You just had to open your mouth.

Your sarcastic and carefree manner would often get you into some trouble around the estates in Inazuma. You were a traveler in your own right, you didn't confine yourself to one city or town or village or even island. You liked to travel, to explore the land you called home. To see it in its most natural glory; free, open, the ability to do whatever you liked, you relished in the freedom.

That didn't mean you didn't need to make stops, no, you liked to travel but you liked to survive long enough to actually do it. Food and clothes cost mora, and mora was only earned from doing work. So you worked, you stopped in whatever towns you came across, whatever shrines you happened to venture into, and offered to work for the duration of your stay.

Oftentimes your work would involve menial tasks such as cooking and cleaning, delivering items and fending off monsters in nearby areas.

You knew your way around various weapons, you could handle your own in a fight and you rarely ever had to rely on your Vision for anything, partly because you never needed to use it and partly to avoid the Vision Hunt Decree wherever you went. You were versed in combat enough to hold your own in a fight, and in doing so allowed yourself to be an asset in various stops in exchange for mora. It was a simple exchange, tiring some days, but you weren't going to complain. Especially not when free food was added into the mix.

However, simple exchanges and free-fare travels seemed to come to a halt as you were about to leave the Grand Narukami Shrine.

It wasn't your first visit to the extravagant and solace shrine. You were recognized the moment you stepped foot and was greeted with open arms by various people, especially the High Priestess, Yae Miko.

You stayed longer than you had anticipated, you earned your fill of mora, food and rest, so you were set to leave. And you would have, hadn't you stopped and opened your mouth.

You were roughly three steps away from officially leaving the shrine's territory before you noticed a group of people looking around the shrubbery, murmuring amongst themselves and seen to be attempting to chop down the trees greeting the territory. It wasn't the time or place to be trimming the trees or hedges, and from the looks of these people they didn't look like locals. Donning dark and thick coats and somewhat sinister masks, you felt it in your gut to do something.

And do something you did, without any hesitation to say the least.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing? You don't have jurisdiction to cut down the forestry here."

The masked faces halted their vandalism and turned to look at you, standing upright and looking around, confused as to why some random individual was confronting them. You counted four people, men, in the area before you, you could take them you thought.

"We have orders from our higher ups to collect necessary resources in the area however way we see fit. Don't get in our way. Best be on your way little girl." One of the masked retorted before signaling to the others to continue cutting. You rolled your eyes, slung your pack over both shoulders and made your way to them with a force in your step. You gripped the man's shoulder who had answered you and pulled him back with enough force to send him stumbling back into the underbrush.

"I don't know who the fuck you people think you are, but this is sacred land belonging to the Grand Narukami Shrine. If you want to collect resources either buy them or get a permit to cut shit down in the designated area. This isn't one of 'em, now leave." You left no room in your voice for hesitation or nervousness, because deep down you were suddenly worried. The air grew thick and you felt goosebumps litter your arms as if being shocked by an eletroculus. You looked around in concern, not realizing the man before you had gotten up and kicked you in your midsection, sending you to the ground.

"You little shit, now you've done pissed me off, and no one pisses off a Fatui and lives to tell about it." The man seethed, towering over you with balled fists.

You were more concerned with the sudden electrifying atmosphere to feel all that threatened by the man towering over you, or the murmuring words of the other masked men. You barely even cared to notice the unsheathed sword one of the masked men had drawn. Something about the surrounding area was off, and that concerned you. So naturally you did what you always did to overcome your concerns and nerves.

You ran your mouth.

"You think a cheap slab of iron like that is going to scare me? As if fools hiding behind stupid masks could do that either." You smirked as you got up, only to be kicked back down. You groaned and huffed, your pack had rough materials and food, surely the food was squished and your rough materials were digging into your bad upon each impact.

"I told you to not get in our way, bitch. Do you have a death-wish? Because I can make your dreams come true." The masked man had stood over you, his legs on either side of your shoulders as he crouched down, a gloved hand reaching out to grip your cheeks. "It'd be a shame if I had to kill you right here, on the very land you're trying so hard to protect."

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head enough to have him release his grip on your face. "You don't have the fucking balls to kill me. You look weak and frail like the seaweed growing on the shores. You're pathe-" You were cut off by a slap to the face, a sharp stinging sensation lingering on your cheeks as your eyes watered lightly, obscuring your vision.

"Bitch sure loves to run her mouth. Boys, what do you say we have a little fun before we report back, huh? Take turns or what?" The masked man sat on his knees, straddling your torso as the others came up, one holding your legs in place, spreading them apart as the other two each grabbed your wrist and pulled them above your head.

The panic now suddenly began to set in. You couldn't utilize your Vision in your current state, you couldn't move or scream for help. You should have just kept walking, you should have ignored these masked men and reported them rather than confront them.

