Chapter Text
»»———— 火 ————««
He’s twelve when he first hears about her from his father.
“You are familiar with her, I presume?”
‘Her’ refers to Kamisato Ayaka, younger sister of Kamisato Ayato, as well as the sole princess of the renowned Kamisato house. Of course he knows who she is. There isn’t a soul in Inazuma who doesn’t know her name.
“Yes, father,” he replies, just as he’s been taught to. Short, to the point, and no longer than necessary. Nobles as illustrious as the Kamisato family have no need for bodyguards who would waste even a second of their time.
“Good. The princess is turning twelve next year. You are to be assigned to her. I’m sure you know what that means.”
And indeed he does. His entire family has lived and died serving the Kamisato bloodline. The women grow to be handmaidens, while the men grow to be guards. (Though, from what he’s heard his father say after one too many cups of sake, the two aren’t treated very differently.) As the princess’s personal guide, he is to be by her side at every waking moment. From dawn to dusk, he will be expected to go where she goes and do what she says. He can’t say he’s very fond of this arrangement, but he wasn’t given much of a choice in the matter.
He would very much have preferred to be assigned to her elder brother instead. He’s heard good things about him, that he’s a kind man and that he treats those under him with care. The same, however, cannot be said for the princess. The only people who know her well enough to tell him anything about her would be the two handmaidens who attend to her every need, and he hasn’t seen them in years since they began caring for the noble daughter.
“Of course, father.”
“Very well then. You may return to your training.”
His father slowly gets up and exits the room, sliding the door shut with an unnecessary amount of force. Tohma waits for the sound of his footsteps to fade away before letting out a long sigh and shifting his legs on the neat tatami flooring to a more comfortable position. In less than a year, he would be moving from his family home to the Kamisato palace, where he would stay until dismissed. In less than a year, he would be at the beck and call of some princess he honestly couldn’t care less about. In less than a year, he would become an insignificant lapdog to a girl he knew nothing of.
He grimaces as he rises from his seat on the floor, the thought putting a foul taste in his mouth. He can’t understand why his father is always so proud of this job, of laying down his freedom to serve some wealthy family. Reaching for his polearm, he shifts his gaze to the nearby window. What if he were to run away from it all? There would be no rules out there, no one to stop him. He would be happy. He would be alive. He would be free. He shakes his head at that, abandoning his train of thought. Running away wouldn’t be a realistic solution to his problems. If anything, it would only add to them. Where would he find food? Shelter? What if he was caught in the act? He shivers at the thought of his father learning of an attempted escape. His father’s wrath is something he would rather avoid.
He grips steadily onto his weapon, clearing his head of the unruly thoughts. The familiar feeling of polished iron against his bare skin brings peace to his mind, if only temporarily. He breathes in and out once, then twice. If his destiny is to be some noblewoman’s protector, then he’s going to be damn good at it.
»»———— 火 ————««
He’s thirteen when he first sees her in person.
Short.
That’s the first thing that comes to mind when he sees her.
The girl in front of him is short and presumptuous, nothing at all like her brother. He can feel dread settling in his gut at the thought of serving her for the rest of his life. The lower half of her face is covered by her sensu fan, made of the most expensive Inazuman silk and the finest hinoki wood. He eyes the accessory, taking note of the designs and their symbolisms. Hints of gold for wealth, navy blue for composure, and a single plum blossom for elegance. None of this tells him anything new about her, since these are the very three virtues the Kamisatos have sworn to uphold.
“Well,” her mother says from behind him, “now that the two of you have met, I shall take my leave. I have matters to attend to elsewhere. Happy birthday, dear Ayaka.”
“Thank you, mother,” she replies, not sounding very thankful at all.
The noblewoman exits the room gracefully, leaving the two of them alone. The princess seems to relax, just a little, and Tohma finds that she seems more human somehow. Earlier, when her mother was present, it felt as if she was putting on airs- acting more like a princess and less like a person. Now that she’s gone, she seems different somehow. Still short, yes, but no longer pretentious. She feels real, and he likes it.
