Chapter Text
Kuki Shinobu should have known this night was cursed from the get-go. Really, what kind of restaurant makes their first-ever customer start sobbing uncontrollably? They haven’t even brought the drinks out yet.
To be fair to Itto and the rest of the gang, it isn’t really anyone’s fault. The woman is just overcome with emotion. The opening isn’t even supposed to be for another hour or so, but she just stormed in here with glassy eyes, invitation in hand, and sat in the nearest chair.
Shinobu is honestly a little scared. Itto is in the backyard feeding his stash of onikabuto— and apparently giving them a pep talk—, so she’s technically the de facto authority until he gets back in. Which means… this is her job. Fantastic.
“Hi there, ma’am,” she tries softly. “Uh, welcome to To Bean Or Not To Bean. Is everything… okay?”
The woman finally looks up from her sobbing fit, apparently just realizing that she’s the only guest. She sniffles, looking a bit embarrassed, and attempts to dry her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just— is this real?”
“Um… yes?”
The woman begins smiling through her tears. “Truly?”
Shinobu is getting more and more concerned, and the invitees who made the “high risk” list haven’t even arrived yet.
The puzzle pieces come together, finally, when a voice from the kitchen cries out in disbelief. “ Mom? ”
***
Long story short, the woman is Genta’s mother. It’s… kind of sweet, and kind of funny. She can’t determine which description outdoes the other, but Genta’s face is beet red. He’s fallen victim to what looks like a suffocating hug, his mother sobbing into his shoulder. “Thank the Archons! You have a real job! I never thought this day would come.”
Oh, that’s extremely awkward.
“Mom!” He hisses. “Stop crying. It’s embarrassing!”
It’s too late, though, and the damage is already done. Shinobu snickers and shakes her head. Since this is no emergency, she needs to start doing her job for the night: she’s supposed to be the “hostess” (a job which also includes being the bouncer. She has a feeling things might get a little dicey tonight).
Honestly, aside from the crying lady, things are going suspiciously well. The gang hired professional musicians to provide a soundtrack this time in order to make sure everyone gets plenty of breaks in their work to hang out with their families, the place is very clean, and it’s shaping up to be a beautiful night in terms of the weather. Shinobu can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go horribly wrong, but maybe that’s inevitable. It’s the Arataki Gang’s trademark, after all. And really, after all of the “dangerous” idiots that she’s dealt with in the last couple of months, she feels like not much would surprise her anymore. That’s what she tells herself, anyway.
As the sun begins to set, more guests start trickling in— mostly parents of some of the gang members— with similar (albeit less dramatic) reactions to Genta’s mom.
Even Granny Oni— the stuff of legends in the Arataki Gang— shows up. Itto pulls her into a huge bear hug before she gets the chance to sit down, and it becomes apparent that she’s much stronger than she looks, since she just hugs him right back.
Shinobu might gag sooner or later. It’s heartwarming, all this hugging and family stuff, but it’s getting a little sappy for her taste. Thank goodness my family isn’t here. That’d get awkward really fast.
She can’t dwell on that thought for very long before a familiar face appears in the doorway. Oh, fantastic. It’s Childe, followed by a smaller version of him. To his credit, she didn’t think he’d actually show up with his little brother. It’s a very long— very expensive— trip from Inazuma to Snezhnaya and then back to Inazuma, especially in such a short period. The guy must be loaded. That’s probably why he’s so annoying. On the other hand, maybe they can bribe him to be a donor to the restaurant.
“Hey there! You didn’t think I’d forget, didja?”
She sighs. Here comes another night of this shit. “Never. Welcome to To Bean Or Not To Bean, Childe and… child. Thank you for your patronage.”
“Hey! My name isn’t Childe! It’s Teucer!” The kid looks utterly livid, and Childe actually seems embarrassed. This new dimension might make things a bit more entertaining.
“My mistake.”
Childe clears his throat. “This is my little brother, Teucer. And Teucer, this is Kuki Shinobu, my…”
“ Bro!” The sound of Itto screaming behind her almost makes her jump out of her skin. “You made it!”
Childe offers a small wave.
“He’s my bro,” Teucer says sourly.
“Whoa, really?” Itto doesn’t even look fazed. “Then we must all be bros! I’m Itto, little bro.”
“No.”
Shinobu is pretty sure she’s never seen a child look so unimpressed in her life.
“Teucer, don’t be rude!” Childe looks around awkwardly as if he’s going to magically find a way out of this conversation, and Shinobu is feeling merciful, so she gives him an opening:
“So… maybe you guys should sit down with the other guests! Take a look at the place, you know? We worked too hard putting it all together for you to only see the entryway!”
“Oh, yeah! Let me show you guys all of the art we hung up! It’s hand drawn by us!” Itto grabs them both by the elbows and drags them into the dining area, and Shinobu can’t help but laugh. Maybe things aren’t going to go too badly after all. After all, if Childe is stuck babysitting all night, how much havoc can he truly wreak? It has to at least be semi-contained.
