SYNOPSIS: Kazuha, a well-known tailor in Inazuma, had a spouse. It's only a shame that his spouse is known for their 'infidelity' in his eyes. [ songfic ]
TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking, minor and major character death/s, emotional manipulation in a way, gore, violence, fire/arson, sewing... questionable fabric, unreliable narrator, shifting POVs, dead dove: do not eat, dollification, delusional thinking, Kazuha progressively loses it till the end, beheading, oh God this fic and tws are long Im so sorry―
NOTE: During the fic, it is recommended to listen to "The Tailor of Enbizaka". It will make sense when you read through this fic :)
(also, I apologize if this took a while for me to write. I got busy and writer's block hit me :( anyways, second work and its the best boy! Though, I hope you all don't blame me for fucking him up. Also also!! This is very much a long, LONG fic— like 2k+ long, so 🫡 gl soldier, I'll see if I don't need to make this to a 2 part series)
(update: this fic took 6k words, good luck y'all, this one is a WILD ride)
In Inazuma, there is a tale that is shared by many about a crimson clad man and his lover.
The others never settled on what he looked during the day before his death, nor were they sure what his prior job was before he became a tailor. However, they always complimented him for his looks and his skill, knowing that whatever he used as his own special fabric would be tailored and taken care of well.
Even with one full of holes and tears, he is gifted with the ability to patch them up till it was brand new. In the village he lived in, he was regarded for having such a talent, and he had his shop open and full of visitors.
However, the only thing that made people question him was his behavior. Despite how mild-manner the tailor was, he often comments on how his beloved darling refused to come home and continues to cheat on him.
Many those that still lived during the time said the crimson-eyed tailor acted delusional, but just how far can those delusions go?
No one knows but the man himself... And the one who persecuted him, too.
It was that year since I've seen my beloved after the accident.
A year that, when I saw them, I've longed to see them and speak to them about our time together as a married couple.
To begin with, I am Kaedehara Kazuha, or― as the townsfolk here call me, the 'Crimson-Eyed Tailor'. Although I am highly regarded for my craftsmanship, many told me that I am odd for my adoration for my beloved maple.
Why is it that odd? I thought all married couples do this, even if some think that it feels off.
Besides that, however, my darling isn't quite aware of my... Endeavors. More specifically, their streak of getting out for hours, perhaps days and weeks, and not even coming around to speak to me.
I am bound to them by an oath when we were married: we both drank sake together under that faithful light of the moon, with only nature watching over us. However, it would seem as if they have forgotten that, and ended up cheating on me in broad daylight.
Like they had no such shame.
Alas, I am but their husband, and I can't simply get mad at my beloved spouse. I know they did no wrong, for they sometimes meet with others as an act of being 'friendly'.
So while I focused on fixing the kimono, I've began to hear something that had been passed around in the village.
Something related to my darling's little ventures.
"I have spoken to [Name] about the matters in their marriage recently," one of the ladies spoke, her voice not so soft enough to conceal who she was speaking about as I fixed the fabric in my hands.
"And from what they told me, they're getting their kimono fixed for when their lover returns home!"
I simply continued on sewing, but the lady's next words had me flinch.
"Ah, they've been married for years, aren't they? And it seems they even have their shiromuku ever since their marriage to sir Kamisato Ayato. How romantic!"
...
The blood continues to spill on my finger, with the needle that I used pricking it when I've lost focus and got too careless.
How uncouth.
From the tale shared by the folks of Narukami Island, they talked about the crimson-eyed tailor's marriage with his supposed 'spouse': an immigrant of sorts from Fontaine, traversing to Inazuma to meet with their lover.
Their relationship together is strange. From the accounts of those with prying eyes, they said that he was the only one putting an effort to their relationship, and they wished to take it slow.
However, there are those that disagreed, saying that it had been the other way around— and it was he who wished for them to slow down.
No one can decide what the tailor had done, for they can't even tell if his desires were to rush or to slow down. But what can be confirmed is one thing everyone kept saying.
