Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

As rain lashed against the windows of the tea-room, Kamisato Ayaka put her small cup of green tea to her lips, and nearly dropped it completely when the doors slid open with a crash.

She snapped her head up with a gasp, slamming the cup down on the table as she took in the sight of her brother, stood at the boundary, strands of white hair plastered to his face, his mouth open as he drew exhausted breaths. That was not the issue at hand. No, it was the second boy with him, the one he was carrying on his back like a bamboo pack, sodden through and dripping all over the floorboards. His blond hair was smeared with watered down blood, the gash on his forehead bleeding freely over Ayato’s blue coat.

It was too late for the servants to be active. The truth of it was that Ayaka should have been in bed by now, and her brother should have been in his office. She thought he had been, but, no, now he was here, sopping wet like he, too, had been out in the storm. One armed member of the Yashiro Commission had followed him in, and, with spear in hand, he said, “Lord Ayato, you—"

“Send word to the city for a doctor,” Ayato said, breathless, cutting him off with little care. “Ayaka?”

Ayaka stood instantly; though she was only young, not yet even in her teenage years, she knew that to be addressed by the head of the house meant to show respect. “Yes, brother?”

“Assist me. We need a bed, and we need towels. I will attend to the first matter. You will the second.”

Wordlessly, she nodded. Abandoning her tea, she rushed past her brother, past the guard, and ran for where they stored their amenities. It was a high cupboard out in a back room, but that was no issue. She took a chair from another room, clambered on top of it, and yanked an armful of towels out. They were plush against her skin. Beautifully comfortable. Perfect for the drenched newcomer.

The colour red bloomed in her vision, and she remembered the wound. Towels would not be enough. Bandages—they were in the cupboard over, so she dragged her chair there and took a roll. What else? Cloth. To clean the injury with. Would bandages be enough? What if it was too deep? She had no skill with a needle and sutures. Neither did her brother. She would have to wake someone, if it came to it, or they could wait for the doctor. What would be best? She didn't know.

But she had to move. From there, she dashed to the kitchen, filling a bowl with ice-cold water. Would it be better warm? Absolutely, but she had no idea how to safely light the stove. That was a job for the servants. Deriding herself for her own uselessness, she bundled everything into her arms, the towels, the cloths, the bandages, and went looking for her brother.

Where had he taken the boy? She walked the lengths of the Kamisato Estate’s corridors quietly, her socked feet not making a sound against the floorboards. The water barely moved in the bowl, as careful as she was. She passed by her mother’s cold, empty room, Ayato’s, her own. Eventually, she found signs of life in a spare room, tucked away near the back of the manor, out of sight and out of mind.

The storm continued to crash outside, illuminating the candle-lit room in purple tones. Ayato had the blond boy on the floor, sat against his chest as he pulled his arms through his sleeves, tossing the wet clothes aside in a heap. He looked up as Ayaka entered, reaching out without a word.

Ayaka carefully set down her haul and handed Ayato a towel. He took it, draping it over the boy’s shoulders, pressing it against his wet skin. Ayaka watched as his bare chest rose and fell with rasping, pained breaths. His forehead was still bleeding, blood leaking down his closed eye, his cheek.

“Brother,” she began, but Ayato shook his head. He handed her the cloth, and his intent was clear. He would get the boy dry, but the wound was hers to deal with.

She wiped away the watery blood first, the white cloth stained scarlet. It gave her a half-way decent look at the wound, which was, to her relief, not nearly as bad as she’d made herself believe it was. It was shallow, and she was certain that it wasn't the work of a weapon. In her own lessons with the blade, she’d seen how swords could cut. This was not characteristic of battle; it had simply bled as all head wounds did, which was with gusto.

Despite how close she came to the wound itself, however, the boy didn’t stir. It was only when she touched the wound itself with a new cloth that he shifted, breath hitching, eyelids scrunching in pain.

“Sorry,” she whispered, brushing his hair gently from his forehead for better access. “Brother, he isn’t waking up. Please, tell me what happened. Who is he?”

“One moment.” Ayato gently passed her the boy, his head falling against her chest, blood on her white dress. Water seeped into the fabric from his hair, cool against her skin. “He looks only a little shorter than me, so my clothing will make do for now. I’ll be right back.”

Ayaka wrapped her arms around the towel-swathed boy, hoping that the added heat from her own body might help. He was freezing cold to the touch, and shivering too. When she cast her eyes over at the pile of clothing Ayato had discarded, she found herself unfamiliar with the design, the style. Though his facial features suggested a mixed ancestry, the clothes told another story altogether.

Was he an outlander? Someone not born in Inazuma? Her breath quickened. She was both enthused and daunted at the prospect. If word got around that they of the Kamisato Clan were involved with a foreigner, a scandal might not be far behind.

Ayato returned, still soaked through himself, but with a bundle of fresh sleepwear in hand. “Is he dry, sister?”

She shook her head, dropping her bloodied cloth to take a towel and pass it over his hair. Fortunately, it was short and choppy, unlike her own and Ayato’s, which took a veritable age to dry when wet. At that thought, she handed her brother a towel for his own hair, which he declined. “No, I’ll attend to myself afterwards. Let’s get him settled first. A doctor will need to survey any serious wounds that we can’t see for ourselves, but right now, we should do what we can to make him comfortable.”

