Archive of Our Own

One.

“You look cold,” a familiar voice approached from behind, holding up a blanket and draping it over Ayato’s shoulders. 

Ayato didn’t need to turn his head to know who it was. Thoma’s unwavering joyous tone would always be a dead giveaway to anyone who knew him for more than a few hours. Plus, this was a nightly occurrence anyway.

The chilly fall breeze of an Inazuman night was just enough to dust the tip of anyone's nose, a stark, rosy pink that was visible even when it was the middle of the night and the only light source was the dim lanterns hanging from poles scattered around the quiet Kamisato estate. 

Ayato sipped from the nearly full teacup in his hand and kept his gaze on the sky above them. He was always found in the same spot every time the young commissioner needed the comfort of the night after a long day stuck in his office. His body leaned against the red fence that framed the porch. “Thank you,” Ayato spoke after several minutes of silence that followed when the blond housekeeper joined his nightly endeavor. He set the teacup on the fence and pushed it aside. He never actually finished a cup of tea he’d bring outside with him. Thoma noted it a while ago but never asked about it. 

“You’ve got to start bringing a blanket with you, My Lord,” Thoma teased as he filled the empty space next to Ayato. He never really cared to look at the scenery like the silver-haired man next to him did. The only sight he thought was worth taking in at this hour stood quietly next to him, whose eyes were more interested in studying the constellations he’d never remember the name of. The twinkling reflection of the wonders in the sky reflected in those purple eyes much better than looking at the stars himself anyway. Purple eyes sparkled, studying the view ahead of him as if there might be something a little different than the night before. Ayato was someone who didn’t need to speak to let someone else in on his thoughts. 

Ayato hummed an amused response, a light smile replacing the blank expression that was usually stapled on his face. “You say that every night,” he finally met Thoma’s gaze. 

Thoma snickered cheekily, “And yet, you forget it every night anyway.” Thoma always had a smile on his face. A smile that told whoever was talking to him they were safe. It never, ever, faded when he was around Ayato. He was sure it was just a tiny bit brighter when given to Ayato, though. 

“Good thing I have my trusty housekeeper who keeps track of that fact, then,” Ayato responded before his attention returned over the walls and up in the sky. The universe filled his indigo eyes once again, and a comfortable smile remained on his face, one only Thoma knew about. 

Thoma admired the galaxy too. He admired the way the universe’s chest would rise and fall with every easy breath it took. He admired the eyes he wanted to swim in and never surface for breath. He admired the universe’s outgrown, silver-blue hair that was surely due for a trim. The strands that fell on its face in perfect formation, as if that was where they belonged. For as long as he has been studying all the facts about this universe, it has always loved getting lost in the comforting hug of the dark night. No paperwork, no responsibilities, no having to appear composed and put together. 

He would find Ayato and Ayaka during the eldest hours of the night, sitting together in almost complete silence when he first began working for the Noble Kamisato Clan of the Yashiro Commission. They were barely teenagers at the time, filled with so much wonder without the weight of overbearing responsibilities and an inescapable future. Thoma never disturbed them; he would occasionally watch from afar, but he had chores to finish before the house retired for the rest of the night. Ayato loved stargazing with his sister. He loved stargazing with his late mother as well. He loved stargazing alone. And, now, Thoma was no longer watching. He was the person Ayato loved to stargaze with. Ayato simply loved to stargaze. 

After the siblings' parents had passed, he would find the new young lord all alone. Thoma let night after night pass, just observing the grief-stricken, lonely man. He was forever grateful he had found the courage to join him one night, and it has been that way ever since. 

Thoma swallowed before slicing through the silence that coaxed them, “They’re proud of you, you know.” 

A breathy chuckle released from Ayato’s mouth. “You say that every night, Thoma.” The name slipped through his lips like honey, so sweet and so luxurious. The sound Thoma replayed in his mind over and over again before he drifted off to sleep every night. He knew there was no difference when his master spoke his name compared to everyone else he communicated with in a day. Still, the way Ayato spoke his name would never fail to ignite an unfortunately familiar nervous flame inside of him as no other could. 

Thoma wrapped his fingers around the wooden fence, rocking back and forth with a stupid grin he could never wipe from his face. He looked down at his shoes when Ayato answered. “I know. A little reminder never hurt anyone.” He felt a cold hand rest on top of his, prompting him to look back up at his best friend next to him. Ayato was looking at him now, and it felt like he sucked the breath right out of him. He prayed to the seven archons that Ayato couldn’t dig behind his eyes and find the words he would never be able to say. 

It was Thoma’s turn to finally look past the railing and out into the world. Even though it was the same routine night after night, it never failed to make his stomach churn with relentlessly lovesick butterflies. 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Ayato asked the blond chief retainer, tenderly squeezing the top of his hand. 

Thoma playfully rolled his eyes at the ridiculous question. “Now you’re the one repeating yourself.” Every night was nearly the same, with short conversations being exchanged between them. Neither of them was bothered by it, nor did either of them break the routine. “You already know the answer to that.” 

Ayato could barely be heard, whispering, “Remind me.” 

Thoma flipped his hand around and laced their fingers together. They fit so perfectly together, as if their fingers were the last pieces to complete a puzzle. Nothing was wrong when their hands were locked together. If that puzzle were destroyed, their connected pieces would not come undone. They would stick together still and fit right back into the next puzzle the world would build for them. 

“It’s dangerous to be alone at night,” Thoma started, “having a friend is recommended during these hours.” Thoma glanced at their hands now. His voice was so soft, so quiet, that he didn’t even know if Ayato heard him completely. “To keep you safe in case you got lost,” he finished. The conversation was so private that not even the universe that observed them overhead could hear it. A conversation that was meant for them and only them. “The night can reel you in with its siren song and trap you if you stray too far,” he added after a few moments of silence. His emerald eyes met intense indigo ones through the blond hair that fell over his face. Ayato always looked at Thoma like he was the most interesting person he had ever met. Thoma bit down on his bottom lip, unsure of when the appropriate moment was to peel away from those hypnotizing eyes. He was always so glad they had these conversations during the night. The heat on his face would never be obvious as long as the lights stayed off and the sun remained set. 

Ayato huffed a laugh through his nose. “That’s new.” The tension of the moment was shattered, for which Thoma was eternally grateful for.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Thoma grinned back, returning back to his “normal” self. “You have to admit, My Lord, that was a great metaphor.” The intimate moment broke, and it allowed Thoma to be able to finally release the breath he didn’t know he was holding. And, their hands never parted. 

“What did I say about formalities when it is just the two of us?” Ayato’s tone was unamused, his eyebrow cocked, and a childish smile on his lips. He was a very serious man, someone who did not often wear his true feelings on his face. There was still that mischievous teenager inside of him, as there once was many moons ago. Thoma could never forget that all-knowing smirk when he poked fun at who he was talking to. That smirk only Ayaka and Thoma ever got to see. 

Thoma shrugged, pretending he had no idea what his lord was talking about. “Hm, I’m not sure,” he lied lightheartedly, “remind me.” 

