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One last time, let you back into my head
“Good evening, Commissioner. The usual?” The teahouse was Yashiro’s Commissioner’s new favourite spot. It was one of the oldest ones, known for hosting only the highest-ranking clients, both from Inazuma and the mainland before and after the times of closed borders. Commissioner's taste changed suddenly; for the owners it was a blessing, for sellers of Milk Tea Medley it was a curse, for you… you weren’t sure, something in the middle. You liked him as a client. He wasn’t hard to deal with and didn’t require a lot of going back and forth with constantly ordering more snacks and teas, but on the other hand…
“Yes, I hope you’ll keep me company once more?” Usually, the company of teahouse workers was limited to standing by the door, on the corridor, waiting for an order from the clients. The Commissioner had… different ideas on what ‘company’ meant.
“Ah, poor little… Sucrose, was it?” He turns your card face to the table, hiding the adorable green-haired girl whose HP fell to zero. In Kamisato’s mind, keeping company meant playing card games with him over tea and snacks. It shouldn’t be a thing worth raising eyebrows for - it would be hard for a man of his status to make a friend, let alone one with similar interests. Seeking out company from a waitress was the safest option for him, and you didn’t mind, as the hours went by quicker that way, and your employers were happy to pay you more. They would do anything to keep the Commissioner coming back with his money and bringing renown to the establishment. The thing was… “Well then, which snacks do you want to try first?”
By Commissioner’s rule, the loser had to be fed with a random snack of the winner's choosing, to his great amusement, despite how many times you did that, your roles of loser and winner never changed. He also wanted only you as his waitress, to the point the room assigned to you was always vacant on Fridays and Sundays, in a chance Commissioner would come - if you weren’t available, he would go somewhere else.
He could go anywhere he wanted, and yet, somehow, he always ended up in your mind.
His chopsticks right by your mouth, yokan leaving a sweet taste on your lips. “If you guess if it’s Neri or Mizu, I might consider another game of cards.” No matter how many times he did this trick, it always made warmth spread onto your face. There were many things you couldn’t talk about outside your job - the topics your clients spoke about, who and when made a reservation and that the Lord Kamisato found a new hobby of feeding you sweets with your eyes closed and seeing your reactions.
You knew that the easiest way out of the Commissioner's grasp was to not play his games at all. To press your lips in a thin line and suggest, once again like during the first times he came to the teahouse, that you were a mere waitress.
The sweet taste of red bean melts on your tongue way slower than you expected, and the texture was rather firm - Neri… - something crunches in your mouth. “Kuri yokan, isn’t it?”
But you could never get the Commissioner's sly smile out of your head.
High off everything you said
At some point, you started to suspect yourself of being part yokai. Maybe not an oni, but for sure something supernatural - what else could explain the way Lord Kamisato acted around you?
“The new hairstyle… your hairdresser certainly knows how to bring out the best.”
“You have a good eye for kimonos, maybe you would like to accompany my sister on shopping someday?”
“Are you ready to go?”
You glance at the Commissioner as you put on your hanten; the evenings got way colder recently. That day, he came later than usual, and despite his stay not being long, he left with the closing of the teahouse. His attire was elegant, the refined white not matching the browns of your clothes, even his umbrella was holding more elegance than you. Despite that, he was eager to walk with you.
“Sir Commissioner…” You mumbled, not even being able to look anywhere else; Ayato’s bright colours attracted your gaze from the darkness of the late evening. “I’m honoured but… there is no need.” Not even one droplet of rain managed to stain your clothes before the umbrella of the Commissioner became yours as well.
“And I’m not going out of my way.” He assured you with a smile. The tiniest shake of its corner suggested that he was excited; the umbrella forced you to stand so close. “I’ll go through Hanamizaka anyway, walking you back home is just a pleasant addition.”
You wanted to protest, your lips already open, but you catch yourself wordless… The evening was dark, and the Commissioner could protect you both from the possible danger of the city and the rain. As you close your lips in silent defeat, Lord Kamisato simply smiles. Your walk was rather slow. First time in forever, you were able to take your time and awe at the dark Inazuma City; the lanterns giving such a warm ambient, at the electro petals sparkling in the distance. While you wondered how such petals would feel against your skin, the Commissioner wondered how soft it would be against his touch.
“Your hanten is rather pretty.” You raise your eyebrows, not expecting a Lord to admire such a simple jacket. You weren’t surprised at his sudden comment though, you knew that the Commissioner disliked silence between you two. “Although it does lack a mon,” But why would your hanten have a family crest…? “How do you fancy camellia flowers?”
