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The Kamisato Clan has been in a state of turmoil ever since the passing of the former Lord and Lady of the household.
Like sharks that have caught scent of blood, the other clans that populate Inazuma have begun to encroach upon the weakened Kamisatos, waiting for a moment to strike, decapitate and replace them as the rightful head of the Yashiro Commission.
The tension was palpable at the Kamisato Estate, even young Thoma—who had been taken in by the two surviving children of the clan—could tell that something was wrong. The other servants rarely talked, the adults huddled in groups, their conversations held in hushed, short whispers. The siblings have scarcely been seen in the passing days; their free time spent occupied by the remaining representatives of the Yashiro Commission, who no were doubt sizing them up, to see if they, and Ayato in particular, were strong enough to continue leading both the Kamisato Clan and the Yashiro Commission.
Thoma kept himself busy of course, his trusty duster was always at his side. He was clumsy, a housekeeper-in-training, but that didn’t deter him, if anything it encouraged him, motivating him to clean well into the late nights.
It was on one of these late nights that Thoma finally managed to catch Ayato alone.
He was nestled right beneath one of the trees that faced the ocean, mindlessly staring out into the never-ending sea, its rippling surface brought alight beneath the glow of the moon. Even his usual formal attire was ditched for a loose fitting kimono.
He was alone. A rare, but fleeting occurrence these days.
Thoma tried to tip-toe past, wary of breaking such a rare moment of solace for the young lord.
“Thoma?” Ayato’s voice rang out, soft but clear in the silence of the night.
“My Lord?” Thoma answered in kind, his voice hoarse from dust and disuse. He edged towards the fence that separated the two of them.
Ayato glanced at him. “I thought it was you. Those heavy footsteps are hard to mistake in this household.”
Thoma flushed. “Apologies, My Lord.”
Ayato chuckled. “No need to apologize, I was just teasing. So, what are you up to so late at night? Trying to sneak out?”
“No! I mean, no, My Lord. I was just, you know, cleaning.” Thoma waved the duster in his hand for emphasis, feeling his body flush in embarassment.
“Pity,” Ayato sighed.
“My Lord?”
“It's nothing.” Ayato got up from where he sat and stretched, his pale arms reaching up into the sky. “Just meandering thoughts.”
Ayato glanced at the ocean once more, and paused, as if in deep thought. “Could I ask you a question Thoma?”
“Of course My Lord.”
“Do you miss it?”
“My Lord?”
Ayato raised his arm towards the ocean, his gaze never wavering. “Sailing the seas, escaping from land. Is it like how they describe it in stories?”
Thoma paused for a moment, and thought back to those moments in that tiny boat. “It wasn’t… a particularly great experience, My Lord. The seas were a treacherous place, especially for a boat as small and flimsy as mine. There were many moments where I thought that I would die, my body taken by the sea.”
He could feel his chest tightening as those memories encroached upon him again, the feeling of his body tumbling into the endless sea, its liquid filling his lungs, threatening to snuff him out. He had fought so hard against it, the water, the tides. But in the ocean, only Its Will remains absolute. And in the end, all he could do was strain helplessly as his vision began to darken and the ocean leached away his strength, slowly pulling him into its still embrace.
“Thoma.”
Thoma gasped, and snapped back to his senses. His hands shook as they held his broom in a death grip. “A-apologies my Lord.”
“No,” Ayato sighed. “I should be the one apologizing, pardon my thoughtless questioning.”
“It's quite alright my Lord.”
The silence between the two stretched on for an unbearable moment afterwards. Thoma could feel Ayato’s eyes on him, for what reason he did not know, all that he knew was that he could not bring himself to meet his gaze.
“Do you trust me, Thoma?” Ayato asked, finally breaking the silence.
“Of course my Lord!” Thoma replied, whipping his head up to meet Ayato’s gaze. Even he was surprised at the speed of his reply.
The two stared at each other for a moment, before Ayato smiled. “Good.” And though it may have just been a trick of the night, Thoma could have sworn there was a shadow of sadness in that smile.
Ayato hopped over the fence and began to make his way towards the gate of the estate. He glanced back at Thoma. “Come on.”
And so Thoma followed.
The two made their way down to the beach that lay beneath the Kamisato Estate.
Thoma could smell the salt lingering in the air and feel the sand crunch beneath his feet. It was a familiar scene.
Ayato stopped right by the shoreline, where the calm ocean waves crested upon the edges of the light blonde beach.
“My Lord?” Thoma gazed at Ayato’s back, his silhouette illuminated by the moon.
Ayato took one step forward, and then another, until the water was up to his knees. The bottom of his kimono pooled around him, its pale blue deepening as they soaked in the sea.
Thoma moved his feet forward, wanting to follow, but he stopped right by the shoreline. He was unable to will himself any further.
“I would like to ask something of you Thoma, would that be okay?” Ayato asked the question, his head never turning back. His figure stood still in the ocean, unmoving and tranquil.
“Of course, My Lord.”
“Then close your eyes.”
“Oh, but-”
“Thoma.”
Thoma bit his bottom lip, but he closed his eyes nonetheless.