“Ayato,” the man responded, “I told you to call me Ayato.” His smile eased into a more satisfied one. His fingers untangled from Thoma’s, and he rested his elbows on the fence, leaning forward. 

Thoma’s hand was left empty. He was no longer holding the world in the palm of his hand. All that remained was the heat of where it once was. His eyes lingered in that spot. He winced internally, bothered by the fact that he even had such forbidden thoughts about his best friend. His heart ached every time he had to rip his attention from his absurd fantasy thoughts he had about the two of them. Externally, he wore a mask to conceal his foolish desires. 

Thoma would never be able to recall a time when he didn’t have these idiotic feelings for his friend–– his boss. The day he locked on to those piercing purple eyes when he washed ashore on Narukami Island at 14, there was always something deeper that tugged on the strings of his heart. Day after day, he ignored it. He knew it was senseless to understand what it meant. Day after day, words that would forever remain unspoken itched in his throat. Year after year, that feeling never went away, no matter how hard Thoma attempted to bury them. Rather, it only grew stronger. It was an unforgiving crush that refused to budge. 

It did turn him into an amazing actor, though. He went about life as if everything was completely normal. He was able to clean as he always was, cook the most delicious meals with no distraction, and engage in average conversations and tasks with anyone as if the monster in his mind did not exist. He was sure no one but himself knew about this brainless crush he had been haunted by for the last twelve years.  

 Ayato was far too busy to ever reciprocate the feelings. He would be out of his mind to ever think otherwise. Plus, despite his long-time being best friends with the man, he was just their devoted housekeeper at the end of the day. When the sun eventually rises, Thoma would once again return to being the loyal servant of the Kamisato siblings. He selfishly wished that the night would last forever. Because at night, he was Thoma, Ayato’s closest friend and trusted companion. He would never say he hated the daytime where he took charge of other working people on the estate or where he was Ritou’s favorite tour guide and helping hand; because, frankly, he did truly love the life he was lucky enough to be blessed with every single day. But, the nights after a long day of work were the best part of the life he was living. He got to stand at the side of Ayato at night. Not Commissioner Ayato, just Ayato. 

Thoma mimicked the same position Ayato was standing in. “Alright, Ayato,” he snickered back, “My apologies for forgetting.”

Ayato swayed to bump Thoma’s shoulder with his body. The smile on his companion's face was a sight burned into Thoma’s eyes and became all he could see at night when he shut his eyelids. He wanted to feel that smile against his own and memorize the shape of it. Everything about Ayato was so perfect and something Thoma longed to explore. 

“Thoma,” Ayato yawned, stretching his arms above his head, “I will see you in the morning.” Thoma’s eyes followed Ayato as he walked back inside the estate before eventually following suit. He was so incredibly lovesick. 

Two.

The smell of a nearly completely burned-out sakura-scented candle swirled in the air in the office belonging to none other than Kamisato Ayato. Thoma made a mental note that he needed to replace it soon. 

He held a tray of freshly brewed tea for his master as he entered the room. Ayato sat at his desk, as he always did, with a pen in one hand and his face resting on the other. There were despairingly dark eye bags sticking out like a sore thumb; almost as if they were begging the Kamisato Commissioner to get some rest. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but it still irked Thoma’s soul to see him in that state. Ayato was known to stay awake for days on end, lost in document after document he needed to sign, not even realizing the day flying past him. When Ayato was in one of these nonsensical episodes, the plates Thoma had delivered hours before with food remained untouched. He frowned. Just because it was normal, it didn’t mean he had to accept it. 

“My lord,” Thoma’s chirpy voice broke through the sound barriers of Ayato’s previously infrangible concentration. “Evening tea,” his smile beamed so brightly that it could burn a hole straight through those silly documents that piled too high. Before setting the tray on the table in front of the sickly looking man, he moved the clutter of crumpled up papers and what was supposed to be his lunch to make room on his untidy desk. 

He wanted to scold his master, to lecture him again about how important self-care was on days like these. It always proved to be pointless, though, so Thoma kept it to himself. Instead, he put on the golden mask he always wore and moved along with his duties. 

Ayato merely glanced up at Thoma, their eyes meeting for only a second before returning to whatever “important” business sat dauntingly in front of him. Thoma poured the steaming tea into a cup and set it right next to Ayato’s occupied hand. His smile remained innocent, but expectant. He wanted Ayato to break out of the work that absorbed his attention so selfishly, and he wouldn’t leave the room until he did. 

“Thank you, Thoma,” Ayato responded after a few minutes of what felt like uneasy silence. He knew it was just him who felt the restlessness of those quiet pauses. It wasn’t anything deeper than the surface level concentration Ayato was in. Still, he couldn’t help having the expression of a loyal puppy waiting to be fed. “You can be on your way.”

Thoma simply chuckled at that. “Not until you finish your drink, Master. I must say, it might be my best brew yet!” Of course, he hadn’t actually tasted the tea he served to Ayato. 

Ayato seemed to grumble at that, knowing what Thoma wanted and that he refused to budge until he got what he wanted. So, he complied finally and lifted the cup to his mouth and took tiny sips to hopefully satisfy his retainer’s wants. But, before he knew it, the teacup was empty. Thoma sighed in relief, proud of himself for being able to get the Kamisato lord to put some substance in his body. Honestly, when Ayato did these days-long work binges, it made his chest heat up with frustration. It made him upset, angry even, that Ayato did this to himself. All he could do was offer his compassion, which always worked in the end. 

A smirk grew on Thoma’s face. “Enjoying yourself, My lord?” He pressed teasingly as he poured another glass for his companion. 

“Thoma,” Ayato finally met Thoma’s gaze and set his pen down, “what kind of tea is this?” His brow cocked with curiosity–and suspicion.

Feeling accomplished, Thoma answered: “Lavender.” Ah, the perfect medicine for an exhausted and overworked commissioner. Once he discovered how easily lavender took over Ayato’s body, he used it to his advantage to get the young master to take a break. 

Ayato couldn’t keep the glare in his expression as his lids already began to feel heavy. “Damn you,” he griped. 

“You need to rest,” Thoma nonchalantly shrugged. He really did not care that he “betrayed” his friend by forcing him to retire from this episode. “And, it is my job to take care of you, my lord.”

Ayato frowned and averted his eyes away from his housekeeper, which drew a gentle laugh from that housekeeper. He moved around Ayato’s desk and held his hand out for him to take. “It’s time for bed, Ayato.” His stomach still twisted in knots every time he spoke his name rather than his title. 

“I think I’d rather sleep right here..,” Ayato muttered, already sinking into his chair and dropping his head to his desk. Amused, Thoma shook his head. Ayato was still that stubborn child who preferred to make every task just a little harder than it had to be. 

“Come on,” Thoma snickered as he pulled his arm, forcing the stubborn man to his feet. “You already know you’d regret that in the morning.”

Ayato didn’t have the energy to protest. Instead, thankfully, he let Thoma lead him out of his quarters and into his room. 

It was dimly lit, with only the flickering candles Thoma had lit beforehand as their light source. “Thoma,” Ayato whined, but he had nothing to follow up with. He was trying to fight the overwhelming drowsiness but was failing miserably. 