The princess clears her throat softly, earning his attention.
“So,” she asks, “what do you want me to call you?”
He nearly sighs in relief, glad she isn’t simply addressing him as ‘Guard’ the way the rest of the family does.
“Tohma,” he replies, uncharacteristically nervous. “That’s, um- that’s my name.”
The princess lowers her fan from her face, folding it as she does, and he watches her lips as they curve upward into a small smile.
“Well then, Tohma, please call me Ayaka. I’m not fond of needless formalities, and something tells me you aren’t either.”
“As you wish, pri- I mean, Ayaka.”
He finds that her name rolls off his tongue as easily as his own, which is strange though not unwelcome. His eyes roam around her room, noting the sheathed sword by the side of her bed.
“Do you use that?”
“Pardon?”
“That sword beside your bed.”
Ayaka seems surprised at his question, staying silent for a few moments before answering him.
“Yes, I do. I haven’t had any formal training, but I can use it quite well.”
She can wield a blade without being taught? Now that’s interesting. Ever since he was small, his father has always harped on about how important technique is and about how no one who uses a weapon can truly use it well without proper training. Perhaps Ayaka is different. He finds himself hoping she is.
“Really? I’d, uh, like to watch you. If you’d let me, that is.”
The girl lets out a small laugh, and he wonders why it reminds him of the sound of birds singing after a long day.
“You’re free to, of course. Not here, though. It’s too cramped, and my mother would have my head if I broke anything.”
She pauses for a moment before continuing, voice hushed down to a whisper.
“Meet me outside the palace’s eastern walls later tonight when your shift is over. Bring your weapon too.”
The princess smiles mischievously, bringing a finger to her lips.
Understanding the request for secrecy, he only nods in response.
Maybe this job won’t be so bad after all.
»»———— 火 ————««
He’s fourteen when she first holds his hand.
He requested a day off yesterday for training purposes, and she allowed it on the condition that he would let her visit him. When he asked why, she claimed it was because she knew the guard her mother would temporarily assign to her would be nowhere near as entertaining as him. He laughed at that, telling her he would miss her too.
Now, as he’s practicing with his spear, all he can think of is her. Since meeting her last year, his motivation has only grown. He needs to protect her, to shield her, to guard her. Granted, she doesn’t need his protection, but the thought of her getting hurt sparks a flame inside him that he can’t seem to ignore.
For the past few months, Ayaka’s swordsmanship has been steadily improving thanks to the formal training her parents have finally granted her. He doesn’t know much about it, only that some distant relative with years of experience is passing his knowledge on to her. Though he’s happy for her (of course he is), what kind of bodyguard would he be if the person he’s supposed to protect is better than him? He can’t have that happen. He needs to become stronger.
Most of his time nowadays is spent simply standing around, following the princess wherever she goes. It’s made him rusty, it dawns on him, and he frowns at the realization. He’ll have to set aside a few more hours for training after his shift each day if he wants to keep in shape.
He sighs, and he’s about to take another jab at the training dummy in front of him when he hears someone shove the doors open.
No.
Only one person handles the doors that roughly.
He didn’t expect his father, of all people, to be home right now. In fact, he made sure to only stay at the family estate during his working hours so as to avoid him. How is he here? He should be at the Kamisato palace right now.
“Son!” he says in his obnoxiously loud voice. “There you are! Glad to see you back in the family home!”
He swallows the nothingness in his mouth before replying.
“Hey, dad.”
The man raises an eyebrow at that.
“F-father, I mean. Greetings, father. Um, what a surprise to see you here! I assumed you would still be back at the palace working, haha.”
He winces at the sound that comes out of his mouth. It’s meant to be a laugh, but it’s so forced it sounds more like a pitiful gurgling noise than anything else.
“Nonsense! I would never miss the chance to see how my son is doing! In fact, I purposely requested to be on leave at the same time as you so we would be able to meet! I’m sure the palace life is treating you well, you must enjoy it there. Requesting a day off is fine if you do it on occasion, but don’t make a habit of it. Remember, the Kamisatos are our highest priority.”
