Chapter Text
The blaring alarm set for 5AM awoke Scaramouche from his reoccurring nightmare. It was a constant reenactment of the way he lost the only person that he felt ever truly cared for him.
Rolling out of bed to get ready for work, Scaramouche went over last week's breakup in his head. Quite frankly, he went over the whole relationship too.
How was he so damned naive?
Mona never loved him, she never truly cared. Yet, this realization came far too late for the latter. If he wasn't blindsided by the feeling of being loved, maybe he would've realized it sooner. This, of course, was only a self-degrading thought Scaramouche had. He always had a tendency of being too harsh on himself.
Regardless of his bad habits, the disaster of a relationship wasn't his fault. He simply loved a woman who loved someone else.
Kaedehara Kazuha
That was the name of the man whom Mona left him for. She chased Kazuha, as many of the students at their college did. According to Mona, Kazuha was the most gorgeous man to walk the fact of the earth. She raved endlessly about him as if Scaramouche was nothing but another fan of his.
Now, Scaramouche had never seen the infamous poet himself, but with the way his girlfriend spoke about him, they might as well have been best friends. At one point, Scaramouche was certain that he knew Kazuha better than he even knew himself. Mona never shut up about him. It was truly aggravating to date someone who clearly prefered someone else.
There were plenty of times in which Scaramouche asked about breaking up. It was ruining him to be in such a one sided relationship. Yet, whenever it was brought up, Mona would break into a series of apologies, saying she'd stop and be better. Of course, nothing ever changed. Scaramouche never really had the heart to straightup leave.
At least, that was the case, until last week. Mona came back to their shared apartment —which was in Scaramouche's name— incredibly happy. Upon seeing her boyfriend, her happiness was masked by a sympathetic look.
Scaramouche gritted his teeth as he buttoned up his shirt. He continued readying himself for work while cringing at the memory of what his lover had to say that day. First, it was some bullshit sob story about how sorry she was, then she dropped the reasoning.
Mona had cheated on him with Kazuha.
She didn't give details, she didn't even say what truly happened. Well, maybe she did. Truthfully, Scaramouche stopped listening once he heard Kazuha's name. It was like time stopped. Before his mind caught up to him, Mona was kicked out.
The cold breeze hit Scaramouche's jacket, bringing him back to present time. He let the wind style his hair as he thought about the dreaded day ahead. All Scaramouche wanted to do nothing but stay home and dwell in his emotions. He wanted to let the familiar feeling of betrayal consume him. Yet, here he is, now walking to work.
An empty laugh mixed with the wind as Scaramouche fully realized where he was. Apparently, he managed to get fully ready for work whilst zoned out, thinking of the breakup. This came as no surprise for him, though, as it felt like an everyday occurrence.
Once Scaramouche made it to the café he worked at, the sudden urge to call in sick came to mind. While unlocking the door, he couldn't shake the feeling of absolute dread. The customer service act really never bothered him, so surely there was more to come.
Flicking the lights on, Scaramouche mentally listed all of the bad things that could possibly happen during the shift. He could have customers yelling, or the creme could expire, or maybe, if he's really unlucky, Mona will come in for a coffee.
This was a new job, after all. Scaramouche didn't exactly have an idea on who regular customers were. He had no idea who he would or wouldn't see during work hours. Though, he didn't recall Mona ever mentioning a café. That may or may not have contributed to where Scaramouche put resumes in.
—
1 hour into his shift, and Scaramouche would rather be anywhere but making coffee after coffee. The customers (and his coworkers, honestly) were just too cheery for such an early hour in the morning, it was exhausting to mirror.
Scaramouche sighed quietly as his coworker, Ajax, took another order. As Scaramouche poured the boiling water, he nearly questioned the order. It was a typical hot chocolate order —which was still an unusual order— but with an absurd amount of creme. Whoever ordered it might as well have requested for it to be microwaved after making. The creme would surely make it too cold. Regardless, Scaramouche did his job.
After putting the lid on, Scaramouche read the name on the order. He opened his mouth to speak and call for the customer he was serving, but his voice vanished. For a brief moment, Scaramouche was choked up by heartbreak. Anger quickly replaced the ache in his chest as he walked over to the serving counter.
"Kazuha."
