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The woods, when Ayaka takes notice of them, are gratifyingly quiet, although a fleeting chirp from lost birds resounds every once in a while, to gentle the silence around them. Neither of them is silent. Her and Yoimiya have been walking aimlessly, the latter carrying the conversation by herself while Ayaka listens, nods along, following the path Yoimiya’s sandals make in the coarse dirt, her footprints a trail of stardust in the night sky. Sometimes she interrupts Yoimiya to ask about a detail in the story she’s crafting, sometimes she interrupts just to hear Yoimiya smile while she speaks. It’s silly, is what it is, Ayaka is worrying for nothing, she knows this. Still, the doubt that has wormed itself in her gut doesn’t wane away.
It’s been a few months since the abolition of the Sakoku Decree, and everyone in the city and the nation has more or less settled in. Ayaka knows what this means for her clan, for her. Her brother can only do so much to delay the inevitable, between taking care of the clan whilst claiming all the while that Ayaka was either too young, or too busy, to find a suitable match. There is still time, she remembers him saying to one of the clan heads while discussing her marriage, let her enjoy herself longer.
The time for enjoying herself has long passed, she has been of age for some time, and soon she will be somebody’s bride, a sidepiece clutching an arm, expected to smile, mouth painted red and bloody. There will be no more sword practices, no more secret jokes shared between her and Thoma, no more walks in the woods, no Yoimiya — just her and her husband. The thought of a life like that terrified her ever since she was young, looking into the shifting gold of Yoimiya’s eyes and knowing she would not get to keep the radiance, only the shadow.
She does not voice these thoughts, because they are useless, and unnecessary, and don’t need to be said out loud. She has already rejected the hand of half a dozen equally capable and if pushed to admit, perfectly ordinary men, just to enjoy the warmth of Yoimiya’s shared presence for a breath longer. She knows it can’t go on forever, even in the Land of Eternity, timelessness is a mirage. Her brother and Thoma have started to look at each other in worry where they think she can’t see, and she knows she is using both of their kindness for reasons so selfish she would be ashamed if it were for anyone else, but for Yoimiya—
When they were girls running through streets while smiling, Yoimiya’s laugh quick and high before she reached puberty, Ayaka’s shy and startled; it felt as if the whole world was at their fingertips. The sea, when Yoimiya managed to convince her to go for a swim amidst autumn, stretched endlessly. That moment, perfectly preserved in memory, sits in Ayaka’s mind, inside a shelf labeled Eternity. It was the only time that Ayaka thought of something never-ending as beautiful. No wonder the Shogun wants to preserve the land in time, she thought, screaming in joy as Yoimiya dunked both of them under saltwater, I would give anything to stay with you here.
How cruel time is, how unforgiving, how utterly necessary. Those wishes are just that, wishes of a young girl in love. Ayaka understands duty, has it carved into her bones the same way Ayato has. For her clan, she has given up so much, and will only give up more, but at times the anger she has kept carefully hidden away in her heart threatens devastation. She knows she is being unfair when she compares her brother to herself, knows that Ayato is by no means any luckier or fortunate than her, and still…
Her brother will have Thoma by his side. Ayaka will have no one. Ayato will bring back home a woman he will not love, one he will lie with only for the purpose of a heir. He will treat her well as he can, but wandering hands and gazes between him and Thoma will not end, their secret kisses and passion will continue to burn, not an inferno, but a steady, comforting ember. They’ll have each other.
Ayaka will have to go to festivals and theater performances, see fireworks in the night sky flash like the first wisps of tender-hearted devotion, eye forever searching for a flash of golden eyes and blond hair, a whisper of smoke amidst crowds, and she will have to go back to a house that holds none of the love she wishes she could harbor. Her and Yoimiya will part ways, not due to lack of affection, but out of obligation. Yoimiya could never marry into the Kamisato clan, even if it was permitted, she has her father to take care of, the Naganohara Fireworks to run, and a life to live. Ayaka has no right to take that away from her, and so she will not.
When Yoimiya stops to point out a small, clear pond amidst the forest, Ayaka allows her to eagerly grab a pale hand and to pull her into the shallow water, socks and sandals left behind on the grass. They smile at each other, and twirl together, like fishes in a pool, orbiting around one another in synch. Ayaka’s hair whips around unrestrainedly in her ponytail while Yoimiya’s wild laughter scatters birds from their perches. Too much, some might say about her, but for Ayaka it is never enough. I want more of you. I want everything you are, I want to give all I’ve got, I want, Yoimiya, I always will.
The words never leave past her throat, and Ayaka will not allow them to. They spin, and spin, until the world blurs its sharp edges into something kinder, sweeter; a space for two girls to love. Everything fades away fervently— as fireworks in the sky.