You shut your eyes as you heard the rustling of clothes, a belt coming undone and a zipper being removed. This isn't what you wanted in your life, you'd rather rot away than be used in the ways you were about to be. Your body was being grabbed and prodded through your clothes, your over-shirt being ripped open followed by the men's whistles and smug laughs. This was it, you were going to be humiliated before you were going to be killed.

"What are you fools doing?"

A voice shot through the area, seemingly silencing not just the men but the forestry around you. It was almost youthful but the serious and mature undertones made you think otherwise. Whoever spoke had enough authority to cause the men on top of you to quickly pull themselves together and release you from their hold. The realizing of being free hadn't quite settled in yet as you stared at the sky covered by the tress.

"I told you pathetic maggots to get resources for the camp, not assault some random vagrant. Explain yourselves. Now."

"S-sir, well, she approached us as we were doing what you ordered. She wouldn't leave and posed a threat, so-"

"So you all decide to fucking gangbang the idiot? I should have you demoted and used a punching bag for such crude and heinous atrocities. Filthy sack of shit, what type of organization do you think we are? We have an image to uphold and I will not let some fucking waste of air defile that image. Do I make myself clear?"

You slowly sat up to see the man behind the voice reprimanding the masked men. He was...not as tall as the others. He had a slender figure and skin that of porcelain. With indigo hair that framed his sharp appearance and piercing eyes to match, he exuded authority that couldn't be matched.

His attire was primarily black, it was the large hat that caught your attention. It was circular in shape with what appeared to be four upwards-curving hooks along its circumference with two ornamental accessories on the sides and two sheer veils at the back. The overall attire looked like official Inazuman attire of a general or noble, but you had never seen it resembled anywhere else. That was when it hit you that these were Fatui agents, and the man with the hat was someone in charge, making him Fatui as well. He may have unintentionally saved you from assault but that didn't change the fact that he was an enemy.

"Who the hell are you?" You asked, standing up and holding your pack in one hand while using the other to rub your jaw. He turned to face you, those indigo eyes sharp and indifferent to your current state.

"You're in the presence of the 6th of the Fatui's Eleven Harbingers, the Balladeer, Scaramouche." One of the masked men who held your arm spoke, his voice weary at the introduction.

You raised an eyebrow as you tilted your head. Now wasn't the time to say some smartass comment, you knew that. But...

"Balladeer? You gonna sing me a soft tune or something? Didn't realize bards wore such large hats. Is it because you're compensating for something else? Your height maybe?" You heard the smirks of the other masked men.

Scaramouche chuckled to himself, tilting his head down as he removed his hat, looking it once over a bit as he took a few slow steps in your direction. You saw he had no weapon, no sheath or scabbard, not even a pack or pouch. He looked harmless.

That was until the sheer force his hat slammed across your face, the metal hooks along the edge grazing your skin deep enough to cut through the flesh. It sent you toppling back, gasping for air as you held your now cut-open cheek, feeling the blood pool through your hands and down your arm. That was going to scar.

"You insolent piece of garbage, I should have left you to rot under these pathetic ingrates feet. How dare you disrespect me in front of my men." He gripped the metallic brim of his hat with both hands and shoved it against your stomach roughly, causing you to get pushed back into a tree. You were stuck between the rugged bark and a piercing metallic hat with it's bearer glaring at you like you were filth. He had murder in his eyes, and you knew you were his target.

"Nng... n-no offence Scara...but your m-men seemed to spit all over your n-name when they tried to hng..r-rape me." You coughed out, doing your best to push back against the deathly hat with your bare hands, shivering at the lack of air and the slow pooling of blood sliding down your neck from your cheek.

"And I should have let them." He retorted as he ripped his hat back, watching you crumple to your knees as you gasped for air, coughing and swiping at the blood on your face. One of the upward hooks on the hat had torn through your shirt, you hadn't felt it break skin but the blood rippling down and staining your clothes told you otherwise.

"You disgusting, pathetic travesties of Fatui should be ashamed and put to death."

You looked up at the indigo-haired man and saw him don his hat again, approaching the masked men who were suddenly in formation, their shoulders up and hands behind their backs.

Scaramouche had stopped to peer down at your pack. He kicked the flap and knelt down to dig out a mid-length knife from the squished food and loose materials. Standing back up and flipping the blade in his hands, he hummed softly as he examined the blade. You had it specially made, fox insignia and detailing decorating the shaft of the and handle.

"For a pathetic vagrant as yourself you have taste in fine cutlery." He held the blade up in the light, angling it in a way that allowed him to see your reflection from your spot on the ground behind him.

"It's not m-meant to be cutlery. It's f-for," you coughed twice, "to kill boar and harvest."

