Archive of Our Own

When Ayato was young, there used to be a legend in Inazuma. It told the story of a capricious god who would grant any wish, as long as you offer a suitable sacrifice. Once, a fisherman begged the god to cure his family of an incurable curse. The god granted the wish and unleashed his power, calling thunder down from the heavens and turning the skies red. The next day, the fisherman's family had risen from their deathbeds, but they found themselves bereft of a father. In exchange for his family's life, the god had taken the fisherman's soul into his servitude. To this day, on moonless nights, you could see him wandering the streets, wearing the face of someone dear to you, offering all that you could ever want if only you would come to see his god at the island down south.

Now that he was an adult, Ayato was well aware that legends were little more than warnings, weaved in the form of tales to pass down to children. A horror story to make sure kids were too afraid to wander off after dark, rumours of haunting so people would stop wandering into dangerous areas. He had utilised them more than once; in Inazuma, the supernatural is to be respected and left alone, and to be left alone is very useful for one such as the Shuumatsuban.

Thus, any legends that came into his ears were to be heard, but not paid attention to. They were idle fantasies at best or outright misdirections at worst. Such things are a waste of time for one like him, who had a clan to tend to and a family to protect. Myths and legends are hardly going to hold any relevance in his life.

Or at least, it never had. Not until he found himself standing on the shores of these nameless islands, chasing after ghosts. Looking for Thoma's long-lost father on the basis of little more than wishful thinking.

He had hoped—

—he had only hoped to accomplish one little miracle. To do this one thing for Thoma, so that Ayato could begin to repay him for all the trouble had gone through in the clan's name. Something that would make him happy enough to not regret his decision to stay; perhaps, even happy enough to finally consider Inazuma his home. To never again gaze wistfully across the horizon, where the silhouette of Cape Oath rose over the sea.

Instead, he had done little more than chase after fantasies. But he had to try. For all that Thoma had done, Ayato owed it to him to at least try.

Even though in the end, he would have to return empty-handed.

Troubled, Ayato gazed at the silhouette of Tsurumi Island on the horizon. According to the workers of Jakotsu Mine, the man he was looking for had sailed south in pursuit of a certain medicine. The sky had bled red a couple of days after, and the man himself never returned.

In the end, the trail of Thoma's father had gone cold in an old ghost story. And while Kamisato Ayato was many things, not even he was capable of bringing a man from a legend back to life.

The pirates at South Narukami Sea were getting bolder.

Technically, the safety of Inazuma's seas was none of Ayato's concern. The Yashiro Commission had very little business meddling with the security of Inazuma; their domain was over the people, festivals and ceremonies and wishes for the future that made up a human's life. However, Ayato was keenly aware that the Yashiro Commission was no monolith. Any trouble in Inazuma would inevitably affect them, one way or another. Take the pirates, for example. Their very presence would disrupt trade, driving prices up for primary goods. Rising prices would mean rising poverty and need for social welfare, which would end up as Ayaka's responsibility.

As such, if the Tenryou Commission was incapable of dealing with the problem, it would be advisable for Ayato to... help out a little. Not directly, perhaps; to do so would only taint the Tenryou Commission's image further. Besides, Ayato couldn't boast the kind of military resources required to deal with the problem. What he excelled at was finding the best points to apply pressure to get the result he wanted.

That's where the Shuumatsuban comes in.

Ayato hummed as he considered the problem. Not many people had information on Seirai Island; the place had been used as a bandit's nest for decades, its hostile nature preventing anyone but the dregs of society from getting too close. And while he had a very good picture of the power dynamics of Inazuma's underground, the Seirai Island pirates have always been just a little bit isolated from their peers. But not unreachable, and, if he remembered correctly, not undefeatable.

"Thoma," he said, tapping his pen against the table. "Fetch me my journal, please. The one with the Seirai Island tag. There should be just the one."

There was a rustle from the direction of the archive room. "Just a moment, my Lord."

It didn't take Thoma long to find the journal. Ayato's office held many materials of the strictest confidence, and Thoma was the one who kept them all in order. Other servants may come in and clean, but none would venture near Ayato's work under Thoma's watchful gaze. Even if they did, they would find little of interest. Ayato wrote his notes in his own unique script, and Thoma was one of the three people in the world capable of reading it.