Thoma, on the other hand, thanked Celestia that his lord was half-lidded and falling asleep as every second ticked by. He had done this dozens of times, but each time was still as difficult as the last in regard to completely hiding his feelings. If Ayato were fully awake, he definitely would’ve noticed his pupils took the shape of a heart. He guided him down to his futon, getting on one knee to make the process of getting him into bed smoother. 

He swore the heat that took over his face was warm enough to cook an egg in the exact way Ayato preferred them. This was something he had done dozens of times; he should've been used to it after around 10 years of doing it. But his heart never failed to remind him of the feelings he buried deep inside of it. Thoma cleared his throat, “Paperwork will still exist in the morning. It’s not going to grow legs and run away, I promise.” His smile was so lovesick that it hurt. 

It was absolutely ridiculous that, no matter how many times he had done it, he was so nervous removing Ayato’s coat. It was his job after all, so his hands shouldn’t be shaking while doing it after all these years. It always went unnoticed by the tired commissioner he served day after day, thankfully. 

As Thoma began to stand and drape the coat over his bamboo screen for him to put on the next day, Ayato grabbed his wrist. Thoma froze. He darted his eyes around the room, looking for absolutely anything else to look at rather than the man he was helplessly infatuated with, holding his wrist. “Um,” Thoma laughed nervously, “What is it, my lord?”

Ayato didn’t say anything; he only tugged Thoma onto the empty space next to him on his futon he sat on. “Ayato,” he muttered almost incomprehensibly. Ayato made himself comfortable by resting his head on Thoma’s lap. 

“What?” Thoma sputtered in his best attempt to remain collected and not sound like a fool in love. 

Ayato’s eyes fluttered shut. “My name,” he whispered, his voice trailing off. 

Thoma wanted to throw this boy off of him and run as fast as he could. He would run all the way to Watasumi Island if it were possible. Instead, he remained frozen. The man he was so undeniably in love with was sleeping on his lap, and there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps it was simply Ayato being delirious from being sleep deprived, and he wouldn’t even remember it in the morning. He stared at him. 

And suddenly nothing else mattered. Not the candles he needed to blow out so the Kamisato estate wouldn’t burn down. Not the cold autumn breeze that seeped through the cracks of the window, nor the duties he would attend to at dawn. All Thoma could see was his sleeping beauty. He listened to Ayato’s slow breathing, watching his chest move up and down with it. He studied his face, and there were no stress wrinkles he carried throughout the day. No silent worry about his next moves as the Head Yashiro Commissioner. No burden of a mountain load of paperwork, letters, and documents weighing on his shoulders. He truly looked like a dream. 

Thoma combed his fingers through Ayato’s messy blue hair. He admired the man sleeping on his lap. Every single detail he already knew, he studied again. He cupped Ayato’s soft cheek in his hand, caressing him gently. He couldn’t help the tears that welled in his eyes. As long as his lord was taken care of, happy, and healthy, that was all Thoma believed he needed. While his heart ached for the fantasy he dreamed about every night, this was enough. The love in his heart may forever remain unknown, but it would never slip away. 

Of course, he would do anything to be swept away by those delicate lips of his. Anything to lose himself in that outgrown hair he constantly failed to maintain. To spend every sleepless night murmuring nonsense to each other as if they didn’t have a busy day ahead of them. He imagined what it would be like to call this man his lover, not his lord. 

The crushing reality will always haunt these absurd dreams. Despite how physically close they were to each other, they were still worlds apart. There would forever be a canal that separated them, too big to hop over and join hands on the other side. No, it was Thoma, the chief retainer of the Kamisato household and the abundantly adored fixer of problems for Inazuma’s people, and it was Ayato, the Pillar of Fortitude, Head of the Kamisato Clan, and Yashiro Commissioner. 

Still, Thoma smiled down at him. “Goodnight, Ayato,” and planted the ghost of a kiss on his forehead.  

Three.

This was the first time in 3 years that Kamisato Ayato wanted to make a public appearance in Inazuma City. It was an unexpected surprise when he approached Thoma and requested that he accompany him. Ayato was not the type to want to show his face unless needed to. He would much rather be shut in his office and take care of business, and let Ayaka do the public part of it. Thoma was sure that the boyish grin that smeared across his face was not as hidden as he hoped it was.

He really loved it when Ayato talked about nonsense. And he talked a lot of nonsense on the walk to the city. If asked, Thoma would be able to recite their entire conversation they had on the trip over. He was fascinated by every word that left Ayato’s mouth, even when it was the stupidest thing Thoma had ever heard or some business talk he didn’t quite understand. It didn’t matter one bit what they chatted about. Ayato’s eyes sparkled when he got the chance to talk on and on without interruptions from outside parties. It was as if he left the Lord Commissioner at home and was simply just Ayato. The giddiness in his voice could send Thoma flying over the edge. He wanted to hear it all day and all night. He never wanted Ayato to stop talking. He never wanted Ayato to shut himself in his quarters ever again. He would thank Ayato if he talked his ears off, honestly.

Before they walked through the entrance of the city, cats and dogs ran to greet Thoma and his unfamiliar acquaintance. Stray cats purred and rubbed along Ayato’s leg, innocently begging for his attention. Thoma laughed at him, “Well, somebody likes you.” He squatted to the floor so he could flood the animals around them with love. 

For someone who had a big, intimidating title, he was extremely awkward. He watched the cat dance around his legs a few times, weaving between them. Ayato’s flustered stare at the gray kitty that meowed repeatedly at him made it impossible for Thoma not to admire him. This sophisticated, silver-blue-haired Yashiro commissioner was anything but what Inazumans called him. He had a dorkish manner to his character, but that was something only Thoma and Ayaka would ever see. Many people didn't particularly fancy the idea of seeing him as the human he was out of respect. It was understandable, but Thoma sometimes wished other people got to see him for the man he was behind those buzz words. 

Thoma tilted his head amusingly at him. “Oh, come on! You can’t ignore such a cute face!” He grabbed his lord’s gloved hand and pulled him down to his level. That person who had no idea how to shut his mouth just moments ago was now silent. Thoma watched him begin to gently pet the cat’s grey fur–in the most stiff way he had ever seen anyone pet a cat. He had to ignore the burning sensation in his throat and blame the sun on his flushed cheeks. 

Thoma rubbed his face against the nuzzled his face against the dirty white dog’s snout that was currently obsessing over him. He always carried treats on him whenever he visited the city and did his very best to absolutely spoil the animals who wandered the streets. 

Cats often wandered onto the estate grounds every so often. Thoma would sneak them some fish when no one was looking. His fellow housekeeper would scold him otherwise and tell him that if he didn’t stop, the cats would never leave. He would shrug at them with a sly smile. Why wouldn’t he want the cute little things to come back, anyway?

Ayato scratched the kitty under its chin, and it purred pleasantly. “I think we need to get one,” he said. His eyes were glued to the critter that was currently obsessed with him. Thoma had to admit to himself that he might have been just a little jealous of the damn thing. 