He waited for a moment, and then that moment stretched on until he thought that this was another one of his Lord’s pranks. And just as he was about to open his eyes, he felt a warm hand grab a hold of his own, and had to stifle a gasp at the sudden touch.
The hand was firm, its palm and fingers covered in hardened calluses. And though he did not express it, Thoma felt a tinge of sorrow as his own hand wrapped around the other. This was not a hand that should belong to someone so young.
The hand pulled him deeper in, and this time he did gasp when he felt the ocean water seep into his sandals.
“My Lord…?” Thoma whispered, his tone uncertain.
There was no reply, just a gentle squeeze from the hand that held onto his own. Their ankles were nestled in the swaying sea. A hand, just as callused as the other, grabbed a hold of Thoma’s other hand, and brought the two together, cupping them gently.
“Don’t open your eyes until I tell you to,” Ayato whispered into Thoma’s ear, his voice low and soft.
Thoma’s ears burned as he felt Ayato’s breath brush up against his skin, but he nodded. And then he felt something get placed in between his hands. It was warm, yet comforting, like the palm of a familiar hand.
He felt the world shift around him. The ocean tides softened, silencing with a sigh. Even the water surrounding his legs had stilled. It was as if he was no longer in the ocean, and if it were not for the smell of salt lingering in the air, he truly would have thought so. And then, just above whatever was in his hands, he began to feel something take shape. It was if his hands were being enveloped by the morning mist, touching something fragile and just barely tangible.
“Open them.” Ayato whispered.
And so Thoma did, and his eyes widened as they looked down.
In between his hands laid a pale blue flower, its complexion akin to the silvery moonlight that surrounded them, emanating just enough light to reflect in his eyes. And beneath it, laid a deep blue gem, that seemed to almost pulsate ever so slightly in between his hands.
“You have a vision!?” Thoma exclaimed.
Ayato smiled slightly. “Surprise.”
Thoma stared at Ayato in a state of shock, a thousand questions rushing through his head, but they were silenced in a moment as his eyes locked onto something, well, many somethings, that were floating just beyond him.
Surrounding them, in the still waters that they now stood, were countless flowers, just as beautiful as the one that resided in his hand. They drifted along, almost carelessly, quelling the waves in their wake. They were like paper lanterns, glowing gently in the night, basking the two of them in a pale blue light.
“My Lord…” Thoma breathed out the words, he didn’t know what to say.
“A parting gift,”’ Ayato gazed at Thoma, his eyes softening. “A new memory to replace what has already come to pass.”
Thoma’s eyebrows scrunched together as he listened. “A parting… gift? ”
Ayato smiled sadly and let go of Thoma’s hands. “I lied earlier. I have something to ask of you, but it is not something as simple as closing your eyes. The future is… murky to say the least, my own position is tenuous, not to mention those who surround me. You are one who holds little stake in this battle we are embroiled in, and I cannot, with good intentions, ask you to stay. This is not your fight to fight.” Ayato placed his hands on Thoma’s shoulders, peering deeply into his green eyes. “I say this as a friend, not as the head of the Kamisato Clan. Leave us. Go home.”
Thoma stared into Ayato’s eyes, those damned eyes which never seemed to betray even a fleeting thought. Even now, when they were so close, he was unreadable. He was giving him an out, a means to escape back to his life of normalcy in Mondstadt, but could he do that? Could he forget all that they’ve given, all that he’s given, and leave without a second thought?
He felt something deep inside his gut begin to warm.
He could not.
“You are too cruel, My Lord.” Thoma said.
“Thoma?” Ayato's eyes widened in surprise.
Thoma separated his hands, letting the flower that he had held dissipate into fine sea mist. Ayato’s vision fell into the sea. He gripped onto Ayato’s arms, locking him in place. His eyes and nose burned. “You want me to leave? To forget everything that you and the young lady have done? You ask too much of me, My Lord. ” Thoma could feel his voice wavering, but he could not stop, he would not stop. “I know the future is uncertain, I have heard the whispers, and how they talk about you. But I cannot leave. My father did not raise me to turn tail and flee at the first sign of conflict. I will not, I cannot, abandon you to face this future alone.”
Thoma gathered Ayato’s hands together, and this time it was he who cupped them in a warm embrace, his eyes never parting from Ayato’s. “The path you are on, the paths that you will take in the future. I will take them with you, step by step. No matter the cost, no matter what lies ahead.” He smiled at Ayato, his cheeks wet and warm. “After all, that is what a helper should do, is it not?”
Ayato gritted his teeth and broke free of Thoma’s grasp. His eyes were red, and his voice was soft and hoarse as he whispered, “You are a fool.” He wrapped his arms around Thoma and brought him close.
Thoma stilled at the sudden contact, before relaxing and wrapping his own arms around Ayato. “A fool that I am, but I am your fool nonetheless,” he whispered in turn.
And beneath the ocean, a red gem–as bright and bashful as its owner–appeared beside its blue counterpart. Like two halves clicking into place, they nestled close to each, each fearing to part from the other, their figures hidden amongst a sea of white camellias.