His voice was empty and bitter, as if Kazuha's name was a wretched curse. The latter perked up from his phone, walking over as he took the drink with a smile. Once again, Scaramouche was rendered frozen. It was no longer a mystery of why everyone loved Kazuha. He was truly beautiful.
"Thank you."
Even his voice was beautiful. It was soft, but sweet as honey. This only made Scaramouche angrier.
"Fuck you. You're a piece of shit, you know."
Scaramouche was sharp, but quiet with his voice. He made sure no other customers would hear him. Kazuha stood in shock for a brief moment, he seemed very confused before letting out a singular, soft laugh.
"Ah, that isn't very customer friendly of you."
"I hope you rot."
"I believe you're paid to just say 'you're welcome'."
Kazuha's eyes were tired and calm, but the half smile on his face was nothing but mischievous. It was as if he was amused by Scaramouche's harsh attitude. The latter felt a plethora of insults gather on his tongue, but as he went to speak, Kazuha handed him a $5 bill. Scaramouche froze, taking the money as his eyebrows furrowed.
"You already paid, dumbass."
"It's a tip. It's for you."
Now, Scaramouche was truly dumbfounded.
"Why?"
"Well, for once, it seems I've finally gotten the same treatment that's given to my peers. Thanks again."
Kazuha walked away before Scaramouche could reply, which only left the other even more confused. Kazuha was so well-spoken and kind, even whilst being publically insulted. His last sentence was the most confusing, though. Did Kazuha dislike how popular he was? How could someone be so ignorant? Most people would kill to be as well-loved as him.
Scaramouche pocketed the money as he continued his work. For whatever godforsaken reason, he couldn't rid his mind of the man he just met. He can't believe how ignorant he is. Why did he act so nicely to Scaramouche after stealing his girlfriend? Was he doing it to be petty? What did he have against him anyway?
Nothing made sense, but Scaramouche hoped that their next interaction was outside of his workplace.
So that he wouldn't be fired for throwing a punch or two.
—
The whole morning was ruined for Scaramouche after Kazuha left the coffee shop. It wasn't that anything else happened, but his mind was painfully stuck on that infuriating interaction. Thankfully, he only had one afternoon lecture.
Whilst walking through the university building, Scaramouche couldn't help but overhear the chatter of everyone around him. They were all talking about some party that was being held at the end of the month. Though he didn't do parties, Scaramouche couldn't deny that the distant voices were rather entertaining to listen to. Half of them were girls talking about what they would wear and who they'd go with. The other half were boys, talking about who they hoped would show up. Though, amongst both halves, was that dreaded name again.
Of course, Kazuha wasn't the only person they were talking about, but he was the only one that bothered Scaramouche to hear about. He hated that name, and now he hated everyone who spoke it too. Making note of how long he had before the lecture, the balladeer walked away out of frustration. Perhaps he could find a quiet place to relax without hearing about he who shall not be named.
The said Kazuha sat on a bench outside of his next lecture hall. He had his phone out, scrolling through old photos and messages. A calm expression covered his face, perfectly masking the inner weight of heartbreak in his chest. Occasionally, people would walk by and say hello. None of which Kazuha knew, but they knew him.
Scaramouche sighed, walking around to find the quiet place he had in mind. Usually, if inside is extremely loud, outside is quiet, and vice versa. This thought made Scaramouche hum, turning to head outside. He passed a vending machine as he went, causing him to pause.
He wanted a drink, or maybe even a snack too, but he never carried change. Pursing his lips, Scaramouche continued his walking, only pausing when he remembered this morning.
Screw Kazuha, and screw his money, but thank god at the same time.
It was the perfect amount for both things Scaramouche wanted. He figured it was just sheer luck that Kazuha tipped him that morning. Maybe it was even fate knowing that he would need the small amount of money later that day. Walking down the halls, Scaramouche closed his eyes, relishing in the newfound silence as he stepped outside. He wasn't a very nature-ish person, but he enjoyed outdoor walks quite a bit.
Usually, anyway. He was quite certain that he would have enjoyed today's walk too, if it wasn't for who was in the near distance. Scaramouche was truly haunted by Kazuha's mere existence. Groaning with annoyance, he stormed over to the quiet one on bench. Kazuha perked up, about to greet the other before the collar of his shirt was grasped. Scaramouche dragged him to his feet, nearly laughing at the way Kazuha stumbled in his hold.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What?!"
"Don't play stupid! Do you enjoy ruining relationships?"
