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Time could drag on in endless silence in this place.
Ayaka gazed out the open window at the darkening sky, hands folded primly in her lap. As the minutes ticked by, she couldn't help tapping the edge of her closed fan along the hem of her left sleeve. She was certain there were other things she could do beside sit here and wait, but in her haste on the way here she hadn't thought to bring anything with which to occupy herself--she hadn't even considered for a moment that it was best she stay here. At the Kamisato Estate she always had tasks to attend to, and if not her brother's retainers could easily find one for her; but even if she were to return now she wouldn't be able to focus on them anyhow.
The usual lulling sounds of the Komore Teahouse had faded into the backdrop of her mind. Even as the sun painted the horizon in shades of pearlescent pinks and light oranges, all she could see was the Statue of the Omnipresent God, clear in her mental visage. The sakura blossoms drifting down from the crowns of their trees, one delicate silken petal after another alighting on cold stone skin, where lost Visions gleamed in the eternal violet glow of divine lightning.
Somewhere among them, this very moment, could be Thoma’s.
No, I must trust the Traveler will bring him back safely. Thoma without his Vision… Well, it simply didn’t bear thinking about. She couldn’t imagine her best friend broken in despair like the countless others she had encountered, torn away from his indomitable spirit by one god's relentless pursuit of eternity. Hope had always been his greatest ambition. For as long as she had ever known him, Ayaka had never seen him without it.
But that was excusing anything else the Raiden Shogun might do to him. The 100th captured Vision bearer, and a prize like Thoma no less… Would they consider him enough of a nuisance to be rid of him? He seemed to be well known among the Tenryou; surely they wouldn’t actually kill him. Surely the Raiden Shogun had not yet reached that level of cruelty.
Or perhaps they would have need to interrogate him. Thoma had a dangerous amount of information on the Resistance, but the dangerous part lay in his loyalty to them. Ever since Kujou Sara had assumed leadership of the Shogun’s armies, torture had practically become unheard of, but this time the Shogun was sure to be there to oversee the confiscation in person. She could electrocute both him and the Traveler on the spot if he presented nothing useful.
Perhaps Ayaka simply did not have enough faith in her most trusted companion. The loss of a Vision could not deter him from helping the people as much as possible. If it did, then she would be well and truly alone.
Ayaka’s gaze flickered down to the neglected cup on the table before her. The tea must have gone cold by now. A pink sakura bloom floated on top, its sweet scent bringing to mind many afternoons colored with his smile and her soft laughter.
She remembered when she was younger being taught the common prayers to the Almighty Shogun, or rather, the gods whose very blessings had under their own rule become such a burden on the people. The Visions they’d granted to those they favored then became a curse if you took them away now. Though she was wont to avoid dwelling on such thoughts, in times like these, as unladylike a sentiment it may be, Ayaka hated the gods. “If you claim to be omnipresent,” she whispered to the single pink flower petal that had drifted onto the edge of her table, “why are you not here with me now?”
A crash from outside jolted her from these musings, followed by what sounded like a muffled apology.
Ayaka spun toward the door, one hand dashing swiftly away at her eyes, but nothing more came from beyond the paper-screened walls. With a sigh, she turned back around and reached for the cooled tea.
Something tapped on the door.
Pushing down the hope that blossomed in her chest, Ayaka said, a bit too quickly, “Come in.”
A familiar blond head poked into the room, and Ayaka’s heart soared.
“Thoma! Thank the—” She stopped herself from saying archons. As she rose from her seat, her whole body feeling lighter than air, she closed her eyes for a brief moment. Thank you, Traveler.
He closed the door behind him with a belated bow. “Good evening, m'lady.”
Her eyes swept over him, searching for injuries, but other than his disheveled hair and a few dirt smudges here and there, he bore no apparent sign of having been captured at all.
“Did they… do anything to you?” she asked.
“Tied me up and tried to confiscate my Vision, but no harm done.” He grinned and rubbed a chafe mark on his wrist, then dropped his hands when he noticed Ayaka’s gaze on them. He tilted his head. “Were you worried for me, m'lady?’
Ayaka’s mouth tightened; she studied the closed edge of her fan. “You are my dear friend and a valued member of my clan. I would not know what to do if something were to happen to you.”
She glanced upward and noted the troubled look that briefly dimmed his smile.
He bowed his head. “Forgive me. I did not mean to be a cause of my lady’s concern.”
“It is of no consequence,” she said softly. I hope. “Is the Traveler safe?”
Thoma grimaced. “I have only myself to blame for this, but I can’t be certain. Because of their intervention on my behalf, I advised the Traveler and Paimon to seek refuge on Watatsumi Island. The Raiden Shogun has ordered for their arrest.” He paused. “Or rather, the Traveler’s arrest. I don’t think anyone has really noticed Paimon at this point.”
Ayaka allowed for a small chuckle at his attempt at humor, but the news did bring her some measure of relief. “Then I trust they will be all right. I know the Resistance will welcome them.”
“You seemed more concerned about me than for your friend the Traveler,” Thoma remarked, his head now tilting the other way.
“The Traveler seems to have had quite a bit of experience with this sort of thing,” Ayaka said. “I mean… that isn’t to say you don’t. It’s just…” Her forehead wrinkled as she sought the right words. “Perhaps… it is merely a difference in your dispositions.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps, m'lady.”
The assurance of his safe return still engulfed her in its warmth. “I am glad you are unharmed, Thoma. You have no idea how painful it was to be unable to do more than sit and hope for your return.”
Thoma blinked as if surprised by the raw honesty in her voice—truth be told, she had surprised herself. Any loss was a blow to the Resistance, but Thoma would have been so much more than that.
Yet the Pyro Vision at his hip continued to glow with flickering flames of hope, chasing away her earlier doubts and worries to remind her that come what may tomorrow. He was still here today. Earnest, unassuming, forever faithful Thoma, in all his cheery clever craftiness and the priceless companionship he had provided her for so long.
“As much as it pleases me to hear that, my lady,” he said slowly, as if measuring out every word, “I can’t help but wonder what you would do if my Vision had been taken.”
Also Thoma: ever the practical one. Ayaka forced a serene smile. “Whatever would happen to you, I thought we would traverse it together.”
Thoma did not respond immediately, only staring at her with an unreadable expression.
Was that too forward? Ayaka resisted the urge to flick open her fan and hide her face. She had begun second-guessing herself far too often, ever since when at some unexpected turn of events, she had looked back and realized with a start that they were no longer children.
But then he smiled again, the same warm and bright smile from when they were still children, and said, “As always, you are well-prepared, Lady Ayaka.” He looked down at his reddened wrists, the corners of his mouth taking on a rueful edge. “It’s good to know that should I ever lose my Vision, my lady will not let me lose my spirit.”
Ayaka took a step closer to him then stopped, a matching smile taking hold of her features. “Never,” she said, a quiet promise to be carried on by the wind.
Not if I can help it.