That man will be the death of you and your feeble heart.
Well, it's not so bad, I can't be mad at white, white lies
“I wanted to ask you for a long time, Commissioner.” You asked one day as you poured green tea into his cup. The cards were put onto the floor right next to the table; the freeze team containing cards of Commissioner himself and Lady Kamisato was proudly waiting for today’s battle. Your deck of adorable girls and their deadly summons was waiting right next to it, awaiting the chance to question Kamisato’s authority. “Why do you only want me as your waitress?”
Ayato looks up from the novel you brought him: After I got killed by a hydro slime, I was reincarnated into the Yashiro Commissioner - what do you mean I lost my hydro vision?! was truly an… fascinating read. Although he couldn’t understand where the idea of him and Lady Yae came from. He also couldn’t understand why you would ask such a thing. In his mind, the answer was so obvious he didn’t expect you to ask.
“Thoma recommended you.”
“I would prefer a more honest answer.” You say bluntly, knowing that his housekeeper only met you on a few occasions, you doubted that Thoma knew a thing about you. For sure he never visited the teahouse, at least not for himself - Thoma’s only visits were hours before the Commissioners’ to make sure you were available. Ayato chuckles as his fingers skip through the pages.
“Gaining intelligence was way harder than I expected,” His voice, one that you loved so much to listen to, perfectly added all the emotions to the text, yet you found it very annoying this time. “Standing right in front of Liyue’s secret intelligence agent, her fingers mere millimetres away from her bow, I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to make even one mistake. Her golden eyes were beautiful, like a sun that could burn me into nothingness. How could I predict if she lied? Lies, truth, half-truths, it all seemed so easily identifiable as a normal man, but the deeper I fell into the spider web of politics, the more I realised I couldn’t even trust what was right or left. Right then and there, I realised that if I wanted to survive as the Commissioner, I had to make her want to tell me the truth; to bargain - not only for information but also my life.” He ends the reading by bookmarking the page and closing the book. To his surprise, you had a scowl on your face, and Ayato couldn’t help but comment with airy laughter:
“What’s wrong? Wasn’t reading today your idea?” Ayato was giddy, you got used to noticing the smallest changes in him - the way his eyes got more focused on your face when he expected a reaction, not only on eyes or mouth but jumping from one part to another, wanting to catch the second you process his banter. The best way to win the Commissioner’s games was to not play at all or change the rules.
“Oh, it was.” You say as you sit down on the opposite side of the table, your hand taking the book; he doesn’t protest. “But I hoped you would read a more interesting fragment. I heard that a lot of girls were swooning over this part.” You take a sip of the tea, in your emotions; the adrenaline from challenging Ayato’s game, you don’t notice you took his cup. He smiles and proceeds to take a sip just after you. “He was an adorable little man, so full of himself, but his schemes were always predictable. When he took a step, I already took four and had time to make one back, just to see how he was doing. He was cute with his sly smiles and smooth words, but I liked him the most when he was panting like dogs he adored so much. When the muscles of his toned stomach were bending, going tense and loosening under my fingertips as he pleaded so sweetly for… for release. When… um… well… Anyway, uh… people liked Lady “Yae’s” point of view… ” Your voice dies slowly and pathetically as you look at the table, too ashamed to look at Ayato after what you just read. Instead of embarrassing him, you embarrassed yourself.
“...Did you like that part as well?” You lost the game, the fight and even the whole war when you couldn’t hide your blush. You had no bravery to look up and claim your victory; Ayato for that quick moment was also red in the face, maybe even more flustered than you. The book and its content weren’t a problem - you were. Hearing such words and opinions about, well, technically himself, falling so bravely from your lips, only to get meek and shy the dirtier it got… Thanks Archon, he had more self-control than foolish desire.
You mumble something about bringing the wagashi he ordered, and before you could slide the door behind you, Ayato catches your attention:
“Since you… amused me so greatly, it made me want to tell you a bit of the truth.” You turn around to see an already composed Commissioner, not a thing that could give out what your eyes missed.
“But isn’t that obvious?” He tilts his head so adorably that it makes your heart skip a beat. “Only tea served by your hands tastes so good.” Ayato truly loved half-truths.
Got your hands all over my body, but you're actin' like you don't want me
You didn’t know how you two ended up like this, tangled in each other's limbs, sharing the flavours of different sake between your mouths. Hands grabbing and groping every surface of each other's bodies, pulling and tugging till Ayato was without at least a few layers of his outfit, while your kimono was slightly undone.
