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Ayaka was in a meeting, addressing the Special Committee for Revitalising the Nation, when a Shuumatsuban agent slipped her a note.
(Yae Miko had set this endeavour up so that the Tri-Commission heads were formal advisors to the Committee, but not of the Committee. Ayaka, Kujou Kamaji, and Hiiragi Chisato had next to no veto power short of an armed coup, which in their collective opinion made it all the more important that they keep as close an eye on the foreign interlopers as possible. So while the meetings weren’t mandatory, they might as well have been.)
Ayaka continued her report: “Finally, with regards to the tools themselves, there are three toolmaking businesses in Narukami...”
She spared the note a glance as she spoke. The paper had been folded in quarters—no subtle change in the angle, and therefore not immediately urgent.
She reached out her index finger and slid the note to join the rest of her papers, and continued: “...one east of Ritou and two in the city, both able to operate at their original throughput. There were another three in the Kannazuka region, which collectively lost most of their apprentices and one master craftsman over the past few years. They estimate it will take at least half a decade before enough replacements are trained to reach pre-Decree levels.”
Across the table, the Tianshu spoke. “Acting Commissioner Kamisato, if you’ll forgive me my ignorance: why not import to make up the shortfall? I understand that Inazuman nokogiri are very different to the saws used on the mainland, but surely a chisel is a chisel?”
“To a... certain extent. It is my understanding that variations in form and weight distribution have an impact on the efficiency of use...” Ayaka sighed. “My apologies; I confess I haven’t been fully briefed. I wasn’t involved with prior talks with the carpentry guilds...”
“No apology is needed,” said the Tianquan. “We understand you’ve had limited time to get up to speed on the minutae of Yashiro Commission affairs.”
The Tianshu nodded. “So too do we recognise that this Special Committee is interested in many such minutae.”
“Some businesses have indeed imported tools for abroad,” said Chisato. “There are some concerns; may I speak to those?”
Ayaka dipped her head. “Please, Lady Hiiragi.”
“Thank you, Lady Kamisato. The Kanjou Commission isn’t usually concerned with workplace injuries. However, in the course of maintaining regulations for the import of industrial equipment, we...”
Ayaka took a sip of water. Then she discreetly lifted her hand to read the note she’d received.
Then she stared blankly at it for half a minute. Then she read the note again. Then she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, which did nothing to help her relax. Then she opened her eyes and reread the note.
Of course. Of course Ayato would. At this point, she ought not be surprised.
By the Narukami Ogosho, forcing her brother to take time off had already been ordeal enough. If more drastic measures were required, well... gods damn it.
“Lady Kamisato, is something wrong?”
Ayaka blinked. The Yuheng—one of the Qixing officials leading the Committee, a small woman around her own age—was looking at her intently.
“Not at all, Lady Yuheng,” Ayaka said.
“Really?” The woman pursed her lips. “Because you’ve been staring into space for the past two minutes. Were Lady Chisato and the Tianshu boring you?”
“Keqing, diplomacy,” the kirin lady beside her muttered, quietly enough she probably thought Ayaka wouldn’t hear.
Next to her, Kujou Kamaji’s brow furrowed. Ayato?, he mouthed.
Ayaka elected not to respond. Rather, she rose, bowing deeply.
“My deepest apologies, esteemed Qixing. Lord Kamaji, Lady Chisato. I must take my leave. A situation has arisen which requires my immediate attention.”
“Is it anything we can help with?” asked the Yuheng.
“Many thanks, but this is a small internal affair. Trifling, but time-sensitive.”
“If it’s interrupting our work, I wouldn’t call it small...”
(“Keqing,” the kirin hissed.)
“Go ahead,” said the Tianshu. “I trust your colleagues can fill you in later.”
Ayaka stood, bowed, then took her leave. She walked out of the meeting room, walked down the hallway, down a flight of stairs, and into a disused storage room. She wrapped her sleeve around her fist several times.
Then, faster than the eye could see, she punched a hole in the wall.
