Work Text:
Fireworks didn’t go off in Inazuma City for New Year’s. It was all Yoimiya’s fault.
She had thought that she could finish the fireworks sooner rather than later. They were supposed to be intricate ones—fireworks that made dancing shiisaa and crows in the sky, riding on the back of one of those long, powerful mythical dragons from Liyue that Beidou, who would’ve been in town for the festivities, had told her tales about. But no one could see the spectacle that she had envisioned.
Yoimiya didn’t know if she was being lazy or not since she had been feeling more down than usual lately. Even though she had a hard time admitting it, New Year’s for her was the most frightening time of the year. It was a time of new beginnings, sure, but it was always the end of an era. The children that had called her big sister got older and would be embarrassed to treat her that way. The elderly’s chances of passing were greater. And worst of all, she got older. Yoimiya would turn twenty this year—and she felt like her teen spirit would pass on into the aether of forlorn, half-forgotten memories as people recognized her more and more as an adult.
Maybe that was the scariest part. The harsh reminder that she was an adult now.
Yoimiya had felt that same pain of growing up when she took over Naganohara Fireworks from her father, but she had thought that she had gotten used to it. She had thought that being an adult wasn’t so bad. Sure, she worked, and she had less time to play, but her schedule was still flexible enough for her to decide to have fun whenever she wanted, as long as she slotted some work in. But having responsibilities and aging were different demons entirely. Even if she still acted like she was young, that wouldn’t matter to other people if she didn’t look like it.
A sigh pushed past Yoimiya’s lips as she looked at the half-finished fireworks. Despite everything that she had been going through, she had still gotten something done. But it just wasn’t good enough.
Yoimiya decided she would lock herself inside for the rest of the day. People would definitely come to check up on her since she was one of Inazuma’s biggest socialites—and it would be weird if nobody had seen her all day—but Yoimiya figured she could probably get them to leave by just not answering the door.
The thought of all the concerned kids who didn’t get fireworks for New Year’s also not getting a response from her when they would come to check on her made her heart sink, though.
For the first time in a long time, Yoimiya cried while hugging her pillow as she laid on the futon she had set up in her office. She always fought off sadness with a positive attitude that was more like a piece of clothing that hid the naked truth of how she really felt, but she just couldn’t today. She definitely tried, though, forcing smiles as tears like waterfalls poured down her cheeks. It probably looked horrific, so Yoimiya couldn’t be more thankful that she was alone. She couldn’t handle looking like a monster in front of anyone at that moment. She already felt like enough of one for ruining New Year’s.
The sudden knocking at the door made Yoimiya’s heart stop. It was the familiar melody of a nursery rhyme that the children used whenever they wanted her to come out and play. Yoimiya had wanted to scream into her pillow, but that would’ve alerted them to the fact that she was there. Instead, she bit down on her pillow and played dead. Eyes closed and legs hugged against her chest, she waited for them to leave. However, every second felt like an eternity.
It didn’t help that the children stuck around, either. Yoimiya had set up her office so she could hear the children whenever they hollered for her, but she was surely regretting it now. In hushed whispers she could barely hear, they spoke about how they wondered if she was okay and how disappointed they were that they didn’t get to see the fireworks for New Year’s. Yoimiya wanted to run outside and huddle them together to give them a big hug to tell them she was fine and everything was okay with a big smile, but she knew she could only pretend to be happy for so long before bursting into tears in front of them.
Instead, shoved her fingers into her ears and tried to force some kind of apathy in place of her sadness. It was tough, but Yoimiya had managed to do so before slowly drifting off to sleep…
After Yoimiya awoke, she dragged herself off of her futon and to her work station where her half-finished fireworks were. She had spent a good few minutes just staring at them, considering what to do with them. Yoimiya knew she had wanted to finish them, at least. Making fireworks was her biggest passion, and there was nothing like seeing someone’s face light up as she lit up the sky… But she had missed New Year’s, so she didn’t know if it made sense to keep working on them.
Yoimiya held her head in her hands and let out a breathy sigh.
What should I do? What should I do?
Another round of rhythmic knocking came at her door. Yoimiya recognized it instantly; it was Thoma. Yoimiya had debated even going to the door since Thoma knew better than anyone to leave her alone when she didn’t come to open it, but she had felt bad for blowing him off for the past week; during which she was supposed to be making the fireworks he probably came to ask about.
Plus, Thoma had taken on the role of her therapist most of the time. It… could’ve been nice to have him lend an ear. She didn’t want to fall apart at the seams more than she already had.
“I’m coming!” she shouted before she hurried over to the door and opened it.