“You’re… unbearable…” You mumble as quietly as possible, not wanting even a mouse outside of Komore Teahouse to hear you. Worry and guilt get lost in lust, as Ayato works on your kimono, pulling lower and lower till he has more canvas to work on with his mouth. Poor, starved man waited for so many dates, so many outings to make a mess of your skin, to finally feel its softness; explore deeper than a peck on the lips or warmth of your cheek.
“I really… shouldn’t… fall for your pleas…” Ayato’s words were cut every time he couldn’t stop himself and laid another kiss on your heated skin. So confident and words so sharp, yet not as sharp as his teeth that littered your skin with the timidest bitemarks. The kind that would fade away after a few minutes, as he didn’t dare to mark your skin, let alone break it.
“But since you asked so nicely~” Liar. Awful, silver-tongued liar. He was the one that lost composure first, who just couldn’t stop his hands from wandering to your knee, then your thigh; shyly, like a boy’s first experience, but his eyes told a different story. Those beautiful violet eyes, now as dark as far far away Seirai Island’s storm. And just like a storm with its raging lightning and roaring thunder, Ayato wanted to consume you whole. To not let even an inch of you dry, to make you feel like a thunderbolt was going through your body.
His dignity was only in his words, as his actions spoke of a desperate man.
“Ayato…” He never expected that his own name could hold such power over him as long as it was falling from your lips. The Commissioner, Lord Kamisato, none sounded as beautiful as simple, breathless Ayato. With that one word, he was under your command, to be as generous as to fulfil your desires. Even if his hands wandered first, you were already looking at him shyly. Even if he was first to lean in for a kiss, you were the one pressing your thighs together. Those arguments were thrown between his giggles and your huffs, till you shut him up with a kiss so full of teeth and anger it left him panting.
“I’ll be so kind as to indulge you.”
Oh, what a shame, your spirit never left.
You couldn’t get Ayato out of your mind. He made it his home, coloured every thought with his purples and whites, and changed every opinion and desire - when you looked at cherry blossoms, you thought they weren’t as pretty as camellias, fruit tea left you longing for the kind bitterness of green tea.
You were in control and yet you felt like something else was guiding your feet. A stroll to gather herbs, yet you end up in your and Ayato’s secret spot. A quick walk in Tenryou ends by the shops Ayato mentioned to like or those from where your presents came from. Kimonos, hair decorations, even sweets… Not once or twice did the shopkeepers give you a confused look as you stood by the displays, staring at things you obviously couldn’t afford. During some nights you couldn’t help but wonder, as you lay in your bed, how would it feel to have Ayato by your side. To have his hand wrapped around your stomach, his chest pressing into your back. Even after sunset, he refused to leave you alone, to let you fall asleep instead of feeling his fingers on your arms, his lips on your neck - memories and desires creating a ghost. Teasing and giggling, till you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Where are you going?” Your mother asked as you packed a few clothes in the morning.
“...Lady Kamisato wanted me to stay a few days at their estate, we got closer recently.” A ghost that imitated his touch and edged you to lie just like him.
Possessed me like a demon made to worship at your bed.
All the decorations, all the elegant ornaments all over the room merge into splashes of colours and shapes. All in dark purples and shy blues, golden lines disappearing in the shaded corners of the room. They were nothing more than an unwanted distraction, although a beautiful one, from the thing you came for.
Ayato's bluish hair was standing out, like a candle that despite being scorching hot, you keep reaching out, wanting to get burnt if it meant being by him.
You get blind on anything else, anything that wasn't Ayato being only black dots in your vision. Beautiful man, but so cruel to blind you on anything else in your life. Unable to focus on anything but how his chest raised with his every uneven breath; excited, lips twitching, trying to keep only the tiniest smile. It was so hard to keep composure when he loved the view you have been giving him. Kneeling at the edge of his bed, not daring to even touch the soft sheets, instead resting your cheek on his bare thigh.
"Don't be shy, go on."
I must be out my mind.
You thought as you walked through the festival, the sweetness of the mochi unable to calm your nerves. What were you thinking? Ayato… The Commissioner was not a man in your reach. The only person standing higher than him was Raiden Shogun and maybe Guuji Yae, it was laughable to imagine that such a man had greater plans for a teahouse worker than a fleeting adventure. Despite that, you couldn’t stop yourself, like a butterfly being led into a flytrap. No, something even less, like an already picked flower thrown on the stove, to be burned in flames of Ayato’s desire - you don't feel in control, being led by a hand that also guides you to your doom in flames.
Your eyes cross with the violets of his, the murmur of the crowd slowing in favour of your accelerating heartbeats. In Ayato’s eyes, you radiated the most when in the blaze.