He doesn't like his trust being broken.
It had been days after hearing what I did.
I hadn't seen my dearest beloved in those days, and the day I saw them had been when the heir of the Kamisato clan had returned.
I had been busy as ever in sewing till I realized that I'm running out of thread. I don't have any spares, and I'm well aware that there are a few shops that sell supplies for sewing.
And so, on a lazy afternoon, I've got out of my shop in the hopes that I can catch the store to buy the supplies I needed.
The soft sound of wood hitting the pavement greeted my ears, alongside hushed murmuring and discussing with the commonfolk. I greeted a few that noticed me in passing, but they were swift to return to the people they were speaking to prior.
It was a mundane thing, really. But it was the type that felt familiar.
Turning a few corners, I managed to locate the shop I was looking for. Walking up the stairs, I waved at the lady taking care of the store—
—not before my ears perked up at the soft chattering in the distance.
My eyes trailed over to the source, and then, I see them.
My beloved maple.
I saw that they were conversing with the heir of the Kamisato clan, his hand reaching over to hand them a small gift: a small box, with the ribbon being the color of purple. I spot the gleam of gold on top of the ribbon, which eludes me to think that it is the insigna of the clan crested in gold.
How tacky.
I had to hold back the urge to stop them as their conversation was hard to discern, my focus back on the woman running the shop with the supplies I require.
"Hello, madame," I greeted, making the woman smile and nod in greeting as well. "Do you need fabric again, Kaedehara?"
I chuckled, but it was only to mask the bits of instability in my voice.
"Oh, not fabric, madame. I simply desire thread. I have ran out of red and black, and I didn't want to delay the commission I had from monsieur Lyney. Do you have any right now?"
"Red and black thread, hm? I can check at the back. Please give me a moment to look."
With a bow, the seamstress turned around to leave. With that, I let go of the breath I held and turned my gaze back to the bridge, just a few ways away from where my beloved sunset was at.
Watching the two figures, I couldn't help but simply stared at the attire that the heir wore.
Montsuki Haori Hakama: that usually means black or gray. I've known that colored kimonos were not worn with this in mind, and he certainly didn't wore anything that would be too straining.
Still, that shade of black is made of high quality. I'm not surprised if he wore it so rarely, as though to preserve the detail and its intricate work from his very own seamstress.
...
I wonder if I can take it?
Watching the two descend from the bridge, my eyes wandered back to the lady as she returned with the spools of thread, all varying in degrees of color and quality.
"Here you are, Kaedehara! These are the best I can find that fit the colors you asked for."
My eyes twinkled as I took the spools to my hands, my fingers turning and nudging the thread to see just how strong it is.
Interesting. Good quality, too... Maybe I can use this to finish that outfit I've been saving for a while.
"Thank you, madame," I thanked her, making her laugh. "Oh, it's not a problem, Kaedehara! You've done so much for this little town of ours, this is but a simple thing to repay for your efforts!"
With a nod, I paid the seamstress and turned back down to descend from the bustling upper part of the town, the sight of what happened in the bridge a bit further away bothering me from within.
No matter, Kazuha, I mused, carrying the items I required as I felt myself walk back home. Even if you want to get rid of him, it will be much too complicated. You simply need to be patient and wait till the opportunity comes.
...
Although, whoever made his clothes... I wonder if I can speak to them to inquire about their techniques.
The first case that started this was a cold one.
One that is related to a person no one knew so highly about, be it by their background, appearance, and even their name. All they were known for is being the 'tailor' for one of the clans.
There had been a lack of evidence and information about this due to how many tailors had been requested all across Inazuma at the time. It was understandable that people chalked up to them being missing as nothing more than an unfortunate case, not one worthy of being dug into.
Others had suspected that it had been associated with something else, that something (or someone) had done this deliberately. There was no evidence to this, but their claims were loud as they were bold, making it difficult to ascertain its authenticity.
However, the masses have all agreed that this was a normal occurrence. It was not one worth noting, because there had been a lot more that spoke of the same tale, always eluding to their fate being that they were murdered.