To her surprise, it wasn’t Thoma who had come to see her, but Kamisato Ayaka, the eldest daughter of the Kamisato Clan of the Yashiro Commission. For most people, this would’ve been a life-changing occasion. Kamisato Ayaka doesn’t just show up at someone’s door out of the blue unless there’s a serious issue or an emergency. However, Yoimiya wasn’t ‘most people.’ Ayaka herself had commissioned Yoimiya for a few festivals after she had taken over from her father, but the Kamisato Clan and Naganohara Fireworks had a working relationship long before then.
Since they were teens, the two of them had been speaking and had developed a casual friendship. They weren’t particularly close, but Ayaka would come by every two months for tea, wagashi, and a chat. It was through Ayaka that she had met Thoma, her housekeeper, who she was closer with.
For being the housekeeper and essentially Ayaka’s retainer, he could visit surprisingly often. He had told her he could afford so many visits because Ayaka was both tidy and independent, but Yoimiya had wondered if she had kept him from Ayaka a little too much. He would always be there for her whenever she had a personal problem that she just couldn’t handle. Actually, he was always there for her whenever she wanted to ramble on about anything, really: what she did that day, her firework ideas, the pretty girl at the market that she struggled to talk to. Everything.
She wished he was here with her right now. But she couldn’t say she was disappointed to see Ayaka. It had been a while since the two of them had last spoken.
Yoimiya rubbed her hand against the back of her neck. “Hey, Ayaka. What’s up?”
“I came to check up on you,” Ayaka said. “Are you well?”
Once Yoimiya realized she wasn’t smiling, she fixed her face, donning a smile as bright as the afternoon sun. Fervidly, she nodded in response. “Mhm! I’m as right as rain! No need to worry about me! I’m super good!”
Ayaka hummed. “May I come in?”
“Uh, sure,” Yoimiya replied. “Come on in!”
Yoimiya stepped out of the way and went to put the kettle on while Ayaka walked in, took her shoes off at the door, and plopped down onto one of the peach-colored zabutons around the dining table. Yoimiya looked back as she dashed around the kitchen, showing her a smile so she could fool her into thinking that she was alright. To some extent, she wanted to tell Ayaka what was going on, but she didn’t want to tarnish her perception of her being a summery, reliable girl that she could always count on.
Yoimiya knew she was only human. But everyone always had high expectations for her. She couldn’t let them down again.
“Hey, what kind of snacks do you want?” Yoimiya asked.
Ayaka shook her head and asked, “Are you truly doing alright, Yoimiya?”
Her voice carried an accusatory elegance that was so profound that it shook Yoimiya’s very soul. She had felt like she did when her late mother had caught her in the snack jar after midnight when she was small. Yoimiya weighed her options, but doubled down on her lies for the sake of maintaining appearances.
“Uh, fine and dandy, Ayaka. Why’s that?”
“Because I can tell that you’re not.” Ayaka’s lips stretched into a sullen frown. “There’s no need to lie to me, Yoimiya. I’m not stupid.”
Even though her proclamation was melancholy, Ayaka still spoke with a powerful conviction that made Yoimiya feel like a child whose parents had caught them doing wrong—no doubt something that she had learned to do as a daughter of the Kamisato Clan. Yoimiya knew from their many intellectual talks that Ayaka was one of the most brilliant-minded people she knew—and the situation that her lies had gotten her into made her feel dumb. Literally. No matter how many times she opened and closed her mouth, no words came out.
Yoimiya couldn’t help but chide herself internally. She wanted to say something—anything. Even a simple apology would do. But her heart was racing so fast that her brain was scrambled. Adding shame to the rest of the mental turmoil that she was experiencing was one hell of a thing. However, before her frantic negative thoughts could spiral into full-blown self loathing, Ayaka spoke up, cutting through the tension.
“Sit with me.”
Yoimiya obeyed, dropping onto the zabuton facing Ayaka and sitting with her legs crossed with her hands on her knees. There was a brief silence between the two of them before Ayaka took her hands and held them softly. Ayaka’s hands were chilly, but they were comforting, and as the two locked eyes, Yoimiya’s apologetic gaze was met with a kind one.
Taking a shallow breath, Yoimiya mouthed the words I’m sorry before gripping tightly onto Ayaka’s hands and rubbing her thumbs along her knuckles. Smiling, Ayaka shook her head.
“I’m not angry,” she said. “But I’d appreciate it if you could tell me what’s wrong. After all, we’ve been friends for a long time. I think some vulnerability between us shouldn’t be anything to fear.”
Yoimiya sighed. The words finally came. “I’m sorry, Ayaka. I’m just… I’m going through a lot.”