Ayaka held him still as Ayato dressed him, her arms wrapped around the boy’s shoulders. His breaths were still laborious, and the wound, while no longer bleeding badly, was raw and red and still leaking. “Brother, please, tell me what happened here. I thought you were in Father's office, and yet…well. He’s an outlander, isn’t he, so where did you come across him?”

“Not far.” Ayato took him from her when he was finished, repositioning him to dress him. He’d been right in assessing the boy's size; though the sleeves were a little long, it was almost perfect. “I went out to clear my head.”

“In this storm? But…” Ayaka’s eyes fell upon the blue orb that sat at her brother’s waist. His Hydro Vision, marking his mastery over water. Even if he could control it, the storm was of the Shogun’s power. He had no hope of avoiding it.

“The office was suffocating,” Ayato said, the explanation as to why ending there as he settled the boy on the bed. “I went out to the shore, but, when I arrived, all I found was debris, washing up onto the beach. He was in the midst of it, clinging to driftwood. I couldn’t just leave him there to die, so I went out there and pulled him to shore.”

Likely then that he was just an unfortunate sailor who had been caught in the storm, his ship smashed to bits in the face of it. But, there was something that didn’t add up. “He looks so young, though…where was the rest of his crew?”

Ayato was fifteen, not even old enough to govern by himself. The boy couldn’t have been any older. Ayaka wrung her hands out as Ayato considered her question, only to shrug. “I don’t know. There was nobody else out there, just him. I tried speaking to him, but he’s been unconscious ever since I fished him out of the ocean. Likely to do with his head wound, but I don’t like the way he’s breathing. I tried getting him to cough out whatever water was in his lungs, but…we'll simply have to wait. That’s what the doctor is for.”

It felt faintly like a twisted fairy-tale. A foreign boy, washing up on their shores, only he seemed grievously injured and deep in slumber. Ayaka sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the bandages. “I don’t know if I’ll do a good job, but this should be helpful, right?”

“Anything is better than before,” Ayato said, straightening up. “But, this is only half the issue. I’ve taken a risk by bringing him here when I know nothing about him. Our advisors are going to have my head...you’ve noticed, haven’t you? He’s not from here.”

Which meant that he might not even speak the same language, but they wouldn’t know until he woke. Once Ayaka was finished wrapping the bandage around his head, she reached for the boy’s hand, running her fingers over the back of it in soothing motions. Ayato leant back against the nearest wall with a deep sigh.

“Brother,” she said. “Go and dry yourself before you get sick.”

His gaze came to a rest on their charge. “I need to be here, if he wakes.”

“I will be, if you aren’t. I’m just as good as you are at asking questions, and you will be back soon, right?” She gave him her most reassuring smile. “Please, brother. What would he think of us if he opens his eyes, and the very first thing he sees is Lord Ayato looking like he’s been out for a midnight swim?”

“Lord Ayato has been out for a midnight swim,” Ayato grumbled, but his lips quirked upwards. “Alright, but I’ll be right back.”

Ayaka watched him leave, and then turned her attention back to the boy, who’s breath came in uneven rattles. “Sleep as long as you need,” she whispered. “We’ll help you, when you wake up.”

The boy remained still.

***

Ayaka was shuffled out of the room once the doctor arrived, Ayato telling her to go to bed, their advisors pulling him aside for questioning. By this time, much of the estate was awake, the servants whispering and standing around in their bedclothes. Word had spread fast, no doubt the work of the guards who had witnessed their young master’s return. She heard many words, like, washed-up, and foreigner, and utter ridiculousness.

They wouldn’t dare say those things if their father was present, but he was away on business. Their mother had had passed on recently, upsetting the balance of power in the house when he was not there. Ayato was still too young to truly say anything in protest while he was away, so he was reduced to listening to the Yashiro Commission’s highest ranking members talk at him under the guise of education. Ayaka was young herself, but not stupid. She knew they were being treated as fools because they were children. Ayato knew it too, which was likely why he’d done something as drastic as bringing a shipwrecked stranger into their home.

Her tea was ice-cold when she returned to the tearoom for it, so she put the cup in for cleaning and retired to her room, where she changed into her sleepwear and laid down on plush blankets. She did not sleep. Every drop of rain against the window may as well have been a crash of thunder in itself, and her mind was a live-wire. Where had the boy come from? Had he been bound for Inazuma in the first place, or was his arrival an accident? Was his misfortune the decree of the Raiden Shogun herself, or was his survival an act of the Archon instead?

The rain was finally petering off, the sun just beginning to peek through the cloudy horizon, when a knock at her door had her sitting bolt upright. She had not slept a wink, and time felt spacey around her. “Yes?”

The door shifted. Ayato stood tall, his hair done up in a loose ponytail, straggly from where he hadn’t brushed it after drying it out. “Lord Brother,” Ayaka said, by way of formality. After, she dropped the guise entirely.  “Um, so…”

“The doctor has given me an assessment of the boy’s injuries,” he said, hands clasped behind his back. He looked far older than he actually was. Sounded it, too. She admired that about him, how he could be so calm, so collected. “Aside from the obvious, he’s cracked some of his ribs, but otherwise, is surprisingly unharmed. He regained consciousness briefly while the doctor was checking him over, but was disoriented and confused. A concussion, I’m told. At least there’s no water in his lungs.”

Ayaka nodded, taking it in one bit at a time. “Is he awake now? Can we talk to him?”