It was, unfortunately, the 'norm' of the village in the legend. A norm that, if the people of Inazuma heard it today, would have turned their heads in disgust for how abhorrent it sounds.
Still, many remained curious of the biggest what if that seem to echo in their mind.
Was the tailor associated with his sins?
The Kamisato clan has had it's ups and downs, and it isn't strange to see that they were seeking out talented tailors and workers to work under them.
What was surprising (to everyone), however, was that the head of the clan hired me to work as the Kamisato Clan's personal tailor.
The reasoning behind it was quite simple, especially with what the heir spoke to me when he and I met in the morning when I was to be summoned in the estate— due to his personal tailor (a family friend, he said) going missing for days, they were unable to track down his whereabouts and presumed that he has gone missing.
I was only hired as a "replacement" for the clan's special tailor till then, and he made it extremely clear that there was nothing else to it. Nothing that would spell the fact that I will permanently stay in that position.
Of course, to many, this may sound as an odd deal. There are so many tailors such as myself that would die to be consulted on, to work as the head of the clan's seamstress and work for their outfits. And perhaps, in their naivety, they may consider it as their efforts finally paying off in some way.
However, I have been in a clan myself before. This is nothing more if not a business deal.
A deal between one rising clan, and one whose surname has lost it's widely known heritage.
This only benefits the Kamisato Clan in the effort to save face. To save face of the potential backlash they'll deal with should any information of the missing clan's tailor be brought to light to everyone who remain blissfully ignorant of the innerworkings of the clan.
I would normally deny this kind of offer, mostly because there is no benefit for me to join and work for them. However, times have changed, and I simply reconsidered denying Kamisato Ayato's offer.
... There is a few benefits to me joining. It may be minimal, but it is better than scrounging around in the dark.
And so, I agreed to the offer.
The arrangements set for me to move was quite swift. I'm aware that that he is a man of his word, so it was quite easy for us to prepare my living arrangements and move to the estate.
With the supplies I get from the clan, it's been easy to stay put and gather information to the person I'm targeting.
... That was, until that day came.
I remember it clearly: it was the ends of fall, where the maple leaves fell more and more around the estate's grounds. This usually signified the coming of winter, so I usually savor the season by having time off to admire the scenery.
And in one of my walks, I had travelled from outside of the estate to see if things have changed.
Which, to my luck, I've encountered my darling beloved.
But just like last time, they were not alone.
In the journey of my wandering, I have seen them speak to the sibling of the older heir, Kamisato Ayaka, as they sit on the table outside of the Komore Teahouse.
From how far I am to the entrance of the teahouse, it gives me enough space to watch them interact like friends. The way that the Himegimi raised her fan to cover her face, perhaps from her eyes crinkling in amusement from what they told her...
... It was intriguing. Very intriguing.
So much so that I've felt the claws of envy grip in my chest, clutching its metal nails and making punctures on my already bleeding heart.
What a nuisance. Must you hurt me like this, darling?
I can hardly remember what happened after that. After all, my focus had been set on the two speaking to each other like they were simply companions, unknowing of what fate may bring upon them.
...
"Oh? Kazuha! I didn't notice you came to the Teahouse as well!"
My attention was swiftly pulled away from the sight of my dearest gem, and it landed on the familiar sight of olive eyes. From the appearance alone, many wouldn't think that an immigrant of Mondstadt would be a fixer.
Not even I would be able to see it happen.
However, this man had the skills to prove of his worth— after all, being Inazuma's 'fixer', he's often the go-to man to fix any and every problem that the Narukami Island and others may face.
Which makes him a glass canon— one that is volatile and unpredictable, even under the guise of a friendly face.
That is what Thoma is.
But this "glass cannon" has his weakness, and I know how to use it to my advantage.
Letting a smile slip to my lips, I chuckled, raising my hand to cover my mouth. "Well, I've been foretold by others about Komore Teahouse and it's history. I've been meaning to visit it, but I'm so busy fixing kimonos and making them to have time to spare."
