation with Beidou and Kazuha, they seized the opportunity to delve deeper into the matter at hand.

"So, Beidou, Kazuha," Y/N began, their tone casual yet curious, "have either of you noticed any suspicious behavior lately?"

Beidou, ever the seasoned sailor, leaned back in her seat with a thoughtful expression. "Aye, there's been a few rumblings here and there," she replied cryptically, her gaze scanning the room for any eavesdroppers. "Nothing too out of the ordinary, but enough to raise an eyebrow."

Kazuha, always attuned to the subtle nuances of the world around him, nodded in agreement. "Indeed," he added, his tone measured. "There have been whispers of unrest in certain quarters. It may be worth looking into further."

As the various conversations around the table continued, Tartaglia's voice cut through the chatter, his tone lively and inviting. "So, is anyone in the mood for a drink?" he asked, his grin broadening as he looked around at his companions.

A ripple of agreement spread through the group, nods and murmurs of assent signaling their collective readiness to unwind further. Ningguang, ever the gracious host, raised her glass in a gesture of camaraderie. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea," she said with a smile.

Beidou's eyes sparkled with excitement as she chimed in. "Count me in! A good drink always makes for better company."

Kazuha nodded, a serene smile on his face. "I could use a drink as well," he agreed.

Y/N, Scaramouche and Zhongli also expressed their consent, and soon, the table was abuzz with renewed energy. Tartaglia signaled to the server, ordering a round of drinks for the table.

Chapter 23: Drunken Truths

Summary:

The night continued, and a few people had already gotten quite drunk. Some emotions and secrets had been revealed over drunken truths.

After the drinks were ordered, everyone immediately drank up, some more eagerly than others. Beidou downed her drink with a hearty laugh, clearly in her element, while Tartaglia followed suit, his mischievous grin never leaving his face.

Kazuha sipped his drink more slowly, savoring the flavors, while Ningguang raised her glass in a graceful toast before taking a measured sip. Y/N, caught up in the convivial atmosphere, joined in with enthusiasm, their laughter blending with the others’.

Scaramouche, despite his earlier reservations, found himself joining the others in their merriment, though he kept a watchful eye on Y/N and Tartaglia, the memory of their earlier conversation still fresh in his mind. Zhongli, ever composed, enjoyed his drink at a leisurely pace, his calm demeanor a steadying presence amid the lively group.

After some time, it became evident that Beidou, Y/N, and Kazuha had indulged more heavily in their drinks. Beidou's hearty laughter filled the room as she recounted stories of her seafaring adventures, her words slurring slightly but her spirit undiminished.

Kazuha, usually so serene, was now more animated, his cheeks flushed as he shared poetic musings and snippets of his travels. His usual calm had given way to a more unrestrained version of himself, his laughter mingling with Beidou's.

Y/N, caught up in the festive atmosphere, was visibly more relaxed and cheerful, their inhibitions lowered by the alcohol. They leaned closer to the others, their eyes bright as they joined in the lively conversation, their laughter infectious.

Y/N, their inhibitions lowered by the drinks, began to reminisce more deeply. "Scaramouche," they said, a soft smile playing on their lips, "I remember that time we had to sneak through that old warehouse. You were so quick on your feet, leading us through those narrow paths. It was... exhilarating."

Scaramouche looked at them, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his eyes. "Yeah, I remember," he replied, his tone softer than usual.

"But you know," Y/N continued, their voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability, "I really enjoy our time together. You're always so focused and determined. I just... sometimes I wish you weren't so mean to me."

The table grew quieter, the other conversations dimming as they picked up on the more serious turn in Y/N's words. Scaramouche's expression shifted, a flicker of something unspoken passing over his face.

"I..." Scaramouche started, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He glanced around, feeling the eyes of their companions on him, but he couldn't quite form the right response.

Y/N took a deep breath, the alcohol loosening their tongue further. "After my parents died," they began, their voice quieter now, "I fell into a deep depression. It was... a dark time. Every day felt like a struggle just to get out of bed."

The table fell into a hushed silence, the weight of Y/N's words settling over them. Scaramouche's expression shifted, a mix of surprise and concern flashing across his face.

Y/N continued, their gaze distant as they delved into their memories. "Every time you brush off emotions, especially with my uncle, it brings me back to those days. It reminds me of when I felt like I couldn't talk to anyone about what I was going through."

Feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him, Scaramouche struggled to find the right words. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I… I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, his voice softer than usual but tinged with sincerity.

Feeling the weight of the moment, the others at the table exchanged awkward glances, unsure of how to break the tension that lingered in the air. Beidou, ever the captain, cleared her throat and tried to steer the conversation back to lighter topics.

"So," she began, her voice a bit forced but filled with determination, "anyone up for another round of drinks?"

Kazuha and Ningguang nodded in agreement, eager to shift the focus away from the somber atmosphere that had settled over the table. Zhongli, ever composed, simply smiled and raised his glass in assent.

Tartaglia, sensing the need for distraction, turned to Y/N with a playful grin. "Hey, Y/N," he said, his tone light and teasing, "have I ever told you about the time I caught the biggest fish you've ever seen?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in topic, but they smiled nonetheless. "No, you haven't," they replied, their curiosity piqued.

As the conversation between Tartaglia and Y/N continued, Tartaglia’s playful demeanor took on a more earnest tone. He looked at Y/N with a soft smile, his eyes shining with sincerity.

“You know, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this before, but… you’re beautiful.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. A blush crept up their cheeks, but they smiled shyly, touched by Tartaglia’s words.

“Thank you,” they replied, their voice barely above a whisper. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Tartaglia grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just stating the truth,” he said with a wink. “But don’t let it go to your head now.”

Y/N laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating as they shared a moment with Tartaglia.