There were a few consequences to having grown up together, chief amongst them knowing your lord's mind well enough to decipher most code he could come up with. These days, Ayato had accepted that there was just no hiding things from Thoma. His Chief Retainer would always be privy to most of his secrets, and Ayato saw no reason to mind.

"I didn't know you've been to Seirai Island," was Thoma's comment as he emerged from the archive room. "I'm fairly sure it hasn't been on any of your itineraries."

"An unplanned detour," Ayato said. "It was still crawling with balethunder, then. I only alighted on its shores for a while before leaving again."

Not the whole truth. Ayato had combed every corner of Seirai Island that a human could conceivably reach, scaring off bandits and pirates so thoroughly in the process. Reports of their activities in the area had ceased for three whole months after. It should've been an arduous experience, and yet, if not for his journal, Ayato would've thought the whole thing a fever dream. All he remembered was a feeling of desperation. A faint hope that he could repay the debt he owed Thoma for almost letting him die, thrice. The creeping certainty that soon enough, Thoma would decide that he was better off living in Mondstadt or swearing fealty to another lord who knew how to perform the basic duty of keeping their liege safe from harm.

Nowadays, there were too many debts and favours owed between them that there was no point keeping count. Their lives were so entangled with each other that any favour owed to Ayato was a favour owed to Thoma, and any debt Thoma incurred was one that Ayato would gladly repay.

"Here it is," Thoma said. He placed the journal in front of Ayato, precisely at the exact angle that he liked to read and write in. "Trouble in Seirai, my Lord? I thought things are getting better out there."

Ayato flipped the journal open. "Our friend the Traveller has done Inazuma a great service by fixing the warding stones, but for the moment, the only people benefiting from their actions are the lowlives of Inazuma. The pirates based in the area have taken great advantage of the lack of balethunder; now they have an island's worth of resources at their disposal. They are growing stronger and bolder; if they are not dealt with soon, they are going to start wreaking havoc on our trade routes."

Most people would wonder why that was even a problem for Ayato to solve; not Thoma. "I see. I'll talk to Captain Beidou and see what she had to say about it. She's docked in Ritou for the night; we can hire her to detour through South Narukami Sea and check on things. Should I send Sayu with her?"

Sometimes, Ayato wondered what kind of heroic deed he had done in his past life to deserve someone like Thoma. "That would be great. Thank you, Thoma."

Thoma's responding smile was bright as the summer sun and just as warm. "It's always a pleasure, my Lord."

A dangerous habit, for sure. The thoughts of a high-ranking official were highly sought after, for they could easily be leveraged in one's dealings against him. As a result, Ayato developed a habit of journaling in codes and metaphors, using a script he crafted to pass secret notes to Ayaka, back when he had been eleven. He had refined the script since then, but even if someone did manage to interpret them, most would simply think that said notes were mere experiments with poetry. Attempts at immortalising the beautiful sights he saw in his travels, interspersed with his thoughts on the beauty of Inazuma.

If they didn't hold such deep secrets, Ayaka would have encouraged her brother to publish them.

In between the pages of these journals were small sheets of paper. Messages for the clan head, encoded in poetry and rewritten in Ayato's meticulous hand. Unlike the entries, these were mundane notes about day-to-day life in the Estate, courtesy of Ayaka and Thoma. These were Ayaka's favourites, and she made a habit of dropping by Ayato's office to see the poetry her brother had crafted from her simple words. In this way, she had kept up with her elusive brother's moods as well as familiarized herself with the Kamisato Clan's secret information trove.

Just last afternoon, she had left him a note asking him to try the mochi-flavoured boba she had tried to make. The paper she found in his journal read,

Snow on sakura

Pearls shine within a sweet lake

A radiant dream

Only Ayato would immortalise her silly attempt at creative cuisine as a haiku of a springtime reverie.

She tucked the paper back into his journal, smiling to herself. Even though she kept up with each of Ayato's lighthearted notes, his weighty journal entries went completely ignored. She had little interest in reading those; if there was anything she needed to know, Ayato would've told her himself.

