The scent of stale whiskey mingled with the ever-present dust of the frontier, creating an atmosphere Kaeya had grown fond of over the years. He sat at the corner poker table, his chair tipped back slightly, his hat angled just enough to cast a shadow over his face. In his hand, a modest selection of cards; on the table, a modest pile of chips.

To the casual observer, Kaeya was simply enjoying a good game. But the poker game was just a distraction. His real entertainment lay in the knowledge that you were hunting him.

The sheriff of this dusty little town. A thorn in his side, or rather, an entertainment he couldn't resist.

His smirk widened as he considered the wanted posters scattered across town. They always got his face wrong. Too angular, too grim. The real Kaeya was far too handsome to be captured in ink, he thought with a touch of vanity. And yet, despite the inaccuracies, they had drawn your attention. That much was clear.

That thought made Kaeya chuckle under his breath, earning puzzled glances from the men around the table. "What's so funny, Alberich?" one of them growled, his voice rough from years of whiskey and poor decisions.

"Nothing, nothing," Kaeya said smoothly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the question. "Just thinking about how lucky I am tonight."

But the real answer soon walked through the saloon doors.

He didn't need to look up to know it was you. The sudden stillness in the room was enough. Conversations dropped to murmurs; even the bartender slowed his movements, glancing nervously toward the source of the tension. The steady clink of your spurs echoed through the saloon as you approached, each step measured and purposeful.

Kaeya's lips twitched in amusement. Always so dramatic.

His gaze finally met yours, and for a fleeting moment, he allowed a flicker of surprise to dance across his features. A carefully crafted illusion, of course. He'd been expecting you. How could he not? He'd made it easy for you, sitting out in the open, as if the wanted posters scattered across the town had nothing to do with him.

"Ah, sheriff," he drawled, leaning back in his chair with an air of unbothered grace. One arm draped over the backrest, the other casually holding his cards. "How rude of you to interrupt our little game here." His tone was light, teasing, as though this were nothing more than a friendly encounter.

The other cowboys shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two of you. They knew who Kaeya was, or at least enough to know they wanted no part in what was unfolding. One by one, they began to edge away from the table, muttering excuses as they left their seats.

Kaeya didn't so much as glance at them. His attention was entirely on you.

"Well now," he continued, his smirk widening as he set his cards face down on the table. "I suppose you didn't come here for a game of poker, did you?" Behind the charm in his expression, his mind was already working through the angles. He knew the exits, the positions of every person in the room, and exactly how much time he had to outmaneuver you if it came to that.

But he didn't want to run. Not yet.