Thoma nodded in agreement instead. “It might calm your nerves,” he replied playfully. There was still truth in his words, though. A pet to be at Ayato’s side 24/7 would definitely be the perfect stress reliever. Then, Thoma wouldn’t have to deal with a grumpy commissioner all the time. “Maybe even take a buttload of whining off my shoulders, too,” Thoma joked as he stood up, dusting his hands on one another. Ayato shot him a glare before rising to his feet. 

“Or a dog to let some of that energy out of you,” he retorted. Thoma simply shrugged. He could only imagine what Ayato would look like curled up in bed with a dog at his feet or a cat lying on his chest. He had to take a mental note to bring one home when the time was right. “I really don’t get how you do it.”

“Do what?”

Ayato began walking ahead already, making his way to the entrance of Inazuma City. “Do you ever get tired?” The smile on his face was very clear. He was poking fun at his housekeeper. It warmed Thoma’s heart, though. He admired the way the sun beamed down on him. He was glowing under the fall sunshine that burned down from the sky. He stopped to partially turn back to Thoma. 

“I-,” Thoma stammered in response. The view in front of him was extremely distracting. The chilled breeze danced around them, and it blew through Ayato’s hair in such a perfect way that he thought he was dreaming. He rubbed the nape of his neck and turned away, swaying ever-so-slightly and avoiding eye contact. “...do not, my lord,” he finished. He forced a toothy grin on his face to play off the flustered disaster he was becoming. All he had done was ask Thoma a simple question; it wasn’t even anything special enough to warrant such a reaction.

In Thoma’s defense, Ayato did not have to do much to tug on the strings that held his heart. Ayato’s tiny smile back was enough to drive him up the wall. Some days, the most difficult task he had all day would be pulling himself together not to give away his everlasting feelings for his boss. Not even polishing the entire deck twice was as difficult sometimes.

“Are you thirsty?” Ayato interrupted the awkward silence that followed Thoma’s words. He didn’t even realize it was awkward until Ayato spoke.

His expression fell. He knew exactly what that meant. 

“What?” he noticed the sudden, dramatic shift in Thoma’s mood. 

Thoma skipped up to walk side by side with his master. “Of course, my lord,” he answered through gritted teeth. He hated bubble tea. The last time Ayato so generously bought him something similar to torture, in his opinion. Oh, and how much the young lord loved his “exotic flavours”. 

There was a sly smirk on Ayato’s face, though. And all he could do was accept his miserable fate.

“Thoma,” he spoke as his eyes scanned the tiny menu the boba vendor had set out. He clicked his tongue a few times before continuing, “Does jasmine rice sound enticing?”

He intertwined his hands behind his back and bit his lip nervously. Of course, he loved trying new flavors, foods, and dishes as often as he could. But something about milk and tea and literal squishy tapioca balls floating around in the drink irked his soul. “Yes, of course!” Thankfully, Ayato wasn’t the greatest at reading between the lines of what was ever said to him. Though, in this instance, it would help if he could do that for once.

Once their drinks were ordered and excitedly in Ayato’s hands, he shoved Thoma’s at his chest. An unfortunate trait about being a spoiled lord was the validation he sought involving trivial matters. He had a childlike glint in his eyes, which formed crescents from how loudly he was grinning. He seemed proud of his choice. 

To make matters even worse, Ayato refused to take a drink of his own until Thoma did. It had to be a sick joke the ‘innocent’ Yashiro Commissioner was playing on his eldest friend and most trusted retainer. 

Thoma glanced between the unfortunate-looking, lukewarm drink in his hand and his overtly thrilled companion. It made him a touch suspicious. It was the kind of mood he would get into when he would add the most diabolical seasonings and ingredients during a game of hot pot. 

Uncomfortable flavours immediately soaked into Thoma’s tongue when he took a sip. He had no time to control the visceral reaction that painted his face. He wanted to turn back time and tell Ayato that they should stay far away from the tea stand today. It was terrible. He squeezed his eyes closed, and his nose scrunched violently on his face. “Wow!” he coughed, shaking his head as if it would make the fruity, nutty, and creamy mixture out of his mouth. 

Instead of anger or disappointment, Ayato burst into laughter. His laughter was so loud that pedestrians began to stare with confused expressions. It was their first time seeing the man in years, and he was standing next to a bubble tea cart, laughing like there was no tomorrow. Thoma’s face warmed up and his cheeks flushed. This could possibly be the most embarrassing moment of his life thus far. 

“You should see the look on your face!” the blue-haired boy cracked through tears and bouts of giggles. And all Thoma could do was stand there, holding the foul excuse of a ‘drink’ he had ever had the misfortune of tasting in his hand. Ayato, on the other hand, took a swig of his tea like it was the most delicious delicacy that had ever graced his body. Thoma was dumbfounded, to say the least.

“Sir,” Thoma grumbled, running his free hand down his face in disarray. “I cannot believe you right now,” he snarled–lovingly, of course. 

It was one of Ayato’s strange pleasures to watch how someone, especially Thoma, squirmed when an unfamiliar, weird flavor hit their taste buds. Thoma always gave him the benefit of the doubt when Ayato would offer him anything he failed to disclose the ingredients of. And every time, he quickly regretted it. 

But, he couldn’t say no to someone like him. Not because it was his boss, or saying no to the head of the Kamisato household was a crime of some sort; he wanted Ayato to be happy. Anything Thoma could do to draw that hidden childish glee, he would do in a heartbeat. Even if it was going to be the worst mistake of his life.   

It made Ayato laugh, though. And that laugh was as sweet as sugar, and Thoma was addicted to it. He craved that sound more and more as every day passed. It felt like withdrawals when he went a day without hearing that sweet sound he adored so fiercely.

The male wiped the tears that spiked the edges of his eyes from laughing so hard. Thoma stood in front of him, as embarrassed as ever. “Ah, days like these are the days that keep me going,” he finally said. Thoma watched his eyes jump around the scenery, taking in every sakura petal that fell to the noises of busy passersby. He wished to photograph the glimmering look his face held so mesmerizingly, so he could look at it forever. The pinks and oranges of the dusk sky reflected off his twinkling eyes. The delicate purple colour of them perfectly mixed with the view the setting sun illustrated. They really did look like a calm ocean surrounded by a heavy storm. 

He would kill to grab Ayato’s face and smother it in relentless pecks. To hold him close while the sun set over Narukami Island, hands wrapped around his waist, and gently sway side to side. Those thoughts were only meant for dreaming about. 

Before the night sky could take over the nation for the night, the two of them waltzed around Amakane Island to top their adventurous day off. 

Thoma stood a small distance away from Ayato, so he could admire him from afar without being obvious. He looked gorgeous standing against one of the pink trees that lined the small island. He loved how Ayato seemed to glow under the moonlight, but the glow of the sunset might take the number one spot. The golden hues against his pale skin made him look ethereal. It would be silly to say he was almost jealous of the way the sun kissed him, but he was. As amazing as it felt, the pain in his chest would not falter. Because he could sit and watch and marvel all he wanted to, and not a thing would be able to change. He never could do anything more than just that. 