As for Scaramouche, there’s no way that fucker will show up. It might just turn out to be an uneventful night after all.
***
Just for the record, tonight is going horribly. Teucer didn’t eat lunch today because he didn’t feel like it, and now he’s like, hangry or something. Tonia told Childe that taking Teucer anywhere was a horrible idea, but he didn’t listen, because “really, how bad could it be?”
It’s bad. It’s really, horrifically bad.
Teucer is like a walking storm cloud, and Childe has zero idea of what to do about it.
“This,” Itto says proudly, gesturing to a painting on the wall, “is a portrait of the Arataki Gang that I painted myself! What do you think?”
Teucer is very clearly unimpressed. “You’re bad at finger painting.”
He’s not wrong. The “members” drawn are indistinguishable from one another, save for the exaggerated height differences, and the entire drawing is centered around what looks like… a miniature cow? Childe is all for artistic liberties, but he’s incredibly confused.
Itto laughs. “We’re all still learning at our own paces, little bro.”
Teucer glances at Childe with an expression of pure skepticism, and it’s all he can do to just shrug and hope he drops the subject.
“Anyway! You guys should go sit down and meet Granny Oni! She’s the coolest lady— and the best onikabuto fighter— in the whole world! She even taught me!”
“Uh… okay.”
***
“The coolest lady in the world” has got to be the understatement of the century. Not only did ‘Granny Oni’ give Teucer a cookie, which somehow quelled his abyssal rage, but she’s currently engaged in an arm wrestling match with Childe, and she isn’t even losing.
She isn’t even losing. In fact, she might be winning, which should be embarrassing, but he’s too focused on this to care.
The two of them are sitting directly across from one another, arms pressed into the wood of the table, and the old lady’s brittle nails are digging into the skin of his hand so much that he might be bleeding. He feels like that might be cheating, but she’s too old for him to make a real complaint.
All of the kitchen and waitstaff have paused in their duties to gather around and watch the spectacle. Teucer appears to be his biggest— and only— fan, red-faced and on the edge of his seat. “Come on, Childe! You can’t lose to an old lady!”
He literally can’t take this kid anywhere.
Granny Oni is a good sport about it, though. She gives Teucer a wry smile and simply says, “This is no ordinary old lady, kiddo.”
Childe, with beads of sweat dripping down his face, wonders briefly if she, too, has a demon eating away at the depths of her soul in exchange for arm-wrestling power.
If so, the Arataki Gang— particularly Itto— is none the wiser. They’re huddled even closer to the fight now, leaning in so much that he can almost feel them breathing down his neck, and the other guests are just peering over gang members’ shoulders in morbid curiosity . This has got to rank in the top ten fights he’s ever had, and no one has even been killed. It’s wild, actually.
A chant starts building, beginning with an almost undetectable whisper and gradually crescendoing into a roar. “ Granny Oni. Granny Oni! GRANNY ONI!”
Now, that’s just not fair. Under the pressure, his arm is starting to give way, until Teucer lets out a primal scream. He honestly looks like he’s about to pass out. “You can do it, Childe! Do it for Mr. Cyclops! Do it for the family name! Do it for Snezhnaya! ”
If only his compatriots had an ounce of that blind patriotic fervor. It helps, actually, and the tables begin to turn. And yes, maybe he does let some of that demonic influence seep into his arm out of sheer desperation. It’s gotta come out sometime, after all. Maybe that’s embarrassing; maybe it’s not, but either way, he’s lightheaded by the time he slams Granny Oni’s arm down on the table with a sickening thud.
Granny Oni’s mouth forms an “o,” the whole room goes silent for a moment, and he’s briefly concerned that he accidentally made a full transformation. He’s totally out of breath and his head is spinning— he’s staring up at the ceiling, as if that’ll help—, so he has no idea. Talk about awkward .
But then Itto breaks the silence with a “ WHOA! You did that so fast that I thought your whole arm turned purple for a second there!”
The restaurant devolves into chaotic cheering after that. Teucer is bouncing off the walls, incredibly loud: “That’s my brother, losers!”
“ Yeah! ” Itto pumps his fist and lets Teucer climb on his shoulders. They’re insane, Childe thinks between the waves of nausea. But they're also kind of hilarious.
Granny Oni reaches across the table to tap his shoulder, and he looks up, doing his best to seem nonchalant.
“Young man,” she says sternly, appearing to be cradling her arm.
Shit, I probably broke a few bones there. He winces. “Yeah, about that—“
“That was awesome .”
What. The words don’t seem to match the person they’re coming from.
“I haven’t lost an arm wrestling match in decades! Other than Itto, nobody ever takes this old lady seriously!” Her face is lit up with exhilaration and she has an almost vicious twinkle in her eyes. “Let me get you a glass of juice and a cookie. You’re gonna have to tell me all about your arm workout routine.”