“Not just yet. He wasn’t awake long, but I think he called out for his father. The term he used—I think it was from Mondstadt’s tongue.” Ayato paused, casting his gaze downwards. “But I saw nobody else out on the shore.”

“Oh.” Ayaka knew what he was getting at; it was likely the boy’s father had perished in the shipwreck, then, if he hadn’t yet been seen. The pain of losing a parent was one she knew intimately. “What about your advisors? They’re angry with you, aren’t they?”

A wry smile. Ayato waved his hand dismissively. “When aren’t they? Leave them to me, sister. Their heads will clear soon enough. He will only be here until he recovers, and then we will send him on his way. In the meantime, I must take a few hours to rest, and so should you, seeing as I doubt you’ve slept at all.”

He knew her too well. She bade him a goodnight (despite it being early morning), and slept fitfully until a servant entered her chambers and opened her curtains, waking her with the promise of breakfast. She ate with her brother, who still looked a little worse for wear at the edges, and was prepared to go about her daily duties when he took her by the wrist.

“Brother?”

“Wait a moment, Ayaka.” He waved down the serving lady who had just piled a tray high with rice and miso soup. “You’re taking that to the esteemed guest, aren’t you? Allow us. He is my charge, and as such, I will attend to him.”

The lady’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “My Lord Ayato, I insist—”

He shook his head. “No, I insist. Please.”

Nobody in their right mind would say no to the head of the household, Ayaka knew. She’d seen it first-hand with her mother, and now, Ayato commanded that same magnetic power. The serving lady handed over the tray without another word, and Ayato gave a dashing smile. “Thank you. Now, Ayaka. Let’s go and see if our guest is hungry, shall we?”

Her heart thrummed lightly in her chest as they walked back down the corridor. She was not a nervous girl; she enjoyed talking with others, and had been raised to be social, but this was different. The boy was an unknown. An outside factor. Different to them. How was she supposed to act? What should she say? Would he even like her? He was different. Not like them. Could they even talk to each other?

She looked to Ayato, wondering if he shared her feelings. His face, however, was as unreadable as it always was. Of course; nothing could shake her boulder of a brother. It was a surprise, she thought, that the Geo Archon hadn’t chosen him for a Vision. 

“I do hope he’s awake,” Ayato said. Ahead, a guard stood by the door, as to be expected. “And I do hope he doesn’t think we’re keeping him prisoner.”

“Don’t be silly! We’ve bandaged his wounds and even given him a bed to sleep in! That’s not prison-warden behaviour!”

Ayato, to her surprise, snickered. The guard seemed surprised to see them when they arrived, but after a quick exchange, he stepped aside with a nod. Ayaka took a deep breath in, and, because her brother had his hands full with the tray, decided that she’d be the one to open the door.

To her delight, the boy was awake, sat up against the pillow with one arm wrapped around his chest, the other resting against the blanket. His eyes (bright green!) fell on them immediately, a little unfocused. In an instant, she was mesmerised by their colour. She’d seen blond hair before, but never eyes like that.

Perhaps Ayato, too, was just as enamoured with them, because he’d come to a sudden stop in the doorway. Silence stretched between them, edging just on uncomfortable. Ayaka searched desperately for something to say, and, without thinking, blurted, “Are you hungry?”

The boy blinked. For one horrible moment, she thought he hadn’t understood her, but then, recognition clicked into place. His expression softened, and he nodded. “Oh, yeah. I am. Real hungry, actually. Is that for me? Please tell me that’s for me. I could eat a boar!”

Ayaka breathed an internal sigh of relief. He could speak fluently in Inazuman, even if he wasn’t a native. Ayato seemed equally as pleased, given the small smile that had graced his face. “Have you been awake long? You should have called for someone. They would have come.”

“Would they?” The boy glanced around the room before sinking back against the pillow. “Um, I’ll be honest. My head’s real foggy. And kind of achey. I didn’t even think about it. Where am I? I can’t remember what happened…I was sailing, I know I was sailing, but then…nothing.”

“There was a storm,” Ayato said, putting the tray in front of him. The boy regarded the food with an eager expression. His free hand found the chopsticks, and, to Ayaka’s astonishment, his grip was perfect. “I found you down by the coast, drifting on wood. Does that jog your memory?”

“I wish, but, no. Nothing. Ugh.” The boy scooped up the rice, shoving a healthy amount into his mouth. Ayaka giggled into her hands. “Oh. This is good. So, uh, did you guys save me? If you did, man, I owe you my life. Like, literally. Thanks! Oh. Maybe I should keep it down. My head is so bad.”

Ayaka giggled again, even as Ayato shot her a warning look. It was becoming evidently clear that this boy had absolutely no idea who he was talking to, given his informality. Tradition dictated that new acquaintances were to greet both her and Ayato with only their titles at their first meeting, and then with their titles and their names afterwards. So far, he’d not used either.

Definitely an outsider.

“Brother,” Ayaka said. “Can we do introductions yet? He doesn’t know who we are.”

Ayato nodded. “Right, excuse my manners, my sister is correct. Esteemed guest, do you know where you are right now?”

The boy paused. “In a really comfy bed eating really nice food?”

“Yes, that, but I meant in general.”

“Oh. Well, I’m guessing I did make it to Inazuma, given the aforementioned really nice food, and the really difficult language. My brain’s barely working as it is. This is overtime!"