His father pauses after that, eyes boring holes into his training gear.
“Your stance is wrong. Your feet should be farther apart. Your back should be straighter. Haven’t I taught you this several times over? Show me your stance again. Do it correctly this time.”
He hates this, hates the feeling of his father’s eyes on him, hates the pressure to always act perfect around him, hates that he has no choice but to sit and obey.
“Yes, father.”
He assumes his stance. Feet farther, back straighter. Is this enough to satisfy him?
“Wrong!”
Of course it isn’t.
“What in the name of Baal are you doing?” his father shouts. “This isn’t what I taught you! You are disgracing the family art! Will you have to learn this all over again?”
The man continues shouting- no, not shouting- screaming. Tohma is sure the entire household can hear his booming voice. But he pays it no mind, not listening to the words he’s sure he’s heard a thousand times, tuning out the voice he hears in his head day and night telling him that he isn’t good enough. Because it’s right. He isn’t.
All the words his father has said so far have slipped past him, but the boy hears his next words loud and clear.
“I will have none of this! You will relearn everything I have taught you, no matter how long it takes! I refuse to believe I have raised such a worthless son.”
Another ‘yes, father’ is making its way up his throat when he hears the doors open again. The sound it makes is somehow even louder than when his father opened it, which is strange. But he doesn’t dwell on it, doesn’t allow himself to look up- because he knows his father will berate him again if he dares to raise his head when he should be bowing as low as possible on the floor, forehead kissing the woven tatami mat.
“Princess?!”
His father’s sudden cry startles him. Did he just say ‘princess’? No, Ayaka isn’t supposed to be here. Not right now. He lifts his gaze and sees her furrowed brows, her trembling frown, the rage in her eyes. This is the angriest he’s ever seen her, he realizes, as she brazenly grabs his hand and storms out of the room with him behind her.
“P-Princess,” his father stammers, “what are you doing?”
“None of your business!” she declares, her volume near shouting.
She rushes out of the room, and he follows her like a lost puppy, still dazed about the whole situation. As they run out of the house, he feels the soft grass at his feet, and he wonders if this was what it would feel like if they were normal children. No nobles, no burdens, no responsibilities. Just the two of them, fingers intertwined, rushing off to wherever their feet would take them.
It feels nice, he decides, and he lets out a chuckle. And then another. And then he finds himself laughing so hard his sides hurt but not knowing why. He sees Ayaka turn to him, a smile of her own on her face, and he swears he imagines a tear glisten in the corner of her eye. She doesn’t stop running, and neither does he, but as he looks into her eyes, he feels as if the world has stopped around them. The details fade into white and gray, leaving just the two of them side by side.
He likes this, whatever it is. He wants more of it. More precious memories, more moments with her. He doesn’t know where she’s taking him, but he’ll go anywhere so long as it’s with her.
»»———— 火 ————««
He’s fifteen when he first breaks into her room.
They’re walking back to her room after a meeting that took much longer than it was supposed to. He’s not exactly familiar with the mumbo jumbo of Inazuman politics, but even he understands that the discussion could have turned out much better than it did. Having to listen to the entire thing was tiring enough as it is, archons know how Ayaka must be feeling right now.
He turns to her, eyeing her with concern. To the average person, she would look the same as usual, but he knows better. There’s a heaviness to her footsteps, a tired look in her eyes that only he can see. She’s exhausted. He can tell.
The two of them finally reach her room, and he lets out a sigh as he closes the door behind them. He catches Ayaka immediately making her way to a stack of important-looking papers on her desk and blocks her path with his arm.
“You need to rest,” he tells her. She stiffens at that, which only does more to prove his point. “It’s been a long day, and I know you’re tired.”
“I’m fine,” she lies, “not tired at all. I have a lot of work to do.”