Feeling a pang of discomfort at Tartaglia's words, Scaramouche excused himself from the table, citing a sudden need to visit the restroom. He rose from his seat with forced nonchalance, his movements a little too brisk as he made his way out of the room.

Once in the relative privacy of the restroom, Scaramouche leaned against the sink, his hands gripping the edges tightly as he tried to steady his racing thoughts. The image of Tartaglia's flirtatious banter with Y/N replayed in his mind, each word a dagger that pierced through his composure.

He couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy that gnawed at him, nor could he understand why it bothered him so much. Was it because he felt protective of their mission with Y/N, or was there something else at play? Scaramouche couldn't be sure.

Taking a deep breath, he splashed some cold water on his face, hoping to clear his mind. But the tension that had settled in his chest refused to dissipate, lingering like a shadow that refused to be dispelled.

With a sigh, Scaramouche straightened up, resolving to put on a brave face and return to the table. Whatever turmoil churned inside him, he knew he couldn't let it show. After all, there were missions to be completed and alliances to maintain. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that his emotions were on the verge of unraveling, threatening to expose vulnerabilities he'd long kept hidden.

As the evening drew to a close and the group began to make plans to leave, Scaramouche couldn't help but notice how Y/N seemed a bit unsteady on their feet, clearly more intoxicated than the rest. His concern grew as he observed them, realizing that they might not be able to get home safely on their own.

Before he could offer his assistance, however, Tartaglia stepped in, a charming grin on his face as he offered to take Y/N home. Scaramouche's jaw clenched involuntarily at the offer, a surge of anger rising within him. He felt a possessive instinct kick in, a desire to protect Y/N from any potential harm.

But before he could stop himself, Scaramouche interjected, his voice firm and determined. "Actually," he said, his tone clipped, "I'll be the one taking Y/N home."

Tartaglia's expression faltered for a moment, surprised by Scaramouche's sudden assertion. But he quickly recovered, flashing a grin that bordered on smugness. "Suit yourself," he replied casually, though there was a hint of challenge in his voice.

Ignoring the tension between them, Scaramouche turned to Y/N, his expression softening. "Come on," he said gently, offering them his arm for support. "Let's get you home."

Y/N, though still a bit dazed from the alcohol, nodded gratefully, leaning into Scaramouche's offered support.

Chapter 24: Midnight Confessions

Summary:

After an exhilarating night out, Scaramouche offered to take Y/N home with him, making sure they were safe. They had a surprisingly nice conversation, for once.

As they made their way out of the restaurant, Scaramouche couldn't help but notice just how intoxicated Y/N truly was. Their steps were unsteady, and their speech was slurred, indicating that they were in no condition to make it home on their own.

Concern gnawed at Scaramouche as he watched Y/N struggle to maintain their balance. He knew he couldn't in good conscience let them wander the streets in such a state. With a decisive nod to himself, he made a spur-of-the-moment decision.

"Change of plans," he announced, his voice firm but gentle. "You're coming home with me tonight."

Y/N blinked, their gaze unfocused as they tried to process Scaramouche's words. "But... your place?" they slurred, confusion evident in their tone.

Scaramouche nodded, offering them a reassuring smile. "Yes, my place. It's not far from here, and it's safer than trying to navigate the streets in your current state."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, clearly torn between protest and gratitude. But the dizziness and exhaustion won out, and they nodded weakly in agreement.

"Okay," they murmured, leaning on Scaramouche for support. "Thank you."

With Y/N leaning heavily on him, Scaramouche guided them towards his home, his mind already racing with plans to ensure they were comfortable and safe for the night. And as they walked together through the quiet streets, Scaramouche couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility settle over him, along with a strange yet undeniable sense of closeness to Y/N.

As they finally arrived at Scaramouche's home, Y/N's condition seemed to worsen. Their face had paled considerably, and they clutched their stomach with a grimace of discomfort.

"Are you okay?" Scaramouche asked, concern etched into his features as he guided them inside.

Y/N shook their head weakly, a sheen of sweat breaking out on their forehead. "I... I think I'm going to be sick," they managed to say, their voice strained.

Scaramouche's brows furrowed with worry. He quickly led them to the bathroom, knowing that they needed to act fast. "Here," he said, his voice gentle yet urgent, "sit down and try to take deep breaths. I'll get you a glass of water."

Y/N nodded weakly, sinking onto the edge of the bathtub with a groan. Scaramouche hurried to fetch a glass of water, his mind racing with concern for their well-being. When he returned, he found Y/N looking even worse than before, their complexion alarmingly pale.

"Here," he said, offering them the glass of water. "Try to sip this slowly. It might help settle your stomach."

Y/N took the glass with trembling hands, taking a few small sips as they fought back the urge to vomit.

After a few agonizing moments, Y/N finally spoke, their voice hoarse. "I... I think I'm going to be sick," they repeated, their words punctuated by a sudden lurch in their stomach.

Scaramouche didn't waste a second. He quickly guided them to the toilet and held back their hair as they emptied the contents of their stomach into the bowl. He rubbed soothing circles on their back, as they rode out the wave of nausea.

After ensuring that Y/N was feeling a bit better, Scaramouche gently helped them to their feet, offering a supportive arm as they made their way to his room. Once there, he motioned for them to sit on the edge of the bed while he retrieved a change of clothes.

"I'll be right back," he said softly, giving Y/N a reassuring smile before disappearing into his closet.

Moments later, Scaramouche returned with a fresh set of clothes—a soft t-shirt and a pair of comfortable sweatpants. He handed them to Y/N with a gentle smile.

"Here you go," he said, his voice warm with concern. "I thought these might be more comfortable for you."

