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Kamisato Ayato was not a man of very many words.
Unlike his sister, who was prized in the eyes of Inazuma for her elegant kindness and polite diplomacy, he opted to stay in the shadows. Of course, there were certain times that warranted a public appearance- making a speech, attending a commemorative festival, giving statements on behalf of the Yashiro Commission in places his sister wasn’t qualified for… the list went on, though none of it could be considered leisurely.
To put it simply; Kamisato Ayato was everything that his sister wasn’t.
But, that was how he preferred it. It took excruciating years and long, monotonous months, just to structure this exact life.
Keep Ayaka in the hearts of the nation. Keep Ayaka out of the dark side of diplomacy and politics. Preserve as much of Ayaka’s childhood as possible. Work until you’re nauseous, until it’s been a week with no more than ten hours of sleep, until your arms feel as though they’re going to wilt away and your eyes are close to drooling down your cheeks. Do as much as possible, so that she doesn’t have to. Work to provide a home, a reputation, a life. Work to be the entire family that she never got to fully experience. Be Mother and be Father, but be Brother; be Lord Kamisato and the Yashiro Commissioner; be it all.
Teach her how to fight. Ignore how your hand trembles with anxiety as you watch her discreetly smell the tea she’s been served, pointing at one cup out of three. Ignore the queasiness in your throat as she confidently tells you that this is the poisoned cup, that she’s taken your words to heart when advising her to memorize each subtle smell.
Ignore your yearning as it’s her eighteenth birthday and you can barely show up for more than an hour, pulling her in for a tight hug as you whisper that she’s grown so much, that you’re proud beyond words. Ignore the ache as you’re forced to attend a meeting in the shadows, Shuumatsuban pouncing as you feel a sharpshooter behind you lock their targets on the back of your head.
Yes- such a life was needed, such a life was warranted. This, was how Kamisato Ayato chose to live.
“Thoma,” he hummed, quill elegantly scraping across his page. “Would you mind fetching me a second inkwell? I fead that mine is near the end of its life,” he chuckled, watching his letters fade mid-stroke.
“Yes, my Lord. However… don’t you think that you should maybe take a break? Just a quick five minutes… I got you that pot just this morning, surely it running out is a sign to stretch. You can leave for five minutes, the world won’t end!” Thoma chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.
From above his reading glasses, Ayato turned an eyebrow up. “I vaguely recall you saying the same thing this morning. I took a break earlier- I went on a walk in the gardens to stretch a bit.”
“Well.. you could do it again! It’s a beautiful night, my Lord. Besides, you really should eat. You turned down lunch, so I need you to eat dinner.” Turning around, the blonde moved over to the storage cabinet in the corner of Ayato’s office, searching for a fresher inkwell.
“My, such a needy housekeeper I’ve gotten. You ‘need’ me to? And if I don’t? Will you simply keel over and die, left to wither by my feet?” Ayato teased, dipping his quill back in the remains of his inkwell.
Quietly laughing, Thoma turned around with a bashful smile. “Maybe I will! I’ll roll over on my back, like a sad little beetle. I bet you won’t even bury me, will you? I’ll just get whisked away in the constant flow of papers…”
“Nonsense. I would never do that to my favorite retainer. In fact, I would take you to someone who could preserve you, and then I’d have myself a delightful little Thoma paperweight. Even in death, you’d still be picking up after me.” Ayato leisurely hummed, the corners of his lips tugging up into a playful smirk.
“I’m honored, my Lord. I’ll be the best paperweight that you ever had.” Thoma seriously responded, shaking his head and quietly laughing afterwards. “But… really, please eat. Accompany me to the kitchen? I’ll make you anything.”
“Ah, and now my paperweight is pleading with me, making demands. What a world…”
“You’re so stubborn,” the blonde quietly scolded, walking around Ayato’s chair to stand behind him. Bringing his hands up, he gently placed his palms on Ayato’s shoulders, feeling the man stiffen under his touch. Once he relaxed into it, Thoma waited a moment longer until he was confident that Ayato was comfortable with his touch, and began to knead his fingers into the muscles.