“Your hair’s still up, you know. You always let it down once you’re in your room. It’s the first thing you do. You only forget if you’re tired or if something’s on your mind.”
Her hand flies up to the back of her head, feeling her headdress still on, and she frowns.
“What makes you say that? Perhaps I just felt like keeping my ponytail this time.”
“Nonsense. Do you know how many times you’ve told me your hair feels better when it’s down? I won’t fall for your tricks that easily.”
She laughs a little at that, and Tohma is glad he’s able to distract her from her work, if only for a little while. Ayaka gives him a look- one he recognizes- and he lets out a sigh.
“Alright, I’ll do it. Find a chair to sit on.”
She nods, and he goes over to her nightstand to quickly grab her comb. When he returns, Ayaka is already seated and looking out the window. Just as he’s done time and time again, he takes off her headdress, lets her hair down, and begins gently undoing the stray knots he finds here and there. Why she chooses him for this is something he doesn’t think he will ever understand. Her handmaids are likely much better at it than he is, and aren’t they trained for these kinds of things? Still, he gives in to her request each time, and it’s become a daily routine for them.
When he finishes, he returns the comb to its position on the nightstand, while Ayaka opts to continue looking out the window.
“It’s getting late,” she tells him. “Your shift probably ended an hour ago.”
“I guess it did. I’m perfectly fine staying with you, though. Consider it quality time between friends instead of me doing my job.”
“That would be nice, but you know how my mother is. She’ll scold me for having a boy in my room at this hour, even if it’s you. If the guards at the entrance don’t see you leave soon, they might get suspicious and report to her.”
“Right. I’ll leave in that case, but what’ll you do once I’m gone?”
He sees her look at the papers on her desk for a moment before replying.
“I’ll go to bed, probably.”
She’s obviously lying. The moment he leaves, she’s going to start working on those papers despite the state she’s in. If he wants to stop her, he’ll have to physically be here with her. But at the same time, if he doesn’t leave soon, her mother will probably want to have a nice, long conversation with him that he doesn’t think he’ll enjoy.
He mulls it over for a moment before coming up with a solution. It should work. Probably. There's only one way to really find out. For now, he decides not to point out her blatant lie and just play along for now.
“Alright then. Good night, Ayaka. Rest well.”
“Good night, Tohma. I’ll see you again tomorrow.”
He waves goodbye before leaving the room and making his way out of the Kamisato mansion. The guards by the entrance acknowledge him with a stiff nod, and he doesn’t stop walking until he makes a turn at the corner of the house and is no longer in their sight. He looks up at the windows, briefly scanning them all before he notices one that’s open. He takes a few steps back to see into it more clearly, and he recognizes the furniture inside to be from Ayaka’s room. Well, now the easy part is done.
He observes the trees in the area and walks over to the one closest to the window. Then, he starts climbing. His fingers find purchase on the rough bark, and he manages to climb a good height up the tree, lifting himself onto one of its branches. Whenever they sneak out of the palace to spar, Ayaka would always climb down while he waited for her. Their roles are reversed now, and he almost laughs at the realization before remembering he should probably stay quiet right now.
The distance between the branch and the window isn’t very large, so he steadies himself before making the jump into Ayaka’s room. His feet land perfectly on her windowsill, and he takes a moment to regain his balance before quietly stepping into the room. Just as he suspected, Ayaka is at her work desk, so absorbed in the papers she’s reading that she hasn’t noticed him at all.
He’s thinking of something clever to say, but then he sneezes and the surprise is ruined. She jumps at the sound, quickly reaching for her sword before turning to the source of the noise. Her eyes land on him, and she relaxes her grip on her weapon, softly sighing in relief.
“You know,” he says, pretending he didn’t make an absolute fool of himself only moments ago, “I remember you saying you were going to bed.”
“...I had a change of plans.”
“And why is that?”
He sees Ayaka pause for a moment before answering him.
“All of these have to be done by the end of the week. I don’t have much time left, so I need to finish these documents as soon as possible. You know this, Tohma.”