Ayaka’s was also working doubly hard as she desperately tried to compose herself. She could see the cogs moving in her brother’s mind as he regarded the outlander with utter confusion. He had no idea how to deal with someone of this disposition, it seemed. “You’re in the home of the Kamisato Clan, currently being attended to by the acting head of the Yashiro Commission while my father is away. My name is Kamisato Ayato.”

“And I am Kamisato Ayaka,” Ayaka added. “What’s your name?”

The boy looked between the two of them, his hand having paused halfway to his mouth. He carefully put them down, a more serious look descending over his face. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t actually understand about half of those terms, but…from what I did get, this isn’t any ordinary household, is it?”

“My sister asked for your name,” Ayato said coolly. “We will answer your questions, but you should answer hers first. And mine, when I ask you what you were doing on that boat.

“Uh, right, right, sorry.” The boy scratched at his head sheepishly, only to encounter the bandage from the night before, pulling away in surprise. “It’s Thoma. My name, I mean."

“Just Thoma?” Ayaka asked.

Thoma nodded. “Yep, and I was on that boat coming here so I could find my father. I had something to pass onto him, but…now I’m thinking about it, it probably got lost in the wreck. Ugh…everything for nothing, and now I’m a million miles away from home to boot.”

Ayato didn’t speak until Thoma was done, holding his chin in thought. Ice white stands of hair fell about his face as he tilted his head. “Satisfactory enough. Now, to answer your question, you were right when you said that this was no ordinary household. Tell me, are you aware of Inazuma’s Tri-Commission?”

Ayaka worried they were putting a little too much on their guest, considering he’d been floating out in open water only a couple of hours before, but Ayato seemed insistent on asking his questions here and now. Shifting a little on the spot, Thoma winced as he aggravated his ribs, and then shook his head. “Not really. I’ve heard it mentioned before, I think my mother's mentioned it, but, I don’t really know what it is.”

“I’ll simplify it the best I can. Three different commissions, all of which govern the state of Inazuma, led by three different clans. As mentioned before, I am heir to the Yashiro Commission, eldest son of the Kamisato Clan.”

“Huh.” Thoma looked down at the rice. “So…one of the most important guys in Inazuma just served me breakfast, is what you’re saying.”

“You could put it that way,” Ayaka said, resisting another giggle.

“…and also bandaged my wounds.”

“That was my sister,” Ayato said, looking more than a little amused now. “However, I was the one to get you into something dry.”

Thoma dropped his head into his hands. Ayaka, unable to help herself, laughed outright. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay! You needed our help, so we gave it, and now you’re on the road to recovery. Before long, you’ll be able to get to wherever it is you wanted to go, right?”

“Right…” Thoma’s voice was muffled and small. “But…uh, you’re going to want recompense, right? I mean, I wanna pay you for everything you’ve done for me! Really! But I…everything I had is in the sea. Probably. Unless it happened to wash up with me.”

Ayaka looked to Ayato for assistance on that, but he merely shrugged. “I only saw you. Regardless, we don’t require compensation. Consider this goodwill, but it will do you well to remember your place in regards to we of the Tri-Commission. I don’t mean that as a threat, but just as a general rule. My betters wouldn’t want to see me disregarding tradition. My father, especially.”

It was a thinly veiled way of telling Thoma to watch his tongue, but despite Ayato’s insistence to the contrary, it still sounded like the threat he claimed it wasn’t. Thoma lifted his head, eyes wide with something akin to alarm, and the atmosphere felt a little too heavy. They’d made him uncomfortable. Of course they had; it was inevitable, when they dealt with the common people.

But, then, he said something that derailed her train of thought entirely. “But I…I can’t just not pay you back. You saved my life!”

She stared at him, mouth agape. That was what he was worried about? Not the hierarchy, or their traditions, or the fact he was in a foreign land? Even Ayato seemed thrown; he looked at Ayaka for help that she couldn’t give him, because she had no idea how to read their new guest either.

“Maybe…maybe we could just call it a debt?” Ayaka asked, only to backtrack as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “No, that sounds too serious…how about an IOU? That way, it won’t seem so bad! We’re not going to come chasing you down. Once you’re better, you’ll be free to go, right, Brother?”

Ayato nodded. Thoma looked between the two of them, seemingly searching for something. Maybe, he was looking for the catch, the caveat, but there wasn't one. Their help had not been conditional. Such was Ayato’s way, the way he wished the Yashiro Commission to function. They wanted an Inazuma that was fair and just; helping a shipwrecked stranger had not been a charity, but a duty.

“Eat your breakfast,” Ayato said, heading for the door. It seemed that he’d judged this meeting to be over. “You will need your strength, if you want to heal. When you are ready, we’ll discuss how to get you where you need to be, but, for now, you must rest.”

“And make sure you call if you need help!” Ayaka added as she stood to follow him. “We might not be able to attend to you ourselves from here on, but the servants will come to you.”

With that, it was over. Ayato left with little fanfare. Ayaka shadowed him. When they were both in the corridor, the guard tipped his head down in respect, and said, “Your orders, milord?”

“Keep an eye on him,” Ayato replied, “but otherwise, at ease. I don’t think he means us harm. If anything, he seems almost too earnest. Not that I mind; honesty is something we could do with more of within the Commission.”

