Archive of Our Own ^beta

“This tea is delicious, Thoma,” Ayaka said with a smile. She put her tea cup down and let the flavors coat her tongue. Bitter at first, but its savory taste was quickly washing down. “Where did you get this?”

“That good?” Thoma chirped, puffing his chest out in pride. He poured her some more tea and tapped the side of his teapot. “It was a new shipment from Natlan. I had to give it a taste before letting everyone else have a go, you know?”

Ayaka tapped her chin, then tilted her head. She hid the curl of her lips behind the tea cup, then answered amicably, “I suppose.”

Her companion laughed, boisterous and carefree, fitting for a Saturday morning. Even the air was peaceful, and Ayaka wondered if they had risen for their tea break much too early for even the birds to sing. No matter though— what mattered was the fact that she was free from (most) of her duties for the day, and Thoma was wonderful, lovely company. 

Thoma allowed himself to pour another cup of tea, and Ayaka tried not to look too entertained at her friend’s blatant enjoyment of the unique leaves. “Did you know,” he started, in that telltale grandiose voice of his, “the people of Monstadt have a wine so unique to their people that even one sip of it can knock an Inazuman off their feet?”

“Are you talking about dandelion wine?” she inquired, and at his dutiful nod, Ayaka hummed. “I can’t say I’ve ever tried. Now that you’re getting a steady flow of shipments, it wouldn’t hurt to request one for a night in. Perhaps with the traveler and her little companion.”

“I’ll have some warm water on standby. Just in case,” Thoma jested, and something in his voice suggested that it was more for her than for their traveling friend. 

Ayaka pulled a slight face, though Thoma pretended not to notice by whistling and looking away in the other direction. She sighed in counterfeit irritation, and took yet another sip of her drink. It was wonderfully flavorful, with a side of spice to it that kicked her taste buds into action. Like mini fireworks on her tongue. 

Speaking of fireworks.

“You know,” she began, and Thoma glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, “we haven’t visited, the…  Naganoharas, in quite a while. It would be nice if we stopped by today and paid—”

“AYAKA!”

The loud projection made Ayaka wince, nearly choking on a mouthful of the tea. She gulped it down as best as she could, then looked at Thoma in bewilderment. When he shrugged helplessly, she glanced around her surroundings to find the source of the voice. 

She didn’t have to look far, thankfully. 

Yoimiya appeared beside their table in one singular blink, and it took her by so much surprise that Ayaka had to put a finger over her lips to keep from yelping. 

“Ayaka! There you are!” Yoimiya said happily, and the warmth that crept around her chest and neck made Ayaka uncomfortably aware of the effect Yoimiya had on her. From the way Thoma was glancing back and forth between them, so did he. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! A bunch of people kept telling me you were shopping today, and then some of them told me you were running errands for your brother, but then finally, I caught up with this samurai who told me that you spent every Saturday drinking tea on the porch of your house with Thoma, so I finally found you! Boy, I should really make him a basket or something.”

Yoimiya drew in a long breath after that, then released. She was panting, Ayaka realized, and the implication that she ran all the way here made her feel slightly, well, conflicted, to say the least. 

“It’s very lovely to see you, Yoimiya,” Ayaka said as neutrally as possible, though the slight snort from Thoma almost possessed her foot to kick him in the shin. “To what do I owe the…  pleasure?”

She tried not to think about how high her voice had gotten since Yoimiya’s appearance. 

“Oh! Easy!” Yoimiya answered. She drew herself up from her slightly bent-over posture, then grinned, wide and happy and striking Ayaka’s heart between the ribs. “I want you to kiss me!”

Ayaka almost shattered her teacup. 

“Anddd would you look at that!” Thoma said melodramatically, then accompanied his newfound revelation with a gasp. “It’s time for me to— to— do my laundry! You girls have fun without me, I’ll see you soon, Ayaka, bring back my tea set and don’t forget about your meeting at six!”

Just like that, Thoma left without another word, leaving Ayaka to stare, dumbfounded, at his back. Meanwhile, Yoimiya rocked on her heels, and from the corner of her eye, she realized that Yoimiya had been holding flowers and chocolates. 

“Pardon me?” Ayaka said, her words coming out feeling as if they were made out of chalk. 

Asking that was a bad idea, and it was a fact she noticed too soon, for Yoimiya simply replied with, “Just because! I want you to kiss me.”

“Well— I suppose, though— I don’t— I’m sorry, I don’t think I—” Ayaka tried desperately to string together a coherent sentence, but her entire situation felt as if it was formed in a dream. Yoimiya’s innocent smile and batting of eyelashes at her didn’t help either, though Ayaka knew that it was indeed not a dream, as she had been pinching herself under the table since Yoimiya’s apparent request (confession?). 

“Yoimiya,” she tried again, and tried her best to channel the firm energy that was required of her from time to time. “Why do you want to kiss me?”

Yoimiya actually looked shocked that she would ask that. “Why not?”

“Well…” Ayaka couldn’t bring forth a proper answer to that.

“So?” Yoimiya asked her, and she sounded almost hopeful. “Can you kiss me? It’s alright if it’s a no, by the way, I—”

“Then I’d say no.”

She didn’t know who was more shocked at her answer— herself or Yoimiya. 

Yoimiya scratched her head. “Can I ask why, at least?”

She sounded almost as if she was asking Ayaka about her experience at her workshop. It almost made Ayaka laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

But, unfortunately, she had no good answer. Something about the situation made her feel off, in a way, and though it was indeed coming out of Yoimiya’s mouth, it was not Yoimiya’s truest intentions. After dealing with merchants and businessmen for as long as she had, Ayaka had a radar for these kinds of things— though it confused her to wonder why Yoimiya was asking to… to…

“Oh, I never meant to back you into a corner! I’m so sorry,” Yoimiya said genuinely, and Ayaka could only blink at her. Yoimiya put the chocolates and flowers on the table, right beside Ayaka’s hand. “I was just wondering if you’d kiss me, that’s all. If you’d like me to stop, I promise I will. Your wish is my command. Or whatever it is.” And she saluted jokingly to make her laugh. 

Ayaka shook her head to clear it of other lingering thoughts. “I never told you that,” she said gently, and the words were taken out of her mouth before she could stop them. Yoimiya’s eyes glittered. “Just… I don’t think you can ask a lady for a kiss without courting her.”

It was, after all, the best excuse she could come up with while staring at the same woman who haunted her greatest day dreams. It also happened to be quite true. 

“Ohhhhh.” Yoimiya nodded thoughtfully, even going as far as to rub her chin in thought. She looked as if Ayaka’s words made perfect sense to her. 

Ayaka deflated. “So, you see—” she tried to say further, though Yoimiya beat her to it. 

“I’ll try my best and court you then!” Yoimiya announced proudly, and then puffed out her chest. 

Ayaka could only look at her helplessly as Yoimiya chattered to herself happily about her newest courting plans while counting things on her fingers and turning to Ayaka now and again to confirm if it was “something she was okay with,” and if this or that kind of explosive was okay on a date. 

Ayaka could only nod mutely to everything she said before Yoimiya took both of her hands, promised her she would try her best so she could win that kiss, and then took off with nothing but an energetic wave and a happy walk away. 