“I could tell. You can talk to me about it, Yoimiya. I don’t want you to hurt in solitude.”
She didn’t want to hurt in solitude either, but was it really okay to let Ayaka in? Yoimiya felt like she could now, but she knew Ayaka had a lot on her plate handling the affairs of the Kamisato Clan with her brother. Then again, she told her they needed some vulnerability between them; it made no sense for Yoimiya to remain over-encumbered by the weight of her problems. She was overthinking things.
Yoimiya raised her hand to her forehead and sighed again. Her lips stretched into an awkward smile. She couldn’t be more nervous than she was at that moment. She was used to only really sharing her worries with Thoma and her father, who was out on a trip to Watatsumi Island at the moment.
“I’m just… I’m worried that I’m getting old,” she said. Yoimiya let go of Ayaka’s hands and looked around the room—mostly for some comedic effect in an attempt to lighten the mood for herself—before raising her hand next to her mouth and whispering, “Y’know, like twenties old?”
Ayaka let out a saccharine chuckle. “Twenty is far from old, Yoimiya. In fact, that’s when life’s just starting, you know? There’s so much beyond the horizon of your teens. Our teens. We’ll both be twenty this year.”
That had slipped Yoimiya’s mind, but her next question had come naturally. “Are you afraid of turning twenty?”
Ayaka looked up at the ceiling and let out a low hum. “I suppose. Sort of, but not really. I would be a hypocrite if I felt like the end of my teens was the end of it all after what I just said. But I won’t deny it is certainly the end of an era. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
Yoimiya frowned. “Then… why does it feel like a bad thing?”
Silence filled the room once again, and Ayaka pursed her lips, clearly deep in thought. Yoimiya lowered her head, but kept her eyes on Ayaka, curious to see how she would respond. She waited in anticipation, but Ayaka’s simple response was a rather anticlimactic shrug.
“I wouldn’t know,” Ayaka said. “I’m not in your body, nor am I in your head. Your troubles are your own, Yoimiya. While this issue of the closing of our teen years is admittedly a struggle we share, it won’t affect me the way it’ll affect you. But we can talk and share our struggles.” Ayaka took Yoimiya’s hand in hers again and ran her thumb along her knuckles. “Will you tell me what particularly troubles you?”
In an uncharacteristically miserable voice, Yoimiya gave an equally miserable response. “Everything.”
“Everything?”
“Just… everything, Ayaka.” Yoimiya huffed and stood, pulling away from Ayaka. She paced around the room, arms folded and pouting, like an upset child. Maybe it was the wrong way to act around someone with such prestige, but Yoimiya couldn’t help herself at that moment. She was fully submerged in the distress and anxiety she was feeling. “I… I’m scared, Ayaka. I’m scared that people will stop letting me be the fun-loving, bubbly Yoimiya I am, and I have to be a responsible, boring Yoimiya—because what’s what growing up is, right? I’m scared that people are gonna… just start treating me like a grown-up. Completely. I’m scared that one day my father will leave me, and I’m worried my beauty may leave me, and I…”
Ayaka raised a hand, and Yoimiya immediately stopped talking. Feeling insecure about her rambling, her gaze darted up to Ayaka’s face for some kind of comfort. However, her expression was unreadable. Her brows were furrowed and there was no trace of a smile—no warmth in her expression at all. Just a chilling, analytical gaze.
“There’s no need to continue further,” Ayaka said. “I understand and I’m… sorry to hear your plight. I might not understand all of it. My parents have been dead for a while now, but I can relate to the fear of my beauty fading. Sort of. Nowadays, I notice that beauty all people look at me for. I do wish… someone would take some time to get to know who I truly am. And I don’t think your beauty fades with age. A woman can grow older, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t or can’t still be beautiful. I don’t understand why a lot of women agree with that idea.” Lowering her hands to her lap, Ayaka paused. “So, I suppose… my beauty fading may not be awful for me personally… Ah! But… I also relate to the idea of being an adult… That can be quite scary. My brother handles everything now, though… And he’ll continue to do so for a long time… He’s more than a little overbearing. And people also expect him to, considering he’s the head of the clan.”
The more Ayaka talked, the more Yoimiya felt like she didn’t understand at all. She couldn’t expect her to. The Naganohara family was an integral part of Inazuma City, but they lacked the same status that the Kamisato Clan did. No matter what, people would wait hand and foot for Ayaka. She could live as a kid forever if she wanted to, no doubt. Age would take its toll on her body, but she didn’t even really seem to mind that.