“Yes, I do. I also know that you’re not processing any of the words you’re reading and that tomorrow, you’ll have to go over everything again anyway.”
She flinches at that, guiltily avoiding his gaze. He takes that as a sign to continue.
“You’ll have a lot of time to work on those papers tomorrow, I promise. For now, what you need is rest. Go to bed, for real this time. Please?”
She gets up from her desk, pushing her papers to the side.
“Alright. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, though. All I’ll be able to think about is the work I need to get done.”
“Well then, how about a quick spar to take your mind off of things?”
She smiles and grabs her sword.
“I think I can handle that.”
»»———— 火 ————««
He’s sixteen when he first realizes he’s in love.
Tohma has a problem.
It’s not the life-threatening kind or the existential crisis kind, no, but it’s been eating away at him for days, and he needs it out of his head. Under normal circumstances, his go-to for this situation would be Ayaka, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind tells him that would be a bad idea, so he decides to look to others for advice instead.
Right now, he’s making his way to where Yoimiya usually handles her fireworks. She seems to know the most about things like these, which makes her his first option after Ayaka. As he approaches the establishment of Naganohara Fireworks, he sees the girl standing near the building, her eyes turned to the night sky.
“Yoimiya!” he greets her, and her gaze shifts to him.
“Tohma, hey!” she greets in return, waving cheerfully at him. He opens his mouth to talk but is cut off when she continues speaking. “Great timing! So, I need to have a fireworks arrangement prepared by tonight, and I’m almost done, but I can’t seem to figure out a proper way to end the show. Every ending I come up with always feels too flashy or too bright, you know? I want something just right to finish it off. You got any ideas?”
“Um, I don’t know much about fireworks, so I don’t think I can help you a lot with that. Sorry.”
“Oh,” she replies dejectedly. “Alright then.”
“I, uh, came here hoping to ask for your advice about something, though.”
“Oh, sure! Ask away.”
“You see,” he begins, “a couple days ago, Ayaka kissed me on the cheek. I can’t really remember why anymore, but what confuses me about it is why the memory keeps playing itself in my head over and over. My mother’s kissed me on the cheek before, and other people have too, but they’ve never had as much of an impact on me as this. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I still can’t come up with a reason to explain why this is happening. Would you happen to know anything about it?”
Yoimiya’s expression shifts from one of confusion, to sudden realization, and then to an unsettling playfulness as a grin forms on her face. She bursts into laughter, keeling over from the sheer force of her mirth. Was there something funny about what he told her? He’s fairly certain he didn’t say anything out of the ordinary.
After a short while, the girl slowly stands back up, dusts off her skirt, and regains her composure. He notices there’s still a hint of a smile on her lips as she clears her throat and begins to speak.
“So, you seriously don’t know?”
Know what? What is there to know? All this seems very confusing to him right now.
“Umm, no? If I already knew, I wouldn’t have needed your advice in the first place.”
“Point taken.”
“Well, if you’ve figured it out, could you tell me what it is?”
The girl considers this for a bit.
“Hmm, I don’t think I will. This is the sort of thing you’ll need to figure out for yourself, if you know what I mean. I’ll try asking you a couple of questions to help you get there, but if you’re really that dense, I don’t think I can do anything about it.”
“I can’t tell if you’re trying to help me or make fun of me, but go on.”
“So, do you usually feel something strange when you’re around Ayaka?”
Tohma takes a few moments to think about this.
“We’re really close, so I guess I feel like I can be myself around her. I’m really comfortable in her presence. When she’s happy, so am I. But that’s normal, isn’t it? That’s what friends are for.”
“Well, I mean, yeah. That wasn’t really the answer I was hoping to hear from you though… Let’s try another question. When Ayaka gives you affection, how does it make you feel? Don’t just think about the kiss, think about affection in general. Hugs, praises, things like that.”
“It feels sort of warm. Like there’s a tiny sun heating me up and making me feel all fuzzy, if that makes sense.”