“How long have you been sitting here staring at the field like you saw a ghost?” Thoma asked her incredulously, then took his seat back in front of her. He reconsidered his words, then said, “Or, uh, a really pretty ghost?”

“I don’t know,” Ayaka answered solemnly. She took a sip of her tea. Surprisingly, it was still warm. “Though I believe that Yoimiya requested a kiss from me.”

To his credit, Thoma didn’t look even slightly surprised. He only poked the bundled flowers on the table in front of them, and declared, “Well. Good on you for not cracking right away over a first date gift. I knew it would take more than that to win you over, m’lady.”

Ayaka put her palms over her face, then slid down over her chair.

Her brother, Ayato, wasn’t keen on letting her come alone to an errand in Inazuma City. They had argued back and forth over tea, coming to a compromise of Ayaka having to bring along Thoma for the duration she was there. She loved her brother and appreciated his efforts to keep her safe, though she was a grown lady— there was no need for escorts in a city that brought her no harm. 

Though, having Thoma by her side did bring her some sort of ease. She knew no one here, at least on a closer level, and having Thoma joke and jostle her shoulder when she was much too stiff while taking on her duties was quite comforting. He was a pillar to her, another brother that was looking out for her. 

Which made it quite the conundrum when someone had to whisk Thoma away for something happening at the heart of the city. Thoma had asked her thrice if she was okay on her own, and Ayaka responded in kind each time, though her words of “I’ll do fine here” for Thoma were better said than done when she realized, almost immediately, that she had nowhere to go. 

Her duties were done for the afternoon, as her transactions with the people Ayato needed to touch base with were quite the quick talkers. She couldn’t simply leave without Thoma either, and Lumine had long sailed away back to Mondstadt to visit her friends. Ayaka was stuck, suspended in the air in a place with dozens and dozens of people walking past her and giving her smiles and waves. 

She couldn’t come up to one of them and take advantage of their hospitality while she was there! It would be rude. 

Ayaka pursed her lips, playing with the ridge of her fan. Perhaps she could order some noodles, and wait for Thoma’s return while helping the cook clean off the dishes for the night. 

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing all alone in the street?” Yoimiya asked her kindly. 

Ayaka turned her head quickly, her mouth dry and practically glued shut with the inability to speak.

Yoimiya only tilted her head slightly towards her, an oblivious smile still graced on her lips as she waited for Ayaka to speak. The golden sunshine behind her illuminated the ornaments in her hair, and she was quite grateful for the practices in discipline back at home. She tore her eyes away almost forcibly. 

Ayaka, thankfully, composed herself before Yoimiya could grow concerned. “Good afternoon, Yoimiya,” she said, and she held back an inner wince at the formalities that stayed on her tongue. She almost apologized for it, but instead continued, “What brings you to Inazuma City?” That was a safe question to ask. 

Yoimiya’s lips curled even more with it, though it left Ayaka slightly confused. Did she say something funny? “Oh, you know…” Yoimiya waved her hand dismissively, though the other one rested behind her back. What an odd placement, Ayaka mused. “Sight-seeing, restocking on gun powder, yadda yadda.”

“Sounds like you have quite a lot on your plate,” Ayaka commented, frowning slightly. “Are you sure you don’t need to be somewhere right now?”

“Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?” Yoimiya asked her, drawing a gasp from her chest. She put a hand on her heart, looking wounded.

Ayaka backtracked as fast as possible. “Oh no, of course not,” she said quickly, shaking her head just as fast. “I was only concerned, on the assumption that I was distracting you from your errands.”

Yoimiya laughed. Ayaka stood there once more, wondering how she had gotten so humorous in the past few hours. “I got everything my pops needed to fix the roof. I’m free,” Yoimiya assured her, though the twinkle in her eyes was much too mischievous even for Ayaka. “Actually, I saw Thoma down the street trying to fix a hole in a boat with my friend, and he told me he came here with you. I went looking for you.”

“For— for me?” Ayaka stammered. She fiddled with her fan by her hip. 

“Yep!” 

Lavender tickled the bottom of her nose. Ayaka blinked, then looked back up at Yoimiya’s big, proud smile. “I couldn’t find anything better,” she admitted. 

“Anything better?” Ayaka echoed. She took the lavender wordlessly, mostly due to the shock. 

“I found these on the way back,” Yoimiya explained. “I was making some chocolates back home, but some of my special firework powder accidentally got knocked into it, so there’s no dice there. I’ll make you some more, if you like them.”

“I…” Ayaka’s mouth felt as if she stuck a cotton ball in it. “Well, I did enjoy the sweets you gave to me the other day. Though, I don’t think it would be paramount for you to need to make them again.”

Yoimiya nodded thoughtfully to her words. “Right, right. You said I had to do more than give you flowers and chocolates,” she said solemnly.

Alarmed, Ayaka said, “Oh, I never—”

“Thankfully, I just got the thing!” Yoimiya said, puffing out her chest proudly. She held her hand, palm up, smiling reassuringly. “Do you have any time to come see something with me?”

“I… suppose, yes, though—” Ayaka blinked. “Can I at least inquire where we are going?” Despite her words, she took Yoimiya’s hand, her lavenders still clutched in the other. 

Yoimiya winked. “You’ll see. Promise I’m not taking you anywhere creepy though.”

Yoimiya’s hand was warm, almost hot to the touch, as if she spent the morning tending to hot coals. They were callused as well, especially underneath the knuckles and in between the webbings. In spite of it, Ayaka found herself enjoying the feeling, committing herself to memorize every palm line and callus granted to her while they walked through the streets and through the dirt paths. 

It was, well, a little concerning to trust one girl this much, especially with the name she carried, but Ayaka couldn’t find it in herself to care— she had been acquaintances with Yoimiya for as long as she could remember, and it was a miracle that her wish to become friends with the eccentric pyrotechnician had been granted on such arbitrary circumstances. 

In fact, it was such a relief to be acting so close to Yoimiya now that Ayaka could quietly forget Yoimiya’s oddball behavior from the day before. 

“Oh— we’re here!” Yoimiya said excitedly. She turned to look at Ayaka, dropping their hands in the process. Ayaka tried her best to gulp down the golf ball sized lump in her throat. She didn’t even notice that they had walked all the way to an empty field outside of the city. “Can you close your eyes for me?”

“Sorry?” 

“Like this, silly,” Yoimiya answered happily. She put her hands over her eyes, then pulled them down. “But no peeking, obviously. Nobody likes peekers,” she accused gently. 

Ayaka laughed softly. She couldn’t help it. The entire situation unfolding before her was something breathed out of a silly dream. 

Yoimiya took the lavenders still clutched firmly in her hand gently. She put them down on the grass, then wrapped her fingers around Ayaka’s wrists gently to bring them up to her face. Ayaka complied. 

Yoimiya circled behind her, gentle hands resting on her shoulders to steer her in the right direction. “Where are we going?” Ayaka asked her, though not in an accusing manner. 

“Telling you would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?” Yoimiya asked her. “Plus, the surprise is half the fun!”