Work talk, Ayaka thought; details that she was not yet privy to, and wouldn’t be for several more years. She looked back to the door, thinking about the outlander’s fun, informal way of making conversation, his eager enjoyment of their food, and a small smile played upon her lips.

Though she’d only just left, she already wanted to speak to him again.

***

The next day, after a gruelling morning of practicing her swordplay, Ayaka snuck into the kitchen and asked the cook to assist her in making a set of onigiri.

Her mother had loved the snack, and so the cook wasn’t at all fazed by her request. Ayaka watched as she cooked the rice, and then, together, they pressed it into shape, filled it with seasoning, and wrapped it in nori. When there were eight, she took the tray, thanked the cook for her help, and took them to the outlander’s room.

Thoma was dozing when she arrived, sat upright against the pillow. His head lolled to the side, the bandage still stark white around his forehead. In his lap was an open book, which was a surprise in itself. The room was barren, with no items of intrigue. Where had he gotten that from?

He didn’t stir at her entrance, though she was relieved to hear that his breaths were steady and even. He already looked leagues better than he had the day before, a far cry from the boy slung over Ayato’s back. She smiled, reached out, and shook his shoulder gently.

Despite her careful touch, he still startled, eyes flying open and landing first on the onigiri, and then her. “Oh! Lor—wait, no, you’re his sister. Lord Ayato, and Lady Aya…Aya…oh, crap, um.”

Even knowing that he’d had a head injury, Ayaka couldn’t help but feel a little offended that he’d apparently forgotten her name. “How could you not remember, when our names are so similar?”

Thoma gave a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry, I won’t forget again if you remind me now!”

“Ayaka.” She shook her head with a huff. “And after I decided to bring you lunch, too!”

“That’s for me?” Thoma abandoned the book in an instant, wincing only a fraction as he apparently pushed himself a little too far. “Oh, man, first Ayato, now you. I’m starting to get a little worried, actually. Like, what have I done to get this kind of cushy treatment?”

As he reached for the tray, Ayaka pulled it back out of reach, ignoring the look of utter betrayal that cast itself across Thoma’s features. “Wait. Brother came to see you?”

He nudged the book with his other hand, drawing her attention to it. It was a novel of some sorts, it seemed, one of those terribly unrealistic affairs from the Yae Publishing House, judging by the overly long title splayed across its cover. “Sure did. First thing this morning, waking me up and asking me if I would like some, how’d he put it, ‘entertainment’. I didn’t really feel like dying of boredom in bed, so I said, sure, and then he dumped this thing on me. It’s...something. I think it’s about some guy who gets reincarnated as a—hey! I thought you were here to bring me lunch!”

Ayaka stared. First, at the book, and then, at Thoma himself. “My brother bought you a book.”

“Uh…yeah?”

“A book all about a milquetoast man who is reincarnated into such a fantastic, bizarre world, yet all the beautiful, interesting women fall in love with him in an instant?”

“Have you read this book before, Ayaka?”

“You weren’t listening to us at all when we told you about our titles, were you?” Ayaka said, pressing a hand to her head in exasperation. Thoma’s eyes went wide with mild alarm as he tripped over himself to correct, but she shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Actually, I quite like that you’re informal, it’s fun, but you should be careful. If you do it in here, it’s not really an issue, but if you do it when there are other people around…it could be quite troublesome for my brother, and in turn, my father.”

For a commoner, a foreigner at that, to display such utter disrespect in public, it would make her brother and father a laughing stock amidst their detractors and followers alike. Apparently, Thoma caught her intent, and nodded. “Right, um, I’ll try to remember…milady, right?”

He said it so earnestly that it dusted her cheeks in pink. Recalling the tray of onigiri that she was still holding out of his reach, she put it down on the bed in front of him, finally allowing him access. He lurched forward in excitement, only to wince and wrap an arm around his chest with a groan. Ayaka gasped. “Careful! Careful, you’re still injured. They’re not going anywhere. Here.”

She handed him one, which he took with a grin. She took her own, cupping her hands around the rice. For a moment, it was quiet as they ate, Thoma with gusto, her with a little more reservation.

“You have a bit of rice on your cheek,” she said, and to her amusement, he dashed it away with a startled look. “My brother must have taking a liking to you, if he came to see you. He even brought you a favourite book of his!”

Thoma glanced at the book, his expression hilariously troubled. Sensing his (perhaps uncharacteristic) restraint, she finished her own onigiri and said, “You should speak freely. Like I said, we’re alone.”

“Right, uh, so, no disrespect, but…this is Lord Ayato’s favourite?”

Ah, so he shared her opinion on the book, did he? “Hm? Whatever could you mean by that, Thoma?”

“It’s…so unrealistic,” Thoma said, clearly trying to find the most sophisticated way of calling it trash without actually saying that. He looked a little pained. “And the characters are…kind of shallow. Can I have another onigiri? They’re so good!”

She passed him one. “You can say it as you wish. My brother has atrocious taste in fiction!”

“I should tell him a better story. I have tons from back home!” Thoma bit into the onigiri in delight. “And, speaking of home, I should probably start figuring out how to get back…I’m here trying to find my dad, but I’ll be honest, I don’t even know where to start. Never been to Inazuma, and all...there’s a lot of islands, right? Am I on the one with the city?”