A white lie, but then again, there are many of those that have been foretold in the waking of this world.
What does adding one do at this point? I'm already damned by the heavens the day I've seen the 'truth' of this fate of mine.
Just one lie wouldn't hurt, right?
"Haha, I can't blame you," the taller blonde seem to answer my query with his own, albeit he did seem to look more like he was at ease. Still, I needed to be weary; he can change sides if he so much as sensed that something is wrong.
"After all, with what the missing tailor in the clan circulating around the others in the estate, I'm even surprised that you manage to fill up in their position for months!"
... Oh? So he's noticed my talents, hm?
I shook my head.
"Oh, please. I'm just a humble tailor, Thoma," I reasoned, letting out a heavy sigh. "I have thought of asking them for advice on how they do their work, but since they're missing, all I can do is substitute for their absence."
He gave me an apologetic smile and nodded.
"That is true... I guess I'm just a bit too ecstatic to finally have someone that can fill in their role seamlessly. Lord Kamisato Ayato would've been panicking if we didn't have a replacement soon for his anniversary with his spouse."
... Spouse, huh?
"Hm... Is that so?"
I frowned in thought as I ponder over wanting to... Ask him for a favor. Sure, this one wouldn't do well on one's conscious mind if they knew, but it was simply for their sake.
It was all for them. I knew that.
It wouldn't hurt anyone if I asked Thoma to do this for me. At least, while I still have the chance to do so.
I can only hope the cannon does not think of shooting it's shot to me if I slipped up.
"Speaking of, Thoma, may I ask you for a favor?"
After the first missing case of the tailor, there had been more that were reported. The victims were all varied in their appearance, age, and even from where they used to live, be it in Narukami Island or even outside of Inazuma itself.
It was difficult to tell how many there were exactly, especially with how the legend is interpreted. Some said it was 20, while others said it was 50. This legend has been passed mouth to mouth, so details were not a key figure for a few to remember well.
However, every iteration has the same detail. The victims all had the same similarity as the tailor that simply went "missing".
All of them, in some way, were associated with certain individuals— one of them being his maple, where a few commented that they were the apple of the crimson man's eye.
From the legend and how it has been told, it is safe to assume that the motive was obvious from the first missing case.
It is akin of an open secret, if said secret was twisted to fit his ideals.
"Haven't you heard?"
"What? What is it?"
"The fixer, Thoma… He went missing just few days ago."
"What!?"
…
Ah, so he went missing like the others?
My ears had perked up at the news that we were told. Although Thoma is one many people never thought of being a 'target', the fact he went missing is... Odd.
"Perhaps he had done something," I heard one of the servants whisper amongst themselves, looking rather cautious. "After all, he's been very privy on a few things..."
"Yes, but he isn't the person I'd expect to vanish like that—"
"Shh—! People are going to hear you, you know! Keep it down!"
Hearing their footsteps echo as they take their leave, I turned back to what I have been working on. The sight of the kimono graced my vision as I raised the needle.
I began to sew the tears on it, letting out a soft hum while I fixed the black fabric from it's horrible state.
Slip, stitch, cut, sew.
Slip, stitch, cut, sew.
Slip, stitch, cut—
"Sir Kaedehara? Someone is looking for you."
...!
I felt the needle prick my finger, but I didn't say anything. With a quiet hum, I raised my head to see someone speak to me, their face grim as they shifted on their feet.
Ah.
Despite the feeling of blood pour onto the fabric, I smiled and nodded, putting down the fabric of the kimono I was fixing.
"I'll be right there. Please tell them to wait for me."
"Really? Oh, thank Archons. I'll get going."
Watching them take their leave, my eyes flit over to my scissors.
Still as sharp as ever, I mused, pushing myself to stand up before fixing my attire. Mayhaps today won't need it to be sharpened.
For now, I had to see what the client wants from me. It would simply be a shame if I leave them alone for far, far too long.
Mayhaps they're here to inquire about the kimono I made. I made sure to add my personal touch to it.