Ayaka let her steer a couple feet in front of her, until they stopped. The wind caressed her cheek like a tender lover, the gentlest of seasons out of the year. She could feel Yoimiya’s soft breath blowing onto her neck, and the feeling almost made chills come up and down her spine. She didn’t know if it was even okay to feel so comforted by it. 

Yoimiya giggled behind her. “You can open your eyes now.”

Her cheeks glowed with warmth. “Oh.”

She removed the hands covering her face, then blinked to let herself adjust to the light. 

They were overlooking a small cliff, and below was a small patch of sand that was manipulated to spell out the words, “Can I have a kiss from you?” 

The words were written into the sand in scrangly writing, one that Ayaka had seen only once or twice in her life through slips of papers she had to bring during festival duties, though it was undeniably Yoimiya’s. 

And, through the embarrassment and the disarrayed thoughts that whizzed past her brain, Ayaka realized that Yoimiya hadn’t been joking the day before. 

It was hard to discern how she felt about it. 

“Too much?” Yoimiya asked her, laughing slightly. There was a hint of nervousness in her words, however, and Ayaka could see her scratching her collarbone from her peripheral vision. 

“I wouldn’t say that. Explicitly,” Ayaka told her. She didn’t know what else to say. She looked between the words in the sand and Yoimiya’s proud face, then back to the words and back to Yoimiya. 

Yoimiya took her silence as rejection. “It’s okay if it’s no,” she said quickly. “You just said— the other day, that I had to court you. I, uh, didn’t actually know what that meant.” She laughed out of embarrassment. “So I asked some of the kids down the river for some ideas and they all told me to do this. They said I had to ask you in a romantic way, and it made sense. Kinda.”

“How old were these kids?” Ayaka questioned.

“Like. Between eight and ten. And an ambiguously aged oni,” Yoimiya answered honestly. She tilted her head. “Why?”

“I was only wondering,” Ayaka said, though she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Of course the kids would put her up to this. She shook her head, then walked a few steps closer to the end of the cliff. 

By being this much closer, Ayaka could see the outlines of candles formed in a heart around those words, lighting it up towards the sky. It warmed her heart, though a question still plagued her mind. 

She turned to look at Yoimiya, who was watching her about an arm’s length away. Yoimiya said, an edge of warning in her tone, “You know, you’re making me a little nervous— I don’t want you to fall down the cliff or anything.”

“Oh. Of course.” Ayaka scooted away from the end of the cliff to her heeding. Then she took a deep breath, played with the end of a string on her hip, and asked her, “Did those kids— the ones who told you to do this— tell you to ask me this?” 

“Ask you what?” Yoimiya frowned slightly, then looked down at the sandy words below them. It seemed to click for her, and her eyebrows jumped up. “Oh! No, nonono— of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Well…” Ayaka felt warm underneath her collar. She didn’t know how to say, I thought those kids told you to kiss me as a dare as kids always do, without offending Yoimiya. 

So, logically, the best plan was to say nothing at all. 

“Sooo…” Yoimiya rocked on the back of her heels. “Is that a no? A maybe later?”

“It’s an…” Ayaka hesitated. Her fingers rubbed on the fabric of her fan. 

How was she supposed to respond? Yoimiya asking for a kiss was in pretty much every daydream she ever had about the woman— but at the same time, for her to ask out of the blue like this… she knew better than anyone that people had motives. But she also wasn’t bold enough to outright ask, even though Yoimiya had reassured her that the request was by her own volition. Perhaps it wasn’t, and there was something else Yoimiya wanted from her, but it was something she needed to figure out on her own. 

Which was especially difficult to navigate, a dilemma that made her feel like Thoma on his second glass of milk, because Yoimiya was the most honest woman she had ever met. But her reason, “Only because I want to,” was something Ayaka couldn’t wrap her mind around, or even believe. 

So what was her reasoning for such a… brazen request?

“I think you would need to try harder,” Ayaka blurted out. 

Once it was out of her mouth, she had to fight the urge to turn away and run, never to be seen again. 

Why did she say that? 

Though Yoimiya didn’t seem to find anything upfront or embarrassing about it. Instead, she squinted, rubbing her chin and looking as if she was pondering to herself. “Hmm… you’re right!” Yoimiya said, her eyes lighting up. “I can’t just ask for a kiss from you. I need to deserve it! Right? So, how should I go about doing that?”

“Um…” Ayaka’s mind drew a complete blank. She hoped she could make it all the way back to the Estate in one piece, without needing to collapse in on herself. Say something! Anything! she begged herself. 

“Romance me enough for you to be deserving of a— of one,” she said quickly, and the urge to run off the cliff was becoming enticing. 

“Ohhh!” Yoimiya said. She nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll try and go do that!” 

Without another moment to spare, Yoimiya held out her arm. “Shall I escort you back to the city, Miss Kamisato?” Yoimiya asked her in a grandiose tone, and Ayaka gaped at her in both amusement and disbelief. Yoimiya only giggled and took a step closer to her. “You’re supposed to take my arm so I could walk you back,” she whispered.

Ayaka, embarrassed and rendered mute, took her elbow with both hands and kept her chin low. 

Yoimiya hummed the entire way back. “I’ll give you back your flowers when I bring you to Thoma,” she said happily. But then she scratched the side of her neck, looking quite a little sheepish. “But… that might take a while.”

“What do you mean?” Ayaka asked. 

Yoimiya’s smile was shrewd. “I think… maybe… I got us a little lost.”

Ayaka opened her mouth to respond, but Yoimiya quickly got out, “Or! Maybe! I did this on purpose! Y’know, so we can spend more time together. But you’ll never know that.”

Yoimiya laughed for her own sake, turning her head away from Ayaka to look left and right between the streets. 

Ayaka sighed, though she surprised herself when a slight laugh bubbled from her chest. She hid her face on Yoimiya's shoulder. 

What was she thinking? 

With the pressure on Ayato and his hands more than tied behind back, Ayaka felt as if it was her duty to help her brother in any capacity she could. 

Unfortunately, that meant days and long nights writing delicate footnotes and sealed letters to men from every corner of Inazuma, and bundles of candles that kept her the most consistent company she could hope for. Lumine had a heart big enough to come see her at least once a day after her commissions, but the poor traveler had duties of her own that kept her just as busy.

At night, long after everyone fell into deep sleep and the sounds of campfires in the distance crackled like the twigs under shoes, Ayaka had ample time to herself. She often used it to stitch something new, or to read new recipes under the glow of a brand new candlestick with the determination to get it right in the morning. 

She cherished the quiet nights and the company of the moon. It was all a lovely routine to her. 

Though, She didn’t bother to remember the sounds of tapping against the side of her wall as a part of it. 

Ayaka squinted in its direction, freezing in place out of fear that it was a potential threat. It sounded persistent, but quiet enough that Ayaka knew the intent was to signal her, not harm her. She relaxed enough to let go of the parchment she was clutching and tilted her head to listen harder. 

The tapping grew louder, and then the night stilled. Only the sounds of the drafting wind passed through her window, and for a moment Ayaka wondered if her lack of sleep was causing her to hallucinate auditory things. 

She rose slightly from her seat, crouching over to ensure her body couldn’t be seen as easily through the slit in her window. She had opened it for the breeze, though she couldn’t help the grimace that came onto her face from the foolishness of believing that such a time for her could allow such perilous behaviors. 