Y/N nodded gratefully, accepting the clothes with a weak smile. "Thank you," they murmured, their voice still faint from earlier.

Scaramouche gave them a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping back to give them some privacy. "Take your time," he said softly. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."

With that, he left the room, giving Y/N the space they needed to change and recuperate.

As Y/N emerged from the room wearing Scaramouche's clothes, a grateful smile graced their lips. "Thanks for letting me borrow these," they said, their tone sincere.

Scaramouche nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No problem," he replied, his voice softer than usual.

"I appreciate it," Y/N added, their gaze lingering on Scaramouche for a moment longer before turning away.

Scaramouche cleared his throat, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "It's nothing," he muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious under Y/N's gaze.

There was a brief pause before Y/N spoke up again, offering to sleep on the couch. Scaramouche shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Nah, I'd feel bad making you sleep out here," he replied, his tone softer than before.

Y/N smiled gratefully, a warmth filling the space between them. "Thanks," they said softly, their eyes meeting Scaramouche's with a hint of appreciation.

As they prepared to part ways, Y/N's voice broke the quietude of the room with a note of sincerity. "Hey, Scaramouche," they began, their tone gentle.

Scaramouche turned to face them, his expression guarded but curious. "Yeah?" he replied, his voice cautious.

"I just wanted to say... I'm sorry about earlier," Y/N continued, their gaze earnest. "I probably made things awkward bringing up my parents like that. I didn't mean to dump all that on you."

Scaramouche's defenses softened at their apology, and he waved off their concerns with a dismissive gesture. "It's fine," he replied, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You were just... venting. It's understandable."

Y/N nodded, a grateful smile touching their lips. "Still, I appreciate you letting me crash here," they said, their tone filled with genuine gratitude.

Scaramouche shrugged, trying to downplay his gesture. "No problem," he muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious under Y/N's gaze.

There was a moment of silence as they both stood there, the weight of their shared experience hanging in the air between them. Finally, Y/N spoke up again, their tone soft but sincere.

"I, uh, just wanted to mention something," Y/N continued, their gaze searching his face. "Tartaglia mentioned earlier... He said something about how you might... like me?"

Scaramouche's eyes widened in shock, a flush creeping up his neck. "What?" he sputtered, caught off guard by the unexpected revelation.

Y/N seemed equally surprised by his reaction, their brows knitting together in confusion. "I mean, I know it sounds weird," they replied, their tone uncertain. "But he mentioned how you stared at me a lot, and... well, I guess I just wanted to ask if there was anything to it?"

Scaramouche felt a surge of panic rising within him, his mind racing to come up with a response. "No, no," he said quickly, shaking his head vehemently. "That's not... I mean, I don't... like you like that."

Y/N's expression softened with understanding. "Oh," they murmured, their tone subdued.

Scaramouche felt a pang of guilt at the sight of their crestfallen expression, and he hastened to clarify. "I mean, not that I don't enjoy your company," he added hastily, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I do. Sometimes. Maybe."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his admission, a small smile tugging at the corners of their lips. "Really?" they asked, their tone teasing.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible. "Don't make a big deal out of it."

As Y/N prepared to leave, a yawn escaped their lips, a telltale sign of their exhaustion. "Well, I think I'm gonna head to bed," they said with a small smile, rubbing their eyes tiredly.

Scaramouche nodded in understanding, offering them a warm smile. "Yeah, you look like you could use some rest," he replied, his tone gentle.

Y/N returned his smile, gratitude shining in their eyes. "Thanks again for everything," they said sincerely, their voice soft.

Scaramouche waved off their thanks with a dismissive gesture. "It's no problem," he muttered, suddenly feeling bashful under their gaze.

With a final nod, Y/N turned to leave, their steps slow and heavy with fatigue. "Good night, Scaramouche," they said softly, their voice carrying through the quiet of the room.

"Good night, Y/N," Scaramouche replied, his voice warm with sincerity.

And as Y/N disappeared from view, Scaramouche couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle over him. Despite the unexpected twists and turns of the evening, he couldn't deny that there was something undeniably comforting about their shared moments together.

Chapter 25: Shadows of Doubt

Summary:

The next morning after a night out, Scaramouche and Y/N settle into a nice breakfast. While Y/N doesn’t remember much, Scaramouche is happy and wants to keep it that way.

Y/N stirred from their slumber, the enticing aroma of food wafting into their room. With a yawn, they stretched and rubbed the sleep from their eyes before rising from the bed. Curious about the source of the delicious smell, they made their way to the kitchen.

As they entered, they were greeted by the sight of Scaramouche expertly moving around the kitchen, flipping something sizzling on the stove with practiced ease. Y/N watched for a moment, intrigued by the sight of him cooking.

"Morning," Y/N greeted with a sleepy smile, their voice still husky with sleep.

Scaramouche turned at the sound of their voice, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Morning," he replied, his tone warm. "Sleep well?"

Y/N nodded, rubbing their eyes again to fully wake up. "Yeah, thanks," they replied, moving closer to get a better look at what he was cooking. "What's for breakfast?"

Scaramouche gestured to the stove with a flourish. "Just whipping up some pancakes," he said casually, though there was a hint of pride in his voice.

Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement at the mention of pancakes. "That sounds amazing," they exclaimed, their stomach rumbling in anticipation.

Y/N settled onto a stool at the kitchen counter, watching Scaramouche expertly flip pancakes on the stove. As the enticing smell of breakfast filled the air, they couldn't help but feel their stomach grumble in anticipation.

"Need any help?" Y/N offered, their voice laced with genuine willingness.

Scaramouche glanced over at them, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Sure, if you want," he replied, gesturing to a bowl of freshly sliced fruits on the counter. "You could start by arranging these fruits on a plate."