...
As I walked to where my client sought to look for me, I see a familiar sight befell in the grounds of the Kamisato Estate.
The himegimi is currently speaking to my betrothed like they are close companions, and the magician (Lyney was his name, I recall), had been listening to their discussion at hand.
His eyes seem to lit up when he saw me, offering me a welcoming grin.
"You must be the tailor that my sister assigned, aren't you?" he asked when I was close enough to hear him, making me chuckle. Taking a seat across, I simply nodded, keeping my professional smile and demeanor in fear of offending him.
"Indeed, I am that tailor. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."
"Haha, please, the pleasure is all mine!"
The magician shook my hand with mine, and the meeting went as smoothly as one may expect. Although, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander sometimes to where my lover is.
You were speaking to Ayaka like she's a friend of yours. I shan't stop you, darling, but perhaps you aren't aware of the pain you put me through.
Still, I couldn't afford to raise my voice, nor can I think of hurting you with my actions.
How unfortunate. Mayhaps I need to teach you a lesson myself, my angel.
If there was one thing that the legend failed to elaborate, it is the state of the missing people. However, there were... Creative liberties to those that began to see if the legend was true; or, pray tell, associated with any real life events.
To the eyes of others, going missing is a serious deal. It sparks a lot of ideas for what could've happened to them, and especially if they are alive or dead.
Albeit many shrugged off the prior cases, this one was serious. After all, the one that went 'missing' is the fixer of Narukami Island— Thoma, the immigrant in the nation of lightning.
It is, after all, what sparked the eventual downfall of the crimson-eyed tailor and his beloved. Many had thought this was the turning point, but those that did were found to be wrong.
This, after all, was simply the beginning of such downfall. But it wasn't to his lover, the missing residents, or even his companions.
It was to himself, when he used the blades to commit a sin undeserving of forgiveness.
The news that brought upon the missing Himegimi greeted the Kamisato estate that day.
I remember how people were in a disarray. They were much more shaken as they tried to get any sort of lead to where she is, and for some, they were already thinking of quitting.
The estate is already shaken from when Thoma went missing, but now that the young heiress has up and disappeared— especially in winter— it was in chaos.
While I sew the kimonos handed to me, there was an obi that laid on the pile by my right. It was a bit worn, but it can still be saved.
I needed to fix it, and give it my own personal touch. That way, it wouldn't look as though it had been abandoned by it's past owner.
Alas, the noise is getting to me. I could feel the silk resting on my bandaged hand slip every once in a while, if it weren't for how tight I've been holding the fabric.
Slip, stitch, cut, sew.
Slip, stitch, cut, sew.
I needed to put my focus on what I'm doing. I needed to focus on the job.
Slip, stitch, cut, sew.
Slip, stitch, cut, sew.
I mustn't let blood nor dirt stain my creations.
That is what my mother taught me.
Slip, stitch, cut, sew.
Slip, stitch, cut, se—
"I apologize if the estate is in a disarray, detective," I hear a familiar voice speak amongst the hushed and panicked whispers. "The estate hasn't been the same ever since my retainer and my younger sibling had gone missing."
"Oh, it's alright! I'm sure this matter is too serious for you and the others to keep things organized."
"Haha... You can say that it is. Now, it's just right this way..."
... A detective is in the estate. How curious.
It wasn't right to snoop, but I was curious. Curious enough to have finished the kimono I was fixing before I stood to leave my quarters.
The others paid no heed as I followed after the two to Ayato's room, too focused to do what they were assigned to even bat an eye when I got close to where they were heading.
It was only when they were inside that I've stopped and simply bid my time, my focus set on what was happening by the shoji leading to his office. And it didn't took long till I hear things from the other side.
"Ah, so you think that someone is out for you?"
"Yes. Although I am normally adept in figuring out who it could be that's causing this to happen, I can't put heads or tails with how their presence eludes me."
"Man alive... And you said that it started when they went missing?"
"... Yes, detective."