“That’s great, you’re getting there! Oh, how about this? How did you feel when Ayaka kissed you on the cheek? And how was it different from the kisses you’ve gotten from family and friends?”
“But Ayaka is my friend.”
“Just answer the question, Tohma.”
“Alright then, um, it’s a little hard to put it in words. Can you imagine a sort of bright light suddenly shining inside of you, and it slowly fades away, but even after it’s gone, you can still picture it clearly in your head? That’s kind of how it felt to me. When other people show affection to me, the feeling I get is nowhere near as intense as that. It’s like Ayaka is a special case somehow.”
“So close!! Um, oh! I know! How do you feel about Ayaka that sets her apart from the others?”
“Well, I always feel lighter around her. We’ve been together for a long while, so we know each other really well. I look forward to seeing her everyday, and I miss her when I get off my shift. Sometimes, when we’re alone, I feel the sudden urge to just hold her in my arms and never let go. That’s a little weird though, since that doesn’t feel like something friends would do. It seems more like a romantic type of thing.”
Yoimiya sighs at that.
“Maybe because it is a romantic type of thing. Have you ever thought about that?”
Oh.
Oh.
So that’s what this is.
Tohma can feel his face heating up at the realization that he loves Ayaka. So many things seem to click into place. The way he feels around her, the way he craves her touch, the way he thinks he could stare at her for hours and never get tired. It all makes perfect sense.
Yoimiya pats him on the back lightly.
“Congratulations, you finally got it. Took you a while, though.”
“Thanks, I guess. But, uh… what do I do now that I know how I feel about her?”
“Just go where it takes you. Confess if you want to, all that stuff. Make sure to tell me all about it, though. Consider it as payment for our little talk today. Who knows, maybe some of the stuff you say will give me ideas for my future shows.”
“...I’ll think about it. But how would anything I say in the future help you? Nothing I’ve said today has given you any ideas, as far as I know.”
Yoimiya seems to think about that for a moment before her eyes widen almost impossibly and she grips him firmly on both his shoulders.
“What was it you said again earlier?”
“About what?”
“About how you felt when Ayaka kissed you on the cheek.”
“It was like a bright light that slowly faded away?”
She snaps her fingers at that.
“Tohma, you’re a genius!”
“I didn’t do anything though.”
“No no, you don’t understand, this is the perfect way to end the fireworks show! A burst of colorful lights suddenly appearing in the sky and slowly fading away from view perfectly fits the atmosphere of the display! I’ll have to use different fireworks from the ones I normally do, but I’m sure that won’t be too much of a problem. I need to go tell the others about this so they can start getting things ready!”
“Oh, alright. Thanks for the advice.”
“My pleasure! And you need to tell me everything that happens, alright?”
“No promises.”
The girl pouts at him playfully before grinning and waving him goodbye as she leaves. Once she’s out of his sight, Tohma heaves a sigh. He’s gotten the answers he came here for, yes, but he has a new problem now. If he’s in love with Ayaka…
What is he supposed to do about it?
»»———— 火 ————««
He’s seventeen when he first tries to confess.
He’s waiting outside her room, idly fiddling with the deep blue cloth of his favorite (read: only) yukata to pass the time. He’s not nervous, of course. The very notion that Kamisato Ayaka’s esteemed personal guard is even capable of experiencing nervousness is ridiculous.
Okay, maybe he’s a little nervous, but he really sees no reason why he should be. He and Ayaka are simply attending a festival, one that they’ve attended many times before. How is this one any different?
Perhaps, a voice in his head tells him, it’s because this is the first festival you’ve attended with her since realizing your feelings.
“Be quiet,” he hisses aloud, just as the door before him opens, and he is met with a sight rivaling even the grandest of Yoimiya’s fireworks. The girl he is head over heels in love with stands before him, wearing a pale blue yukata adorned with cherry blossoms from head to toe. She looks absolutely stunning, and he can’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away. She seems a little confused, taking a moment to look at her surroundings before addressing him.
“Were you talking to someone just now?”
