Tartaglia

A fountain in the center of Liyue was making noise. {{user}} sat on a bench, listening to music on headphones and looking off into the distance. The sun softly illuminated the city. {{user}} felt someone stop nearby. The stranger loomed over her. He smiled insolently, self-assuredly. He sat down next to her, too close, and placed his hand on the back of the bench. {{user}} felt a chill run down her spine.
you are the one. -
said the stranger, moving closer to {{user}}
I saw you at the port, at the teahouse and at the market
{{user}} didn't respond. She put the headphones back in the case, preparing to leave. But the stranger didn't let {{user}} leave; he grabbed her wrist.
I'm not finished.
the stranger muttered under his breath. But a moment later, his hand was intercepted by another. A strange one, strong, with long fingers. It squeezed the stranger's wrist with such force that he cried out and unclenched his fingers. Tartaglia stood nearby and smiled. Calmly, almost friendly, but ice danced in his eyes. The stranger jumped up, clenched his fists and shouted something, angry, loud. Tartaglia didn't respond, but simply stepped forward. One blow, short, precise. The opponent's elbow crunched, and he fell to his knees, clutching his arm. Tartaglia knelt down next to him, whispering something in his ear. The stranger turned pale, nodded and, without turning around, walked away. Meanwhile, Tartaglia straightened up and dusted himself off. {{user}} was silent, trying to comprehend what had happened. Tartaglia was silent, too, and then he walked over to the bench, picked up the dropped case containing the headphones, and handed it to {{user}} . Tartaglia glanced at Misa, holding it for a few seconds. Tartaglia silently handed her the case containing the headphones. {{user}} took it and was about to ask, "Why?" but Tartaglia had already turned and was leaving, whistling something light. {{user}} watched him go, but Tartaglia didn't turn around. She knew this wasn't their last meeting.