"I see... Man alive, that sounds like it wasn't just a single, one-off case, then. I can help you, but this will take a while if there's no leads."
"I see. It's fine, detective. I'll pay you enough when you figure out where my retainer and sister are. I could hardly think that someone would take them without such consequence."
"Oh, no worries. With me around, no criminal will get out unscathed— I'll make sure to bring them here when I figure out who did this."
...
I see.
Perhaps its about time I have to settle this with him.
There was a time where I have thought that things will change.
Where these cases will be laid forgotten, perhaps even unresolved with the lack of hints.
I spent weeks on end, keeping my tracks short and erasing any leads that can lead towards me again.
I spent so, so long trying so desperately to hide anything resembling my crimes.
But alas... He found me.
It was the time where I had to dispose of those bodies. Although I had no heart to bury them under nature, I was not above treating them as though they were simply people.
Even in death, I wanted to make them feel like they look peaceful. Although, perhaps simply sewing their wounds left by my scissors was not something I can treat.
In the middle of the night, I was carrying the Himegimi outside of the abandoned houses I tend to with her retainer, Thoma. I had thought of letting her rest someplace else. Her attire has been sullied, and I needed to keep the two somewhere where no one can find them.
Corpses rot over time, and if it was possible, letting them turn to nothing in the likes of Tsurumi Island will be enough for my weary heart to rest.
With how adept I am of keeping my tracks hidden, I had thought no one would be able to tail on me. But alas, due to the missing cases I've caused, perhaps I wasn't expecting this to happen.
"I knew you'd be here, Kaedehara Kazuha."
I simply paused upon hearing his voice, my head craning back to see that it was Ayato. Despite how composed he looks, I can tell that the nights he spent trying to search for his beloved sibling and retainer wore him down.
His once flawless appearance was nothing but sullied, his attire feeling like its simply hanging off of him, and the way he staggered while looking at me without a shred of restrain is new. Raw for such a heir.
"And that body..." he murmured, his eyes glaring daggers when he found out who it was.
Perhaps it's her dress that makes her recognizable. Or the hair.
"... I thought I've erased everything that can lead back to me," I spoke, sighing as I placed Ayaka's body down. "What a shame. I was quite close to erasing any traces and signs of their whereabouts. It would be nice to only have them be marked as 'missing', not dead."
"So... You admit to it, then?" the heir asked, walking over with stride. "That you have done this, Kaedehara?"
I simply said nothing.
And I knew that was enough of a confirmation for him.
"I knew something was wrong with you," I heard him speak, which caught my attention. Turning my body to finally face him, I watched as he scoffed and continued, "After all, a man as serene as you often had the worst to hide."
"Oh? How curious. Why would you say that?"
I saw his lips curl to a smile.
"Why, I had someone tail after you," he answered, his tone sounding so blunt and his demeanor became more like he's simply 'teaching' me something. "Someone that is associated with the clan. I'm sure you know who it is."
... How uncouth.
"I see... And you confronted me now? For what?"
"A duel."
He unsheathed his blade, and raised it towards my direction.
"I do not usually participate in these, but I'd like to honor your tradition. If I win, you turn yourself in to the Tenryou Commission. Confess all of your crimes, and we shall call it even."
"... Very well."
I raised my own blade, as a sign to his own.
"I needn't state my own terms if I lose, as I can't let you get out alive. Now, let us settle this matter... To each of our graves."
Usually, such details cannot be recreated from interpretation alone.
However, this one was the few exceptions to it's inevitable fate due to it's popularity.
The legend had focused on keeping the existence and ties of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor up for the listener's interpretation. This scene, however, was directly associated to a case that had been tackled many years ago.
The case went as such: each resident of a town goes missing each week. No one knows when it happens, as the day is often random. The victims of these disappearances are also random, so no one could derive from it being a 'pattern'.
No matter how young or old one is, their gender, their living conditions, and even their past... When they least expect it, they simply vanish. Erased.
The only times where the victim was found, several eye-witnesses had different iterations. Some said that the bodies were buried, while others found it floating by riverbanks and the side of the sea.