The sudden thump against her wall made Ayaka loosen a strangled noise out of surprise, and she fell directly on her shoulder blades. 

There was a muffled “Sorry!” split between her and the wall. 

Ayaka’s breath caught. 

“Yoimiya?” she whispered to the wind. 

There was a pause. And then, “Can you come to the window for a quick minute? Pleeease?”

Before Ayaka could respond, either verbally or physically, Yoimiya’s muffled voice came about again. “I promise I’m not here to kidnap you or anything! If you were worried about that!”

Perhaps it was the sheer absurdity of it, or the fact that she was certain the sun would rise at any moment, but Ayaka almost let out a giggle. 

Instead, she called to the window, “If not for theft, what are you here for then?”

She could practically hear Yoimiya huff. “Well, you, silly. Can you come out now?”

It was ridiculous to have such a thing bring a delicate blush to her cheeks. However, Ayaka tried her best not to let that deter her, and she used her elbows to pick herself up. She brushed off the invisible crumbs on her lap and stretched her fingers, a nervous habit that she couldn’t seem to shake off, even in the presence of someone so comforting. 

Ayaka hooked her fingers on the edge of the window and peered down. 

Well, down, as much as it is to stare directly into Yoimiya’s face. 

Startled, Ayaka almost lost her balance, though Yoimiya’s reflexes were much quicker than she anticipated— warm fingers hooked on her wrist, gentle enough to be respectful and to let Ayaka wiggle out if she so wished but tight enough to keep a hold on her. 

“I can’t have you falling on our potential first date!” Yoimiya said with a joking pout. Her features softened for a moment and her grip lessened. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I was just— a bit stunned.” Ayaka blinked. She got her bearings after her heart rate began to calm down, and she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Yoimiya’s smile faded just a bit. She could barely tell in the shrouded darkness of the twilight, but she could pinpoint that sparkling smile anywhere. It made it more than shocking to see it look so dull.

“I know it’s an inconvenient time and all, but I just couldn’t wait to come here and tell you,” Yoimiya babbled on. She was wringing her hands and looking from side to side, and it made Ayaka wonder if she had suddenly become nervous. “I was going to leave this letter at the front, but when I passed by your window, I could see this tiny little candle light and I thought, ‘Oh! Maybe she’s awake!’ so I came by to see if you were, and you were! I’ll obviously let you have your beauty sleep in a second, I just thought it would nicer to tell you in person; I could still leave the letter with you instead if you want, or if you’re too sleepy or something, because I totally get it, I bet you were—”

“I’m not tired,” Ayaka said. Her mouth dried when Yoimiya stopped, scrunching her brow and tilting her head at her as if waiting for her to continue. She didn’t know she was supposed to say anything else, or why she said that in the first place. Ayaka scraped a coherent explanation as best as she could. “You could tell me now, if you would like. I was planning to stay up longer to peruse some scrolls.” 

Which was a blatant lie, considering how heavy her eyelids felt, but there was no way she’s going to let Yoimiya go through all that trouble coming here to leave something as miniscule and delicate as a letter. 

“Well, you should definitely think about going to sleep soon anyway,” Yoimiya said sagely, and she nodded to herself in thought. She scratched the side of her jaw, mulling over her words with a hum. Then she said, “Here. I’ll give you the letter anyway, in case you forget anything I said. I was going to ask you out on a date.”

“Oh. I see.” Ayaka nodded her head to that, whilst Yoimiya smiled at her. And then the word date passed through her brain like electricity in a live current, and her entire body stilled. “I see,” she repeated, though the words didn’t seem to fit correctly in her mouth. 

“Yup! And I was wondering if seeing a wandering theatre troupe would be something you’d like to do with me in a couple days,” Yoimiya continued, and she bobbed her head along to her thoughts. She put her forearms on the window sill, her face so close to Ayaka that she was almost certain her lungs would be pulled away from her chest from the proximity. “Can’t take you somewhere you wouldn’t enjoy, I mean— what kind of date would that make me?” she joked. 

“An inconsiderate one?” Ayaka answered, and she didn’t know why Yoimiya smiled at her like the way she did. She was only answering. 

Languidly, Yoimiya slipped her a small envelope, with a scrawled name in the middle with red ink. The flap was sealed tightly shut, and though Ayaka couldn’t tell what was inside, the density of it told her that there was more than just a slip of paper. 

“So, what d’you think?” Yoimiya asked. 

“What do I think?” Ayaka echoed. 

“About seeing a theatre troupe with me, silly!”

“Oh.” To say she was flustered was an understatement. “I wouldn’t mind it at all. I believe I’d enjoy it, really.”

“Great! I’ll come get you here and take you there soon. Sleep well!” Yoimiya hopped away from the window and waved her goodbye, flashing her the biggest smile Ayaka had ever seen. It looked especially pretty, especially underneath the cool breath of the night and the shadow of the moonlight. It helped bring out her eyes and the curve of her lips. 

With Yoimiya gone into the night, and with slight regrets in her heart from not being able to reciprocate a goodnight, Ayaka carefully opened the envelope with a small dagger left on her bedside.

The first page held true to Yoimiya’s word: a simplistic explanation about taking her to a theater troupe that was nearby, and the date and time she carefully selected (they would leave at sunset and spend the night watching the troupe, the most perfect of times in her humblest opinion). 

The next two pages, however, held long, spiraling lines of poems that Ayaka could tell had taken Yoimiya quite a while to create, edit, and strike through. It held the bulk of the entire letter, and yet the weight on her heart was twice as much. 

It was childish scribbles, with a meter that Ayaka could barely keep track of, lines that were struck through over and over, and rhyme schemes that could barely make sense even as she sounded it out to herself. But, as… humbling as the poetry was in the hands of the daughter of a pyrotechnician, it was just as sweet. It was the fact that Yoimiya had cared to try, to perhaps ask around the city to ask about the poetry that hoists up her shelves, that touched her heart so gently. 

Ayaka folded the paper as nicely as she could, making sure to go along the creases to leave the poem as untainted as she could. 

She blew out her candle and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

Her dream began when she opened her doors to a humming Yoimiya, who sat on the very last step of her stairs and rested her weight on her elbows. She turned her head around to smile widely and openly at Ayaka, eyes that lit up like the fireworks she was more than associated with. It made Ayaka smile back, maybe not as wide as the girl who waited patiently for her, but just as genuinely (or at least, she hoped). 

Yoimiya sprang upwards, nearly startling her out of her wits. Ayaka caught herself in time however, and Yoimiya continued chugging on with whatever was on her mind. She offered her hand, which Ayaka took mindlessly. “It shouldn’t be too far of a walk from here if you don’t mind it. I can take your mind off the road with some sightseeing games I teach the kids when I have to escort them home,” she said, just as cheerfully. 

The implication that Ayaka was going to be treated the same as a child should have scathed her wrong, though the honesty in Yoimiya’s voice made her think less of it. In fact, it seemed rather sweet, and it made her laugh when Yoimiya began to babble on about the innings and goings of her day without a moment’s hesitation. 