Vivid, deep purple flowers caught his eye. 

Thoma cleared his throat, “Ayato?” His hands fidgeted nervously behind his back as the boy turned to look at him. 

“What is it, Thoma?” He traced Thoma’s nervous figure, an unsure look taking over. “Is everything alright?”

He rolled a tiny stem between his fingers. It had a merely blossoming violet bud attached to it. Without a word, Thoma brushed Ayato’s hair behind his ear before sticking the tiny flower on top of it. From time to time, he found the courage to take big risks. He couldn’t keep all his feelings inside. The least he could do for himself was to take a chance wherever he could find it. Something that wouldn’t be a confession of love, just something simple. Something that Ayato surely would overlook as a friendship gesture rather than a romantic one.

The smile returned to Thoma was like Cupid’s shot to the heart. His smile was private. So gentle that only someone like Thoma would notice and take it as a smile. He had studied his face so much throughout the years, and little expressions began to seem created only for him to see. This hand lingered near Ayato’s face for a quick moment before he pulled away. 

Ayato sat on the ground, his back leaning against the sakura tree that hovered over them. Thoma responded the same. He hated it when Ayato wouldn’t reply immediately to something Thoma did that already had him jittering. He always would, though,

“Thank you, Thoma.” Thoma released a breath he didn’t mean to be holding. “There is no one else I’d rather spend these days with other than you.” He was no longer looking at his star retainer. He stared into the horizon, while Thoma stared at him. He noticed the pink blush that grazed his master's cheeks. The smile that he never let go of. The way the flower he picked out perfectly complemented those dazzling eyes.  

He sighed. Years and years of keeping his feelings deep within would always prove worth it from time to time. He could never let those moments slip by.         

Four.

“Earth to Thoma? Hello?” It took Ayaka snapping her fingers in Thoma’s face to kick him out of the trance he was in. 

He inhaled sharply and jumped. He hadn’t realized he was staring out one of the windows in the common area of the house. Nor did he know how long he had been sitting there either. “Ah, Milady!” Thoma quickly rose to his feet, ready to attend to Lady Ayaka’s requests. “I apologize, Milady,” he bowed with his apology, “I’m not sure what came over me.” He rubbed the nape of his neck nervously, swaying a bit on his heels. 

Ayaka shook her head. She tapped her closed fan against the palm of her hand, something she did when she was anxious about something. Thoma didn’t have to guess what it was; they were anxious about the same thing. Quickly, he composed himself and rested his hand over Ayaka’s fidgeting one. He gave her a kind smile, the most gentle one he could muster up at a time like this. 

Ayato promised he would be back before the moon and the stars took over the day. Thoma had told Ayato it was a terrible idea to follow up on a summoning from another commissioner on an unforgivingly hard rainy day. Of course, he didn’t listen. 

“Ayaka, it’s okay,” Thoma finally said after, what felt like, an ion of silence. “You know your brother, there is nothing to be worried about. He is smart. If he knew it was unsafe to leave his spot; he is probably waiting out the storm.” He wasn’t so sure that was the case, but, as Lady Kamisato’s closest friend and delegated retainer, it was his job to free her of these troubling thoughts. It was true that Ayato was a smart man, the smartest man Thoma had ever met, but he didn’t always make the smartest decisions. “We just have to trust him,” he added. It felt more like he was attempting to convince himself that Ayato was okay rather than assuring Ayaka of the fact.

“I know.” She retracted her hand from Thoma, “It’s not me who’s worried.” An innocent smile coaxed her face, and any previous unease seemed like it was never there in the first place. Thoma felt embarrassed to have even assumed something was wrong. He knew Ayaka trusted her brother with her whole heart. He knew Ayaka had never really expressed any worry for her brother when he would be gone longer than necessary. She has never doubted for a second that her brother was safe throughout all these years of the same situation. She flipped her fan open and covered half her face, but her creased eyes could not hide the mischievous smirk her lips made. 

Thoma was unimpressed. Despite the significant differences the siblings had from one another–Ayato, of course, being the head commissioner and Ayaka being the sibling who preferred to do the more social work the lord of the house dreaded doing–they would always have one similar quirk about them. They were both full of childlike playfulness. Not innocent playfulness, though. 

Unfortunately for Thoma, he was the easiest target for their teasing and pranks. Only Thoma knew their serious demeanors were just a facade they had to wear to appear like the put-together clan members they were expected to be. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Milady.” His body betrayed him. His cheeks ignited into flames, a burning red blush consuming his pale face. Of course, he knew what she was getting at. Her amused laugh told him she got the exact response she was looking for. Once the Kamisato siblings started prying at you, they wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted. Thoma found this extremely inconvenient as a man who was head-over-heels in love with one of the siblings.  

Ayaka giggled, fluttering the fan in front of her face. “He’s fine, Thoma,” she dragged her vowels, “Don’t worry so loudly.” She tapped Thoma’s nose with her fan when she closed it again. She set her fan on the table next to them and began to sway away, but not without letting out the most dramatic sigh she could muster. “You can always talk to me about it, you know.” 

Usually, Thoma would keep quiet and play dumb when Ayaka played with him like this. He would usually let the lady walk away and keep the topic hidden until the next time she’d catch him caught in an Ayato-ridden trance. “I know.”

Ayaka stopped in her tracks and slowly pivoted on her heels to face the housekeeper again. Surprise ruled her face. She was not expecting anything more than the usual embarrassed squeaks Thoma would make after she made a snarky comment about his feelings. Her brows knotted together as she looked Thoma up and down. Thoma would only talk to Ayaka about his never-ending crush on her big brother every once in a blue moon. He had been defensive about it for the last twelve years and tried his damndest to play pretend or to make it appear lesser than it truly was. 

Thoma swallowed before saying more. “I’m afraid he’s hurt. Or could get hurt. No one is there with him to protect him.” He crossed his legs and fell back down to the floor where he had been sitting before. He removed his horned headband so he could rest his forehead on the table. He banged his head against it gently in frustration. He rested his chin on his arms, which he crossed on the table. He felt defeated– hopeless. In a flash, Ayaka was sitting on her knees at the other end of the table. 

He was eternally grateful to have her. She never pressured him to talk about his feelings if he didn’t want to. She never told him what he should or should not do about it. She was the only person who was all ears when it came to Thoma. In all fairness, she was the only person who knew about this sickening infatuation he carried so heavily on his shoulders for years. She always looked at Thoma like she wanted to say more, but she never did. 

The pitter-pattering of the rain on the roof seemed to have no intention of stopping. No intentions to let the remaining sunshine seep through the clouds long enough for Ayato to make it back home. It was cruel, Thoma thought to himself. 

Unfortunately for him, his expressive personality was not only for being the brightest light in every room he was in. His anger was just as obvious, and so was his dismay. “He just never listens!” Thoma spat out, failing to bite his tongue. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I told him to stay home!” Again, he rested his forehead against the table. He didn’t want Ayaka to be able to hear what he was saying, but made a lazy attempt to make it happen.