“You,” she said, to the Shuumatsuban ninja leading her security detail. “You did that. The Kamisato Clan will reimburse the Kanjou Commission for the damages.”
“Ayato again?” Thoma guessed, and when Ayaka nodded, neither he nor her security detail bothered to suppress their groans.
“He’s ‘shopping’,” said Ayaka. “In the Commercial District.”
Thoma skimmed over the message. “A doushin turned himself in for tax fraud... aha, I think I know the one. Oh, oh dear... The Lady of the Koriki Clan had a fight with the Lady-Consort, accusing her of an affair... and Ayato was across the street buying a netsuke.” (The Shuumatsuban tailing Ayato swore they didn’t see him do anything to provoke the lovers’ spat, but the proximity was damning enough.) “Damn, I thought they were a lovely match...”
“This has to stop,” said Ayaka.
The less said about Ayato’s recent misadventures, the better—but these were misadventures that demanded saying.
Ayato had returned from his first day of stress leave with a beaming smile, brightly informing Ayaka and Thoma that he’d spent the day at the Royal Onsen and “had a marvellous time”. The smile was genuine, and the set of his shoulders seemed a smidge more relaxed than the previous day, and so Ayaka, fool that she was, had not thought to wonder what details her dear brother was omitting mention of.
The details were this: Ayato was a clever man with a clever mind; Ayato was trying his best not to think about work; Ayato’s clever mind had gotten bored—oh, and Ayato was very good at scheming. By the time Ayaka and Thoma had begun to piece together the engagements and break-ups and blood paths and social scandals Ayato had engineered while sitting in the onsen, talking, he’d already begun working his magic at the Tea Salon—the good one, in the textiles alley, with actual bergamot peel: the one the noblewomen with taste frequented.
And again the next day. And the next. And now today.
“I have work to do,” Ayaka lamented. “We all have work to do.”
“Except him.”
“Yes, yes. The Yashiro Commission doesn’t have time to manage the fallout of his... deeds. Were it anyone else, I’d say he was trying to get our attention...”
“But he’s Ayato,” Thoma concurred. “He would never make your job harder on purpose.”
The Shuumatsuban murmured in agreement.
“I assume,” said Thoma cautiously, “that you don’t plan on cutting short his time off.”
“I am not losing Ayato to anything except old age,” said Ayaka firmly. “He is taking extended leave until he has properly recovered, and that is that.”
“As you say, milady. But the problem remains: we’ve created a monster. With nothing else to do, he’s turning into Yae Miko.”
“Don’t say that,” said Ayaka, aghast. “Don’t... no, Thoma. He’s just...”
“Craving entertainment? Amusement, even?”
“...bad at unwinding. He’ll get there, I’m sure.”
“You’re right, milady. I’m sure if we give him time...”
“Only we can’t give him time. Miko handed the keys to the empire over to Liyue, the people are scared and confused, and now when the nobility needs to be the face of stability more than ever, Ayato is... he’s...” Ayaka motioned at the message again.
“Inventing new ways to have the nobility tear itself apart?”
“Yes, thank you, Thoma.”
“We could ask him to stop.”
“I tried that! Twice! And now he’s carrying on but giving himself more plausible deniability. What am I supposed to do; ground my elder brother? He’d only find ways to make trouble by carrier pigeon.”
“I’m afraid this is quite beyond me, Milady. Although... Taroumaru suggested a cone of shame might get the Lord to properly rest.”
“A cone of...” Hmm. Would that work? “Do those come in human sizes...?” (“We’ll look into it,” said one ninja.) “Oh, but it wouldn’t stop him from talking.”
“Unfortunately not,” said Thoma gravely. “But what else can we do, gag him? It’d never work.”
“...you mean you’d take it off, don’t you.”
“I can’t help it! He looks so hurt!”
“Regardless.” Ayaka sighed. “You know Ayato. What doesn’t make him bleed makes him stronger. The cone would somehow make him even more of a menace.”
“I can hardly imagine.”