He stares at her, trying to process this information, while she just grins and gives him a pat on the head. “I’ll be right back.” And she ambles toward the kitchen, hunched over like the elderly woman she is, giving no indication that she’s secretly mega-strong or that their arm wrestling match even fazed her.
He literally just unleashed the energy of a demon from the Abyss on her, and that’s her reaction. “Let me get you a glass of juice and a cookie.”
Still in disbelief, he starts laughing, and Itto— looking amazed— walks over, Teucer in tow. “I told you she’s awesome! I’ve never seen anybody beat her before! You’re crazy strong, compadre!”
Well, he already knew that, but it’s still nice to hear.
“Duh!” Teucer cheers. “He’s my brother.”
He’s still cracking up. This is exactly what he needed today.
***
This is not what Ei needed today.
Miko is just short of dragging her to that stupid restaurant. “We have to go! It’d be rude not to.”
“No.”
“Come on, it’s the grand opening! Don’t you want to have another beetle fight?”
She hesitates. “…no.”
“Your kid’s gonna be there!”
“ Miko, that’s the problem!” She’s about to throw up. In public. Spewing the remnants of the mochi she had a little while ago all over her own statue is not conducive to any eternity she wants to see. Ever.
She’s assuming it’s the anxiety about Scaramouche causing her nausea, which is plenty to deal with in its own right, but even then, she’s never felt quite this off before.
Miko rolls her eyes. “You need to relax. He clearly wants to see you if he told his friends about you! And he must’ve told them. I mean, how else would they know to send you the invitation?”
“That doesn’t even make sense. ” She feels like there’s something crucially missing here. There has to be.
“And,” Miko says with a smirk, using Ei’s shoulder as a chin rest without warning. “With the way it was addressed, he must’ve called you his family . That’s so sappy, I’m almost going to be sick!”
She grimaces, clutching her abdomen. “I am going to be sick.”
“Oh, don’t give me that! I personally thought he was emotionally stunted; it’s kind of—“
“No. I’m physically going to be sick.”
“For the love of— Archons don’t get sick; get over yourself. Maybe you’re the emotionally stunted one.”
That’s when Ei actually drops to the ground and throws up.
“Oh, shit, that’s disgusting— I mean, oh, shit , are you okay?”
***
Scaramouche knows that he did not just watch the Raiden Shogun— or Ei, whoever the hell it was— keel over and vomit on her own statue on his way to To Bean Or Not To Bean . Nope. Must’ve been a hallucination, or perhaps a mirage of some sort. In fact, the imagery disappears from his line of vision almost as quickly as he blinks his eyes.
Anyway, whatever it was, he takes it as a good omen, because the sheer concept is fucking hilarious. Gross, but hilarious. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, maybe it’s karmic retribution, or maybe it’s just the result of sleep deprivation. He hasn’t been sleeping very well ever since his escapades with the Arataki Gang, he’ll admit.
He’s not sure if it’s the bean-induced existential crisis or simply the lack of his hat, or something else entirely. Perhaps it was Shinobu’s bizarre looming threat, “or I’m spreading the bean intel,” that sent him over the edge. To his credit— and it’s been very hard work—, he hasn’t committed any murders yet since leaving, but he has a feeling that she probably spread the “intel” either way.
With that in mind, actually attending the ‘opening night’ is a very, very dumb idea. He’s not even sure why he’s doing it. By all accounts, especially considering Childe’s horrid “deal” with him in Liyue, he should not be doing this.
Just to be clear, he does not miss the Arataki Gang. That is the furthest possible reason from the truth for his subconscious motives, whatever they may be. To be honest, it’s mostly because he’s bored. He’s had nothing to do— and no one to massacre— in the past month, unless you count the staring matches with the Gnosis, and he’s pretty sure his very identity is beginning to disintegrate.
The Gnosis, by the way, is the most useless piece of garbage ever. He doesn’t even remember how he got it to work in the first place, probably because his brain repressed the humiliating trauma of the allergic reaction to beans, and now he just sits and stares at it, day in and day out, willing it to be helpful. What is he even supposed to do with it, at this point? Unless it can grant immunity to food allergies, he isn’t any better off.
What ever.
So, yes, it’s out of boredom that he finally makes his way to the address listed on the invitation. Honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? He’s prepared himself to deal with Itto’s stupidity, Shinobu’s teasing, and even Childe’s… personality. He’s run through the possible scenarios in his head: at worst, he’ll have to deal with some low-level Fatui recruits as Childe’s backup, and that should actually work in his favor since he’s looking for any excuse to be violent at this point.
He doesn’t even second-guess himself when the building is the loudest one on the street (by far). He can hear obnoxious cheering and screaming through the doorway, but it doesn’t matter. He did not come all the way to Inazuma just to turn back around. He walks in.
That’s the first in a very long list of mistakes that he will make tonight.