As she returned the journal to the shelf, though, another one caught her attention. It was clearly old, for the paper was already yellowing, and yet it was placed on the office shelves by the newer journals instead of the archives. She didn't think she had ever seen it before.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Ayaka took the journal and flipped through it. There was no scrap of paper in this one; only pages after pages of poetry, written in a rough, hurried hand. Through the pages ran a theme of oppressive darkness absent in Ayato's usual poetries. An entry went on at length on how Inazuma's seas are stained red by the sunset, with the shadows being the only refuge; another spoke of shadows amongst wooden beams, amongst which spirits liked to prowl. The next couple of entries told the tale of the ghost of a madman journeying across the stars to douse the sun, ending with a short entry about how the spirit ended up burnt by the sun's flames. There was also poetry about a dark storm raging across Ritou, and the rays of sun that stubbornly shone through despite everything.

The imageries were so vivid she couldn't help the memories that surfaced in her mind. The red sheen that pufferfish venom left after being mixed with treated Naku weed oil. A house that is no longer a home, for its inhabitants can no longer distinguish friend or foe. The Kamisato Clan's old Chief Retainer, trying to frame Thoma for an assassination attempt, only to be foiled and executed for his own betrayal. Ayato, summoning rain over Ritou to prevent Thoma from burning down the city during his desperate escape from assassins.

With a start, Ayaka realized that this was the journal Ayato had kept early after his ascendancy as the Clan Head. Back then, she was still too young to truly understand the kind of situation her brother had to contend with. He had always kept a calm smile on his face, even when he came back exhausted, wounded, to a desk still piled high with work. Not even the persistent dark shadows around his eyes had betrayed the pervasive sadness permeating these poetries.

Heartsick, she closed the journal. She knew her brother had gone through much for her, but... compared to his lighthearted poetry these days, the ones she just read felt uncomfortably bleak.

Thwack.

Ayaka startled, looking down. A thick wad of documents had slipped out and scattered all over the floor. Unlike the journal entries, these were not written in her brother's hand. And yet, their presence in Ayato's journal spoke of their confidentiality.

Kneeling, she hurried to gather them, but she paused at a piece of immigration paper. Dated about twenty years ago, it documented a man from Mondstadt who entered Ritou's port for a visit to his family.

Who was this man and why would Ayato consider his documents important enough to be stored in his personal journal? Could he be...

"When you're done with that, I can tidy it up for you, my Lady."

Ayaka jumped. "Thoma!"

Thoma smiled. "Sorry for bothering you. You were planning to go to Narukami City to discuss fireworks availability for our festivals within the next year. You might have to hurry if you don't wish to be late...?"

She had forgotten. Flustered, Ayaka hurriedly gathered the papers. "I'll just put this back," she said. "Thoma, why is this journal here? Shouldn't it be kept in the archives?"

"My Lord is working on it, as he needed some information regarding the pirates of Seirai Island," Thoma said. "He's concerned about pirate activity in the area. A couple of days ago, he tipped Kujou Sara on some crucial intel; the Tenryou Commission's armies should be arriving on the island any day now."

"Armies?" Ayaka said. She slipped the papers back into the journal before returning the journal to its place. "Are they trying to put a stop to the pirates altogether?"

"Most likely," Thoma said. "The intel my Lord sent included plans on a guerilla war against Narukami, and the Kujou Clan would've been amongst the first casualties. The plan itself is not likely to succeed, but..."

"Treason is treason," Ayaka said quietly. "Someone will have to make sure that no innocent civilians will get caught in the crossfire."

"Seirai Island has been empty for anything but bandits for a long time," Thoma said reassuringly. "You don't have to worry, my Lady. The innocent people of Inazuma will remain safe."

"And may they remain so for all eternity," Ayaka said heavily. "Let's go, Thoma."

As a result, the proceedings were done one day early, and Ayato found himself with some unexpected free time. As he was wont to do these days, he headed straight for home. A game of shogi and a nice dinner with his family sounded like a wonderful way to end the week before he dove into mitigating the repercussions of the Tenryou Commission's war against the Seirai Island pirates.

After all, if they were to make Seirai livable again, the Yashiro Commission would have a lot to do to turn the hostile island into a livable place once more.

He found Ayaka in his own office, so engrossed in a book that she didn't even notice his entrance. Ayato tapped the doorframe gently. "I'm home."

"Oniisama!" Ayaka jumped. "Welcome home. How was your meeting?"