“Exactly, Thoma. He does what his opponents can hardly imagine. Thank the Narukami Ogosho he isn’t trying to antagonise us.”
“Milady, if I may, you do seem antagonised...”
“Yes,” said Ayaka, rubbing her temples, “I cannot deny that... No, I cannot. Drastic action is required. Thoma, we need to get rid of Ayato.” At the stiffening of her security detail, she clarified, “Out of Inazuma. If he can’t have a few weeks off without being a public nuisance, let’s spare our public, at least.”
Thoma hummed. “It is probably the best option...”
“I see no alternative. You still have your Ritou contacts, yes? Can we get him on a boat by morning?”
In the long term, the Special Committee for Revitalising the Nation were to be housed and headquartered in Tenshukaku, which had gone quiet with the Shogun’s absence. However, that would have to wait; there were entire wings of the building to be cleared and refurnished. In the meantime, the Kanjou Commission headquarters in Ritou would suffice. As for living quarters, Hiiragi Chisato had offered up her estate’s guest apartments.
Fine accommodation indeed. All but one of the arriving Qixing had gratefully accepted the offer. The remaining delegate had instead bowed deep, profusely thanked Chisato, and then walked down the street and rented out the entire Ritou Imperial Ryokan for herself and three of her personal staff.
One of said secretaries walked Ayaka to a room on the third floor.
“The Shirasagi Himegimi and her personal retainer, Thoma,” she announced.
“Thank you, Baixiao.”
The room’s occupant wore a plain linen robe with a maple-red sash. She was sitting at the window, gazing out past the ryokan’s bamboo fencing towards the port below. Now she turned to face them.
“Lady Tianquan,” Ayaka said, dipping her head.
“Lady Kamisato.” The Tianquan returned the gesture. “Please, come in.”
Ayaka traded her geta for slippers at the genkan and approached, Thoma by her side.
When the Special Committee for Revitalising the Nation had first been announced—that is, Yae Miko’s spur of the moment decision to have Liyue’s Qixing administer Inazuma, while she and the Narukami Ogosho went on vacation Abyss knows where—the Shuumatsuban had set to work compiling intelligence on the Liyuean delegates. The Kanjou Commission had had a long-standing dossier on Tianquan Ningguang, which Ayaka had perused with interest once a copy fortuitously fell into her hands.
The dossier described the Tianquan as a successful businesswoman in her private life, whose business interests in Inazuma had achieved outstanding returns over the years. Since her appointment to the Qixing, she’d proven a cunningly effective legislator. A sound economic manager, too: that part of Liyue’s economic fortunes not attributed to the late Rex Lapis was invariably attributed to her.
Most of the woman’s history was a matter of public record, save her first two decades upon Teyvat, of which only scarce details were available, hinting at abject poverty. Her work in the Qixing lined up with this, too; she appeared to be behind much of the last decades’ push towards fully subsidised child healthcare, for instance.
What was lacking from the Kanjou dossier was any hint of her personality, her negotiating style, her likes and dislikes, her strengths and weaknesses.
Yae Miko’s dossier was fractionally more informative on that front.
The Guuji had gifted the Yashiro Commission—“not that I’m playing favourites, but of course you’re my favourite of the Tri-Commissions”—her own notes on Tianquan Ningguang. These consisted of several salacious photographs attached to a blank sheet of paper containing the words: Clever but boring.
“Boring” was not an especially high bar when Yae Miko was the one doing the judging. But “clever”, well, Ayaka could count on one hand the number of humans she’d ever seen Miko label as such. Ayato. Sangonomiya Kokomi. The adventurer who wrote the Teyvat Travel Guide. And now, apparently, Lady Ningguang.
In light of that, the “boring” comment was a relief. It suggested the Tianquan was, at least, unfrivolous, not prone to cruelty for its own sake.
(The Ningguang in the photos seemed... gentle, empathetic. Almost tender, which was striking considering the subject matter.)
Still, unfrivolous did not mean unopportunistic, nor did unopportunistic mean selfless. That was why Ayaka was here.