Ayaka took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting out a soft giggle. In it, Yoimiya heard the slightest break of confidence. “I suppose I’m not helping much, am I? Like I said, our struggles might be similar, but what troubles us will be different… Though there is something that I can admit that I’m afraid of…”
“Hm?” Yoimiya cocked her head. “What’s that?”
Ayaka chuckled. “Being one year closer to my death, of course. I’m afraid knowing one day I will just… cease to exist. That I will pass on leaving people who care about me behind and hurt them because of it. That thought never sits right with me. And I have to admit that these thoughts aren't exactly infrequent to me.”
Yoimiya fell silent. It was weird that she didn’t think about that herself, but it was even weirder that she didn’t panic. Maybe it was because she could already see the subtle fear in Ayaka’s face, so she didn’t feel the need to double-down on the misery. Feelings were weird like that, she guessed.
Not wanting her friend to despair any longer, Yoimiya offered a supportive, caring smile. “Yeah, that can be pretty scary. But it’s just a part of life, y’know? There’s probably something after life, anyway; that just means that there’s another adventure to go on after all of this! Doesn’t that seem fun? I mean, who doesn’t love a good adventure, right? Heck, when we both pass over, we can go on an adventure together!”
Ayaka let out a hearty laugh. “Thank you, Yoimiya. That’s very sweet. Though, do you do that a lot?”
Yoimiya blinked. “Hm? Do what?”
“Try to make people feel happy even though you’re hurting. You didn’t hesitate to help me the moment you noticed I was unhappy.” Ayaka smiled, then hummed pensively. “As valuable of a trait as I consider that to be, please don’t forget about yourself.”
That wasn’t the first time she had heard those words. Her father had often reminded her she that it wasn’t exactly the healthiest idea to be the town therapist all the time. But that was what made Yoimiya happy. Whenever someone was feeling down or upset about something, she couldn’t help but help. Maybe it was an obsession, or maybe it was a compulsion—but it made her feel sick whenever she couldn’t help someone.
Again, Yoimiya couldn’t think of a response that she was entirely happy with, so she went with the first thing that came to her mind. “Well, like, I can’t just leave them sad, you know. I mean, everyone’s counting on me. Everyone’s counting on me, so I have to help them. Everyone’s always counting on me.”
“Hm?” Ayaka raised an eyebrow. “Say that last part again.”
“Uh, which part?” Yoimiya snickered. Maybe some humor could help ease the tension a bit. “The part where I said ‘everyone’s counting on me’ or the part where I said ‘everyone’s counting on me’?”
Ayaka let out another laugh. “Yes, Yoimiya. That’s what I meant. Truly, though, you shouldn’t worry about those things… While it’s important to help the people around you, you can’t overexert yourself doing so. I’m… no stranger to the idea myself. Growing up, I always felt like I needed to wear a big smile for the people around me. I was everyone’s little princess; it was part of the noble lifestyle. Apparently, my smile could end the worries of all those around me… That’s quite the burden to bear.”
“Yeah, it is.” Yoimiya nodded a few times. “So, is there any particular way you, uh, dealt with that?”
“Well.” Ayaka pursed her lips. “Not truly, I suppose. People can make the choice whether or not they will be dependable people, but being born a Kamisato, the choice was never there for me. No matter what, I will be a cultural icon for Inazuma. However, even though I lacked a choice in deciding to be someone important to the people, I made the little choices I could. Every day, I make the choice to be kind, to be gentle, to be patient. While people may expect that from me, I decided I want to be that for myself. I choose what clothes I wear, what food I eat, et cetera… We all think that life is about one or two big choices, but we forget the little ones. I always remember them, though. It’s a sign of my independence.”
Yoimiya hummed. “I feel the same way, actually. I try to remember all the little decisions I make, too, but it doesn’t help me too much when dealing with, you know, the pressure. It’s all-consuming sometimes. People are counting on me and I’m afraid to let them down. Maybe it’s because you don’t talk with them like I do. Uh, no offense, by the way—but the people of Inazuma tell me all of their needs and their worries. And they expect me to listen and stuff.”
“Then why don’t you tell them yours back? I mean, that would seem quite logical, right? When people are upset and need to vent their frustrations to others, don’t they do it with each other? Mutually, I mean. I know when my brother and I have bad days, we can ramble on for hours about what annoys us. It comes naturally to us.”
Yoimiya raised her hand to the back of her neck and rubbed it. “Well, it would be sort of unfair if I pushed my problems onto them after telling me about theirs. I don’t want to add more pressure to what they’re going through, you know?”