Great. The first festival he attends with Ayaka since realizing he loves her, and he’s already messed it up.
“Nope,” he manages to say amidst his nervous laughter. “Not at all.”
The girl gives him a look he’s learned is synonymous to I’m not buying your poorly made excuse, but I’m going to let this slide for now, and he nearly sighs in relief. He isn’t particularly in the mood to give her an explanation to what he’s dubbed as “the strange voice in his head that gives him frighteningly accurate advice but only when he’s worrying about his sorry love life.”
“Anyway,” he continues, “we should probably head out. The fireworks display will start in around half an hour, and Yoimiya’s shows for the Tanabata Festival are really something else.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she replies. “Somehow, each of her shows is more beautiful than the last. I wonder what she has in store for tonight.”
He nods in agreement as they begin making their way to one of the nearby villages, where they're greeted just as warmly as usual. Elders welcome them and wish them a pleasant evening while the children pay them no mind as they play games and sing songs. The town seems to be bursting with color. Decorations hang everywhere the eye can see, the citizens wear their finest yukatas, and at the very center of it all is a single stalk of bamboo carrying the weight of the people's wishes.
They head over to the tree, each bringing out their own slips of paper- hers light blue and his crimson red. Ayaka quickly grabs her calligraphy brush to begin writing as Tohma wonders what he should wish for this year.
What to wish for… there are several things he could write. It would be nice if his feelings for Ayaka happen to be requited, or if Yoimiya would stop pestering him for updates on his "romantic adventures." Still, neither of those feel right somehow. He mulls over it for a moment before deciding to just write the same thing he does each year.
He takes the brush into his hands, carefully writing a few short words before turning to Ayaka, and he sees that she hasn't hung her paper on the bamboo yet. She looks at him- a silent invitation- and he smiles in acceptance. The two of them hang their wishes together on separate branches as they usually do. They have an unspoken agreement to keep their individual wishes private, which is very convenient on his end considering the words scrawled onto his paper.
As Tohma steps back to admire the decorated bamboo stalk, he realizes they're the only ones at the tree. Why his brain seems to suddenly find that relevant, he has no idea.
Doesn't this moment feel special?
Oh, there goes that annoying voice again. When will it leave him in peace?
All the villagers are busy elsewhere, and nobody's paying attention to you two. It feels like the world has stopped somehow, no? Like the two of you own this moment in time.
Well… that isn't wrong.
The atmosphere seems just right, too. Now would be a good time to tell her your feelings! It's a festival, is it not? Wouldn't it be romantic?
He finds that it's… actually not a bad idea. If he's going to tell Ayaka how he feels, he wants the occasion to be memorable. The Tanabata Festival is perfect for that. He decides to give it a try, taking a few moments to gather his courage before he speaks.
“Ayaka?”
“Hm?”
“There’s- There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been wanting to get it off my chest for a while, but I could never really find a good time to let you know.”
She seems surprised at that, and there’s a faint flush on her cheeks he’s almost certain isn’t the result of his overactive imagination.
“The thing is… I-”
“There you two are!”
The familiar voice startles him, and he turns around to see Yoimiya waving at them from nearby. She casually approaches them with a lighthearted grin on her face.
“Oh, have you guys made your wishes yet?”
“Indeed we have,” Ayaka replies. “You?”
“I wrote mine down like an hour ago,” the girl says with a cheery thumbs up. “Why don’t we all share our wishes with each other? Wouldn’t that be a fun way to start the night?”
“Well, I’d prefer not to… You’ve heard the saying, haven’t you? That if you say your wish out loud, it won’t come true.”
“Aww, really?” the blonde pouts. “You’re no fun. Well, how about Tohma?”
“I hate to disappoint you, but I agree with Ayaka on this one.”
Yoimiya sighs and shakes her head, a fond smile etched onto her face.
“Really, you two… Alright then, I won’t pry. Either way, the fireworks should be starting soon! You might miss them if you stay here any longer. Wanna watch them together?”
