Work Text:
It's well past midnight by the time the last guest leaves, alcohol-flushed and bright-eyed as he bids them goodnight. "See that you come to me if you ever need help, you hear?" The man's voice booms across the silent estate, louder than ever in the stillness. "You'll be a fine head of house, young master Ayato — or I guess I should call you Lord Kamisato now, hahaha!"
Ayato's smile doesn't waver, but the corners of his eyes narrow just a touch, a motion so small that it's almost imperceptible in the half-light. Even so, Thoma can't help but see it; it's second nature for him to pay close attention to Ayato's mannerisms, and there's little that can escape his notice by now. But to the casual observer, Ayato's voice is smooth and even, betraying not so much as a hint of his tension as he answers, "Thank you. Travel safely, Lord Miyawaki."
"Have a good night, Lord Kamisato!"
Thoma maintains his dutiful bow until the sound of the carriage trundling down the road has disappeared into the distance. It's only when he hears Ayato shift that Thoma straightens up, turning to face his lord. Ayato's smile has faded, but his tension hasn't; although there's no longer anybody here to watch him but Thoma, his back is stiff and straight as they walk back down the hallway, Thoma one pace behind him.
Thoma's hoping that Ayato is on his way to the bedroom, but he's not at all surprised when instead, Ayato turns towards his office. Once they're inside, and Thoma has slid the door shut behind them, Ayato turns to address him. "Thank you for staying up with me, Thoma. It's late. You should go to bed." Ayato's smile is back again, elegant and perfect as always. "The clean-up for the banquet can be left until tomorrow, and I'll be fine by myself. Get some rest."
Ayato has smiled more than ever in these months since his parents passed, but it rarely reaches his eyes anymore. Thoma can't help but compare them to his more carefree smiles of the past, even though it makes him miss those times more than ever. Ayato, now, is shouldering the weight of his parents' deaths on top of all his new responsibilities — it's heavier than any one person should ever have to carry, and Thoma hates that there's so little he can do to lighten his load.
All he can do is take care of Ayato the best he can, even if it may not be enough. "With all due respect, milord, you should be resting as well."
"I still have work to take care of." Even as he speaks, Ayato has already pulled out his chair and taken up the topmost document from the numerous stacks surrounding him. Still, he spares a moment to glance up at Thoma, still wearing that same too-perfect smile. "Don't worry, I'll turn in once I've finished this. It's been a long day for you — I can't have you running yourself ragged. Take care of yourself for my sake as well, Thoma."
There's genuine concern in Ayato's voice, contrasting the impenetrable shield of his everlasting smile, and it makes Thoma's heart ache. It doesn't betray even a hint of his exhaustion, but Thoma knows better than to be fooled. Ayato has never once kept his promise of actually going to bed when he stays up this late — at best, Thoma will find him asleep over the desk or slumped over his chair. At worst, he'll still be awake to greet Thoma with that same smile, not having bothered to sleep at all.
Thoma isn't going to stand for that, not when he can still do something about it. Stepping around the desk so that he's facing Ayato directly, he meets Ayato's gaze head-on, saying, "I'll rest better after I've made sure you're settled in, milord. I'll stay for now."
"Thoma…" There's a helpless note to Ayato's voice that makes Thoma feel just a little guilty, but he isn't going to back down from this. Ayato holds his gaze for a long moment, and Thoma stares back unblinkingly. Sure enough, Ayato folds after mere seconds, dropping his gaze with a soft laugh. "I'm not winning this one, am I?"
"No, you're not," Thoma says gently. "I need to make sure you're getting the rest you need, milord. What will Lady Ayaka say if she sees you with even darker eyebags tomorrow?"
Mentioning Ayaka has always been the surest trick in Thoma's book — but when he sees Ayato's smile slip, brow creasing into a frown, he realises he misstepped. "She'll have to understand. This is for the sake of her hard work as well." Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he breathes out a sigh. "She's done so much to appease the clan and secure my position as the head of house. If I don't do my part, I'll have wasted all her effort."
There's a raw note in his voice, and it tears at Thoma's heart to hear it — a sliver of the vulnerability he's worked so hard to hide, a growing crack in his mask as he continues speaking. "The support I have is still tenuous. Ayaka can get them to agree to support me on the surface, but unless I prove myself to them, it'll all be for naught. Take Lord Miyawaki; he may call me Lord Kamisato today, but he'll be singing a different tune the moment any of my cousins sends him a gift. He's a fickle man at heart, after all."
Ayato lets his hand drop, eyes falling shut briefly as he takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, his perfect, impassive smile has returned, brushed with the barest hint of apology. "I'm sorry, Thoma. I shouldn't be burdening you with such matters."