Yoimiya had successfully taken her mind off of the twenty minute walk across the road, and it was a fact that shouldn’t have been as surprising as it should be. Ayaka swore the conversations in which Yoimiya made her look for colors or things in the woods would last less than a minute, but she was more than thankful for the distraction. Despite it, she couldn’t help but feel slight remorse for the lost time— she had prepared twelve different conversation prompts to raise between them to get to know Yoimiya more, though her games were more than enough to fill the silence. 

She wasn’t able to mourn as long as she thought so, fortunately, considering the roadside theater troupe was only beginning to set up. Their makeshift benches were only half full, and Yoimiya gently tugged her by a hooked finger to the very front steps. 

Ayaka was flustered. She never had the gall to sit so close up, she had been taught to sit in the middle or at least a step away from the first row of seats, as the ones at the front were subject to those who wished to volunteer.

But, knowing Yoimiya and how she was so adamant in coming to see this particular theater troupe, perhaps that was the case with her. It only flustered her more to think about, so she tried her best to keep her mind off of it. 

It wasn’t hard with Yoimiya, a walking jaybird that spoke when looked at. 

“I didn’t get the chance so ask about you,” Yoimiya began, and she tapped her chin thoughtfully, “so tell me all about what you’ve been up to. Did I miss anything while I was gone?”

Ayaka picked at a hangnail on her lap. She racked her mind for anything besides the boring side of her life (which was most of it, might she add), but there was nothing else there. So, she opt to say, “Just the usual, unfortunately.”

Yoimiya cocked her head to the side, brow scrunched as if she thought Ayaka was teasing her. “How’s your brother?” she asked, and unlike the many diplomats she met on the road, she sounded completely genuine. 

“You know how he is,” Ayaka said with a shake of her head, though she smiled underneath it. “He’s balancing work better currently, thank goodness, but I still worry for him. He doesn’t ask for help when he needs it.”

The corner of Yoimiya’s eyes crinkled. “Reminds you of someone, huh?” she teased. 

Ayaka raised her eyebrows. She contemplated it for a moment but shook her head when nothing came up. “I don’t believe I know who you’re speaking of, Yoimiya,” she said apologetically. 

Yoimiya only laughed, as if it was an inside joke between them. She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it,” she said instead, and there was nothing sinister behind her voice, so Ayaka relaxed. “They go over their lines for a while, then take a couple minutes to set things up, so I’d say we have… maybe a gooddddd fifteen minutes? You can tell me more than just that if you’re up for it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” Ayaka said politely, though the conversation starters zipped through her mind at lightning speed. “We could talk about anything else that you’d prefer. I’m sure my discussions wouldn’t be as interesting as yours.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Yoimiya said. She leaned a little closer and bumped her shoulder playfully. The benches around them were beginning to chatter and fill up, and some were glancing at them in mild curiosity. It would seem quite odd to find Ayaka doing something as mundane as watching a roadside play, especially beside such a rambunctious character compared to herself. 

Ayaka almost never believed it herself, especially under the connotations that Yoimiya had brought her here as a date. 

A date. 

Oh. 

This was a date. 

Somehow, the revelation struck her right in the chest, and Ayaka nearly fell over the unsteady bench. Yoimiya kept her hand on her forearm, steadying her as best as she could. She could hear her name be faintly called in the sudden catastrophe. 

She was steadied enough to lay a hand on her chest, and she shook her head when Yoimiya began to fuss over her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You scared me!” she chastised, though the worry was thick in her voice. 

“I’m fine. Fine,” Ayaka said, though she sounded as if she was trying to justify it to herself just as much to Yoimiya. “I just remembered something rather— odd?”

“Oh, like what?” Yoimiya asked her curiously. She seemed to think about it for a moment, unwrapping her fingers around Ayaka’s arm once she was sure that she was stable, and then lit up like a candle. “Were you thinking about my poem?”

“Your— oh.” Ayaka felt her face flush. 

“It’s not the best thing in the world, I know,” Yoimiya said with a shrug, and she didn’t seem as hurt by it then Ayaka would have been. In fact, she was smiling. “Did it make you laugh though?”

“You were trying to make me laugh?” Ayaka couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice even if she tried. 

“Well, yeah. I know you like poetry, but I suck at it so—” Yoimiya giggled. “Did it make you feel better?”

Endlessly, Ayaka wanted to say. 

But she opted for, “Considerably. Thank you.”

“‘If you can’t make the girl you like laugh, then you’re no better than an unfinished tube of gunpowder,’” Yoimiya recited in a deep voice. “That’s what my pops used to tell me. Comes in kinda handy, huh?”

“He has a lot of wisdom,” Ayaka said sincerely, and Yoimiya seemed to find that funny. “It reminds me a bit of Thoma. Though, I think he’d say something about a bowl of food more than anything else as a metaphor.”

Ayaka expected her to laugh at that. It was the closest semblance to a joke she could bear to make that night, but it was the only thing that had the opposite effect of a laugh or a scrunched smile from Yoimiya; instead, she tilted her head and made a slight face, as if she just had a bowl of Ayaka’s charcoal bowl of pizza (or, that’s what she believed it was called). 

“Ugh, Thoma,” Yoimiya said, and Ayaka’s confusion only deepened. The last she heard from them, they had seen each other in a much better light than Yoimiya was currently portraying. In fact, they were on the same team during a food fight the week before. 

The crowd around them began to chatter louder. Perhaps the troupe was almost ready to start their first scene, but Ayaka wanted to know the cause of Yoimiya’s soured mood before they began. It worried her to no end. Had she said something offensive? Did Thoma do something unforgivable to her that she wasn’t aware of?

She couldn’t think of something sensible to ask, however, so all that came forth from her mouth was a meek, “Are you jealous of Thoma?”

Before she could take it back and play it off as a slip of the tongue, Yoimiya said, “Of course I am!”

Ayaka blinked. The spotlights surrounding the area were beginning to dim. “You are?” was her meek response. 

“Yeah,” Yoimiya answered with a bob of her head. She groaned. “He gets to spend so much time with you, all the time! And he doesn’t even have to do anything! If I could do that, do you know how awfully grateful I’d be? I’d be baking you cookies everyday just to show it! And he doesn’t even do anything like that.” She pouted, only slightly, but enough for Ayaka’s lips to pull slightly at the corners. 

“So you still like him?” Ayaka asked tentatively. 

Yoimiya pssshed. “Of course I do. I need his cannon arm if I wanna survive during a food fight,” she said dismissively, demonstrating by flexing what little muscle she had left and pointing at it. At least, that’s what Yoimiya probably assumed she was doing, but all Ayaka could think of was the amount that was there. “I’m just jealous about how much time he gets to have with you, and he never even mentions it! Even when I ask! It’s like he doesn’t know how nice it would be to spend that much time with you.”

“I… don’t think anyone would,” Ayaka said bemusedly. She had to clear her throat.

Yoimiya looked astonished at that. “Are you kidding? I would kill to be with you for an entire day! I could only ask your brother to let you off for today after a wholeeeee ton of pleading.”

“You asked my brother?” she asked again, and she didn’t know why that fact was making her face feel as hot as it was. 