Y/N nodded eagerly, sliding off the stool and making their way to the bowl of fruits. They set to work, arranging the colorful slices of strawberries, kiwis, and oranges in an aesthetically pleasing pattern on a plate.

Once the fruits were arranged to their satisfaction, they brought the plate over to the counter and placed it beside the stove. Scaramouche glanced over at their handiwork with a nod of approval.

"Looks good," he remarked, a hint of appreciation in his voice.

Y/N grinned, feeling a sense of pride at the compliment. "Thanks," they replied, their smile widening. "Anything else I can help with?"

Scaramouche shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. "Nah, I've got it from here," he said, flipping another pancake onto a waiting plate.

Scaramouche paused in his cooking, glancing over at Y/N with a hint of concern in his eyes. "Hey, uh, how are you feeling after last night?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Y/N looked up from where they were sitting, a small smile playing at their lips. "I'm fine, really," they replied, their tone reassuring. "Just a bit tired, but nothing a good breakfast won't fix."

Scaramouche nodded, a relieved expression crossing his features. "Good to hear," he said, turning back to tend to the pancakes.

With a final flourish, Scaramouche expertly transferred the last of the pancakes onto a waiting plate. The golden-brown stacks of fluffy goodness were a sight to behold, each one perfectly cooked and topped with a generous drizzle of maple syrup.

"Breakfast is served," Scaramouche announced with a grin, setting the plate down on the kitchen table.

Y/N's eyes lit up at the sight of the delicious spread, their stomach rumbling in anticipation. "Wow, they look amazing," they exclaimed, their mouth watering at the sight and smell of the pancakes.

Scaramouche chuckled at their enthusiasm, pulling out a chair for them to sit. "Dig in," he said, gesturing to the plate. "I hope they taste as good as they look."

Y/N wasted no time in grabbing a fork and eagerly digging into the pancakes. With each bite, they couldn't help but moan in delight at the heavenly combination of fluffy pancakes and sweet maple syrup.

"These are incredible," Y/N exclaimed between bites, their eyes shining with delight.

Scaramouche smiled, a sense of satisfaction washing over him at their reaction. "Glad you like them," he replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee before joining them at the table.

They enjoyed their breakfast together, the morning sun streaming through the windows.

Scaramouche glanced over at Y/N, a curious expression crossing his features. "So, uh, do you remember much from last night?" he asked, his tone casual.

Y/N paused, taking a moment to think before shaking their head. "Not really," they admitted with a sheepish grin. "Most of it's a bit of a blur, to be honest."

Scaramouche nodded thoughtfully, a faint furrow in his brow. "Yeah, probably for the better," he murmured, his tone tinged with a hint of solemnity.

Y/N furrowed their brows in confusion, their curiosity piqued by his cryptic remark. "Why do you say that?" they asked, their voice soft with genuine interest.

Scaramouche hesitated for a moment, as if debating how much to reveal. "Well, let's just say there were a few... interesting moments," he replied vaguely, his gaze drifting to the window as if lost in thought.

Y/N leaned in slightly, their curiosity getting the best of them. "Come on, you can't leave me hanging like that," they said with a playful grin. "What kind of 'interesting moments' are we talking about here?"

Scaramouche chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes as he met Y/N's gaze. "Let's just say there were a few surprises," he replied cryptically, his tone teasing.

Y/N's eyebrows shot up in intrigue, their interest only growing with each vague hint. "Surprises, huh?" they echoed, a mischievous smile playing at their lips. "Now you really have me curious."

Scaramouche grinned in response to Y/N's persistence, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I think it's better if you stay curious," he said with a teasing tone, his voice laced with a hint of mystery.

Y/N chuckled at his response, shaking their head in mock exasperation. "You're impossible," they replied with a playful roll of their eyes.

The clinking of utensils against plates filled the kitchen as Y/N and Scaramouche finished their meal in comfortable silence. Each bite of pancake was savored, the lingering taste of sweetness mingling with the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window.

Y/N broke the comfortable silence with a hesitant question, their curiosity getting the better of them. "Hey, um, did I say anything weird or... anything last night?" they asked, their tone tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Scaramouche glanced up from where he was stacking the empty plates, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Nah, nothing too out of the ordinary," he replied casually, his tone reassuring.

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, a weight lifting from their shoulders at his response. "That's a relief," they said with a sheepish grin. "I wasn't sure how much I remembered."

Scaramouche paused, setting down the last plate and turning to face Y/N with a curious expression. "Why do you ask?" he inquired, his tone gentle but probing.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure how to articulate their thoughts. "I don't know, I guess I just wanted to make sure I didn't embarrass myself or something," they admitted with a sheepish shrug.

Scaramouche chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Trust me, you were fine," he reassured them, a playful glint in his eyes. "Besides, even if you did say something embarrassing, it wouldn't be the end of the world."

Y/N couldn't help but smile at his reassuring words, grateful for his understanding. "Thanks," they replied sincerely, a sense of warmth washing over them. "I guess I'm just a bit paranoid sometimes."

Scaramouche glanced at Y/N, a faint furrow creasing his brow as he considered their question. "Look, it's not a big deal," he replied, his tone casual but guarded. "Just a few things happened that... well, it's not important."

But Y/N wasn't easily deterred, their curiosity getting the better of them. "Come on, Scaramouche, you can't just leave me in the dark like this," they pressed, their tone pleading. "I want to know what happened last night."

Scaramouche hesitated, his gaze drifting to the window as if lost in thought. "It's complicated," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before. "And honestly, it's probably better if you don't know."

Y/N frowned, a sense of frustration bubbling up within them. "But why?" they persisted, their tone tinged with exasperation. "Why won't you just tell me?"

