Chapter Text
The beauty of poetry lies in its temperate nature. It does not speak in lengths, nor does it convey things in a literal sense, but somehow, it seems to be the most effective way of piquing the mind and moving the heart.
Perhaps it is the intimacy between giver and receiver, of reader and writer, of lover and the loved that allows it to plant a seed in the soul, one that eventually blooms into a garden of knowing.
Of understanding.
A connection that ran deeper than all other forms of intimacy. One needs only lips to kiss a lover, hands to hold another, but the intimacy of poetry requires an understanding—a mutual understanding. A shared experience or a shared sentiment, without it, the musings of poets would be as empty as the words that lie still in the pages of dictionaries long abandoned in dusty shelves—
Kamisato Ayaka calls out your name, and you’re pulled away from your thoughts. Immediately, you shut the book in your hands and lay it down on the table before you straighten up to give Ayaka your undivided attention. “Hm?”
“Have you read this one?” The young woman is looking at you expectantly as she slides the book over to your side, like you hold the power to vanquish the confusion that was very clearly painted onto her face as she slightly furrows her brows. “I’ve been reading over it, but I can’t seem to grasp what the poet is trying to say.”
Carefully, you bring the book closer to you, flipping its cover to see the title and who wrote it before proceeding to read the words impressed upon the paper.
The Afterthought
Flowers bloom in spring,
And winters sweep through all, but—
Still, the trees will stay
“What do you think it means?” You throw the question back at Ayaka, a tiny grin starting to form on your face as she looks at you as if to say ‘if I knew then I wouldn’t have asked you.’
“Devotion?” Ayaka replies, her voice wavering lightly as she tries to gather her thoughts. “Flowers and spring elicit feelings of calm and happiness so I assume that would mean good times, and winter is often cold and lonely so I think it may represent the less fortunate times—“
You hum to encourage Ayaka to speak further, eyes continuing to read the lines over and over as you try to see if there may have been something you and the girl missed.
“—And I think the writer is trying to say that they’re like that tree who’ll stay regardless of whether the seasons are good or bad.” Ayaka finishes, and she turns to you fully. The girl has always held a deep admiration for you since you were kids, she saw you as the person she could always turn to when she was struggling with the readings that her tutors would give her.
“Oh, you’re very close.” You smile, handing the book over to the girl. “But tell me, do you think trees have a choice where they are planted? Or where they stay grounded?”
Ayaka blinks once. Twice. And then she’s shaking her head. “No, they don’t.”
“Then it’s not devotion, no?” You reply. Honestly, you were starting to feel extremely sorry for the writer, but there’s something else, itching in the back of your mind as you speak. “They’re just a prisoner of circumstance.”
“You can see from the way that the book is entitled that every poem written here is related to love, and you can see from the title of the poem that its major theme is ‘afterthought’.” You lean over to point at the words. It feels like you’re 12 again, helping little Ayaka with her homework in exchange for some of the young girl’s ‘snow on the hearth’ mochis that tasted absolutely divine. “The writer is so caught up in that feeling of love that they feel like a tree, rooted in one spot with no choice but to endure through the cold winter with the promise of spring.”
Your hand tenses up lightly when you hear the familiar sliding of the shoji doors, but you continue speaking, praying that Ayaka didn’t notice. “And perhaps it could be devotion as well.”
You look up to see Kamisato Ayato walking out of his room, one of the Kamisato Clan’s servants—Asami, beautiful just as her name implies—following closely behind him with the most bashful of smiles.
“A devotion so strong it becomes binding, maybe even blinding —” Your eyes are still trained on the pair as they head deeper into the estate. “So much so that writer continues to stay, even when they’ve lost the greatest parts of themselves in the process.”
Ayato catches your eye before he disappears.
And he smiles.
Strained, polite, but a smile nonetheless.
Maybe it wasn’t the writer you should feel sorry for.
It was a sunny day, and for a while, all was well.
A young boy is chasing after you, eyes blue like the Inazuman sky in that tiny instance between day and night and smile as dazzling as the glimmers of the river flowing through Konda underneath the afternoon sun. If anyone were to look at him right now, they wouldn’t even think he was a noble’s son. His clothes were dirtied by sand, his sock drenched in sea water, and his hair tousled over by the breeze.
But he was Kamisato Ayato, son of the well-known and well-loved Kamisato Clan. He would one day inherit his father’s duties, but until then, he was just a boy.