“‘Course I did.” Yoimiya acted as if she had asked for a scoop of ice cream at an ice cream vendor. Yoimiya’s face scrunched in thought. “You know what’s weird? He just laughed and asked me to take care of you. Who wouldn’t?”

Before Ayaka could answer, the lights lowered, a hush came over the crowd like an unspoken rule, and Yoimiya’s knuckles brushed over the wrist on her lap faintly, but enough to drive a spark into her stomach. Ayaka shifted her weight subtly, but Yoimiya glanced over at her and smiled. 

It only took five minutes into the soliloquy for Ayaka to understand why Yoimiya was so adamant on getting her to watch. 

It was a sweet love story, told with exaggerated body language and masks for the audience dozens of seats away from them; yet, even up close, Ayaka found herself entranced with the performance in front of her. 

Yoimiya would nudge her now and again to whisper something in her ear, usually about a fact about one of the actors that she somehow had gotten to be acquainted with, or to make her laugh in between the long monologues that would get the man beside them yawning and snoring. They were shot dirty looks and shushes in the crowd when they giggled too hard, but Ayaka, for once in her life, couldn’t find it in herself to feel half as embarrassed as she usually would be. 

The thought of her being where she was now just yesterday would have mortified her to no end, though she didn’t know if it was the idea about going on a date with Yoimiya that would have struck a chord with her or the mere fact that she was relaxed, giggly, and without a single nervous bone in her body. 

It was like Yoimiya had charmed her from the moment she sat down (or even before then, when they were walking down the stone road and Yoimiya’s knuckles would brush so faintly against hers), and Ayaka didn’t dare lift a finger to try and fight that. 

“You have a really nice laugh,” Yoimiya said, mere minutes before the end of the first act.

It had caught her off guard, but Ayaka was thankful for the reflex to get out a simple, “Thank you.”

Ayaka was a fool to think that was the end of her simplistic charms. 

Yoimiya had touched her knee after the lights came on to tell her to stay put, then came back sooner than she expected with armfuls of snacks that spilled over her elbows. Once Ayaka had taken some to lighten her load, Yoimiya gave her a toothy grin and complimented her kindness. 

It was a simple compliment, one that Ayaka was more than familiar with, but she couldn’t stop the blush from spreading across her face. She hid it well behind her fan, behind the facade of a hot night, though Yoimiya hadn’t thought to finish with her just yet. 

The actors came back on stage, and despite the thousands of warning looks tossed their ways when Yoimiya leaned over, Yoimiya persisted. 

There was a, “I think I already told you, but you look really pretty today,” tossed her way, one that made her sink further into her seat like molten mochi. 

Then a “I like the face you make when you concentrate,” followed by a “Your voice is nice,” after she explained a metaphor to her, then a quick “Your hands are soft,” after Yoimiya held them during an intense battle scene between the love interest and her rival.

They kept on pouring out, one after another, and Ayaka’s “Thank you”s became quieter and higher with each compliment. Yoimiya didn’t seem to notice, or at least she was good at pretending, because each quick aside that came from her was just as genuine as the other. 

How could she say those things with such confidence?

Was it the confidence of a practiced lie or a kind ingenuity that was only unique to Yoimiya?

She tilted to the latter. Ayaka was almost certain that Yoimiya had never told a lie in her life, unless it was to lift the spirits of the children running through the streets or to protect a person she barely knew. She rewrote the statement in her mind: Yoimiya had never told a selfish lie in her life. 

It made her think about the request from long ago. Was she serious, then? Ayaka tried not to think about it. Instead, her focus came onto the characters being played out in front of her. The noble woman had been wounded in her sleep, and she was being caressed by the woman she loved. Every person in the audience was on the edge of their seats, and so was she. 

Yoimiya stayed relaxed where she was, fingers hooked underneath the wood and tapping her foot to the beat of the solemn drum behind the stage. She leaned over. 

Ayaka could see the tattoo on her chest from the way she leaned over, and a brief spasm of a thought passed through her mind to reach over and trace a gentle nail, but she zapped it away just as quick as it came to her. 

There was a whispered “Come closer,” to the crying lover. The dying woman wished to tell her something. 

Ayaka felt Yoimiya’s hand curl into hers. It loosened a breath from her chest. 

It was a simple request for a kiss. 

Ayaka was hyper aware of the girl next to her now. Her warmth wasn’t suffocating, by any means, but it left her stomach in knots. She didn’t know what to do besides watch the rest of the play, in which the dying lover was saved by some sort of magic she could barely pay attention to, other than the fact it appeared moments after she was given an ardent kiss on the lips. 

Once the play ended and the actors gave their regards, Yoimiya escorted her home under the moonlight and the shine of the fireflies that reflected the toothy smile of the giggly girl making jokes beside her. It was a beautiful night, as Ayaka usually thought so, but it was especially gorgeous like this, with her heart just as fluttery as those flighty lightning bugs around them. 

They stopped in front of the Kamisato Estate. Yoimiya took both of her hands, gave her a smaller smile and asked, “Did tonight earn me a kiss from you?”

Ayaka knew the question was coming, some way or another. It didn’t stop her heart from doing a flip and her mouth becoming dry in a single blink. She was grateful for the anticipation, for the words that came out of her mouth were practiced from her reeling it over and over in her mind during their walk back. 

“I’m tempted to say yes,” Ayaka told her candidly, “but you need to do more than give me one date for me to consider it.”

Yoimiya didn’t look even half as dissatisfied as she braced herself for. She only tilted her head, the light in her eyes flickering in the dance of the lantern lights. It was as if Ayaka told her something funny.

“Playing hard to get, huh?” Yoimiya joked, and Ayaka detected no sarcasm or embittered farce from behind her words. “You make a really great point, actually. I’ll make sure to come back soon! You have a good rest of your night, Ayaka.”

Yoimiya squeezed her hands once, and for a moment Ayaka thought she would bring them up to her lips and kiss, just as the charming princes did in her novels. She almost wanted it to be true. 

Only Yoimiya dropped them, and she waved goodbye with a warm, honest smile, and Ayaka came back indoors with a sigh and hands clutched over her chest as if she was sent into a towering love spell. 

Her brother questioned if she was sick due to her behaviour, but Thoma pushed him away with a knowing smile thrown to her, and Ayaka looked away. 

If her notebook becomes full of disarrayed thoughts about Yoimiya and her bright, shiny honesty and the terrifying notion that it comes with, only the birds in her trees will know about it. Ayaka made sure of it. 

No one can know, maybe quite as especially as herself, that Yoimiya’s tendency for candor and her requests for blatant displays of affection for Ayaka was making her feel lost. 

Yoimiya, as to come with no surprise, was true to her word. 

Ayaka woke up the next morning with the people around her in disarray, and a bouquet of lovely, picked flowers sitting on her table with a scrawled tag. 

It was almost unfortunate that Ayaka had to toss it out in the end, for the flowers themselves had hidden bees that no one seemed to be aware of, until it was too late. Yoimiya was more than apologetic to find that out, and she reimbursed Ayaka with a trinket from a side market and a mournful, “I guess I don’t get a kiss for that.”

A couple days later, Yoimiya caught Ayaka while she was making her way back home. They chatted for a while, and Ayaka’s heavy shoulders began to lighten at Yoimiya’s intertwined jokes and being around her easy-going personality. 