Any cost to watch you cross just one last line
"Ah— Ayato!" Your nails dug into his kimono, one seemingly so thin and light, but protecting him from your attacks as strong as a kitten's claws. The man only hums, not wanting to part from your neck that was already blooming in an array of red and purples; the lower, the more. His whole body itching to claim more, to bite just a bit higher, suck just a tad harder.
"We—" Muffled words between lips, the sweetness of mochi mixing with the bitterness of whatever Ayato was eating before finding you. Bittersweet, nothing could explain your relationship better, although, for Ayato, you were the bitterness - messing with his mind, making him act like a boy who tasted alcohol for the first time. Addicted, craving, knowing that he shouldn't, but after the taste fades, longing for the bitterness to once again hurt in the sweetest way. To wake up again and again with his head pounding and cursing his bad decisions.
His gloved hands were crumpling up the material of your clothes; the blue flowers being distorted by the wrinkles. How Ayato craved to get rid of that annoying kimono, despite being beautiful, exactly what he ordered, now he couldn't stand it. The beauty of it was hiding the true gem underneath. Not allowing him to feel the warm skin of your waist, leave prints on your hips or, if you asked kindly enough, skim his fingertips across your beasts.
"We… Really shouldn't, if someone sees you…"
Despite saying it, your hands are like chains around his neck. Nails now scraping his neck, biting into the delicate skin of his head; his deep moan resonates with your trembling heart. Fireworks take away the attention from an innocent alleyway and hide the gasps of lovers.
“Making me act like a fool…” Ayato finally mumbles, his lips clumsily trying to catch yours, and you almost didn’t hear him with the loudness of the festival. Oh, how he adored and hated that about you, your innocent charm, you pulling him in like some supernatural being.
Yeah, if you want me let me know. You're terrifyin' beautiful.
Recently, your relationship with Ayato went stale, in his opinion, both of you were to blame, for you; only him. All his sweet words and soft touches couldn’t stop your doubt - you can ignore a wound so long as it doesn't make you bleed out dry. You wanted to think that your love for one another made you unstoppable, but with Ayato’s secretary of your late meetings and sweet kisses becoming stronger than weaker, you started to doubt it.
Maybe it was time to move on.
“I’m so glad you came with me!” Hizashi smiles by your side. A cute man, his personality more of an energetic dog than a sly cat, from a well-known martial art clan - no wonder such a man wanted to take part in Warrior's Spirit. How could you say no to that smile when he offered you a ticket to visit the spectacle and, possibly, his victory. “I heard that Lady Kamisato will take part in this year’s competition! It would be an honour to fight beside her.”
“Ah, I certainly have heard that Kamisato’s clan blade technique is amazing.” Ayato was more than happy to show you some of the sequences; you still remembered how his gloved hands felt against yours as he helped you handle a sword. “I can’t imagine myself getting into that, though.”
“That’s understandable! Martial art is not for everyone, but I’ll gladly do that hard work if it means… well… you’ll see my matches today.” His smile was childish and wide, even a bit of blush decorating his cheeks, you smile back; it doesn’t reach your eyes.
“Oh?” A regular rhythm of elegant shoes hitting the pavement; the air gets more dry. “I see I found one of the competitors.” Ayato slides into the conversation elegant as ever, composed and calm but his vision was blinking angrily. As his gaze moves from the man's sword to the hand on your shoulder, he wondered what exact competition Hizashi was taking part in.
Both of you bow to him.
“Good evening, Commissioner.” Ayato wanted to scoff and shut your mouth for daring to call him like that after everything you two went through. After all, you put him through - taking days off only on days he had time to visit the teahouse, not answering letters, sending Thoma away. Your only saving grace was not daring to turn down Ayaka on your regular outings, though even she didn’t bring him back any useful information.
Ayato answers with a nod before turning his attention to you.
“I would like to talk to you, in private.”
“What would the Commissioner need from me?” You say innocently, and Ayato curses himself on how his character rubbed off on you. How you knowingly try to put him in a situation where he had to bend to your demands, voice his more honest thoughts in front of others or lose. Or so you thought.
“I would like to discuss something regarding Ayaka,” you were sly, but nothing more than a kitten trying out its claws, “since you’re her dear friend, I’m sure you would be able to help me with—”
“I’m sure it can wait after the competition.” You had more pettiness than judgement, for once straightly refusing to play Commissioner’s games. “As you can see, I’m rather busy at the moment.” The tiniest raise of your head, a challenge.
