Title: Vivid in the Light
By: Etteee
Swish.
Perfection, what was it exactly?
It wasn’t something attainable, nor was it something real that could be seen and held, or even felt. It was a goal, a destination that people strived to achieve, but to Kamisato Ayato, it was something different entirely. Because to him, it wasn’t an accomplishment, but a requirement; the need to always be better than others, to not show any weaknesses, to see what steps everyone else was going to take and knowing how to overcome them—to stay afloat in this politics-ridden world of Inazuma.
It wasn’t anybody else who entrusted this responsibility to him, no. If it were someone else, even his father, perhaps he would have been less tenacious. No one could force him to do it. He was the young master of the Kamisato clan, someone who’d lived spoiled with a silver spoon in his mouth since he’d been born, so how could anyone make him do anything he didn’t want to? He was the one who wanted to do it, which, if others realized, would be a terrifying fact.
In the end, he decided to sacrifice everything for this cause, so if he made a mistake, he would be the first one to condemn himself. That was only natural, right?
Swish.
The blade seemed to cut down the air, its speed alone causing the wind to blow following its course. It parried the sword of the enemy before changing paths and stopping only when it had reached the attacker’s neck. A few millimeters deeper and it would have cut their life down like an executioner.
Kujou Kamaji smiled shakily, cold sweat sliding down his neck. If it had been anyone else, they definitely wouldn’t be precise enough to stop their sword with such a speed. Thankfully, it was Kamisato Ayato he was sparring with. The man had been a prodigy since birth, always flawless in everything he did, so there was no need to worry.
Ayato retreated and bowed. “You went easy on me.”
Kamaji blushed at this, shaking his head. “No, no, Lord Commissioner is very skilled indeed. Thank you for gracing me with this opportunity to cross swords with you amidst your busy schedule.”
“It’s nothing. Aren’t we friends?”
“You’re—ah.”
Wasn’t it odd for a noble to cut off his speech so suddenly? And he was looking at Ayato worriedly, too. Who won here? Who should be looking worriedly at who, hey?
“What is it?” Ayato smiled, not noticing the droplets of blood that fell onto his shirt.
But instead of Kujou Kamaji, it was his retainer who replied as if strangled. “Waka! Your nose is bleeding!”
“Ah?” he asked, more to himself. Reflexively, Ayato’s fingers went to check his nose, but even before it touched the skin, blood had encoated it. The last thing he thought of was, well, that certainly didn’t seem normal before he fell to the side.
Thud. How embarrassing. He won yet he couldn’t even stay standing.
“How long have you been sitting there? Aren’t there more important things to do? I didn’t realize the people working at this household were so idle—if so, why do I work so hard every day?”
Kamisato Ayato wondered where he left his decorum. He didn’t mean to act so rudely first thing in the morning, but when he saw his retainer who was sitting next to his bed with dark circles around his eyes, slumped like he’d been there for decades.
It was his own fault.
Thoma was loyal to a fault. He wore his heart on his sleeve like he wasn’t afraid it would get stolen away, because it was glaringly obvious who owned it: Ayato. And Ayato knew this. What was painful was that he knew this and he couldn’t do anything to reciprocate because—
Because of Ayaka.
Without him getting into an arranged marriage with a woman, how was Ayaka supposed to live peacefully? Ayato knew the burden that always lied dormantly on her shoulders, so near her neck that it could choke her—he couldn’t bear leaving her with more. What kind of brother would he be, then? So, he would have to marry a woman. He had made peace with that, but the fact that the man he loved kept sending him heart-eyes—it was painful, alright? His sense of responsibility wasn’t that strong.
“Waka,” the one beside him suddenly said, calling him out of his stupor. Thoma had stood up, looming at him from above. There were creases on his forehead, looking like they’d made home in his stress. His hands were lamely hanging by his side like he wanted to touch Ayato but was afraid of rejection. “You may have long since figured out my romantic feelings for you. For this reason, I will bear any punishment; be it a beating or humiliation of any kind, but please, I just ask you to take care of yourself.”
First of all, it was a surprise to hear Thoma being so brazen, especially when it came to a topic that he was obviously not used to. However, it was insane to think Ayato wanted to punish him for it. Also, hadn’t he always been this way? Ayato knew it was worrying to see him work from morning till the moon appeared, but it was normal at this point. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just asked, “What?”
“I know that you hate me. What I don’t understand is why you treat yourself so badly because of it. If you want me gone from your sights, you can simply fire me.”
Ah.
He didn’t realize anyone noticed that he’d been working just a little harder than usual. It was an attempt, really, a punishment for himself because he had been having his head in the Thoma-filled clouds all the time. However, instead of explaining this embarrassing detail, he said after a long pause, “I can’t fire you.”
“Why not?” Thoma looked ready to pull his hair out.
Ayato would’ve soothed him if it wasn’t for his body hindering him. He knew he would keel over the moment he tried to get up, so instead, he tried to explain. “There’s a misunderstanding. I don’t hate you.”
Ayato would capture this moment if he had a Kamera at hand. Thoma’s jaw fell slack before opening and closing like a fish. “...Huh?”
It was too endearing to see. He couldn’t stop the tips of his lips from lifting before sighing. “It’s just that… If I don’t act this way, neither of us will hold back. What will happen to the Kamisato clan then? I cannot… I cannot give the burden of producing an heir to Ayaka.”
Thoma still had a faraway look in his eyes, as if the words were processing one by one in his head. When it did, he too couldn’t stop himself from smiling for a whole different reason. “...Is that so…”
Reaching out, Ayato grabbed Thoma’s hand from the bedside with his two hands. It was warm, almost unbearably so when . “I’m sorry. I won’t treat you badly from now on.” Ayato tried to apologize as earnestly as he could, but he knew that words were useless. As an afterthought, he added, “And I’ll take care of myself better too.”
In response, he got a little laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, nothing. I just thought it’s so fitting that the thing that makes me fall in love with you is the very reason why we have to be apart.”
That night, Ayato remembers to sleep not-so-late into the night so as to not worry his retainer. Not that he could do much in the first place, anyways. His body was sore all over and his sister was glaring at him in an attempt to make him rest. It worked.
The next morning, a book was placed neatly on his desk. He knew immediately who placed it; only two people were allowed to enter his room when he wasn’t there. It was curiously sitting there, its pages divided with a pressed flower bookmark. He sat down and opened it, landing on the page titled, “Change.”
Sincerity of one's strength of character. Ayato took the bookmark and held it against the sun as if it would reveal its secrets to him. If only Thoma realized he was the strongest and most sincere man Ayato knew. He inserted it back in between the pages and wondered if it was possible after all, to change.
If anything, they still had this. They would always have this—love.
Part of Hanakotoba Anthology
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