Almost immediately, the Yashiro Commissioner leaned into it with a quiet groan. Leaving his quill in the pot, Ayato let his head drop slightly, eyebrows knit together.
The silence that followed was a comfortable one, with Thoma steadily easing the tension from Ayato’s neck and shoulders, thumbs rubbing small circles alongside his spine. Occasionally, there would be a slightly pained grunt, followed a sheepish apology.
“Still alive?” Thoma teased, cocking his head.
“No,” came the reply, “but I feel that you do too much for me.”
“Too much?”
“Mm… yes. For years, you’ve been satisfied simply picking up what I’ve missed. Tending to Ayaka, being the friend she needed, being the friend that I needed. I know you’ve said this before, yet I still fail to comprehend. You could have so much to your name, Thoma, yet you insist on staying by my side. You don’t even voice your irritations to me when I’m so stubborn that I can see your threads fray.”
Thoma’s hands slowed down at Ayato’s admission, processing his words. “I don’t expect anything from you, my Lord. You’ve always given me somewhere to go. Even when the Kamisato Clan was struggling, and I was just someone who cleaned up and sometimes helped you with official matters, you kept me. You didn’t dismiss me when other servants got laid off, you never judged me as an outlander, and you trusted me. You gave me a purpose, and I intend to fulfill that entirely.”
“Avoiding the subject of irritation, are we?” The Commissioner breathily asked, turning his head a bit so that he could shoot Thoma a softened glance.
“No, no. I get plenty irritated, my Lord. If I didn’t, I think I’d be a rather bad friend, don’t you think? Like… right now! I’m irritated that you’re not eating dinner, so I’m taking it out on your shoulders. Such a bad retainer, I am… tsk, tsk. Abusing my own boss for my own gain…”
Ayato swiftly caught Thoma’s wrist, tugging him closer as he turned his chair around. No longer did his gaze hold the playful glint that it had, but instead, a sense of desperation.
“Why? I can’t provide for you the same way I provide for Ayaka. I can’t replace the years you missed with your family, I can’t dissuade those who dismiss you as a foreigner, I can’t protect you from anyone who wishes to use you against me. I can for Ayaka, but you… are different. And though you know this, you insist on serving me day in, day out. Even when you don’t see me for weeks, even when I’m so exhausted that I’m angered, even when the Yashiro Commission suddenly falls under a busy spell. You confuse me, Thoma. I don’t think I can ever understand you.” He whispered, heavy eyelashes adding depth to his blue eyes as he searched for an answer in his retainer’s.
This time, Thoma took longer to respond. Looking troubled for a brief moment, Ayato wondered if that was perhaps the tipping point- only for Thoma to tenderly cup his cheek, thumb running under his eye.
“I just do. It’s what I want to do. You work so hard, knowing that almost nobody will ever truly acknowledge it. I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again- I’m not leaving you. I know you can’t provide for me like you provide for Ayaka, my Lo- no, Ayato. And that’s fine, because I don’t mind, and I don’t expect that. Knowing I can take care of you, honestly takes care of me. I feel like my Vision is a testament to that, so if you don’t believe me, then believe the gods.” He murmured, free hand dropping down to graze against the surface of his Vision.
“An odd person,” Ayato finally sighed, leaning his head into Thoma’s hand. “I can’t keep you safe from this nation, Thoma. You should have returned to Mondstadt while the borders were still open. Inazuma is not a safe place, and it’s taking all of my power to ensure that my sister and this clan stay afloat in the midst of a war. Perhaps, when we were younger, this was different. When you wished to remain by my side as I regrew the Clan, I could confidently shelter you from everything, but… the world is changing, and only those in high standing can stay up.” Pausing again, he exhaled, closing his eyes to whisper his next confession. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose you in the waves, and this time, I won’t find you washed ashore.”