Ayaka cocked her head to the side and frowned. She reached her hand over the table so she could grab his forearm comfortingly. She wasn’t used to this stressed-out version of Thoma. He was typically an expert at keeping such strong feelings inside. He would get stressed, of course, but he knew how to look at the lighter side of any situation and bury those negative emotions. 

Thoma turned his hand out to her, and she grabbed it. She held on to his hand tenderly as if she were holding the most fragile antique in all of Teyvat. “I just want him to be safe,” he mumbled. A beat. Then, “I need him to be safe.” 

She let his words hang in the air. She parted her lips to speak, but was abruptly interrupted by loud bustling at the front door. They both gave each other a knowing look before rushing to the source of the sound.

Once they turned the corner, one of the guards who had one of the commissioner's arms wrapped around his shoulders immediately began talking, “Lady Ayaka, we noticed Lord Kamisato dragging his feet as he walked up the hill to come inside, and we rushed to his aid.” There were two of them, both preventing the injured man from collapsing to the floor. Ayaka gave them a firm nod and waved for them to follow her. 

“Thank you,” she quivered as she pulled a chair out. “We can take it from here.” She helped guide her brother onto it gently before releasing the two guards back to their stations.

Thoma frantically slid on his knees with his first aid kit in hand. “My lord,” he fumbled with the buttons that sealed the bag, “what happened to you?”

Parts of Ayato’s clothes were ripped and torn. He was covered head to toe in mud, twigs, and other outside debris, and blood. Thoma bit down on his lips to resist saying what he really wanted to say. He wanted to call him an idiot-- a stupid idiot who should have listened to his best friend. To tell him he knew one day something would happen to him, and no one would be there to protect him when it did. The mixture of anxiety and the temper he wanted to lose was forced to stay inside as he bit down on his lip. All he knew was he needed to tend to potential open wounds, and that was all he would do. He scanned his master's body, grabbing his limbs and moving them rather aggressively as panic took control of his movements. 

“Thoma,” his words went unnoticed.

Again, “Thoma.” Strong hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him out of the frenzy he was in. Ayato looked down at him, deep purple eyes staring straight into his own green ones. He was afraid Ayato was reading his mind, seeing every thought and memory inside of him. Thoma breathed heavily. His fist balled around bandages in one hand and a towel in the other. He knew this maneuver well. It was an attempt to calm his nerves and clear his view rather than act on impulsivity and fear. “I am okay,” he was assertive with his affirmation. 

Thoma swallowed and ripped his gaze out of the ocean that was drowning him. “What happened?” he repeated his question breathlessly. 

Ayato looked at him a little longer before finally explaining, “I am assuming an attempt on my life. Not everybody likes me, it seems. As expected, I am a commissioner after all, and people will have their opposing views. And there will always be those willing to do anything to have their way.” He admitted to going through an assassination attempt way too nonchalantly. He was calm as he spoke, but Thoma could hear the hidden quivers through his sour words.  

Ayaka threw a fist at her brother's shoulder. “We were worried sick about you! You can’t just show up and act like everything is fine!” Ayaka was never the type to raise her voice, especially not to her brother, whom she loved so dearly. Her eyes were glossed over from tears that quickly began to spill down her cheeks. Thoma stayed absolutely silent. He found open gashes from the slices of swords scattered across his body and tended to them without a word. 

“I am sorry,” Ayato responded, grabbing his sister's hand and squeezing it delicately. “I did not mean to worry you both.” 

“You’re never leaving this estate without someone to accompany you, brother,” she hissed back at him. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him as if the world was ending. Which, in all fairness, it very well could have. “I am so glad you’re okay,” she sobbed into his chest. He combed his trembling fingers through his sister’s hair slowly. “Don’t ever scare us like that again,” her pleading was muffled as she talked into his chest, refusing to move. Her hands were clinging tightly to his shredded up suit. 

Thoma knew what he was doing; he knew the strong guy act when he saw it. Ayato cared so deeply for his sister, putting on a straight face and a fake, relaxed attitude in an attempt to calm her uneasy mind. If Thoma glanced up, he would see the tears threatening to tear through the “tough guy”’s mask. He would see the same little boy he used to be; someone so full of grief and guilt. Someone who would always pull himself together to make sure his loved ones were taken care of before he was even a consideration. He’d see his best friend, not his boss. 

“Ayaka,” he whispered into her hair, “get yourself ready for bed, and we can discuss it more in a moment.” He squeezed her tightly one last time before she pulled away from him. Both men watched her disappear into the hallway and behind her bedroom door.

Thoma didn’t speak. He went straight back to tending Ayato’s scars. Thankfully, they were surprisingly not very deep. It felt as if his heart were going to beat right out of his chest. He was cleaning up a cut on Ayato’s upper thigh when the man finally spoke after agonizing minutes of tense silence. “I am sorry, Thoma.”

Thoma’s eyes flickered up at him. His kind smile was small– and completely fake. “I’m just happy you made it home, My Lord,” he hummed and lowered his gaze back on his task. 

“Thoma.” Again, that deep voice with a one-word sentence. Thoma acknowledged he heard his master say his name with a tiny, barely noticeable nod. Ayato’s eyes were nervous. His attention jumped from his wound to Thoma’s hand that dabbed on the dried-up blood, and to Thoma’s face, and then out into nothingness in the dark Kamisato house. “Please,” he whispered. He looked so small, so defeated, as his eyes pleaded for Thoma’s attention.

“Ayato,” his voice matching Ayato’s. Thoma licked his lips and sat down on his calves. He fidgeted with the towel dotted with blood and dirt. “None of your wounds are very deep, which is good. Obviously.” Words choked in his throat as he was completely unsure of what to even say next. 

“I’m an idiot, and I should have listened to you.”

Thoma began searching for other potential injuries on Ayato’s torso. He went to press his towel against another open cut when Ayato grabbed his wrist. Thoma audibly swallowed, his breath hitching at the sudden gesture. “I never want to leave home without you by my side.” No one was around, but Ayato kept his voice low as if the walls had ears. A single flame illuminated their faces from a few feet away. It was one of the only candles still lit for the night before putting the house to sleep. The reflection of it in Ayato’s eyes burned into Thoma’s. He didn’t move an inch; he couldn’t. He wanted to melt right into the floor and never be seen again. “I trust you with my life. Much more than any trained soldier or a veteran guard who retired from the highest ranks.”

“Thank you, sir,” Thoma managed to muster out. 

“So, please,” his free hand cupped Thoma’s cheek. “Will you be the one to follow along wherever I go? Can you be the person I can count on to save my life?” he proposed. 

Thoma blinked. His mind failed to process everything that was happening. From the near loss of the love of his life, to being forced to see the remains of the attempt to steal his remaining days, to Ayato’s breaking voice as he spoke just to Thoma, to the fact that he was touching his face so intimately. “I always have been,” he breathed.

They stared at each other. Neither of them knew what to say or what to do, nor how to move away or lean forward. 

It seemed that Ayato had snapped back into reality and quickly retracted his hand after god knew how long they were staring at each other. “I’ll just-”

“Um, yeah.”