Ayaka raised an eyebrow. “But is that really fair to you? You’re not a god, Yoimiya. You can’t handle everyone at once. You’re only human. And I know you’re worried about aging, but I have to say that stressing yourself out trying to please everyone is only going to make you look aged beyond your years. I must even say that you look more haggard since I’ve last seen you.”
Did she? Yoimiya could believe it. She hadn’t been sleeping as well as she used to, but she didn’t think that the reason was because she had been over-burdening herself with other people’s issues. Now that she thought about it, the people around her wanted to talk about what was bothering them more and more recently. But Yoimiya didn’t mind. That made her happy, didn’t it?
“Well, I’ve not been sleeping as well,” Yoimiya said. “But… But… Um…”
Yoimiya didn’t even know what she could say at that point. Instead, she let out a loud sigh, signifying her defeat. She wasn’t sure what point Ayaka had hammered into her mind, but she had found that she had agreed and disagreed with something. She didn’t know. It just felt like their conversation had all over the place and stained every crevice of her mind with doubt and insecurity, like spilled wine. Yoimiya didn’t know what she was thinking at all. And she wasn’t even sure how to figure it out.
Luckily, Ayaka was there to take the reins of the conversation. Her next words came in an authoritative tone that captured Yoimiya’s attention easily.
“Yoimiya, look at me.”
Yoimiya’s gaze trailed upward from the dining table where it fell upon Ayaka’s face. There, she could not only see just her kind smile, but her quiet determination. Her expression made it obvious that even though this conversation must’ve been tough for the both of them, that she was willing to help. Yoimiya felt cared for and couldn’t thank Ayaka enough for that.
“I’m looking,” Yoimiya said, her voice softer than before.
As Ayaka was about to speak, the sound of the whistle of the kettle filled the room. Yoimiya pressed a foot against the ground, ready to push herself to her feet, but as she did, Ayaka stood up instead. Humming sweetly, the eldest daughter of the Kamisato Clan made her way over to the kettle, turned off the stove, and brewed a cup of green tea for the both of them. With the grace of a swan, she walked back over to the dining table and served Yoimiya before setting her own teacup down and sitting.
“You need to show some initiative, Yoimiya,” Ayaka said before she raised her teacup to her lips and took a little sip. She set it down and the sound of porcelain against glass caused a little clink to resonate throughout the room. “Life can be difficult, but that’s what life is about. I may view the fears you have differently, but I will be here for you, even if I can’t say the right things to help. I wish that there was a magic word I could say to make all of your pain go away, but I can’t. But you’re my friend and friends stick together. I will not abandon you, Yoimiya.”
Little did Ayaka know that those were the words that Yoimiya needed to hear. It didn’t make her any less afraid of aging or any less confused about how she should and shouldn’t interact with the people of Inazuma going forward, but it brought about some mental clarity—a simple moment of serenity where she could just focus on the kindness in Ayaka’s words. The care she felt in that moment dwarfed any fear that she had felt beforehand and brought tears to her eyes.
As Ayaka opened her mouth—probably to ask her what was wrong—Yoimiya, sniffling like she had the most awful cold of her life, stood and bolted over to Ayaka, throwing her arms around her and hugging her like she was a big stuffed animal. Ayaka recoiled and blinked a few times before leaning into the hug and rubbing Yoimiya’s back.
“You… really promise that you won’t leave me?” Yoimiya whispered.
Yoimiya was surprised by her own question. It made her sound so fragile, but it was instinctual. It just… slipped out before she had the chance to think about what she was saying! She had hoped it would be something they could laugh about later, otherwise, she would probably be embarrassed forever!
“Come now,” Ayaka chuckled, “don’t be silly. Like I said before, we’re friends. Even though we may not have a lot of time to visit each other, I’ll be rooting for you, Yoimiya. And I know Thoma is as well. He’s always talking about you. Not spilling secrets or anything like that, just talking… The way he talks, I can tell he really believes in you and cares about you. You’re an important part of his life. And you’re an important part of mine, too. I’m happy we’re friends. And I swear to you that when you have problems, I’ll be there to help you solve them.”
At that point, Yoimiya couldn’t help but burst into tears. Despite giving this same unwaveringly idyllic kindness to everyone around her, it was something that she rarely experienced herself. Yoimiya was a dynamic and emotional person, often as explosive as the fireworks she made. Despite hiding her problems and forcing herself to be happy sometimes, she was pretty in tune with her emotions to where they could hit her like haymakers sometimes.
Ayaka didn’t seem to mind, though. As Yoimiya cried, Ayaka stroked her back and her hair and held her close, swaddling Yoimiya in a feeling of all-encompassing love which had been vacant from her life since her mother passed seven years ago. She used to hold her just like this; that just made Yoimiya cry even harder.