Giving the Commissioner a soft, sympathetic gaze, Thoma continued. “But, it’s not just Ayaka and I. You do so much for others, Ayato. You helped Kazuha escape Inazuma, and gave him a part of our land for him to make a grave. You discreetly provide for the Resistance, you keep in touch with Captain Beidou, you keep the fake Vision market a secret. You even set aside time to indulge Itto, which I’d say is a pretty big deal for someone like you.” He laughed, smiling fondly at Ayato. Moving his hand, he lovingly pinched at the residual fat on his cheek, but soon went back to cupping his face. “I stay by your side because it’s my place. It’s been my place for years, and I’d quite like it if it stayed that way. If you ever want me gone, just… say the word, my Lord, and I’ll be gone. But don’t be surprised if you find me sitting outside, since I’d like to think I’m hard to get rid of.”
With another sigh, Ayato’s whole body deflated, and he slumped into his chair. Defeated, he let the corners of his lips curl upwards, before he swiftly pressed an adoring kiss to Thoma’s palm. “Well, then. I must say, this isn’t quite how I expected my paperwork to progress. I really do have quite a bit to work though, several propositions and Shuumatsuban orders. Though… would you indulge me in dinner, after all? I won’t make you cook. I daresay that I’ve worked you to the bone, today. Let’s go out, we can bring something back for Ayaka, and I’d quite appreciate something sweet for dessert.”
Eyes crinkling at the corners, Thoma gave Ayato a lovesick smile, helping him stand. “Of course, my Lord. We can go anywhere you’d like, if they’re still open. I won’t rat you out to the nutritionist if you eat unhealthily, either.”
“Ah, so, you’re saying I could have you?”
“Get your roaming hands away! Uh- hey, I’m not unhealthy!”
Perhaps, the life that Kamisato Ayato had envisioned for himself wasn’t exactly such. Everything he did for Ayaka, he did for countless others, in his own way.
Although he couldn’t teach Thoma how to detect assassination attempts hidden behind tea meetings, he could show him how to detect when a letter requesting his presence had been forged. And, while he couldn’t be the family that Thoma lost- not in the way that he had learned how to be a family for Ayaka- he could help build his own.
Yes, this seemed right. Himself, Ayaka, Thoma… even Taroumaru, with the canine’s knowing gaze and eternal contracts- this is what he could provide.
This is what he worked for, day in, and day out.
Even as exhaustion made him aware of his ears on his head, as his sword oozed viscous drops onto the grass and Shuumatsuban members apologized for their shortcomings, it was what he willed, what he wanted, and what he accepted.
Though- it wasn’t always as he had planned. Despite his nonstop efforts, his weeks of sleep deprivation and monotonous meetings and paperwork, there were (and would always be) cracks in the stone.
Such cracks emerged as he offhandedly realized that Thoma had yet to return from his meeting with the Tenryou Commission, and that he had to leave in ten minutes to attend the Shogun’s ceremony.
No matter how animalistic it seemed to him, she was his Archon, his God, and he lived to serve. He had no interest in watching the 100th Vision get confiscated, no desire to watch whoever the victim was deflate as their aspirations slipped away, as their person dissolved into a statue.
Yet, he must-
and, such cracks only grew as a breathy servant barged into his office and informed him of who would fall into the Shogun’s hands, of the person who would watch their life be embedded into a statue.
For all that he did, Ayato couldn’t do enough, and his conversation with Thoma settled in his stomach like sour bile. It tasted vile on his tongue, to know that his retainer trusted him so much, pledged his loyalty and love, only to be put on display as his life was ripped away. To know that as he was forced to watch this act, that Ayato wouldn’t be able to show his anguish, show his dread, show his fear- for to show, would be to expose his involvement with the Resistance, his dislike for the Shogun’s actions. For to do so, would be to destroy everything that he had bled for, everything Thoma had bled for.
Kamisato Ayato was not a man of very many words, but his silence as he stood in his office with trembling hands spoke for more.