“Of course,” Ayaka agrees. “You go ahead, we’ll catch up in no time.”
The girl waves at them and quickly runs off into the crowd.
“So, you were saying something?”
Right, the confession. If only Yoimiya didn’t call them when she did… Well, the moment is ruined now. He’ll tell her another time, perhaps. They have all the time in the world.
“Oh, it’s nothing serious. Maybe another time.”
Ayaka purses her lips, and Tohma sees a brief flicker of disappointment on her face before she smiles at him and grabs his hand.
“Let’s go watch the fireworks then.”
He gives her a small nod, and as they disappear into the crowd, he takes one last glance at the words on the bright red paper tied to the sturdy bamboo stalk.
I wish for nothing but Ayaka’s happiness.
»»———— 火 ————««
He’s eighteen when he first finds out.
“There’s no way.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
“You’re joking. This is some kind of trick, isn’t it?”
“Afraid not, Tohma. I’m telling the truth, you have to believe me.”
“Believe what? You want me to believe that Ayaka’s been planning her engagement for years? That she never told me? That the arrangement will be finalized tomorrow?”
“I assumed you knew-”
“Well, I didn’t! I- I just-”
Tohma rests his head in his hands and lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Why didn’t she tell me? We tell each other everything. At least, I thought we did. Why wouldn’t she let me know? What if she doesn’t trust me?”
“Of course she does,” Ayato consoles him. “She thinks the world of you, Tohma. I’m sorry you had to find out about the engagement this way, but perhaps she felt that the information would only worry you.”
“Yeah… maybe. I’ll have to ask her in person, though. How long have you known?”
“For as long as I can remember. It's family tradition for the eldest daughter to be engaged on her eighteenth birthday. Her fiancé-to-be is scheduled to arrive first thing tomorrow morning.”
Tohma groans loudly. If he has to sit through all of that tomorrow, he’ll have to mentally prepare himself while he can. All he can think of the whole ordeal is that he absolutely despises it. Why are arranged marriages still practiced these days? Most of the noble clans have lost their power, and even the once-renowned Kaedehara bloodline has nearly nothing left to its name.
He lets out another sigh as he rises from his seat.
“I’ll head back to my quarters then. It’s getting late, and I still need some time to process this before I go to bed.”
“Oh, really?” Ayato asks. “I assumed you would tell Ayaka how you feel about her.”
“And why would I do that? You already know why I haven’t confessed to her yet, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
“While I understand your sentiments, I would suggest making an exception this once. Tomorrow morning, once the engagement is finalized, Ayaka won’t be able to nullify the agreement. She’ll be wed to the man within the month, and you’ll be powerless to stop it. You’ll have to live the rest of your life with the knowledge that you had a chance, Tohma. You had a chance, and you didn’t take it. Is that really what you want?”
“No,” he replies. “It’s not.”
“Then what are you waiting for? The night won’t last forever, you know. Tell her while you still can.”
“But-”
“Just trust me and be selfish for once. I promise you everything will turn out alright.”
Tohma looks at him skeptically. This all sounds too good to be true, but he’s never seen Ayato make a bad decision before, so he decides to follow his advice.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Wonderful! I wish you two the best.”
The boy thanks him as he gets up from his seat and waves a quick goodbye before leaving. Ayaka’s mother is still as strict as ever about not staying in her room past his shift, so he has no option but to get there through her window, lest he be spotted by one of the other guards.
He quietly climbs up the aging tree, careful not to make too much noise. When he reaches the top, he’s surprised to see the girl pensively looking out her window. Why is she still awake? She rarely ever stays up at this hour. He’s about to speak when she notices him, her eyes widening in confusion.
“Tohma?” she asks, startled. “What are you doing here?”
He makes a feeble attempt at mentally preparing himself before he begins to speak (it doesn’t work, he’s still very very scared). He’s never been good with turning his feelings into words. He can’t write flowery prose or make fancy poetry, so he decides to simply get straight to the point.
“Ayaka, I’m in love with you.”
»»———— 火 ————««