After a few minutes, though, Yoimiya’s tears had stopped, and she was just left sniffling. However, despite that, Yoimiya wore a big, genuine smile that hurt her face to keep after all the crying she had done.
Ayaka donned a smaller smile and asked, “Do you feel better?”
Yoimiya nodded. “Way, way better. It’s nice to have a good cry sometimes. Uh, thanks for that, Ayaka. For being here.”
“Mhm.” Ayaka cleared her throat. “But Yoimiya, I must tell you that while it is okay to be upset now, you cannot let yourself be consumed by your depression and fear. You cannot let yourself be dragged down into the darkness. Even if you’re only keeping yourself afloat right now, one day you must swim against the tide. Maybe you need some time to heal. Time has always been a healer for me, but I don’t want to see you feeling despondent forever. The more you sink in that feeling, the more you’ll believe it. The more it’ll become your miserable reality.”
Mulling over her words, Yoimiya shook her head. There was something off about them—something that she couldn’t explain. She didn’t doubt that what Ayaka said was right for her, but she didn’t feel the same way, even if she couldn’t rationalize why. But she was going to work it out.
She let her emotions take the wheel as she spoke. Today, she had developed a genial comfortability around Ayaka to where she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. If she said something wrong, it would probably be fine. “I don’t think so. For me, at least… I… I don’t think I should take a break. Not yet…”
“Hm?” Ayaka cocked her head to the right slightly. “Why’s that?”
Why was that? Yoimiya didn’t know at first, but after she had recalled what the children outside of her door had said earlier, she immediately had her answer.
“Well, I’m an important part of Inazuma City. I’m the one everyone’s counting on whenever there’s a huge event for a fireworks show, right? I can’t just… sit idly by knowing the New Year’s went by and nothing happened. Some kids came by looking for me today; they were talking about how sad they were that they didn’t get fireworks… I can’t just… take time off thinking about that. I would go crazy.”
Ayaka nodded once. “Okay, but you know Inazuma did not traditionally have fireworks for New Year’s. That was a tradition which you brought only a few years ago. It’s not something that’s necessary if you don’t want to do it.”
“But that’s the thing, Ayaka. I actually want to do it. I want to finish the fireworks. I think those kids deserve it. I mean, yeah, I’m fretting about my youth fading, but imagine how much life it’s gonna take out of them… They’re going to remember yesterday as a day that made them really, really sad. And I don’t want that. They deserve to be happy. Everyone in Inazuma deserves those fireworks.”
“I see.” Ayaka raised the teacup to her lips and took a long sip. “Are you sure about this, Yoimiya? Are you absolutely certain that you want to make those fireworks?”
Ayaka’s expression was something that Yoimiya couldn’t quite read yet again. There was an undoubtable seriousness to it, clear as her brows furrowed, much like they had earlier. But that chilling gaze was missing. It didn’t seem like Ayaka was trying to analyze her. Rather, it was like she was waiting in anticipation to see what she would say—probably. For better or for worse, it looked like this choice was entirely in Yoimiya’s hands and that Ayaka wouldn't interfere.
Yoimiya couldn’t say that Ayaka’s gaze didn’t worry her, but she knew in her heart of hearts that it was what she wanted to do. So, with a resolute grin, Yoimiya nodded. She was going to finish those fireworks, no matter what. She wasn’t just going to try. She was going to get it done.
“Yes,” Yoimiya said, the simple word spoken with a stalwart confidence. “I’m sure, Ayaka… I know what you’ll say, and you’re right. Maybe I do take on too much, and maybe I do put other people’s happiness over my own most of the time. Maybe that’s unhealthy for me. Maybe I should take some time to sort out my worries and how I feel about aging, but… that’s not who I am. I already know no matter how I sulk, I’m not gonna get any younger. It’s a shame, but it’s true. And maybe… y’know, people will start seeing me as an adult more. And that’s scary… But what’s also scary to me right now is knowing that I could’ve messed up a big day for those kids and they could carry that for the rest of their lives; it doesn’t matter if it’s likely or not, it’s a possibility.”
Reaching across the table, Yoimiya took Ayaka’s hands and held them firmly. Maybe a little too firmly, but she was trying to fire herself up. As she tried to speak again, the words didn’t come immediately, so she took a deep breath, calming herself and loosening her grip on her hands before she continued.