“I’ll, uh-,” He swallowed, “continue. Please.” He nodded down at the towel Thoma had nearly forgotten about. With no warning, Ayato slipped whatever was left of his shirt and jacket off his body. Thoma wanted to curl up into a ball and die right then and there. He had done this so many times, had seen Ayato shirtless on dozens of different occasions. 

“Right.” But it was different this time. He wanted to yell at Ayato, curse at him until he ran out of all the breath in his lungs. Why in all of Teyvat would he even do that? Did he know how Thoma felt and decide to start messing with his head? Or maybe it was just the adrenaline leaving his system after a long, gruesome night. Sometimes, he really wished Ayato knew how to take care of himself so he wouldn’t have to be the one who had to shuffle to be in between the Kamisato Lord’s legs to get a better angle for cleaning such an irresponsible man’s scars. Thoma rose on his knees and made a desperate attempt not to look up. He could feel those sickening, twisted, and downright cruel eyes staring dangerously down at him. He felt like he was being taunted by this man’s outlandish behavior. 

Ayato winced in pain, jolting in response to a small needle threading through his skin as Thoma stitched him up. After countless times stitching up the scars that decorated his body, he had gotten accustomed to the sudden movements and held his grip steadily until he was finished. He was frowning quite obviously, though. The fact that he had to be so close to his 12-year-long deepest desire did not make him as happy as one would think he’d be. He had memorized the faint outlines of abs coming in that never seemed to fully take shape, and he traced the discrete muscles on his arms that his fancy attire hid over and over in his mind far too many times. It was simply unfair that he had to suffer through the pain that gnawed relentlessly on his heart.

No, it wasn’t unfair. It was just his job. And he pledged his allegiance many moons ago, signing the mental contract that he would do anything and everything for the family who so graciously took him in when he needed it most. At the same time, if anyone else got the opportunity to be doing what he was, he would be full of selfish jealousy that his replacement got to see Ayato the way that he got to. 

Two cold fingers brushed lightly under his jaw and stopped at his chin. It was such a faint touch that if Thoma wasn’t so in love with the person the fingers belonged to, he wouldn’t have even noticed. His face was gently pushed up so he’d be looking up and away from the lesions he was not finished healing. Time had stopped in an instant. The air hung stiffly around them, the aroma of the burning candle no longer emitting the smell, nor was it flickering as it melted. The stars and the moon and the rain had all stopped to watch Ayato’s hand slip so graciously under Thoma’s jaw. His eyebrows rose in, what felt like, terror under the wild gaze of his boss. 

Thoma was not given any time to question the situation because Ayato’s lips were pressed against his own. He immediately dropped the medical supplies he had in his hands, not caring about the spill the rubbing alcohol made or the roll of bandages unraveling as it spun to the floor. Ayato’s lips were pressed against his own, and he was kissing him. 

Naturally, of course, Thoma pushed back after the initial shock of it all. His wide eyes of horror fluttered shut in an instant. The day he had been dreaming about every single time his eyes closed for the night was finally happening. The day he longed for every time the sun rose for a new day until it set for the night. He surely never imagined his first kiss would happen like this, but he had absolutely nothing to complain about. 

As he kissed Ayato back, he heard something of a moan slip out of the man’s mouth from somewhere deep inside his chest. As quickly as the kiss started, it ended just as fast. Their lips parted ways, but Thoma chased after the sudden emptiness staining his face. He froze mid-chase, realizing what he was doing. His expression must have looked exactly like Ayato’s: absolutely shocked–horrified even. Ayato seemed to flash his gaze from Thoma’s lips, to his eyes, and to his lips, and to his eyes again. It was as if he had no idea what had even happened. 

Frankly, Thoma didn’t really know either. He thought he was going to vomit right on the lap of the very man he was in love with. On the very man who just kissed him out of the blue. The same man had written hundreds of journal entries about. Every single memory of Thoma’s unrequited yearning flashed through his mind, but his mouth said nothing. 

His fingers were grabbing onto the sides of the chair for dear life. As if he would fall and never stop falling if he were to let go. There was no hiding the cherry red blush that painted his face. Not that Ayato’s was any better. 

“Thoma, I’m..,” he stifled, “I should retire for the night. Thank you for stitching me up.” He gave Thoma a firm nod and stood up in front of him. Thoma looked up at him and fell back into sitting on his calves. Ayato was emotionless when he pressed his bottom lip to his top to make a half-assed smile. 

Thoma’s eyes followed Ayato to his bedroom and only stopped once the door shut. He looked at his hands as if they would hold the answers to the questions that were swirling through his mind. He wanted to get up, jump up and down, and celebrate. He wanted to confirm he didn’t have to be afraid to feel so unfathomably in love with his best friend anymore. 

But he didn’t.

He was left in the middle of the floor, the supplies he had discarded not even three minutes prior scattered around him. He was left to sink into his own body and comfort himself. He felt his heart shattering as seconds ticked by, the longer he sat and dwelt on what unfolded. His strange state of relief and happiness mixed in with utter dread made him nothing less than nauseous.

Alas, he picked up his first aid kit and let the night consume him into its harrowing embrace.        

Five.

Ayato made sure to request that any other member of the Kamisato staff tend to his daily necessities.

Ayato made sure to hide himself in his study.

Ayato made sure that Thoma would not be the one cleaning up his desk, forcing him to go to bed when he had been up all night, making his tea, or having nonsense conversations while he tried to work.

Ayato had shut just about everyone out for the last three days.

Thoma carried on with his work. He had a job to do regardless of any personal issues between him and the Yashiro Commissioner. He still had a young lady to attend to, despite the growing misery in his bones. 

“You’re acting strange,” Ayaka spoke out of the blue as she sipped her afternoon tea. She didn’t even look up when she was talking, but it was obvious she knew something was off. 

Thoma froze when she broke the tense silence that had accidentally settled between the two. He didn’t mean to be so distant from Ayaka since none of this was her fault. He just wanted to focus on cleaning because cleaning keeps the feelings away. 

“I, uh,” his feather duster hovered over the mantle it was wiping down, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Milady.” He tried to laugh, but it was void of any actual emotion. 

When she finally met his gaze, the sadness in her eyes was indisputable. “You should take the day off, Thoma.” 

“No, it’s quite al-...”

“You never take days off, Thoma. You do so much for us,” her smile was kind when she interrupted her housekeeper. It was obvious she knew the real reason for his behavior, but she chose to stay quiet about it. 

Thoma tugged on the collar of his shirt, contemplating his answer. 

“That is a request,” Ayaka shot down any rejection to her order. 

Thoma bit his lip and avoided looking directly at her. He bowed his head, “Thank you, Milady.” He scampered off into his room without another word. He shut his door behind him, a little harsher than he had intended to, and bumped his forehead against it a few times. 

On his bed was a tray of sweets, a note, and a vase with an assortment of flowers in it. He wiped the tears that stung the edges of his eyes when he noticed. His heart skipped a beat. Was it Ayato finally freeing Thoma of the torture he was enduring? 

Instead, the note was in Ayaka’s handwriting. 