Scaramouche sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he met Y/N's gaze. "Because some things are better left unsaid," he replied cryptically, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Trust me on this."

Y/N opened their mouth to protest, but something in Scaramouche's expression gave them pause. There was a weight to his words, a depth of emotion that they couldn't quite decipher. And as they looked into his eyes, they couldn't help but sense that there was more to last night's events than he was letting on.

With a sigh of resignation, Y/N nodded, conceding defeat for now. "Fine," they said softly, their tone tinged with disappointment.

Scaramouche felt a knot of unease tighten in his stomach as he excused himself to the bathroom. The memory of last night's events weighed heavily on his mind, particularly his inexplicable reaction to Tartaglia's flirtation with Y/N.

As he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, Scaramouche ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his furrowed brow. He couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy that had consumed him, nor could he understand why he had reacted so strongly to Tartaglia's harmless flirtation.

Leaning against the bathroom counter, Scaramouche let out a frustrated sigh, his reflection staring back at him with a mix of confusion and self-doubt. He prided himself on his cool, detached demeanor, but last night had shown him a side of himself that he wasn't comfortable with.

Closing his eyes, Scaramouche took a deep breath, willing himself to push aside his turbulent emotions. He couldn't afford to let his personal feelings cloud his judgment, especially not when there was important work to be done.

But try as he might, the memory of last night's jealousy lingered, a nagging reminder of his own vulnerabilities. And as he splashed cold water on his face, Scaramouche couldn't help but wonder what it was about Y/N that stirred such unexpected emotions within him. With a shake of his head, Scaramouche straightened up, determined to put the past behind him and focus on the task at hand.

As he returned to the kitchen, Scaramouche plastered on a confident smile, hiding the inner turmoil that still churned beneath the surface.

“Shall we get to work then?” Y/N's voice broke through Scaramouche's thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

"Yeah, I think that's probably a good idea," Scaramouche replied, his tone brisk as he tried to shake off the lingering unease from his earlier thoughts. "We've got a lot to do, and we can't afford to waste any more time."

Y/N nodded in agreement, their expression reflecting the same sense of determination. "Let's get to it then," they said, their voice firm as they moved to gather their things.

As they prepared to leave, Scaramouche felt a surge of determination wash over him, pushing aside the doubts and insecurities that had plagued him earlier. Whatever had happened last night, he couldn't let it interfere with their mission.

Chapter 26: Plotting and Planning

Summary:

After Tartaglia provided important information for their case, Y/N and Scaramouche got to work, discovering something very important.

Y/N and Scaramouche arrived at work, the usual morning routine disrupted by an unexpected summons. Ningguang had requested their presence in her office immediately. They exchanged a glance, both curious and slightly apprehensive.

They made their way through the bustling corridors of the office, eventually reaching the grand doors of Ningguang's office. Y/N knocked, and Ningguang's voice beckoned them inside.

As they entered, they were met with the sight of Ningguang seated at her desk, exuding her usual calm authority. Beside her stood Tartaglia, his expression serious, a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor.

"Good morning," Ningguang greeted them, her eyes flicking between Y/N and Scaramouche. "Thank you for coming so promptly. Tartaglia has some important information regarding the Heart of Shadows that you need to hear."

Scaramouche's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Tartaglia. "What’s this about?"

Tartaglia stepped forward, his demeanor all business. "I've been doing some digging, and I've uncovered something significant. The Heart of Shadows is planning a major operation, something that could have widespread consequences."

Y/N frowned, their interest piqued. "What kind of operation?"

Tartaglia took a deep breath. "I don’t have all the details yet, but from what I’ve gathered, they’re planning to disrupt several key infrastructures in the city. If they succeed, it could cause chaos and panic on a massive scale."

Ningguang nodded, her expression grave. "This information is credible. Tartaglia has his sources, and I trust the validity of what he’s shared."

Scaramouche crossed his arms, his skepticism clear. "And why should we trust him? What’s in it for you, Tartaglia?"

Tartaglia met Scaramouche’s gaze evenly. "Look, I know we don’t exactly see eye to eye, but this goes beyond personal grudges. If the Heart of Shadows pulls this off, it’ll be bad for everyone. I want to stop them as much as you do."

Y/N glanced between the two men, sensing the tension. "Alright, so what’s our next move?"

Ningguang leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "I want you two to investigate this lead thoroughly. Use whatever resources you need. We need to stop this operation before it starts."

Scaramouche nodded, his determination evident. "We’ll get right on it."

As they left Ningguang’s office, Y/N turned to Scaramouche. "Do you think we can trust him?"

Scaramouche sighed, his mind racing with possibilities. "I don’t know. But we can’t afford to ignore this. Let’s start by verifying his information and see where it leads us."

Y/N nodded in agreement. "Right. Let’s get to work."

With renewed urgency, they headed back to their office, ready to dive into the investigation. The Heart of Shadows was planning something big, and it was up to them to stop it. The stakes were higher than ever, and they knew there was no room for error.

Back in their office, Y/N and Scaramouche dove into their work, the urgency of the situation driving them forward. Stacks of documents and files covered their desks, each piece of paper a potential clue in the complex puzzle they needed to solve.

"Alright," Scaramouche said, spreading out several documents in front of him. "Let's see if we can find any patterns or leads that might indicate a plan to disrupt Liyue's infrastructure."

Y/N nodded, flipping through a thick folder of intelligence reports. "We need to look for anything out of the ordinary—unusual movements, new players in the scene, unexplained resources being gathered. Anything that stands out."

Hours passed as they meticulously sifted through the information. The room was filled with the sound of rustling papers and the occasional muttered comment as they shared findings. Despite the enormity of the task, their determination remained unshaken.

"Here," Y/N said suddenly, holding up a document. "This report mentions a series of large transactions made by shell companies. The money trails are convoluted, but they all seem to lead back to the same source."