"Oh? Is that so? Boar you say? Mm..."

It took you a moment to realize what had just happened.

In a swift motion, Scara had flipped the blade in his hand, holding the handle like a dagger and sliced it though the masked man's neck, a croaking, guttural gasp encompassing the area. From your position, you could see Scara push the rest of the blade further into the masked man's throat.

"Hm, I suppose you're right, it is good for killing pigs." Within a second, he swiped the blade to the side to slice through the man's neck, exposing the tendons and sliced flesh, blood pooling out and decorating his garments and the soil beneath him in a vibrant red. His arm was still extending out from the cut, and in a fluid motion Scara had quickly flipped the way he held the blade to shove it into the eye-socket of the other masked man, repeatedly pulling the blade in and out before shoving it between his eyes and ripping the blade through the mask and down his skull with such ease that you were convinced he had done this before. The last man began to plead with protest but was met with the blade pierced under his chin, the tip exposed in his open mouth.

Scaramouche hummed as he slowly guided the blade to slice down the man's throat, careful to perfectly cut his Adam's apple equally as the blood spurted out, gargling sounds encompassing the area again as the dead man slumped on the ground with the other two. Scara sighed and threw the blade on the ground as he crossed his arms and faced the last masked man, the one who initiated your assault.

"Your men are dead, Nikola. And you have two options. Take the blame and be reduced to a training bag or, and this is my genuine recommendation, take a swan dive off the cliff over there." He canted his head in the direction of the cliff-side that overlooked the sandy beach below. The Grand Narukami Shrine was at the peak of Mt. Yougou and although not on shrine grounds you were still high up enough to where sudden cliffs were something to be weary of.

"S-sir, please I-"

"I personally don't want to hear it. If you decide to become a training dummy you'll meet the same fate as your comrades here, eventually. And until then I'll make sure your life is absolute hell. You'll be tortured. Maybe even assaulted like this weak vagrant was. Maybe I'll kill you in your sleep. You wouldn't want to be killed in your sleep would you? To live in fear that maybe today is the day you'll die? No, you wouldn't, so do us a favor and go take a nice jump into the water."

Scaramouche turned around before the last masked man could beg or reach out. Scara, covered in blood splatters, had turned to you and pulled you up by your shoulder, ignoring your clear discomfort and pain as he dusted you off a bit and looked you once over. He sighed as he turned back to look at the masked man. "Why are you still standing there? Reclaim some dignity and do it yourself before I kill you with my bare hands."

Scara groaned as he rolled his eyes, pushing you forward away from the scene as he led you to wherever. You looked back one last time, looking past indigo eyes to see the masked man approach the cliff-side.

...

It was a long while of walking that you eventually found yourself trailing being Scaramouche. You left everything behind, your pack, your knife, your mora, and maybe a small part of your dignity. Your cheek was numb and dried with blood while your stomach was in a similar manner. You felt dirty, rotten, scared even. He technically saved you, if not for him you'd have been abused and killed but you had to remind yourself that he killed those very men and could have killed you too had he been presented with the chance.

"Wh-where are you leading me?" You croaked out, wrapping your arms around yourself as felt your leg begin to give under your weight. You were tired, hungry, and deftly exhausted.

"To the camp at the southern shore. You'll be dealt with accordingly once we're there. For now, try not to test your luck. I have enough blood on my clothes as it is, last thing I need is your putrid blood added."

"You could have just left me back there. There's no reason for you to-"

Before you could move out of the way and throw your hands up, Scaramouche had slapped his hand across your bare cheek, the stinging sensation prominent, leaving your cheek a little swollen. Cupping your cheek and looking at him as tears threatened your eyes, you bit your tongue as he glared at you with feline-like eyes. Reaching a hand out and gripping your neck, he pulled you forward as he slowly began to crush your windpipe.

"I have all the reason to do whatever it is that I want. Even the gods don't dare to meddle in my affairs so I'll be damned if I allow some lowlife scum such as yourself to tell me what I can and cannot do." As he spoke he dug his nails into your neck. While crushing your throat and slowly breaking skin, you felt your eyesight begin to cloud over as you struggled to breath, doing your best to pry his hand away but too tired to make any true effort.

"You are weak, you have nothing but the ragged clothes on your body. You are my property now, I decide what happens to you and I am moments away from gouging those pretty little eyes out of your sockets and shoving down this little throat of yours. Do. Not. Test. Me."

Pushing you away he set off again, not giving you the chance to catch your breath before following after him. Running away wasn't an option, he'd kill you before you made any distance. Staying behind wasn't an option either, you'd die in the middle of nowhere with no food or map. All you had left was to follow and hope you weren't killed the moment you reached this camp he mentioned