‘ ‘ Thoma,

I left you some Sakura Mochi, my mother's old recipe. I know I cannot do much to settle your troubles, but I am always here for you. I am sorry my brother is being the stubborn prick he tends to be sometimes. Please take the time to care for yourself during these confusing times. I may not know the details, but what I do know is that you deserve to feel some calm in the middle of such a dreadful storm. You know where to find me if you need someone to talk to.

With love, your best friend, 

Ayaka’ ‘

A wet laugh slipped through his trembling lips once he finished reading her note. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop the aching feeling in his chest. His head rushed with confusion, hurt, and anger. It was difficult for anger to get to him. He could be going through the worst minute of his life and still would not be angry. But this was different. 

This was his best friend, his boss– the man he was deathly in love with. Thoma knew Ayato only took care of his feelings in the worst, most isolating ways. He just couldn’t grasp the reason why this, of all things, would be one of those isolating situations. Part of him wanted to break down the door of his study and beg for answers. Or to forget it all happened and move on like normal. To continue to live in a rollercoaster of agony and euphoria would be better than being flat out avoided. 

He set the generous tray aside on a nearby table that only had a framed photo of the three of them. He flopped face-first into his shikifuton, letting out a muffled, frustrated groan into the mattress. His fingers carded through his tangled, undone hair that he hadn’t bothered to tie back when he woke up. 

Finally, after three days since the incident, since the kiss, he let himself go. He didn’t want it to bother him so deeply, but there was no stopping the tears once they began flowing. He had no idea how he, or they, would ever recover from whatever it was that happened that night. 

The day Ayato had refused to listen to him. When he left despite the pouring rain that had no end in sight. The waiting and waiting as the night grew older, and the relentless storm had not let up. Just for him to show up, soaking wet and covered in battle wounds. For Ayato to return home after deliberately putting himself in danger's way, to make his beloved sister and his ever-so loyal retainer worried sick, then kissing him. Images of their lips meeting for the first time flashed through his mind, regardless of how hard he attempted to shove them out. The sparks that flew from their touch, the warmth under Ayato’s hand where he held Thoma’s face, all of it crashed into him like a beach suffering the high tide. The raging tsunami of pity for himself mocked him.

All he could wonder was “Why?”

Ten years of disguising childish wants whirled into the drain. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what Ayato must have been thinking. Was it one of his pranks that went too far? Or maybe it was the adrenaline from the near murder attempt on his life. 

Or maybe it was the web of truth coming undone in the worst possible way.

Two light knocks at his door prompted him to shoot up into a sitting position. To no avail, he desperately tried to wipe his face dry before the person at the door entered.

There stood Ayato. His wild hair flying every which way, dark eye bags painting the underside of his lost eyes. His clothes were disheveled and probably unchanged for at least a day, from sticking to his quarters and nowhere else. The temour in his hands that he attempted to hide. Thoma noticed it all. He always noticed all of Ayato within the first seconds of seeing him every day. He saw a man who did not look like the same one from three long nights ago. His first instinct was to tend to him as the trusty retainer he was. He wanted to hop to his feet and act like three nights ago did not even exist, and get the young lord dressed up and presentable. 

Instead, Thoma said nothing. He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what Ayato was even thinking. That was something Ayato was good at. Always hiding what was going on inside that overworked brain of his. Being such an important political figure, he learned how to do that very quickly and very effectively. Over the years, Thoma was able to read behind his blank eyes when he would stonewall and attempt to shut every feeling and every thought out. But this Ayato was unfamiliar. Someone he couldn’t see and immediately understand what they were going through, and what they needed to be lifted up. This Ayato was unfamiliar. It frustrated Thoma even more that he was being barred from dissecting his truth.

“Thoma, I-..” Ayato choked out. He avoided meeting Thoma's gaze as he tried to speak. He found the ground, the ceiling, the door–the picture frame– all much more interesting than the desperate and beaten green eyes that longed for an answer. 

“We can forget it ever happened,” Thoma blurted. That wasn’t what he wanted whatsoever. Never in a million years did he sincerely want to erase the past and keep moving forward in a rewritten present. It was either move on with it and suck up all the pain it would cause him as another day passed by, or possibly forfeit his position and see himself back to Mondstat. Both were horrendous outcomes, but they were the only logical ones he could come up with. “We–We can move on and say it was some silly mistake-”

“It wasn’t a mistake."

“Wha-?”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” he repeated, not willing to let Thoma finish any of his sentences if he continued to say anything as ridiculous as he was trying to say. Thoma rose to his feet, but he felt like a statue. He wanted to walk toward Ayato, but his body would not let him. 

“Then why–.”

Again. “I was scared,” the expression on Thoma’s face ushered him on, “and I thought…If I had died that day, I would have died regretting not knowing what it felt like to have your lips on mine.” 

They met each other in the middle of the room. Their movements were synchronized when they walked, as if the world was tugging on the distance between them and pulling it shut. 

“And I ran away. I ran away and shut myself out, ashamed that I might have ruined the best thing I have ever known. I was so afraid of your rejection that I took myself out of the equation first– to avoid pain I was only making up in my mind rather than face you head-on.” Their stares finally met. “I realized the mistake of avoiding you was much more costly than any rejection you could ever give me. I’m sorry, Thoma. If you would like to pretend it never happened, then we can. I just…,” Thoma noticed the tears that threatened his eyes and the quiver in his lip that he bit down on. “I love you, Thoma. I can’t lose you.” 

The remaining space between them sealed shut. Thoma’s hand snaked its way onto the waist of the shorter boy and pulled him against his own body. His free hand cupped Ayato’s cheek as he kissed him the same way he did that night, with the same burning and relentless passion that he kept locked up for over a decade. He felt Ayato tense up, then quickly melt into his touch. No days of silence, no words being left unspoken, no confusion, no hurt, nor anger could seep through their connected bodies. There was absolutely nothing that could crash their own little world they floated into.

Every moment Thoma kept quiet proved itself to be worth it completely. All the dreams of being able to let his feelings go and be free of the burden washed away. 

The two pushed each other away with desperate gasps for breath. Neither of them wanted to pull away unless absolutely forced to. 

Ayato cleared his throat, “So, does that mean you accept my apology?”

Thoma rolled his eyes, and a loving chuckle rose from his chest. “Only if you tell me how long you’ve wanted this,” he insisted half jokingly.

The hydro vision holder’s face nearly matched the pyro vision that swung the owner’s hip. He hid his face in his hands and mumbled, “At least for the last… eight years.” 

“Oh.”

“You?”

“Since the day I washed up on the shore of Narukami Island and saw your eyes for the first time ten years ago,” he confessed shyly as he swayed on his heels, trying to be as less awkward as he could be. It was a little silly to be feeling shy around the man he just kissed as if the world would end right then and there. “I have been in love with you since that very day.” 

Sparks flew between their mouths, and the world shone a little brighter as their lips danced against one another. Ayato walked Thoma back to his mattress, and the two of them fell onto the bed together without releasing each other. 

The moon and the stars orbited in the sky above the Kamisato Estate, illuminating its gentle glow on the two until the birds began to chirp in the morning.