“Lady Tianquan, might I speak forthrightly?”
The woman seemed pleased by that. “I welcome it, especially in such an informal setting. How may I help?”
“I have business with the Alcor. Personal business. How much will your discretion cost me?”
The Tianquan arched an eyebrow. “Lady Kamisato, the Crux Fleet is a private enterprise; the Qixing cannot quote prices on their behalf.”
“Your discretion, Tianquan,” Ayaka repeated. “Please, no games. Don’t pretend Captain Beidou won’t tell you everything when you—”
Thoma interjected smoothly. “My Lady means to say she’s aware of your intelligence sharing arrangement with the Crux.”
A chuckle escaped the Tianquan’s lips. “Touche. Well, I’m not one for gossipmongering, so I won’t be so gauche as to ask you to buy my silence. But it depends whether this affects the Qixing’s business or mine.”
Ayaka held her ground as the older woman stared her down. “It’s not a concern.”
“Best to be safe. I will ask you seven yes-or-no questions, and if I’m satisfied with the answer, I can promise you my discretion. Acceptable?”
“Fine.”
“One. Does your business with the Crux involve, or have the appearance of involving, contravention of Kanjou Commission regulations, Liyue import-export regulations, or criminal laws in either of those jurisdictions?”
“No.”
“You do understand that if you’re lying, I have no reason to keep my word?”
“Yes,” said Ayaka. The question bordered on condescension, really. “That was your second question.”
Ningguang laughed delightedly. “So this is the demure Shirasagi Himegimi, then? Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Third question?”
“Three. Does your business with the Crux violate the spirit of the agreement between the Qixing and the Shogunate establishing the Special Committee for Revitalising the Nation?; and/or, would your fellow Tri-Commission heads or my colleague Keqing reasonably conclude as much?”
“No.”
“Four. If Lumine had asked to kiss you that night, would you have let her?”
Thoma’s hand pressed against the Mistsplitter’s pommel before Ayaka could draw it. Unnecessary; she’d only planned on a warning shot.
“Lady Tianquan,” said Thoma, politely as ever, “I’d ask—”
“I’ll take your silence as an ‘I don’t know’.”
“—that you treat this discussion seriously and in good faith.”
Ayaka finally managed to string words together again. “She told you?”
“She told Beidou. She had no idea what she was divulging. Miss Lumine is very, very thick in some regards.”
Ayaka’s composure had suffered far worse. Still, she was internally reeling at the temerity of the question, so when Ningguang said...
“Five. Do you need the Crux’s help to discreetly deport your brother?”
...she sighed and buried her face in Thoma’s shoulder, nodding.
Ningguang’s ensuing hum sounded more sympathetic than Ayaka had expected. “Uncle Tian is also aware of the... trouble Lord Kamisato has been stirring up; he will likely suspect Crux involvement. Regardless, you have my absolute discretion. As for the Crux’s: that, I suspect, will cost you Mora.”
Beidou’s fees were considerable, not counting the ten percent tip Ayaka had had Thoma sneak in. But it was money well spent.
(Kujou Kamaji had paid over a third of it, thinking he was bribing Ayaka to get rid of her brother. He probably even thought it was his own idea: such were the advantages of not having Ayato’s reputation for manipulation.)
“That’s him, right?” she asked Thoma, waving and waving at the departing Alcor.
Thoma squinted through the spyglass. “Definitely him. No body double could imitate that smile.”
“A good thing we didn’t go with the cone of shame, then. He might have played some trick.”
“Indeed, Milady. And as you requested, the Shuumatsuban will monitor the ports for the next few days. If he tries to sneak back in on a fishing vessel, we’ll be watching... But he won’t, Ayaka, he said he’d behave.”
“He did promise he wouldn’t make trouble for Captain Beidou.” Ayaka gnawed at her lip. “He hasn’t broken a promise to me since Mother and Father passed.”
“And he won’t start now, milady.”
“I hope not.”
The Special Committee, after all, had work to do.