A boy who was currently throwing a fit now that his playmate has gone where he could not follow.
“Hey, that’s cheating!” Ayato calls out to you from below the maple tree, face flushed from both the running and the exasperation at your sheer audacity to even cheat in what should’ve been a fair game of tag. “How am I supposed to get you there?!”
“That’s not my problem.” You stick your tongue out at Ayato, the action eliciting sounds of disbelief and annoyance from the boy. “If you wanted to, you would!”
And so Ayato climbs like his life depended on it, and while it may not, his pride surely did. Kamisato Ayato would let the Abyss consume all of Teyvat before he ever let anyone outsmart him, let alone the kid he’s been butting heads with since the day he started crawling.
However, you were already ahead of the kid, jumping off the tree right before he was able to grab onto you. You propel yourself off the branches with all your might, the wind whizzing wildly around you before you land on the grass.
But what you didn't anticipate, was tripping on a rock and falling to the ground,
Face first.
Ayato is laughing, and it only dies down as he climbs down, but it eventually picks up volume the moment his feet hit the ground. He’s slapping at his thigh, clutching his stomach, smile wide, and eyes crinkled in mirth as he watches your crumpled form on the ground.
Until you start crying that is.
Immediately, Ayato is straightening up and rushing over to your wailing figure, panic clear on his face as he starts frantically dusting the sand off your clothes.
“Hey, stop crying! It’s just a scratch.” Ayato says, but he realizes that he only made it worse when you start crying harder. It was then that the young boy learned that telling someone to stop crying would only make them cry harder. He’s starting to panic, not wanting to endure the scolding he’d receive from his parents if they found out that he contributed to the tears that were streaming down your face.
Until suddenly, a maple leaf falls, and Ayato is struck with a bright idea.
Ayato is grabbing it quickly, practically tripping over himself as he chases the leaf that was slowly getting closer and closer to the ground. When the leaf is finally in his hands, he runs to you.
“Here!” Ayato is holding out the maple leaf with two hands, red and vivid, freshly fallen from the branch. “A coupon!”
It seemed to have worked, the eccentricity of the offer managing to make you pause your cries to regard the leaf in Ayato’s hands.
You take the leaf, twirling and examining it from all angles to see what exactly was special about it. You look up at Ayato, cheeks still stained with tears, and lips still trembling. “Coupon for..?”
“A-Anything!” Ayato frantically replies, afraid that you’ll start crying again if he delays for another second. When you move to stand, Ayato’s placing his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to stay in place in fear that you’ll tattle on him. “I’ll do your homework, or get you some of those mochis. Anything!”
“Okay!” Your tone is suddenly bright, a grin overtaking your face as you stand up, remove his hands, brush yourself off, and walk back to his parents like you didn’t just fall face-first into the ground.
You ran to the adults who were resting by the shore, both cooing over little Ayaka who was still learning how to walk. When you get there, you only stop to pat the younger Kamisato sibling on the head before presenting the leaf you got from Ayato. “Look, Ayato gave me a coupon!”
“Oh. What for, dear?” Lady Kamisato, Ayato’s mother, asks gently with a smile. The woman was practically your second mother with how often your parents would bring you to the Kamisato Estate to play with the clan’s oldest son while they discussed the Yashiro Commission’s current concerns. You had become so familiar with the family that they would even take you on outings like this to play with Ayato while your parents were out doing business.
“He said I could use it for anything.” You reply with a grin, proud of your victory. A morally-questionable victory, but a victory nonetheless.
“Look at your son, already making terrible decisions.” Lord Kamisato sighs jokingly, and you only smile smugly. It’s either Ayato was a terrible decision-maker, or you were a grade A swindler. Either way, the younger you took his comment as a compliment. “What do you plan on getting with it?”
Without hesitation, the words leave your mouth with a confidence unmatched. “I’ll ask him to marry me!”
There’s silence.
Until there isn’t.
Lord Kamisato is laughing boisterously, Lady Kamisato giggles to herself, and Ayaka only looks at everyone with a puzzled expression before going back to playing with the sand.
“I guess we don’t have to worry about Ayato’s marriage then, yes?” Lord Kamisato turns to his wife with a grin, and Lady Kamisato only rolls her eyes with a small smile, lightly hitting the man with her fan.
And while that exchange happens, Ayato overhears it all, cheeks red and heart racing just a little bit faster. Whether it was from running over to explain himself or the sudden revelation, he wasn’t sure.