*: ･ﾟScaramouche(2) 🍁& 🌌*: ･ﾟ[KADZUSCARA POV]

1. When Kazuha leaves without saying goodbye.
   He pretends not to care, but a silent, wordless departure is the only thing that throws him off balance. It reminds him that he can't control his feelings.

2. When someone else talks too closely to Kazuha.
   He's not jealous—at least, that's what he tells himself. But every time someone else laughs around Kazuha, his lips press together even tighter than usual.

3. Excessive softness.
   He's afraid that one day Kazuha will show him the same kindness he shows everyone else. He wants to be an exception, not part of the crowd, for whom Kazuha simply sympathizes.

4. When Kazuha sees his weakness.
   He hates it when Kazuha notices the pain hidden behind his irritation. Every time Kazuha looks at him with understanding, Scaramuccia turns away—it hurts, but also warms him.

5. His own affection.
   His feelings for Kazuha frighten him. He dislikes how often he thinks of him, how the words "poet" no longer sound mocking, but almost tender. He's angry at himself for this—and at Kazuha, too.

6. The silence without him.
   When Kazuha isn't around, the silence becomes empty again. Everything seems too loud—even the tap of a pen on a table or the rustle of pages. He misses the presence that filled the air with meaning.

1. Silence—especially the kind Kazuha brings.
   Scaramouche loves silence, but not just any silence. Only with Kazuha does it become not emptiness, but peace. He likes it when Kazuha simply sits next to him, not saying anything unnecessary, writing in a notebook, the wind gently rustling his hair. Such silence is rare and safe for Scaramouche.

2. Arguments with Kazuha.
   He loves arguing—especially with him. Not because he wants to win, but because only Kazuha can respond calmly, without malice, without giving in to provocation. These arguments become a kind of game for him—a way to stay close and test boundaries.

3. Moments when Kazuha loses his composure.
   Rare, but infinitely precious. When the calm Kazuha gets angry for even a second or speaks with fervor, Scaramouche can't look away. He's intrigued by this contrast—a gentle man with a strength within.

4. Subtle Touches.
   While Scaramuccia dislikes being touched, Kazuha's touch is different. When their hands accidentally touch, he seems to lose his balance. He pretends not to care, but inside, everything pulsates.

5. Kazuha's Haiku.
   He laughs at them, calling them "poetic nonsense," but secretly rereads them whenever he stumbles across them in his notebook. Sometimes he even memorizes them, though he'd never admit it.

6. Autumn.
   Before meeting Kazuha, he loved the rain and cold, but now he's come to love autumn—the time when the wind carries the red leaves. He thinks this season is like Kazuha: quiet, yet full of life.

7. Kazuha's Voice.
   He'd never admit it, but Kazuha's voice is like a soft wind to him, calming and irritating at the same time. Sometimes he catches himself deliberately starting arguments just to hear Kazuha respond.

Scaramouche is a difficult person to understand and even more difficult to get close to. At university, he's known as a cold genius: irritatingly smart, ambitious, caustic, and absolutely intolerant of failure. His mind is as sharp as a blade—he notices others' mistakes at a glance and mercilessly points them out. There's always venom in his words, and a challenge in his smile. He's used to keeping everyone at a distance and never letting anyone see what's inside him.

His pride is like armor. He builds walls of it, hiding behind them everything that could make him vulnerable: the fear of loneliness, insecurity, the pain of never being truly accepted. He's demonstratively indifferent and sarcastic, but in reality, he's acutely aware of every attitude toward himself.

When Kazuha appears in his life—calm, gentle, and sincere—Scaramouche feels his carefully crafted balance crumble. Kazuha's calm irritates him because there's no falsehood in it. His kindness perplexes Scaramouche—after all, he's accustomed to hostility, not acceptance.

On the surface, he does everything to maintain his enemy image: he throws out barbed remarks, argues in every class, and cleverly hides his curiosity behind mockery. But inside, he's overcome with conflict—he can't look away, can't help but listen to Kazuha speak, can't help but notice the little things: the way he tucks a strand of hair, the way he looks out the window during the rain, the way he smiles as if the wind touches his soul.

Scaramouche secretly admires him, but he turns this admiration into sarcasm, because admitting his feelings to himself would be a sign of weakness. And weakness is what he fears most. That's why his love manifests itself in irritation, in angry words and a sharp gaze, in a stubborn desire to argue with those he truly wants to understand.

He is a storm, and Kazuha is a quiet wind that doesn't fade even under the onslaught of thunder. And somewhere deep down, Scaramouche understands this..

but he's not yet ready to give in—not to the world, not to himself, not to the one he loves.