But the most common— and widely known, of course— was that each victim were made to a doll.
Their limbs were nothing if not sewn with thread, cuts of various degrees being patched with thread of similar color to 'mask' it's oddity. Their eyes were closed, but those that were unfortunate to open it were only greeted with it being turned to the back of their heads.
In some victims, several pieces of their possession were taken. However, most kept theirs on their person, and were seen to not be tampered with.
No one knows what drove someone to this degree. No one can even comprehend such a fact that it was entirely possible.
But to someone who's mind was twisted to the point of no return... It was.
This case had a name, but every resident of Inazuma refused to speak of it. Each time one does, they were told of the legend behind this case.
They were told of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, and they were warned of one thing.
"Do not look at him or his betrothed. If you do, you're as good as dead."
...
It had been a year since our fight happened.
I remember the chaos that occurred back when I finally erased that man. Although it did left his body in an undesirable state, I still fixed and sew him up so that he didn't look as such.
Even in death, I wish to give the heir some form of dignity. That, in some way, I wish to give him his final respects.
After all, he had simply misunderstood my intentions. He didn't knew that I was out for one person from the very beginning.
The downfall of the Kamisato Clan was imminent at that point. I've seen many flee, and witnessed the tragedy befall on the Narukami Island. Many of the people I've met had simply ran off to seek refuge, the terror grasping and choking them like they were unable to think.
However, I remain clear. And I simply continued to do my work diligently.
I have been working on something... Special. And with one last snip of my bloodied scissors, it was now complete.
My final and life-long work, all laid across and now in my hands. The fabric I chose was rather difficult to sew. I should have known that human skin would be too hard, depending on where I retrieved it from.
Dying it in black, I wrapped the obi that had been sewn with the use of the Himegimi's locks, and retrieved the crest of the Kamisato Clan. Adorning it on my person, I viewed myself at the mirror to see my handiwork.
"Finally," I murmured, feeling an odd sensation in my chest as I wore the fruits of my labor. "It is now complete."
With the chaos guiding me and masking my presence, I fled to head by the mountain.
I knew where you were bound to go.
I knew of your crimes long before you knew me.
I didn't paid much attention if anyone saw me. I didn't care if blood simply poured from my attire and to the ground that I'm walking on. I could hardly give a damn if some realized of my crimes in that blasted estate.
I had my scissors with me, and I only wish to fulfill my last wish before I leave this cursed world.
You murdered my family, [Name].
You were the one who caused that fire all those years ago.
I remember those burns you gave me. I remember just how much of a coward you were, fleeing from the scene you caused yourself.
How could I lose everything? And how can you keep your family?
No. No, that mustn't happen. I must set this right.
As your 'lover', I'll make sure you understand what you did wrong.
The culprit of the legend was caught, at least by the end.
All of the townsfolk had banded over to help the detective figure out who had caused such a stir, and it was only because of one eye-witness that said everything. That simply told the truth of the man behind it all.
It was the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, the one who was gripped with envy, that caused such a massacre to occur.
When they found what became of the last victim, his 'lover', they became a doll of his own. After killing them, the legend proceeded to speak of how he had simply 'sown' their skin alongside his, making them his perfect beloved doll.
One of the iterations even mentioned that his unnamed lover was in a Shiromuku outfit, eyes gouged so they may "never look at another man". At least, from what the tale has concluded.
Because of the severity of his crime, the tailor was sent to be on his death row. When the detective tried to get information out of him, they found out that he has lost his mind.
He became a shell of the brilliant man they knew, laughing and speaking that he has finally fulfilled his desire.
Even when he was dragged onto the guillotine, that day was marked as the end of the massacre, and those who were alive spoke of the man's chilling laughter up until his head was cut off.
...
And that was the end of the "Crimson-Eyed Tailor" and his legend.
Or, more accurately, the history of the known "Dead Man's Heart" case, and how Kaedehara Kazuha murdered the one he "loved" for revenge.
@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023
202 notes
·
View notes