Apparently, Thoma was as fortunate as he was cheerful, Ayaka thought. He’d washed up not even ten miles from Inazuma City itself, and, when she told him this, his smile brightened up his entire face. It was infectious; she found herself grinning, even when he begged her to tell him about the other islands, just in case. Unable to deny him, she explained, at length, the intricacies of each culture. Eventually, the conversation evolved, turning into one about food and dress styles. Thoma hung onto every word, his attention captured utterly as Ayaka spun him a tale of Inazuma’s long, unchanging culture.

She loved her country. She loved its purple hues and its stormy nature. She loved its homey food and its ceremonial dress. If she could impart even a hint of that love onto an outlander, then she was doing her job as a daughter of the Kamisato Clan, but, more than that, she was having fun. Thoma interjected every now and then with an anecdote about back home, but he never said where he was from. Ayato had said he'd used a Mondstadt word, but she didn't have it from Thoma's mouth itself. She yearned to ask, but every time she got close to the question, he asked her something about Inazuma instead.

So caught up in the conversation as she was, she didn’t notice the sun crossing the sky, how the storm clouds had all drifted away by now. No, it wasn’t until a knock at the door nearly startled her off the bed that she realised how much time she had wiled away, and then, her heart sank.

“Sister?” came Ayato’s voice through the light wood. “Sister, are you troubling our guest when you still have studies to complete?”

He slid open the door before she could protest. Ayato’s hair was done up atop his head, white locks spilling from all sides, suggesting he was unwinding for the day, while his eyebrows sat high on his forehead. Ayaka stood immediately, smoothing her dress down and ducking her head. “Lord Brother…! I apologise, I only came to bring our guest lunch, but it seems like I lost track of time.”

“Huh, like brother, like sister,” Thoma commented. “Are you both bad at timekeeping?”

Ayato shot him a look that screamed, say no more! Ayaka, intrigued now, whirled on the spot to face him. “What do you mean, Thoma? My brother is always timely!”

“Not this morning, he wasn’t. He got so caught up in telling me about this book of his that he nearly missed a meeting, he said. Went running off in a panic before he even finished apologising to me.”

Ayaka turned back to her brother, planting both hands on her hips with a sly smile. “Oh! Is that true, Brother?”

“I may have been less than punctual,” he admitted, with less dignity than she would have attributed to him, “but I at least attended the meeting, which is more than I can say for your lessons. Your poor tutor was worried sick, thinking something must have befallen you.”

“The fault is mine, Lord Ayato,” Thoma said, raising his hands in surrender, a picture-perfect representation of respect. He’d come so far in a matter of hours. “Lady Ayaka was only tutoring me, actually, in the ways of Inazuma and its culture. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”

“Actually, Brother, I came to bring him lunch, and then got distracted in saving him from that drivel you call a literary masterpiece,” Ayaka said, not willing to let him take the fall for her own mistake. “Really! Making an esteemed guest read that? Were you trying to upset his head injury?”

“It’s a good book,” Ayato grumbled. “Did you enjoy it, Thoma?”

“Totally, the plot is super fun,” Thoma said it with so much energy that even Ayaka would have believed him, had he not divulged his true feelings to her previously. “The guy is so cool, too, all those powers!”

“As happy as I would be to hear that, you don’t have lie to me.” Ayato was wearing an amused smile of his own. “I can see where it lays open, and you’ve barely made it even a quarter of the way through. Between this morning and lunch, you could have gotten near the end, as short as it is. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt my feelings.”

“Really? Then…uh, yeah. Sorry, but it was pretty…not good.”

“A shame. Oh, are those a few onigiri left? Ayaka, you’re going to spoil your dinner.” Despite what he said, Ayato crossed the room and took one for himself, biting a significant chunk off in one go. “It’s gone cold…ah, well. I’m glad you both at least enjoyed yourselves. Thoma, it seems as if you have an incredible ability.”

Thoma frowned, his confusion a palpable thing. “I do?”

“Yes. You can make time fly.” Ayato stepped back to the door. “It is both good and bad. Good, in that it’s a pleasure to be in your company. Bad, in that it seems both of my sister enjoy it too much. I think it is because you’re a bit of a breath of fresh air in this house of tradition and custom.”

“Meaning you’ll be back tomorrow morning, Brother?” Ayaka said, cheekily.

“And you in the afternoon, Sister?” Ayato countered.

“Well, whatever the case, I’d appreciate the company,” Thoma cut in, making them both look his way. “Anything you wanna talk about, sure, go for it. It’ll be boring if I’m stuck in bed all day with nothing else to do. My ribs keep trying to enact vengeance whenever I try and head for just the bathroom, so I think outside’s gonna be a little while off for now.”

It was hard not to feel sorry for him, sat against his pillows with his bandaged forehead and slightly oversized sleepwear. Ayaka had an idea, then. “Well, while you’re here, my dear Lord Brother might just be able to do you a favour!” She turned to Ayato nodding resolutely. “Thoma’s here looking for his father. Do you think you might be able to track him down?

Her brother looked at her as if she’d asked him to reach up into the sky and rip down every constellation just so she could hang them in her room. “Have you seen my desk? Listened to the advisors?”

“Yes, and yes.” Ayato’s desk was eternally awash with paperwork that had built up while their mother had been sick, and their advisors always needed his ear for something or other. “I know it’s a big ask, but…it’s his father.”