"It went incredibly well," Ayato said, closing the door. "We got everything we wanted. And to think all I had to do all along was to have Hiiragi Shinsuke and Kujou Takayuki ousted from their seats..."

"Oniisama," Ayaka said disapprovingly. Ayato smiled. Out of everyone, his sister was the one who best understood that he could not afford to be careless with his words.

"My bad," Ayato said. He joined his sister's side, peering into the book she was holding. "But we can speak freely here, can't we?"

Ten years ago, they wouldn't have been. But Thoma, dear, precious Thoma, had rooted out every single traitor in the Estate and kept them out ever since. The refreshing feeling of having a safe home was one that Ayato held precious, and he would forever be grateful to Thoma for it.

"Hmm," Ayaka murmured. "We should still be careful. Oniisama, I found some papers stored in this journal, not long after you left. Did you send someone to fetch them?"

Ayato blinked. "No. What papers?"

Ayaka snapped the journal shut. "One of them was documentation for a Mondstadtian man who entered Ritou about two decades ago."

"They're probably official documents on Thoma's father," Ayato said. "I went looking for him, not long after—well. It doesn't matter. If I remember correctly, those files last placed him at Seirai, though my own investigations didn't end there... Are they missing? Have you... asked Thoma?"

"Yes, and no," Ayaka said. She slid the journal back onto the shelf. "I couldn't find Thoma anywhere, and the servants haven't seen him in days. Oniisama..."

"I know," Ayato murmured. Missing documents, in itself, was not an immediate cause of alarm; with the amount of paperwork in the office, it was almost expected for things to slip here and there. They would turn up eventually, usually when Thoma brought his army of servants to clean the office for the day. More worrying was the fact that Thoma himself seemed to have gone missing. While it was not uncommon for them to go without seeing him for several days, it was surprising for the servants to not have seen him at all. Out of the three of them, Thoma's duties have always kept him closer to home.

Ayato turned to his own desk, and his eyes caught on a flash of white. In front of his chair, in the middle of the desk, laid three envelopes, stacked neatly. From here, he could see that the top envelope was stamped with a very familiar crest.

A camellia flower, wreathed in fire.

"Ayaka," he said. Within moments, she was rushing towards the desk, rifling through the envelopes. The first one, she set aside. So did the second one. The third one, she opened, and immediately began to read.

Ayato followed at a more sedate pace. The first envelope she discarded was addressed to the Head of the Kamisato Clan, and the formality shot unease through his spine. The second one was addressed to Lord Kamisato Ayato. A blotch of ink had fallen on the corner, marring the otherwise pristine surface.

To his left, Ayaka sucked in a quiet gasp. Her expression was a study in heartbreak; her eyes were wide and fearful, yet there was fury in the slant of her mouth. Her fingers, normally gentle and careful, clutched the paper tight enough to crumple it. When she was finished reading, she folded up the letter, slammed it on Ayato's table, and left without a word.

That Thoma of all people had managed to inspire such a reaction from Ayaka... Ayato frowned. Carefully, he unfolded the second envelope and started to read.

My Lord,

As you are reading this, you may have noticed that some papers are missing from your Seirai Island journals. As they are unencoded, I judged them too dangerous to leave in the archive room. I have taken the liberty of storing them in your bedroom safe, so you may encode them or dispose of them as you see fit. I trust you will find them with no trouble.

It was not my intention to read your files. I just wanted to store some new intelligence from Sayu in the right place, and I couldn't help but see them. I don't understand why in twelve years you've never mentioned that you knew where my father

My Lord, I believe you have very good reasons to hide the papers from me. However, a war is brewing at Seirai Island. If my father is out there, I have to find him before it breaks. I won't lose him a second time.

I am aware that the kind of trouble I am heading into is not fit for the Chief Retainer of the Kamisato Clan. Therefore, I have left a resignation letter on your desk; it should be sufficient to clear your name of any mess I will inevitably be involved in.

I am terribly sorry that we must part in this way, Lord Ayato. I will miss you and Lady Ayaka. I hope you will continue to thrive in the future, even if I can only watch from afar instead of by your side. Please know that whatever happens in the future, I will always be grateful for all you've done for me.

Forever yours,

Thoma