Scaramouche leaned over to examine the paper. "That could be something. If they're funneling money through different channels, it might be to fund their operation."

Y/N nodded. "And look at this—there's a shipment of equipment scheduled to arrive in Liyue Harbor next week. The manifest is vague, but it's a lot of heavy machinery and electronic components."

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information. "If they're planning something big, they'll need equipment. This could be part of their setup."

They continued to cross-reference documents, building a picture of the Heart of Shadows' activities. The pieces were starting to come together, revealing a network of transactions, shipments, and personnel movements that all pointed to a significant operation in the works.

"Look at this," Y/N said, pointing to a map spread out on the table. "These locations—Liyue Harbor, the central power grid, the water supply lines—they're all critical points. If they target these, it could cripple the city."

Scaramouche nodded, his expression grim. "They're planning a coordinated attack. We need to inform Ningguang and start mobilizing forces to protect these areas."

Just as they were about to leave, Y/N found another document. "Wait, there's more. This name keeps popping up in different places—Lianhua. It's mentioned in connection with several key meetings and plans."

"Lianhua..." Scaramouche muttered, thinking back to their earlier findings. "That's the alias we matched with the leader of the Heart of Shadows."

Y/N’s eyes widened. "If we can find Lianhua, we might be able to stop this before it even starts."

Scaramouche nodded, determination hardening his features. "Let's get to Ningguang. We need to move fast."

They gathered their findings and hurried to Ningguang’s office. The city’s safety hung in the balance, and they knew they had no time to waste. The Heart of Shadows' plot was intricate and dangerous, but with each piece of information, they were one step closer to unraveling it and stopping the impending disaster.

Y/N and Scaramouche rushed through the bustling corridors of the office, their minds focused on the critical information they had uncovered. Reaching Ningguang's office, they didn't wait for formalities. Y/N knocked once before pushing the door open.

Ningguang looked up from her desk, her sharp eyes immediately noting the urgency on their faces. "What have you found?"

Scaramouche spread the documents on her desk, pointing to the key points. "The Heart of Shadows is planning a coordinated attack on Liyue's infrastructure. We've identified several critical points they might target, including Liyue Harbor, the central power grid, and the water supply lines."

Y/N nodded, adding, "We've also traced a series of large transactions and equipment shipments scheduled to arrive next week. It's all pointing towards a major operation."

Ningguang's expression grew serious as she absorbed the information. "This is grave news. If they succeed, it could cause unprecedented chaos."

Scaramouche continued, "We also found multiple references to someone named Lianhua. We've matched this alias to the leader of the Heart of Shadows. If we can locate Lianhua, we might be able to stop this at the source."

Ningguang nodded, her mind already working through the implications. "We'll need to mobilize our forces immediately. Protecting these critical points is our top priority."

She stood, moving to a communication device on her desk. "I'll inform the Millelith to secure Liyue Harbor and the power grid. We can't afford any delays."

As Ningguang issued rapid instructions, Scaramouche and Y/N exchanged a determined glance. Their work had paid off, but the real challenge was just beginning. They knew that the Heart of Shadows would not be easily deterred.

Ningguang turned back to them, her expression resolute. "We need to find Lianhua. If we can cut off the head of the snake, we can disrupt their entire operation."

Y/N nodded. "We'll start with the leads we've found and track down every connection."

Scaramouche added, "We need to move fast. Every minute counts."

Ningguang dismissed them with a nod. "Go. And be careful. The Heart of Shadows is dangerous and cunning. I have no doubt they'll try to stop you."

Leaving Ningguang's office, Y/N and Scaramouche felt the weight of their mission settle on their shoulders. The city's safety depended on them, and they were determined to see it through.

As they headed back to their office to gear up for the next phase of their investigation, Y/N glanced at Scaramouche. "We need to be ready for anything."

Scaramouche nodded, his eyes steely with resolve. "Let's get to work."

Chapter 27: A Strange Confrontation

Back in their office, Y/N suggested, "We should dig deeper into Lianhua. There has to be more we can find."

Scaramouche nodded in agreement. "If we can understand his patterns, we might be able to anticipate his next move."

They settled in front of their papers, combing through archives and historical records. Hours passed as they followed every lead, piecing together the puzzle of Lianhua's activities.

Suddenly, Y/N sat up straight, eyes fixed on the screen. "Scaramouche, look at this."

Scaramouche leaned over, eyes scanning the data. "His activities stopped about 14 years ago. And then, out of nowhere, he reappeared recently."

Y/N nodded. "It's almost as if he vanished for a time, but the organization kept running smoothly in his absence."

Scaramouche frowned. "How could the Heart of Shadows continue to operate at the same level without their leader?"

Y/N clicked through a series of files, bringing up financial reports, transaction histories, and internal communications. "There’s a consistency in their operations, a smooth transition without any apparent disruption. It suggests that someone else might have been managing things while Lianhua was gone."

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed in thought. "Or perhaps there’s a second-in-command who is just as influential but prefers to stay in the shadows."

Y/N nodded. "If that's the case, we need to identify this person as well. They could be just as dangerous, if not more so."

They continued their research, focusing on the period when Lianhua was inactive.

However, as the hours ticked by, their progress hit a wall. Despite their best efforts, they couldn’t find any concrete information about a second-in-command. Every promising lead seemed to dissolve into nothingness, leaving them more confused.

“None of this makes sense,” Y/N muttered, frustration evident in their voice. “There should be something—anything—about who was running things in Lianhua’s absence.”

Scaramouche rubbed his temples, equally perplexed. “It’s like the information has been deliberately erased or hidden. Someone went to great lengths to cover their tracks.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in their chair. “We know the organization was operating, but without any hint of who might have been pulling the strings, we’re at a dead end.”

