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indeed, this was a rare, peculiar sight.
harder days in ayato’s field of work were a given. he was born into it all, this is who he was meant to be. this was his purpose, to continue the legacy of his clan. to be the head of the yashiro commission is why he was there to begin with; oftentimes, it felt like his life had no other purpose other than to fulfill his given destiny. his destiny as the eldest child to the former kamisato clan head. obviously, his beloved sister, ayaka, played a big role in all the commission’s affairs. you could even say the public masses loved her much more than they’d ever love the cheeky, blue-haired man who was her big brother and superior.
unlike ayaka, the public liked to assume the commissioner was cold and emotionless, only having a fake smile plastered on his face when doing public appearances: to fool the naked eye into a sense of calmness, a fabricated serenity. they thought of ayaka as being much more humane than ayato, despite her trying to convince them otherwise. she was simply... kinder. more gentle, elegant, a very beautiful young lady who was successful, established and highly empathic. she was the bright side of the moon, shining down and offering her elegant light as the nights in inazuma passed by as cranes in flight.
ayato was the dark, unexplored, unseen and misunderstood dark side of the satellite. he had this mysterious and dangerous aura about him that not many particularly enjoyed. when it’s too dark outside to see, and you look up for the guidance of the moon, only to be welcomed by the hostility of even more shadows- youre sure to grow weary and perhaps even afraid of your surroundings. that was just his public persona.
except, he had no choice. this was the family he was born in- one he loved and treasured, one that he was tied to deeply. he loved his parents, he loves his sister and he always loved the people of inazuma. after all, the cultural customs of the nation were in his hands. there is beauty in tradition, and the yashiro commissioner enjoyed beauty just as he enjoyed the simple things.
tonight though, possibly for the first time in years- he really, really couldn’t remember the last time it had happened- the man was propped up on the smaller desk within his room, with a hand on his forehead and another propped up against his jaw. usually, his work keeps him busy enough to help him ignore any malicious thoughts, but tonight, he thought about his family. this clan that has taken his freedom away from him the moment he was given birth to, the ones who raised him to be so successful yet perished so early. he had no choice. he was never in a hundred thousand years letting ayaka take up all his responsibilities for him to just selfishly retire; she was busy enough as is. or worse, die. he couldn’t possibly do that to his dear and only sister.
he had no choice. he was stuck doing what he was doing forever. he had been since he was born into the name of kamisato.
he missed his parents.
his husband, kazuha, was also out on an important clan errand that he wasn’t able to complete himself. he should’ve been home any minute now. that thought, however, wasn’t enough to comfort the commissioner. he was human too, despite everything, he was so, very human. and he was overwhelmed. therefore, one hot teardrop fell from his eye, down his cheek and onto the delicately polished surface of the ottogi wood furniture beneath him.
he was silent, however. his breaths completely steady. his mind on the inside was racing, hurling itself along the walls of his cranium, much louder than his body could express. despite it all though, despite the tear going down his cheek, when he was alone, no matter the anguish plaguing him, he felt empty.
the glassy surface of his eyes kept pooling with the tears, but his self-discipline and control got in the way of his ability to shed such sorrows. and he wanted to. oh, he wanted to be able to cry so much sometimes. the weights that hung off of his heart were bigger than any outsider could know. kazuha occasionally was let in on his worries and aches, but other than him, nobody else had seen him in a vulnerable state in a long, long time.
ayato sighed, letting out an elongated puff of air that had plagued the insides of his lungs for a little too long, maybe. he had no time to be sad now. he must return to his work. work without which the commission he led would collapse. but, almost as if on cue, one of the tears that almost didn’t escape the clutches of his eyelids fell down his cheek. the silky skin of his face glistened in a line where the tear had rolled, almost like a diamond ring shining on a fair maiden’s finger.
and the door slid open.
“my moon, i’m back home,” kazuha exclaimed, running a hand through his hair as he entered the room, his socks making no noise as he lightly stepped in. he didn’t realize what had been happening. ayato hid his face and quickly turned away, rubbing at the unwanted moisture in his eyes.
“welcome home.” ayato replied sharply but with a familiar kindness beneath a few layers of his tone, though well hidden as it was.
“it’s gotten nice and cold outside, allow me to open the windows, love.”
kazuha didn’t look at the commissioner very hard yet. he had no time to take in the more and more disheveled he looked by the second. it’s like the former kaedehara’s presence made something inside ayato’s heart snap. if he wasn’t careful, he might break into sobs right then and there.
suddenly, emotions returned. his husband was home, after all. around him, he could feel.
the gentle click of the windows as a small gust of wind blew in made ayato return to the moment. guided by kazuha with the use of his vision, the near-steamed air was moved away and in circulated new, fresh air. much needed by the blue-haired politician.
“how w,”
ayato’s voice cracked.