She thought of her own father, who was away now at the Narukami Shrine on business, and had been for three days now. He would be away for many more, as he attended to Guuji Yae and her ministrations. Ayaka missed him; his spicy scent of incense, a warm smile, and bear hugs that made her feel entirely safe. Thoma was lost in a foreign country. If they could at least deliver him to his father, then most of his issues would be resolved in one go.

Appealing to Ayato’s sympathetic side worked, apparently. He sighed deeply, his shoulders deflating. “I’ll see what I can do, but, Thoma, that means I need some more information from you. Let’s reconvene after dinner, but I can’t make any guarantees. Especially when my schedule is as busy as it is.”

Thoma, faintly uncomfortable as seemed to be routine now when they offered him help, sank back into the pillows. “You really don’t have to do that, I’ll be okay, promise.”

“Last I checked, people weren’t supposed to look gift-horses in their mouths,” Ayato said as he turned to leave. “Accept what you’re given. We’re choosing to extend our kindness to you, and, as you’ve already said, you intend to pay us back. It’s no problem. We’ll do what we can.”

He left, beckoning Ayaka to follow, but as she glanced back at Thoma, who looked all sorts of troubled now, she wondered, had she been right in offering their help—Ayato’s help—so freely?

Or was she only making Thoma feel as though his debt was insurmountable?

***

Days passed by. Ayaka slotted Thoma into her schedule instead of visiting out of impulse, and it seemed as if Ayato had done so too, given the books that began to pile up on Thoma’s bedside. She felt sorry for him, but, at least she knew that she was there to give him reprieve from the lands of bizarre reincarnations and other worlds.

Whenever she appeared at his door, it was with a new snack, and Thoma devoured them all with equal vigour. That wasn’t to say he enjoyed them all—the monaka made him shudder—but he was always eager to try. That he was so open to their custom made her happy. She could share her foods, and not feel like she was out of place.

By this time, the gossip on the tongues of the servants began to reach her and Ayato’s ears. Not everyone had kind things to say about them entertaining an outlander the way they were, but a sharp word was enough to quell it for the moment. It was not the place of servants to question their motives; that was what Ayato said.

But, in the meantime, his hunt for Thoma’s father turned up nothing. He’d not had been granted much in the way of spare resources to dedicate to their quiet search, but what he did have proved fruitless. Even with the addition of a last name, nothing changed. Thoma only smiled when they told him that there was no news, and asked them again to not waste their time on him.

Ayato still tried.

Two weeks after Ayato had first come home with a nameless outlander slung over his back, Ayaka made her way to the kitchens to help create a new snack. She walked the corridor with her hands pressed together, an excited smile on her face. Today, she was going to show Thoma the wonders of fresh taiyaki, right off the grill.

But, when she drew near, she heard voices, one faintly accented, the other the familiar tones of their cook. Deciding not to enter immediately, she stayed at the doorway’s edge, peeking around.

Thoma was stood at the cook’s side, tall and lean, not quite her brother’s height, but far taller than her. He’d since discarded the bandages at his forehead, and all that remained now was a nasty red line that would likely scar. He was stood over two, small bento boxes at the counter, one hand at his chin as he looked on forlornly.

“Okay, so, we’ve got the onigiri made—that was fine, I could do that easy—but this is a disaster! Even after you took all that time to show me how to do the tamogoyaki, mine looks like someone smashed an egg into a boulder and called it a day!”

The cook chortled, patting him on the shoulder. “No, no, for a first attempt, it’s very good. We can’t all expect to be experts at first, these things take practice.”

Was he cooking? Ayaka looked on with wide eyes. She hadn’t seen him out of bed yet, not with his ribs still giving him grief, but apparently he’d deemed himself well enough to do something other than read. “At least I can’t mess up the salad…but, can I really give them this?”

“Haven’t you learned by now?” The cook laughed, even as Thoma sighed dejectedly. “Our Lord and Lady of the household may be nobility, but they are still human. I think your efforts will make them unfathomably happy. After all, it’s the thought that counts, and you’ve certainly thought of them.”

Ayaka smiled, hiding back behind the door. Though she felt a little guilty for spoiling Thoma’s surprise, she couldn’t help but feel warmed by the sentiment. Quietly, she abandoned her intentions of making lunch, and instead made her way to her brother’s office, where he was sat behind a mountain of paperwork with his head in his hands.

He looked his age, there, not much older than her and with all his mounting responsibilities piled up before him. “Lord Brother?” Ayaka said, tentative as she entered. “I thought I’d check in on you, but…is this a bad time?”

“A little. There is an issue regarding the trade routes in Konda Village—it looks like the work of bandits, and the merchants are struggling to get supplies through to Ritou.” Ayato lifted his head, the Hydro Vision hung around his neck catching the light of the sun spilling through the window. It was the definitive proof that her brother was not just of high birth, but also, chosen by the Archons themselves. “I'm trying to pick up the slack in father's stead, trying to wrap my head around all of it, but it seems a mess. Our advisors are talking through solutions with the Tenryou and Kanjou Commissions right now, but the former are not being particularly receptive, and the latter demand too much.”

Stressed as always, it seemed. Ayaka pulled a seat out to sit next to him, looking over the mess of papers. “I…don’t think I can help much yet, but, if you want to tell me your ideas, maybe I can just listen?”

Really, she was just killing time until Thoma inevitably came and brightened her brother’s mood, but he didn’t know that. She focused her attention on the agreements, on the mass of words, of the things she knew one day would be her responsibilities too. She and her brother had vowed, after their mother’s death, that they would take on the highs and lows of the family together.

