Work Text:
The Kamisato Estate is well-removed from the rest of Inazuma City, yet accessible enough for those who seek it to find it easily. One of the advantages of having the estate at the edge of the cliff is there is less ground to cover for security. Natural barriers tend to discourage anyone with less than savory intentions, therefore leaving only the dedicated to actually put their machinations to practice. This is not a coincidence, Ayato thinks mildly, eyes razing over the paperwork while sipping tea.
The sun is young in the sky and the Commissioner’s candles are still lit; he has pulled yet another all-nighter in order to get a few papers worth of extra work done. The upcoming festival celebrating the end of the Archon War has been a point of explicit stress, with the Tri-Commission being tasked to deliver upon the most fantastic celebration as of date. The Raiden Shogun came out of her shell, and she did it with full vigor.
Setting the cup down on the table, Ayato brings the free hand up to his eyes, and rubs the tired orbs with his thumb and point fingers. Normally, an all-nighter does not affect him; he has pulled enough of them to be missing years’ worth of sleep at this point, however, the taxing job of managing logistics and ensuring that all the cultural paraphernalia is considered has been a daunting task, even for him. It is slightly concerning for one such as himself, who is not safe even under the tentative peace that has been forged among the political landscape of the nation.
Everyday, he receives more intel from the Shuumatsuban about a potential threat, or a threat that was snuffed before it could reach the Commissioner, and while Ayato is more than capable of handling whatever an enemy can throw at him, he is merely a mortal. One day, he may slip up. It is not unheard of for a novice to snipe victory from a master; it is therefore highly likely for individuals trained specifically for taking out important political figures to catch him off-guard. Like right now.
Ayato sighs, dropping the paper in a flop and resting his elbows on the table. He feels lightheaded and unfocused, and it really should not be so difficult to plan for an important cultural festival, especially with Ayaka insisting on taking more of the work. No, perhaps another matter has been weighing him down, existing in the recesses of his mind but not forgotten.
The matter of the Balladeer is an ongoing problem, one that may boil over any day or may never come to light ever again, yet Ayato seems to fixate on it from time to time, when his brain slows down from the work he should be doing and settles into quiet contemplation instead. This must be one of those times, mind wandering from the jumbled mess of words on the paper. Perhaps he is due for a break. The rest of the household must be waking up now, and it would be beneficial for his sluggish mind to not incite the scolding concern both Thoma and Ayaka will surely express upon discovering he has spent his 4th night up in a row.
There is a knock on the door, and he slowly closes his eyes in a gesture of letting go of that particular thought. It seems he has no other choice but to face the music, as they would say.
“Come in,” he intones and the lack of strength in his voice surprises him as well. Perhaps skipping dinner had not been a good idea. Regardless, he shoves the observation aside and makes himself as presentable as someone running on 6 hours of sleep in 5 days could look.
“Ah, I know it’s still a bit early, brother, but I was hoping you would eat breakfast…”
Ayato sees the moment the realization settles in his sister’s soft blue eyes. As Ayaka’s friendly gaze lands on him, the structure of her amiable expression shifts into something decidedly less than ideal. Her smile dissipates into a downturned lips and her relaxed eyebrows furrow into a frown. It is not a look he likes being the cause of.
“Again?” She asks, despite them both knowing the answer. Ayato does not offer a verbal response, instead opting to smile and show yes, I did not sleep last night again.
“You look as if you got bested in battle by hilichurls who then proceeded to plunder all your possessions.” There is no bite in her tone, only the slightest hint of disappointment, and he finds it infinitely worse. It is not like he chooses to neglect his health on purpose - surely that is understandable enough.
“Ayaka, I did say that I would rest after this festival was done and over with. There are simply too many details to consider for maintaining the authenticity of this historical event.”
Somehow, his tone shifts from initially chiding to the exhausted muttering of a government worker who has more work loaded onto them than they can take, and his mind takes a second to catch up on the fact that he is the government worker. Ayaka folds her arms, unimpressed.
Ayato clears his throat and tries to gather the composure he still possesses, and instead finds he cannot bring himself to care. A long-suffering sigh escapes his lips and his shoulders sag as he lets go of the weight his barely functioning body struggles to carry.
“You always do this, brother,” Ayaka says, deflating slightly as a mournful look settles in her deep eyes. “When will you understand that I am prepared, and more than capable, of handling more work than you deem I should. We are not children anymore.”
She walks forward and sits down on her knees opposite him, and the look of pure pain that rests in her face gnaws at the guilt in his heart. Of course, she is right. Ayaka is a wonderful woman, strong and firm, yet gentle and elegant. She has achieved everything on her own merit, and who is he to assume to monitor what work she should and should not do.
But, before everything, she is his sister. The little sister both Father and Mother asked him to protect and cherish on their respective death beds. He was the older brother, so it was his utmost priority to keep Ayaka safe from the vile hands of those who coveted the power of the Kamisato Clan. If not him, then who else would take up such a task?
Ayato trusts his sister with his life, but trust is not why he prefers to bear most of the workload. It is because he feels she already does enough, that she should still be able to enjoy the life she has slowly cultivated under his relative protection. It is difficult to retract the shield he extended towards her, completely covered her with, and let her fly free like the cranes around the estate.
“Ayato, I staged a whole rebellion under the regime of the Raiden Shogun.” She extends her hands out, and his own automatically respond. She holds them with a delicateness that he has not experienced for a very long time. “I can handle some paperwork.”
Ayato pretends to think about it; really, he’s just trying to keep up with his sleep-deprived brain. He thinks back to the threats the Shuumatsuban regularly report on and comes to the morbid conclusion that handing over more responsibility to Ayaka is in the best interest of his continued survival. He frowns; that is not the way he wants to relinquish more work to his sister. That’s not what she deserves.
“I suppose you’ll come to a decision eventually,” Ayaka speaks, perhaps mistaking his shift in expression for a hint of rejection, and Ayato does not correct her because another excuse is impossible to come up with in the jumbled thoughts running in his mind.
“For now, though, you’re eating something, and going to sleep. No buts. I will have Thoma lock the door and have a guard stationed just to ensure you do not leave for work when you are in no condition to do so.”
Some awake, rational part of Ayato’s brain protests at the aggressive caretaking, but he pushes the cries down and shoves them to the furthest corner of his mind, and smiles fondly.
He knows there is no point in arguing with Ayaka when she takes that tone with him.