It was a lovely, comforting walk, until two men began to shout distantly behind them and Yoimiya, the quick thinker, scooped her up bridal style and carried her without struggle to the nearest tree. 

They hid there for as long as they could, with Ayaka holding onto her for dear life and Yoimiya’s soft breath tickling her neck while they both looked back and forth. Ayaka was so close to her that Yoimiya’s ringed tattoo was staring right at her, enough for her to reach over and trace gently, just as she wished during the performance with the theater troupe.

The fact Yoimiya was holding her up, her muscles still tense, accentuated the shades of her tattoo even more, and Ayaka gulped. Looking away wasn’t any better, as the tattoo on Yoimiya’s chest wasn’t good for idle ideas when she was being pressed so close. 

Once the men had long disappeared, their intentions still unclear, they both laughed it off, despite their hearts beating a thousand miles into the distance.

“Scooping you up and saving your day doesn’t happen to give me one free ticket to a kiss, would it?” Yoimiya asked her, her eyes mischievous as it always was. Her silly behavior calmed Ayaka down, which was an odd predicament— her question usually raised her heart rate.

“Kiss me?” she clarified once more, and they only laughed it off. 

Ayaka hadn’t been able to stop thinking about their proximity, and the way her lips moved to the question, for days.

Days after that, Yoimiya had showed up at her door right after her morning duties with children clamoring around her. The children giggled at the sight of Ayaka, and they began to whisper among themselves in earnest. Ayaka was instantly self-conscious of her actions, though Yoimiya was quick to hush them. 

Maybe gathering a dozen children to sing was perfectly romantic in anticipation, but in practice, the birds that lazed around the Kamisato Estate were cleared for the entire day due to the children’s unique takes. 

It didn't deter Yoimiya, however. She only laughed, loudly and from the stomach, and the other children followed. Ayaka was more than ready to put on a polite smile and thank them for the wonderful performance, but Yoimiya gently tugged her down from the steps and told her to come play with them down in the river. 

Yoimiya detected the protest on Ayaka’s face before she could let it past her lips. She only giggled, jutting her head down to signal to look at the kids, and Ayaka could only see anticipation on their faces. Ayaka was only one woman— it was nearly impossible to say no to that many puppy faces, especially coming from Yoimiya, with eyes so sparkly and hands clasped so tightly that Ayaka was almost sorry that she even let a single thought of saying no pass through her mind. 

“Their singing was lovely,” Ayaka said, the water rising to her ankles. 

“You think so?” Yoimiya tilted her head to that. She scratched her ear. “They were really off, but they’ve been asking if they could help me for weeks, and I couldn’t think of anything else they could do.”

“Help you with what?” Ayaka asked her. “You should have come to me with that.”

Yoimiya twitched a smile. “They wanted to help me win you over— you know, for a kiss.”

“Oh.” Ayaka’s flush was almost immediate, and just as expected.

Yoimiya only laughed. 

Her laughter was infectious and mingled nicely with the sounds and squeals of the children splashing each other in the water as they watched. 

Being with Yoimiya was exactly like this. She couldn’t think of a flowery metaphor to write into her parchment later that night, but only that the scenery in front of her, with the children running around and the sun reflecting off the river, was how it felt to the most rigorous accuracy. 

And when Yoimiya laughed again, loudly and unapologetically, looking over to her to make sure she was having just as much fun, Ayaka noticed that her happiness was an honest question in of itself. 

Yoimiya’s look was genuine, another inquiry of another kiss, and Ayaka all but had to bite her tongue to keep from wrapping her arms around her and kissing her senseless down to the bottom of the shallow river. Her hand could be right beneath the tattoo on her chest, warm skin underneath the cool of her fingers, but Ayaka refused to entertain the idea any further. 

She looked away to avoid looking at the tattoos that wish to sink her in, but she couldn’t turn away from the jingles of laughter that opened her mind to the thoughts of saying a cherished yes to those questions on Yoimiya’s lips.

Yoimiya’s advances on her had not stopped nor faded by the next two weeks. 

Ayaka had worried that Yoimiya was setting expectations too high for herself, a disappointment that Ayaka might inevitably give when her cowardice becomes too much, but Yoimiya was quick and easy to wave it off. She cited that she enjoyed getting to know Ayaka anyway, and if or whenever she felt that Yoimiya’s inquiries became a definite no, she was allowed to say so. 

Just one quick word, and Yoimiya would go away, and the courtship would stop and they would continue to be friends and Ayaka would never have to worry about another “Can you kiss me?” question popping up in her daily routine ever again. 

It was already hard to wrap her mind around, might as well think about. She worried that there was an ulterior motive, despite the overwhelming evidence, again and again, that Yoimiya was a woman of complete honesty. 

Perhaps that mischievous Director Hu from Liyue, who Yoimiya was so fond of, had put her up to it. A prank, or a bet maybe, to draw a kiss from a Kamisato. Maybe it was a game, considering how easy thinking of jokes and entertainment came from Yoimiya. 

Or maybe Yoimiya genuinely wanted to kiss her, for the same reasons people kiss each other. Ayaka had read and written enough of those kinds of stories to know.

So Ayaka continued to put it off. 

By then, Yoimiya’s extravagant shows of affections faded into gifts and surprise dates. She still continued to ask, never enough to pester, but enough to know that her offer will always be on the table, as if Ayaka could ever forget.

But today was an especially beautiful day, with the wind barely there and her list to fulfill was shorter than usual. So, once Yoimiya had stepped close enough to her to be in hearing vicinity, Ayaka asked her if they could spend time together.

Yoimiya’s eyebrows shot up high in surprise, but her face was instantly placated into a look of delight. “I was just stopping by to check in on you. You know, seeing if you need a shoulder to cry on or anything,” Yoimiya explained, and she fiddled with something at her belt, “but! If you want, I can show you how to aim a bow. I was going to practice today anyway.”

Yoimiya’s proud smile was too bright for her to say no— or to admit that she was well-versed with a bow.

Yoimiya’s training grounds were nothing but a small field near her family’s shop. There were bags of packed sand littered with holes on the ground, as well as fresh ones lifted on ropes and old chairs, connoted for aim training with fresh red paint. Though the setup was quite snug, Yoimiya had prepared it with enough safety for Ayaka to approve. The bagged targets were backed with the solid foundation of an old shed, and stacks of hays surrounded the area for comfort and lining.

“So, what do you think?” Yoimiya asked conversationally, and she gestured around her area proudly. She picked up a training bow on the haystack closest to her and tested the tautness of the string. Meanwhile, Ayaka looked around, a compliment on her tongue, but Yoimiya had always been quick to beat it. “How much do you know about using a bow?”

“I can get by,” Ayaka said. It was tethering on the tightrope of a lie. She had been trained in using a bow since she was a child, perhaps not as vigorously as the art of the sword, but enough to use it accurately if it was the only option given to her.

Maybe that was the difference between her and Yoimiya. Yoimiya’s sunny honesty versus her moonlight lies. It was oddly complimentary.