“If it’s not a problem, my Lord,” Hizashi chimes in with enough respect to not break social standards but not bowing his head nor appearing meek, “I wanted to show her a bit of my swordsmanship before the competition starts. If your request could be—”
“I’ll gladly help,” Ayato says so suddenly it shocked all three of you. He wants to take those words back. A hundred excuses were already swarming in his head as to what he meant; he could back off any second. But his hand already rests on the hilt of his sword, as he had to muster all his composure to not drill holes with his stare into the defiling hand resting on your lower back. For a moment, Ayato forgets about appearance and what he ‘supposed’ and ‘not supposed’ to do, all he cared about was what he ‘wanted’ to do. “You also wish to gain the reward of fighting alongside my sister, no? An opportunity to test your skills against me and to show your swordsmanship, isn’t that killing two birds with one stone?”
And as metal clashes against metal, Hizashi’s concentrated face breaks and shatters revealing consternation or even fear - Ayato’s attacks don't stop. After countering one, there were another three incoming, and not even one of his strikes could even reach a hair on Ayato’s head. Ruthless, although elegant in his movements, his slashes were brutal, driven by something more primal rather than the need for respectful sparring.
The young man was laying on the ground, not even a droplet of sweat was able to sneak between his neck and the tip of Ayato’s sword. Irrational fear blooms in his mind as he can’t see any sympathy in Commissioner’s eyes, something more akin to disgust swirling in the violet - was he going to die here? A deep breath in. An even deeper exhale. Ayato’s sword disappears in golden dust and specks of light.
“I wish you the best of luck.” A kind comment said in a neutral manner, but it was better than the animosity that was brooding within him. Ayato walks back to you and his hand lingers way longer on yours as you give him back the hydro vision you guarded for the sake of a fair fight. Seeing the satisfaction twinkling in his eyes as he glances back on shocked Hizashi, you doubted it was a fair fight with or without gods’ blessing. Somehow, you never noticed that under all the plotting and scheming was a man of truly terrifying strength. One that instead of pulling away, twists his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours; the vision, the core of his being and ambitions, and desires stuck between.
“I need to talk to you.”
One with a shaky voice, almost crossing on begging, and those beautiful violet eyes pleading for mercy; to either stop your charm or let him fix whatever was broken. All those unsaid words hidden in gestures that pull you right back in.
I do believe (I do believe)
“Dear-!” Your mother scolds her husband, only one word holding a hundred sentences you were yet to decrypt. Your father, red in the face from irritation, scoffs but listens; his anger mixing with the worry of your mother.
“Oh my, what a bold accusation.” Ayato was none; not worried about their opinions nor angry at their accusation. To say that the Yashiro Commissioner was fooling around with their precious daughter… Truly, your father was an amusing man - so creative with his choice of words! - and you could see how entertained Ayato was from how his lips bent - the one specific way, seemingly polite, but not reaching his eyes which held a childish shine.
“I… apologise, my Lord.” Your father admits. “But this is no official visit, like many others, so I want to ask you as a young man visiting my daughter, not as Lord Kamisato.” His forehead was covered with sweat, knowing that he was on thin ice; it was too late to return, the ice behind him already melting. “What are your plans for my daughter?”
You twitch when you feel his hand sneaking to yours, his fingers coiling against your hand like a snake. So shamelessly, so boldly, in full view of your parents; Ayato’s favourite game of seeing how far he could go. One squeeze, two; do you trust me?
Mercy on me (Mercy on me)
“I wouldn’t call it fooling around,” Ayato loves the way the two squirms, looking uncomfortably at each other as he repeats the unfortunate words, “although she did make me act like a fool on several occasions.” Your mother chuckles awkwardly, as you can only plead Ayato with your eyes to end his games. To show some mercy, if not to you then towards your parents.
“I actually came here today to ask you for your blessing for our marriage. Isn’t that right, my dear?” Ayato looks at you, living for the shock in your eyes and your mouth just slightly open; enough to amuse him, but not enough to show your parents you were completely blindsided. The topic of marriage never appeared between you, even his mentions of the proposal ended in nothing more than your flustered self as him kissing your ring finger.
Now, he waited for your answer with the angelic smile of a lovesick man, his excitement barely able to be contained; eyes zooming from your eyes to your lips to any other part of your beautiful face, fingers impatiently tapping on his thigh. You could swear, Ayato never got as much adrenaline, not even on the rare occasions you saw him handling a blade, as when he had a chance to push you against the wall - literally or metaphorically.
Did you really want to give your future to such a man?
I'll never leave (I'm going deep)
“Yes.”