“What makes me happy, for better or for worse, is helping others,” she said. “Many people have told me that my fireworks have made their day better. And that’s a relief to me, Ayaka. Yeah, I inherited Naganohara Fireworks from my dad, but I wouldn’t make fireworks for this long if I didn’t enjoy doing it. I love the artistry involved. I love it gives me my own work hours. But most of all… I love making people smile. And deep down, right now it hurts me that the people of Inazuma didn’t get their New Year’s fireworks. So, I’m going to finish them. I’m going to finish the fireworks and they’ll go off in the sky with loud pop like always. And you can’t stop me. That’s my decision.”
Saying that it was her decision felt liberating. Yoimiya was sure that, at the end of the day, most decisions she made were her decision, but admitting the choice that she made to finish the fireworks in particular was hers made her feel like she was soaring above the clouds. Maybe she had burdened herself with the idea that everyone was counting on her, but affirming that it was her choice and meaning it made her break free from those shackles of stress. Plus, she loved making fireworks anyway. Of course she should finish them!
Yoimiya didn’t know if this was a temporary high or not. Determination was not a cure-all, but it made her feel better at that moment. And if she stumbled somewhere along the way later, she would at least have Thoma and now Ayaka to help her pick herself back up again. So, no matter what, she was going to try to keep the negative feelings at bay. Maybe not by feigning smiles more than she needed to or pretending that everything was alright—but somehow.
If this was a temporary high, it didn’t matter. She was going to use it to reach new heights, no matter what. She was going to put her all into those fireworks.
As Yoimiya’s gaze returned to Ayaka’s face, she could see her expression soften before she burst out into a gleeful laughter. Yoimiya didn’t wonder if she had done anything wrong, but she was just a little confused.
It took a few seconds for Ayaka’s laughter to die down, but once it did, she cleared her throat and spoke up. “Do I seem that harsh of a critic? I wasn’t going to lecture you about all the reasons you shouldn’t finish the fireworks. In fact, I wanted to tell you I was quite proud of you for making that choice. You chose on your own and it seems like this is truly your calling. So, throw caution to the wind and see this dream to fruition. I know you might not enjoy hearing this, but seeing things through, even though doing so may be hard, is quite the ‘adult’ decision.”
Scratching her arm, Yoimiya let out a dry, mirthful chuckle. “Please… Stop that. I’m only gonna be twenty this year, you know?”
Ayaka nodded with a wide, shiny smile. “Yes, you will only be twenty, Yoimiya. You’ll have many years to make more fireworks or help more people or whatever you decide to do with the rest of your life. You would do well not to forget that.”
Yoimiya rolled her eyes and threw her arms around Ayaka, pulling her into a soft hug. Yoimiya didn’t hold it for nearly as long as she did last time, but she could still feel Ayaka’s love and care as if it was radiating off her skin.
As she pulled away, Yoimiya said, “Thank you again, Ayaka. For everything. It really means a lot to me.”
Ayaka chuckled. “I’m sure I will soon be the one thanking you. I’m sure the fireworks show tonight will be brilliant. I’m quite looking forward to it.” Smirking, she raised an eyebrow. “You will finish by tonight, yes?”
“Geez…” Yoimiya forced out a harsh sigh that she hoped would make it seem like she was angry at the question, even though it would've been obvious to anyone by the smile stretched across her face that she wasn’t. “I thought you wouldn’t try to pressure me. You know, like giving me a time limit.”
Ayaka blew air from her lips and let out a soft laugh. “Come now, are you telling me that after all of that, you didn’t intend to finish them by tonight? It’s rather obvious from the look of determination on your face that you would try to finish them in a few hours, even.”
Yoimiya blinked. “Am I really that obvious?”
“Very, but be sure to take your time if you need, Yoimiya. I want you to make something you’re proud of.”
Yoimiya knew she would. So, her response was a simple nod and a thumbs up. She downed her now-chilly green tea in one gulp before giving Ayaka another quick hug and sprinting over to her workbench.
Time to get to work. I can do this.
Sitting atop a grassy hill that looked down on Inazuma City, Yoimiya watched her fireworks go off in the sky with a wide grin.
She didn’t use her initial idea, rather; she improvised and made fireworks that spoke to her at the moment. The fireworks she made told a tale of a brave, valiant Inazuman princess—who she had obviously based on herself with the spiky straw-colored hair she had—having a battle with the dragon from Liyue she was going to use before. The shiisaa and crows were against her as well, and every explosion in the sky was a different action scene.
The princess, bow in hand, valiantly defended herself from harm and fought off the dragon, but it was a hard-earned victory. Many times, it seemed like the princess would’ve been on the brink of death, but she continued to fight on, no matter what. In the end, the princess and the dragon made peace with each other and they all danced in the sky without a care in the world. The last explosion made a rather intricate self-portrait of Yoimiya, who was beaming as brilliant as the stars and the moon in the sky.