But not until Ayaka was old enough, Ayato insisted, so for now, she sat back, took her lessons, and tried not to let it worry her.

They were deep into a discussion on how to reword their negotiations when the expected knock came at the door. For her, anyway—Ayato snapped his head up so quickly that he nearly gave himself whiplash. “You may enter?”

His tone had a questioning lilt to it, and Ayaka had to hide her smile when Ayato’s guard slid the door open. “Milord, pardon the intrusion. I’ve got the outlander out here, and he won’t listen to reason. He’s insisting that he must see you, and that he won’t leave until he does. What would you like me to do? I can remove him from the premises, if required.”

Ayato looked positively perplexed. “He’s up and around? Since when? This morning he was—”

“I think you should answer his summons, Brother,” Ayaka said, attempting to keep her tone even. “Even if it’s not customary for commoners to be summoning us at all.”

“What a dreadful example we’re setting…but I’ll admit I’ll accept the distraction.” Ayato nodded, waving a hand at the guard. “Let him in.”

The guard disappeared, and a moment later, Thoma all but burst past the sliding door, his bento boxes in hand, a near-bashful grin on his face. “Oh! You’re both here? Great! That makes things easier, actually. Um, oh, wait, I’m forgetting something, aren’t I? Lord Ayato, Lady Ayaka.” He bowed, ducking his head in respect.

Ayato stood. Ayaka did too, pleased to see the amused quirk of her brother’s lips. “Hello, Thoma,” she said.

“It’s good to see that you’re feeling better, though this comes as a surprise. You were still in bed when I came by this morning.” Ayato walked around to the front of his desk, Ayaka at his back. “What did you need, Thoma?”

“Need? Nothing. I actually came to offer my thanks.” Thoma stepped forward, holding out the two, neatly wrapped bento boxes. “You’ve both done so much for me, and, I know this isn’t a lot, but I wanted to do something small back. It, uh, isn’t the greatest, and I had to get a ton of help with it, so it’s not really all my effort, but, it’d mean a lot to me if you try and enjoy it anyway!”

Ayato crossed his arms, regarding it with suspicion Ayaka knew to be false. “Is it poisoned?”

“What? No! I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“I’m only joking, I know,” Ayato said, plucking a box out of his hands. He examined it closely, looking as close to pleased as he ever got with the gift.

“He makes it difficult to tell when he’s just playing,” Ayaka said, taking her own. “He says everything with such a straight face…but, you learn, after a while.”

“Tell that to some of the staff,” Ayato sat back at his desk, unwrapping the bento for himself to peer into it. “Oh, how charming. You’ve made all our favourites…except, what is this?”

Thoma bit his lip. “Which bit?”

“Well, I can identify the onigiri—very well made, I must say—and the salad is exceptionally well presented—the efforts of our head cook, I imagine—but this…concoction, at the side. What is it?”

Ayaka unwrapped her own. As Ayato had said, there was the onigiri, looking perfectly pressed and clean at the side. The salad was leafy and green, with little bits of tomato dotting it in colourful spots. But, the tamogayaki, on the other hand, looked thin and misshapen, and not at all appetising.

Picking out the chopsticks, Ayaka dove into it with a grin. Despite its not-so-edible appearance, the sweet taste spread across her tastebuds, beautifully balanced. “Oh! It’s good! Ayato, try some, really!”

Dubiously, Ayato poked his chopsticks into his bento box. Thoma visibly held his breath as he tried the tamogayaki, and Ayaka even paused in her own exploration of the box to see his response.

He chewed. Swallowed. Looked blankly at the box—and then, he nodded.

“She’s right,” he said. “Surprisingly, it tastes amazing.”

Thoma’s tense shoulders went slack with relief. Ayaka giggled, and, placing her box aside, went to stand before him.

“Thank you, Thoma,” she said. “Your gift is well-received.”

In an unheard-of move, Ayaka curtseyed to him, feeling her brother’s curious gaze at her back. Thoma stepped back a step, but a moment later, Ayato joined her at her side, dropping a hand on her shoulder.

“She’s correct,” Ayato said. “Thank you, indeed.”

Thoma looked between them both, his mouth opening, closing—and then he nodded, whispered, “You’re welcome,” and excused himself from the room.

***

The next morning, at breakfast, Ayaka was just bringing her green tea to her lips when her brother appeared at the doorway, holding a note in his hands. He looked sullen and disappointed, and, when she enquired after the reason, he only passed her the slip of paper.

It was written in the shaky hand of someone not used to Inazuman characters, many of them misshapen, but still legible. She cast her eyes over it, and then, once more, a sinking feeling in her chest.

It was a note of goodbye, thanking them for their kindness and hospitality, with a promise to return the debt in the future.

“He is already gone?” she asked.

Ayato nodded. “He asked to leave during the night. The guard at his door couldn’t deny him—we weren’t keeping him prisoner here, after all, as you said.”

They were not, but it still stung all the same. Breakfast was a silent affair, and as Ayaka drunk her tasteless tea, she knew that she and her brother were both thinking the same. Though their time together had been short, the outlander had left an impression on them both, and a routine had been built with him in mind. Morning, lunch, and afternoon…Thoma had been a part of it all.

They would both miss his presence.