“Well, then, I’m sure you know that you have to check with your dominant eye, right?” Yoimiya asked her. She said it non-accusingly, even going as far as to demonstrate by lifting the bow to its position. She instructed Ayaka to sit down on one of the haystacks, the one with a thick blanket pulled on top (perhaps the children liked to watch her and be around her just as much as they liked to played with her, just as she does), and demonstrated further instructions with a kindness and patience that Ayaka felt the need to nod along despite knowing what it entailed. 

Yoimiya taught her the difference in bows, along with the technique used to draw, showing by artfully pulling it back with a smoothness and swiftness Ayaka had never seen on even the trained soldiers she passed by in the city. If that wasn’t enough for her to look in awe, it was the fact that her eyes immediately locked onto the curve not of her bow, but of the muscles that Yoimiya was displaying. 

The beautiful day was full of sunshine, and Ayaka held no regrets for coming here, especially as the same rays of sunshine shone down on Yoimiya to shade the tones of her back muscles and the taut curves of her arm that was adjacent to the bow.

Ayaka tried to rip her gaze away, her ears basically muffled to the instructions that Yoimiya was scattering, but it was to no avail. She cleared her throat, hoping that it wouldn’t get Yoimiya’s attention, and essentially forced herself to listen. The thunk of the arrow against the target jolted her to do so, and she was very thankful for it.

Yoimiya’s break in her words was subtle enough that it almost flew past her, but Ayaka knew her intonations and speech patterns enough to detect a slight hesitation. Ayaka could see a playful, coy smile, one that was almost identical to a smirk, make its way onto Yoimiya’s face before she continued to nock another arrow. 

Yoimiya continued to instruct her. For how long, she couldn’t tell— Ayaka was too busy trying to get her mind off the most undignified of thoughts. 

“So!” Yoimiya said, and Ayaka almost jumped. Yoimiya pressed her lips together, as if she was trying not to smile. “Do you have any questions?”

An indecent “Uh,” came from her lips, but there was nothing else Ayaka could do. She began to sort out her thoughts as fast as she could, a talent she was often praised for, but it was not enough for her to find a suitable answer. 

All she could think of was, How do those flowers feel on your skin?

How about that koi fish? 

Do you laugh when you kiss someone?

Can you ask me again?

Yoimiya noticed her struggle to speak. She cocked her head to the side and looked at her encouragingly, taking a moment to lay down her bow. She walked over to Ayaka, who was still rendered into silence by the boldness of her thoughts, and sat down beside her.

“I didn’t think archery was that hard to wrap your mind around,” Yoimiya joked, though there was a hint of concern behind her jest. She looked at Ayaka for a moment, then sidled closer to her. She bumped her gently with her shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

It was ironic to think that her first thought to that was to say, You, though Ayaka was smart enough to hold her tongue. It also came to a startling thought to her to realize that Yoimiya wouldn’t appreciate the fact that she had said a small white lie to be there. Here was the most honest woman in Inazuma, perhaps even in Teyvat, sitting beside her, and she had just slipped a lie. A small one, maybe, but a lie nonetheless. 

It made her feel slightly guilty, especially coupled with the thought that she had spent so long concocting nonexistent explanations for Yoimiya’s sincere behaviors and gestures. 

So, she opted to say, “I know how to use a bow.”

The confession made her instantly heat up, though she didn’t know if it was from the exhilaration of her prior thoughts or the fact that she admitted to a lie. Ayaka hid her face partially with her hands. 

Yoimiya looked at her. She was usually someone that was easy to read, though Ayaka couldn’t tell what she was thinking now. Or maybe she was too busy thinking of her own mistakes to discern it properly. She looked quite confused, though.

“So?” Yoimiya asked her. 

Ayaka really didn’t want to spell it out. “It means I lied to you,” she clarified, and she put her hands down to look at her properly, despite her hands becoming instantly clammy in doing so. “I apologize. Truly.”

And, as it always was with Yoimiya, she always did the unexpected. She only snorted, then began to giggle. 

“Well, I’m glad you told me so, but it’s not a big deal, you know,” Yoimiya laughed. She held out her hand, palm up, and Ayaka took it without another thought. She was so used to Yoimiya’s simple acts of closeness that the line blurred for her, the one that cleaved the difference between the distance she must put on.

“I think it’s kinda sweet,” Yoimiya continued, and Ayaka’s brow furrowed. 

“Lying is sweet to you?” Ayaka was more than baffled by it. 

Yoimiya’s eyes widened by a fraction, and she squeezed Ayaka’s hand. “No, no!” she said immediately, and she shook her head. It almost made Ayaka laugh, at how animated and easy this girl was to clarify the things she mistook. “I just meant the fact that you thought something like that would make me mad at you.”

“But I lied to you,” Ayaka stressed, as if Yoimiya wasn’t getting it. A small lie, sure, but a woman as honest as Yoimiya had to have thought that to be an issue. 

Yoimiya bobbed her head and hummed. “Because you wanted to spend time with me,” she said. Her lips tugged into a smile. There was no hint of judgement in her eyes. “Right?”

Ayaka’s mouth dried. “Yes.”

“Sooo, let’s do something else,” Yoimiya said brightly. 

Ayaka couldn’t wrap her mind around the entire conversation. “Pardon me?”

“You know, uh…” Yoimiya tapped her chin in thought at that, her eyebrows pulled together to think of something to say. “We could see another play— I know you like those, you do this little smile while you’re watching and it’s cute. Orrr, we can go shopping, or grab a bite to eat, or—”

“Please, being here with you is enough for me,” Ayaka told her, and her chest lifted at the sudden honesty. Yoimiya smiled dazzlingly at her, as if in encouragement to her newfound bravery. “But, I also…” The words died from her throat. 

“Also?”

Ayaka almost laughed at the situation. At the very least, it was amusing, if not dizzying. 

She imagined things to end either with her tears on her pillow after a long night, or with one of Yoimiya’s long-winded gestures and/or speeches finally breaking through her layers of doubts. 

Yet, she told Yoimiya, “Ask me one more time.”

Yoimiya looked surprised, and also quite nervous. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it like that— but it was much too late to back out now. 

She expected a loud, enthused and undeterred, “I want you to kiss me.”

Instead, Yoimiya took both of her hands, her smile as gentle as they came and asked, “I want to kiss you. Can I do that?”

Endlessly, Ayaka wanted to say. 

But Ayaka responded only by making the first move, her hands coming up to cup her face, and Yoimiya followed suit closely after, her arms coming to wrap around Ayaka protectively. 

Their kiss was nothing like fireworks as they were often described in those novels she kept close to her heart. It was over much too soon, much too quickly, and Ayaka made a slight noise in the back of her throat that made Yoimiya laugh and dip back in. 

She never wanted it to end. 

She said so as much, a truth straight from a light chest and tingly lips, and Yoimiya only flashed her a bright smile. 

One that was honest, and told her that she wanted just the same. 

“Can I kiss you?” Ayaka asked, their hands interlaced and the moon following their every step. They had spent the whole day together, with bare moments apart. 

Yoimiya tilted her head. “If I’m being honest?” she said teasingly, and Ayaka almost pushed her gently aside. 

“Yes,” she answered sincerely. Ayaka never doubted the truth of it.