On one hand, none of this is unfamiliar to Thoma, but on the other… it hurts to hear it from Ayato's lips. Thoma knows, better than anyone, what those voices like to say. Despite his best attempts to keep them away, he knows that Ayato hears them too. The dissenters are waiting in the wings, watching like hawks for the slightest hint of vulnerability, hoping to swoop in and declare Ayato unfit to be the next head of the Kamisato Estate. Aren't there plenty of likelier candidates among the branch families, as opposed to the son of a man who committed a mistake grave enough to threaten the whole clan's standing?
It stokes a fury in Thoma's heart if he lingers on it for too long. They don't see how hard Ayato works, the long days and longer nights he spends delicately navigating the turbulent ocean of politics. From the outside, the other Commissions see this as a prime opportunity to undermine the Yashiro Commission's authority and tilt the balance of power in their favour; within the walls of the estate, the rest of the Kamisato Clan sees only an opening for a favoured son or daughter to become the head of house in place of an unworthy heir. Only Ayaka's support has been unwavering — she's risen to the occasion, carefully persuading many of the various families with promises and her own sweet charm to smooth over the worst of the internal strife. But even for all that she's achieved, there's still much work to be done.
In such matters, Thoma is helpless, reduced to little more than an observer. A housekeeper has no say in dealings of this sort, after all. But there are still ways he can help.
As Thoma kneels, he catches the flicker of confusion over Ayato's face, though it's gone in the next second. "Thoma?" Ayato's voice is cautious, questioning.
"It's never a burden, milord." Thoma can say the words with complete confidence, not a shred of doubt in his mind. "I'm here to serve you, and I always will be."
He hears Ayato's breath catch, and even though he can't see Ayato's face with his head bowed, Thoma is sure that he isn't wearing that inscrutable smile. "I have every faith in your ability, and not a doubt that you'll be able to turn things around, but even if you are not the head of house — no, even if the Kamisato Clan falls or turns on you, I'll be here by your side. My loyalty is to you, first and foremost."
He'd wondered, once, if he should stay. After all, Inazuma wasn't his homeland; in so many ways, it was still foreign to him. It had even been Ayato who'd asked him to consider leaving then, on the night he was making arrangements for his father's funeral, voice carefully empty and face blank as he'd addressed Thoma.
"Now that the situation in Inazuma is unclear, the trouble the Kamisato Clan faces will only increase. You are someone who can see what's at stake, so if you don't want to get involved, leave early."
Thoma had weighed the question then, and the decision that he arrived at still blazes in his heart.
"I vowed to be your vassal. No matter who else doubts you, no matter what anyone says, I'll always follow you. I'll never leave your side, milord."
By his side, his Vision thrums, blazing with heat.
There's a moment of silence after his admission, one in which Thoma is keenly aware of the faintest hint of unsteadiness in Ayato's breathing. A gloved hand is gently laid over the back of his neck, and in that light touch, Thoma is sure he feels Ayato trembling. "Thoma." Ayato's voice is so soft that it's almost inaudible, but Thoma wouldn't have needed to hear him to know what he wants. Lifting his head, Thoma rises from the ground just far enough to be level with Ayato's gaze, leaning in.
In comparison to the restraint and poise that Ayato shows the rest of the world, the kiss is almost painfully desperate — hungry and longing and brimming over with the emotion that Ayato always keeps so close to his heart, guarded with unfathomable smiles and carefully-chosen words. Thoma feels it, every drop of Ayato's desire and loneliness and yearning, channelled into that one kiss.
It's just like the first time Ayato kissed him, the night that he was granted his Vision. Thoma received two gifts that night: each as overwhelming as the other, both of which he cherished dearly. They were both for Ayato.
By the time they finally break apart, Ayato is breathless, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. It's not quite proper, but Thoma can't resist the temptation to lean in again and steal another quick follow-up, the barest brush of lips over the beauty mark at the corner of Ayato's mouth. He feels the gust of Ayato's laugh against his lips as he pulls away.
"Thank you." Ayato's voice is soft and sincere, with a happy note to it that wasn't there before. It fills Thoma's heart with warmth to hear it. "If nobody else, I know I can depend on you."
"Always," Thoma whispers. This time, Ayato's answering smile is genuine, and despite the tinge of exhaustion, it's so much lighter. Deciding to push while he still has the advantage, he asks, "Shall we continue this in the bedroom, milord?"
There's a touch of amusement in Ayato's gaze as he glances over at the document he took out earlier, still lying untouched on his desk — ignored, but not forgotten. "Tenacious as always, Thoma." He reaches over, and Thoma watches with a tinge of victorious pride as Ayato returns the document to its stack before turning back to him. "I'll concede to you tonight, on one condition."
Thoma smiles, already knowing what it will be, but he waits for Ayato to say it anyway. "What condition?"
Ayato stands, drawing Thoma up as well, before stepping in closer. At this distance, Thoma can see every individual eyelash and feel the words on his lips as Ayato whispers, "Stay with me until morning."
It's a request that Thoma is always happy to answer.
"As you wish, milord."