Scaramouche stared at the screen, deep in thought. “What if it’s more than just good cover-ups? What if the person we’re looking for is someone who has the power and resources to manipulate records and hide their presence entirely?”

Y/N’s eyes widened as the implications sank in. “That would mean we’re dealing with someone highly influential, someone who might even be embedded within other powerful circles.”

Scaramouche nodded slowly. “And that makes them even more dangerous. We need to tread carefully.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their discovery—or rather, their lack of discovery—settling in. It was clear that the Heart of Shadows was more intricate and insidious than they had initially thought.

Y/N suggested, "Maybe this second-in-command did something bad or betrayed them, and that's why they were erased."

Scaramouche mulled over Y/N's suggestion, eyes narrowing as the idea took shape. "It’s possible. Betrayal within an organization like the Heart of Shadows would be met with severe consequences. Maybe this second-in-command crossed a line."

Y/N continued, their voice thoughtful. "If they were erased from all records, it could mean they did something unforgivable. Or perhaps they became a threat to Lianhua’s power and had to be eliminated."

Scaramouche leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "We need to find out what happened during those 14 years when Lianhua was inactive. Maybe there are clues in the old case files or reports from that time."

Y/N nodded. "I'll start digging through the old records. Maybe there's something we missed, some mention of a power struggle or a falling out."

As they pored over the files, they stumbled upon a series of incidents that had occurred roughly 14 years ago. A few high-profile members of the Heart of Shadows had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. There were whispers of internal conflict, but nothing concrete.

Y/N pointed to a report. "Look at this. Several key figures went missing around the same time Lianhua disappeared. If this second-in-command was among them, it could explain why they were erased."

Scaramouche nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, Y/N."

After hours of intense research, they finally decided to call it a night. Packing up their files and shutting down their computers, they exchanged tired glances that spoke volumes of their determination.

As Scaramouche entered his home, he noticed something glinting on the table. Picking it up, he realized it was a necklace—a delicate chain with a small pendant. Instantly, he recognized it as Y/N’s. Memories flooded back of the last time they were there, how Y/N had accidentally left it behind.

Scaramouche had debated with himself for what felt like hours before finally mustering the courage to head over to Y/N's house. He had rehearsed the conversation in his mind countless times, trying to imagine every possible scenario and prepare himself for any outcome. Yet, as he stood outside their door, his heart hammered in his chest, and his palms grew clammy with nerves.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and hesitated for a moment before knocking. The sound echoed through the quiet neighborhood, and Scaramouche held his breath, waiting anxiously for a response. When the door swung open and Y/N stood before him, Scaramouche's mind went blank for a moment, his rehearsed lines evaporating into thin air.

Y/N's smile was warm and welcoming, but Scaramouche's gaze was immediately drawn to their attire. Scaramouche stood frozen at the doorstep, his eyes widening in surprise as Y/N greeted him. The sight took him by surprise, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes lingered longer than they should have. He quickly snapped out of his reverie, mentally scolding himself for his lack of control.

"Uh, sorry, I-I wasn't... I mean, I wasn't looking," he stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush as he tried to regain his composure.

Y/N chuckled, shaking their head. "It's alright, Scaramouche. My eyes are up here, you know," they teased lightly, gesturing to their face.

Y/N's teasing remark brought him back to reality, and Scaramouche felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He stumbled over his words, trying to apologize and assure Y/N that he hadn't meant to stare. It was a mortifying moment, one that he wished he could erase from his memory.

Scaramouche's cheeks grew even warmer, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Right, sorry about that. I just came to return this," he said, holding out the necklace.

Y/N smiled, taking the necklace from him. "Thanks. I thought I'd lost it for good."

Handing over the necklace was a relief, a tangible excuse to break the awkward silence that hung in the air. Yet, as he turned to leave, Scaramouche couldn't shake the feeling of regret that gnawed at him. He had let his nerves get the best of him, and now he was left with the unsettling realization that his feelings for Y/N ran deeper than he had dared to admit.

Scaramouche nodded, relieved to have a reason to focus on something other than his embarrassment. "No problem. Sorry for dropping by unannounced."

Y/N waved off his apology. "Don't worry about it. It's nice to see you." They glanced down at their attire and chuckled. "Sorry about the, uh, outfit. Just trying out something new."

Scaramouche nodded, trying to keep his gaze fixed on their face. "It looks good on you," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Y/N's smile widened, and they thanked him. "Well, thanks. I'll see you around then?"

Scaramouche nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment as he turned to leave. "Yeah, see you."

As he walked away, he couldn't shake the image of Y/N's smile from his mind, nor the fluttering feeling in his chest. Maybe it was time to confront the feelings he had been trying to ignore.

Chapter 28: Unveiling The Truth

Summary:

Digging through countless reports and articles gets quite boring… until they find one that is both shocking and unbelievable.

As they delved into their research the next morning, Scaramouche and Y/N focused on significant events that occurred fourteen years ago. They meticulously combed through old reports and archives, searching for any clues that could shed light on the mysteries they were unraveling.

Amidst the sea of documents, Y/N stumbled upon a police report dated from that fateful year. Their eyes widened as they scanned the details, their heart sinking with each passing word. Without a word, they placed the paper down in shock, their mind racing with disbelief.

Scaramouche noticed the sudden change in Y/N's demeanor and reached out to take a closer look. His brows furrowed in confusion as he examined the report, his expression darkening with each passing moment.

"D-didn't your mother die of cancer?" Scaramouche's voice wavered slightly as he spoke, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

Y/N nodded, their hands trembling as they struggled to process the information before them. "That's what I thought too," they murmured, their voice barely above a whisper.