It wasn’t her best work at all. She had noticed little parts where she could have improved her color choice or her timing. But even though it wasn’t her best work, it was definitely her favorite.
The people of Inazuma seemed to think so, too. After the fireworks were over, they all laughed and cheered. Especially the children; Yoimiya could pick out their high-pitched, excited voices easily.
Yoimiya wanted to send a message to all of them. She wanted them to know that no matter what kind of conflict that they would face, even though they may need to struggle and fight through pain, that there would be a happy ending waiting for them. They would just need to find it.
That’s what she believed for herself, too. She was still nervous about her age, about the children growing cold toward her, about the elderly dying, and that her father may one day die with them—but it was okay. Everything would work itself out. It had to. She just needed to roll with the punches.
“Yoimiya!” a voice Yoimiya had instantly recognized as Thoma called.
He and Ayaka were walking up the hill and waving at her with big, bright smiles. Even though they hadn’t told her yet, Yoimiya instantly knew from their expressions that they had really enjoyed the show and that they were excited to talk to her about it; that notion had moved Yoimiya to tears.
Not wanting to get teased about crying, Yoimiya wiped her eyes with her kimono, to no avail. The tears just wouldn’t stop. She didn’t care, though.
She stood and ran up toward the two of them, meeting them halfway and throwing her arms around them. As emotional as ever, Yoimiya cried onto their shoulders and she felt Thoma pat her back. She could recognize that firm yet gentle touch anywhere. Ayaka soon joined in, rubbing her shoulder, her icy touch somehow even gentler than Thoma’s. At that point, Yoimiya was just full-on bawling.
It took Yoimiya a few minutes to calm down, but when she finally did, she sniffled loudly and dried her eyes in her kimono.
“I’m so happy to see you guys,” she said, burying her head in their shoulders again. “I’m so, so, so happy! I hope you enjoyed the show!”
“I think we did more than just enjoy it,” Thoma said, chuckling to himself. “And by we, I mean Milady. Of course, I thought your show was amazing, Yoimiya. It was perhaps one of the best you’ve ever done. However, Ayaka here was bouncing up and down like a toddler as she watched.”
Ayaka huffed. “You seek to embarrass me? Truly? Did you forget all the times you let out loud gasps and pointed at the sky with delight, Thoma?”
“Fine, fine.” Thoma let out a soft laugh. “We both enjoyed the fireworks a lot. Looks like Milady’s talk with you went well.”
“Hm?” She looked up, stepped back, and turned to face Ayaka. “You told him?”
“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that,” Thoma said, rubbing the back of his neck. “She was actually begging me to let her go see you. I figured you needed space, but she wanted to know what was going on with you right away. I actually figured from how passionately she was talking about helping you, it might not be that bad to let her see you. I gave her a few things to say, though. Just in case her usual unconscious terseness came through.”
Yoimiya gasped, still smiling widely despite her next words. “It was a setup!”
Ayaka cleared her throat. “A few things that I discarded, mind you. Everything I told you was my own choice of words. And it went well.” She then turned to look at Thoma with a small smirk. “In fact, last I recalled, it was you who was telling me I should speak my mind more, yes? Despite my ‘usual unconscious terseness.’”
“Fine, fine.” Thoma raised his hands, smiling. “I submit. You both did great today. I’m proud of both of you.”
Ayaka huffed, this time smiling to herself. “Good. Now, there’s a dango stall in town that I would like to go to. I’m sure that Yoimiya would like to go as well. She deserves a treat after all of her hard work, don’t you think?”
“Dango!?” Yoimiya bounced up and down. It had been far too long since she had dango. And Ayaka was right, she did deserve a treat after all her hard work. Like an annoying child pleading with their parents, she asked in a high-pitched voice, “Can we go!? Can we go!?”
“Pfft, we can go,” Thoma said. “Calm down. I was going to take the two of you there, anyway.”
Yoimiya threw her hands in the air and jumped for joy. Maybe she was a little too excited over dango, but she didn’t care. She was just happy to be over the moon over something after all the crying she did today.
It was in that moment Yoimiya realized moments like these—the simple moments that she spent with her friends—had made her the happiest. Ayaka was right. Maybe it was the little things in life. Not just the little decisions, but the little moments of happiness that came together to make a life worth living.
Beaming, she tapped both of her friends on the shoulders. “Tag! You’re both it!”
With no warning, she sped down the hill, running backwards to look at the two of them. Thoma just shrugged before chasing after her, and Ayaka soon followed with a giggle. She spun on her heels as fast as she could and happily ran from her friends, carefree as she always was.
This was the best New Year’s celebration ever!