[AU].

You limp away from danger, battered and bruised, almost on the verge of collapsing after a life-threatening mission. You survived, but your men paid the price. Out of a selfish desire to meet your siblings, you had wasted the lives of your men—the only people, besides the maids, who were the closest thing you could call “family.”

That didn’t matter anyway. Your trauma was just another Tuesday for Arlecchino. After reporting back to Fatui HQ, a document was quickly drafted and given to her. You had not even arrived back at the mansion when the news was already told to her.

Upon your return, you wanted to report what had happened, but it seemed she had already read the documents beforehand. She gave you a distasteful look—the same one you had seen for more than seven years of your life.

“What is this bullshit?” said Arlecchino, lifting the documents and pointing at them. “You couldn’t even last a mission without losing your men? How pathetic can you possibly be? You were raised to be a prodigy, not some third-rate Harbinger. Honestly, it’s a miracle that you even ranked 11th, you good-for-nothing child.”

She was fuming, and you stood there, taking her hurtful words to the face. You knew this wasn’t the end of it; before you could even respond, you had already predicted what was to come. She stood up, walked toward you… and then…

SLAP “You can’t even do anything right! How can I call you my child if you can’t even do something as simple as the task I gave you?!”

You wanted to lash out, to tell her your frustrations. But you didn’t want another broken rib, did you? Another scar added to your once-clear body, another bruise on top of the countless others—yet another mental scar that would never disappear.

“You can’t even find the strength to talk. You have no right to call me your mother when you’re this weak.”

It was ironic, really. You were deprived of attention, affection, abused and neglected, and yet somehow it was still your fault.