Zhongli set two cups of tea on the table, his idea of softening the blow, you guessed. You didn't touch yours.

"So," you said, wrapping your arms around your knees. "How bad is it?"

He folded his hands in front of him, brow slightly furrowed. "Y/N. As you already know Ei and I have been in communication regarding your mother's situation."

"Right that shes out there?" you asked, voice barely holding together.

Zhongli nodded slowly. "Yes."

You looked away.

Of course.

You should have known peace wouldn't ever  last long. Not when that woman was still alive, dragging her shadow behind her like a storm cloud you couldn't outrun.

"I know shes looking for me," you said quietly. "Ei already told me"

"That's why," Zhongli cut in gently, "Ei wants you to stay with her. Temporarily. She believes it's the safest option for you. Her home is heavily secured, and Scaramouche has already agreed to be your guardian during this period."

"You're serious?" Your voice cracked at the end. "Live there? With him?"

When ei first proposed the idea to you, you didn't think much of it. Brushing it off as something she was just saying... it's by now you should already know Ei doesn't just say things.

Zhongli gave a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "He may be rough around the edges, but he cares. Deeply. He just doesn't know how to show it."

"That makes two of us," you muttered.

"Think of it not as a punishment," he added, "but a precaution. Ei's already prepared a room for you."

"And what about you?" you asked suddenly. "Aren't I your responsibility?"

Zhongli stood, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You will always be my responsibility. But right now, Ei can give you something I can't."

You looked up.

"Security?"

He nodded. "And answers."

The word stuck in your chest.

Answers.

About your mother. About Yoimiya. About your past. Your pulse thrummed painfully beneath your skin.

"I'll think about it," you said at last.

He nodded and left you alone again, the tea cooling slowly beside you.

You didn't drink it.

Instead, you went to your room.

Curled up with Gluestick.

And let the weight of the decision settle.

⸻

That night, you had a dream you hadn't had in years.

A flash.

Smoke.

The smell of burning wood and flesh.

Your mother's voice—sharp and shrill—calling not for you, but for your sister.

You woke up drenched in sweat, gasping, nails digging into your palms.

And before you could think, you were texting one person.

are you awake

Scaramouche: ...now i am

i think i'm gonna stay with you guys

Scaramouche: good, pack light