Scaramouche's eyes narrowed in disbelief as he continued to read the report. His breath caught in his throat as he reached the damning conclusion. "According to this... your mother was murdered," he said, his voice barely audible.

Y/N felt as though the ground had dropped out from beneath them, the world spinning wildly around them. The truth they had believed for so many years was suddenly called into question, leaving them reeling with shock and disbelief.

"How... how could this be?" Y/N's voice trembled with emotion as they struggled to comprehend the horrifying revelation.

As tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, they hastily pushed back their chair and fled the room, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. The weight of the revelation pressed down on them like a heavy burden, threatening to suffocate them with its crushing truth.

Scaramouche watched them go, his heart conflicted with what to say and how to feel.

As Y/N returned, their eyes still glistening with unshed tears, Scaramouche looked up from the papers spread out before him. His expression softened at the sight of them.

Before he could utter a word, Y/N spoke, their voice thick with emotion. “I-I’m sorry,” they murmured, their gaze downcast. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It was unprofessional of me.”

Scaramouche’s heart went out to them, his own turmoil momentarily forgotten in the face of their distress. “Hey,” he said gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on their shoulder. “You don’t need to apologise. What we found… it’s a lot to take in. Anyone would react the same way.”

As Y/N looked up at Scaramouche, they couldn't help but be taken aback by his unexpectedly gentle response. In the midst of their turmoil and guilt, they had braced themselves for his wrath, anticipating a reprimand for their emotional outburst.

Yet, instead of the scolding they had feared, they were met with understanding and compassion. Scaramouche's calm demeanor and reassuring words washed over them like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had knotted in their stomach.

"I... I thought you'd be angry," Y/N admitted, their voice barely above a whisper.

Scaramouche shook his head, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. "No, it’s understandable that you’d feel this way," he said earnestly.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips as they looked up at Scaramouche, a glimmer of gratitude shining in their eyes. "Thank you," they said, their voice filled with sincerity.

Scaramouche’s voice was calm but tinged with a steely resolve as he spoke up. “I’ve been doing some digging,” he admitted, his gaze steady as he met Y/N’s eyes. “About who killed your mother.”

Scaramouche's expression was grave as he relayed the unsettling information. "According to the report, your mother's death was linked to the organisation," he explained, his voice tinged with urgency. "Do you know if your parents had any connections to them?"

His question hung in the air, heavy with implication, as Y/N's mind raced with possibilities. The revelation opened up a labyrinth of unanswered questions, each one more daunting than the last.

"I... I had no idea," Y/N admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. "My parents never mentioned anything about any connections to the organization."

Scaramouche's brow furrowed in thought, his gaze focused as he processed the new information. "It's possible they were involved without even realizing it," he mused, his tone laced with concern. "Or maybe they stumbled upon something they shouldn't have."

Y/N nodded, a sense of unease settling over them like a heavy shroud. "It's... it's all so much to take in," they admitted, their voice trembling with emotion.

After a moment of silence, Scaramouche spoke up, his tone thoughtful. "Maybe we should talk to your uncle," he suggested. "He might know more about your parents' involvement with the organization. It's possible he has some answers we're missing."

Y/N nodded slowly, considering his words. "You're right," they agreed. "He might have information that could help us make sense of all this."

Scaramouche's gaze was steady. "Let's pay him a visit. The sooner we get some answers, the sooner we can figure out our next steps."

──★
Y/N and Scaramouche made their way to the care facility where Y/N's uncle had been placed under police supervision. The sterile environment and the soft hum of fluorescent lights did little to calm Y/N's nerves as they approached his room.

Y/N's uncle, a frail man with graying hair and a weary expression, looked up as they entered. "Y/N, Scaramouche," he greeted them, his voice thin and tired. "What brings you here?"

Y/N took a deep breath, glancing at Scaramouche for support before speaking. "Uncle, we need to ask you about Mum and Dad. We found out that Mum's death wasn't from cancer—she was murdered. And it's connected to an organisation. Do you know anything about their involvement?"

Their uncle's face paled, and he shook his head vehemently. "I don't know what you're talking about," he insisted, his voice shaky. "Your parents weren't involved in anything like that. They were good people, Y/N. There's no way they were mixed up with some organisation."

Scaramouche stepped forward, his gaze intense. "Are you sure? Any information you have could help us a lot."

Y/N and Scaramouche exchanged a glance, sensing that Y/N's uncle knew more than he was letting on. Scaramouche, with a determined look, pressed further.

"Are you sure you don't know anything?" Scaramouche asked, his voice firm. "Anything at all? We need to know the truth. For Y/N's sake."

The uncle's eyes darted around the room, a flicker of fear crossing his face. He hesitated before finally sighing, the weight of the truth pressing down on him. "Alright," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "There is something. Your parents... they were investigating the same organisation you are now."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it was safer for you not to know," their uncle admitted. "They wanted to protect you. They believed this organisation was dangerous, and they didn't want you to get involved."

Scaramouche leaned in, his eyes sharp. "What exactly were they investigating? Do you have any details?"

The uncle nodded slowly. "They were looking into the Heart of Shadows. They believed it was tied to several major crimes in Liyue. They found some evidence, but they were always cautious, never revealing too much to anyone, including me. They were afraid of the consequences if they got too close."

Y/N felt a mix of emotions—shock, anger, sadness. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" they asked, their voice trembling.

"I was trying to protect you," their uncle repeated, his eyes filled with regret. "But now I see that you need to know. You deserve to know. I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly am."

Y/N nodded, a newfound determination in their eyes. "Thank you, Uncle. We'll take it from here."

As they left the facility, Y/N's mind raced with questions. But one thing was clear: they were more determined than ever to uncover the truth about the Heart of Shadows and their parents' investigation.