Kazuha raised his hands up in surrender, yet he still seemed calm. Confusion swarmed inside his ruby eyes. Scaramouche gritted his teeth at the act of unacknowledgement. He let go of Kazuha, delivering a harsh punch to the other as he did so.
Kazuha stumbled, heaving out as his hands hit the ground. He felt the pavement scrape his palms, likely bleeding and matching the metalic taste on his tongue. Kazuha figured this was from his lip piercings tearing from the hit.
He didn't dare move, considering he had never fought before. He didn't even know the basics, and Scaramouche could really pack a punch. The latter stared, fist clenched as he waited for Kazuha to bounce back. When there was no defense made, Scaramouche furrowed his eyebrows. He nudged his foot into Kazuha's side experimentally, then kicked him. The other coughed, shielding his face as he gasped for air.
"M-may I ask.. what this is about?"
Always so well-spoken. How irritating.
"You stole her from me!"
"Who?"
"Mona!!"
".. Who?"
Scaramouche felt his veins ignite with anger once more, he nearly growled under his breath. Kazuha raised his head, glancing up at Scaramouche, which made the latter freeze.
Kazuha was genuinely confused.
"You.. you don't know who I'm talking about? Do you whore around that much?"
Kazuha shook his head softly, wheezing out a desperate breath as he rolled onto his back. Scaramouche nearly felt remorse for his actions. His bloody knuckles contrasted Kazuha's gaze of genuine confusion.
"You slept with my girlfriend last week. Didn't you?"
"No."
"Then why the fuck did she say you did? Huh?"
"I'm completely lost..."
Finally catching his breath, Kazuha stood up. He dusted himself off whilst holding an arm across his stomach.
"If you're talking about the girl with the long brown hair, she kissed me, yes. Though, I don't know her, and I didn't accept it."
Scaramouche glared. At first, he was certain Kazuha was being dishonest, yet his gentle voice and conflicted gaze was nothing but honest to the core.
"That isn't what I heard..."
He could only whisper. He wouldn't dare admit he's wrong, nor would he apologize.
Kazuha brought his hand to his own lips, wiping the slight blood off. Scaramouche only looked away, not wanting to feel bad for what happened.
"Well, if I can clear anything up, I will."
"You guys really didn't do anything?"
"I'm uninterested in relationships right now, I assure you."
"I-"
Scaramouche was at a loss for words. He needed to say something. He certainly didn't want to apologize, but that felt like the only thing to say. Before he could muster up a response, the balladeer was cut off.
"Kazuha!! What the hell happened to you?"
Scaramouch spun around at the incoming company. It was his dear friend, Heizou. Confused, Scaramouche stepped back. He wasn't aware that Heizou knew Kazuha personally. The bloodied one stepped forwards, flashing that same gentle smile as always.
"Nothing, just my own clumsiness."
"You two know eachother?"
Kazuha glanced at Scaramouche, who Heizou was clearly asking about.
"Briefly. He makes an amazing hot chocolate."
Scaramouche shook his head, earning a laugh from their mutual friend.
"I wouldn't have expected you guys to get along..."
"We don't."
Heizou observed the way Kazuha nearly reacted to that comment. He was still confused about the issue on Scaramouche's end, and he isn't exactly used to being so openly hated.
"Well-"
"My next lecture starts soon, I'm gonna get going. I'll see yous around."
Scaramouche only nodded, dismissing Kazuha without a direct reply. Heizou sighed, giving Kazuha a fist bump. As the poet walked away, Heizou grabbed Scaramouche's arm, inspecting his hand.
"Did you fucking punch him?"
"Yeah, I did."
"Why?"
"A misunderstanding with Mona."
"Letting her run your life still? And here I thought you were interested in him."
"Interested-?!"
"Mhm?"
"No. I hate Kazuha. I despise him."
A humorous smirk sprawled across Heizou's face. The man was a natural flirt, and could spot chemistry from a mile away. Quite frankly, Kazuha seemed to actually bat an eye at Scaramouche too. Heizou knew the whole story between Kazuha and Tomo. He knew that the poet didn't want a new relationship. However, he also knew the look in Kazuha's eyes whenever he glanced at the balladeer.
"Don't give me that look."
"What look?"
"The stupid look you give when you're gonna play matchmaker."
"Would it be such a crime?"
"Yes. Yes it would."