“ ahem, ” he tried clearing his voice, but even that was shaky. “how was your trip, my sweet?” he inquired, his head still turned away from the beige-red haired man he was married to. he hoped and he prayed to celestia that he would just let that crack of his voice go.
“...nevermind that, ayato.”
damn it.
“what’s wrong, my moon?” kazuha asked, his vocal chords laced with honey and satin. the sound of his question pulled at whatever strings held ayato together even more.
“nothing you should concern yourself with, my dear. i’m fine.” ayato replied, this time a bit firmer.
it was kazuha’s turn to sigh. though it was a very, very affectionate sigh. he shook his head gently, untying his ponytail and going to sit next to his lover.
“you know that none of your sweet little lies can go past me, ayato. i might’ve not noticed right as i entered the room, but i can see it in your eyes, you know,” the red eyes of kazuha softened more as he caressed the commissioner’s cheek, touch as light as a feather’s.
“your eyes are like thunderstorms. when you’re upset, lightning starts to strike inside of them, almost as cruelly as the shogun’s might. and, now, the storm clouds in your eyes are darker than ever before. so, tell me. and, if it is the case, let it storm inside those eyes. let your tears flow like ruthless floods,” kazuha spoke gently, as if talking any louder might crack the porcelain skin that he had touched just moments ago.
“and once the rains cease and your mind finds its peace, allow me to see that clear purple dusk, as those thick clouds make way for something else. will you grant me that view from within you, my moon?”
kazuha’s poetry sometimes was too much to handle. especially in moments like these. the fog in ayato’s mind got harder to navigate the more he spoke, and in the end, ayato obliged. soon enough, salty tears flowed down his cheeks again, more free now- like cascades. his breathing became labored and uneven, however no sound escaped him. he simply stared off into the distance, inhaling sharply and letting out silent gasps every once in a while as he cried in his husband’s arms.
“there, there... see, it isn’t all that bad, is it?” kazuha gently reassured ayato, a hand stroking his back in circles in an attempt to comfort him. he even began humming a tune only he knew, all to help the commissioner feel better.
the tears fell freely, staining the desk, their clothes, ayato’s skin, and yet still, no whimpers of pain and nothing more than gasps for air. he lost the ability to vocalize his sorrow long ago.
though, his fists gripped onto kazuha’s yukata harder. it went on for another short while, but, like any summer storm, it must end. the rain stopped, and so must the thunder. ayato started taking in deep breaths, regulating his breathing all by himself. as his shoulders relaxed and his tense muscles gave out one by one, he fell into kazuha’s warm embrace, burying his face into his neck.
“forgive me,” he began, voice still a bit shaky, lungs not quite used to speaking again just yet. “i wet your clothes with my tears.” ayato could even muster up a little smile as he said that, though kazuha couldn’t see.
“if you are the rain falling from the heavens, then what use is an umbrella? for me, you are a blessing. why would i try to shield myself from such fortune?” kazuha cooed, rocking his husband from side to side tenderly as poetry flowed off his tongue like flowers.
“...you’re so, so cheesy, you know that..?” ayato remarked teasingly, but with gratitude. he understood what he meant. ‘ i don’t care if my clothes are wet from your tears. ’ is what kazuha would’ve said, if his vocabulary wasn’t embroidered with petals and morning dew.
“and, what if i am? it proves to be quite effective!” a giggle left from kazuha’s chest as he spoke.
“yes, right... effective...”
ayato slowly- and, quite unwillingly- detached himself from his husband’s frame. it had gotten much too late. they both needed to rest soon if they wanted to catch up with what work the politician didn’t get to finish that night.
“let’s get to bed, now, please?” a soft plea erupted out of ayato, like a child’s. it wasn’t often he displayed such fragility.
“alright. you don’t have to tell me twice... those errands i needed to do were tiring, today. though, i imagine not as tiring as what you’ve been going through. would you like to tell me what upset you in the first place, my dear? while we get ready for bed?” the former kaedehara gently pried at ayato’s soul. he needed to make sure the man knew his troubles were safe with him this time too, as they had been all the others.
“i...” ayato huffed, getting up and walking towards their shared futon. “i started thinking about my parents. and then the clan, my future, the commission’s future... i suppose it was just a downwards spiral.” he admitted, looking away, almost ashamed. “i realize i almost never break down like this, so i’d like to apologize.”
“apologize? oh, that’s just silly.” kazuha had been changing while ayato vented to him, and now he was in his night clothes. he laid down onto the silky sheets, patiently waiting for ayato to turn off the lights and to join him in bed as well.
“well, maybe it is to you, but for me, i,” he began, purple eyes taking one last glance at kazuha in the light before turning the lights off; only source of illumination left in the room now was the satellite in the sky, object he mirrored in mind and body.
“i feel as if i owe you an apology. i am always composed and rational. this isn’t really supposed to happen.” he continued, to which kazuha only shook his head. ayato laid down next to him as well, his back flat against the floor and the back of his head engulfed by the soft pillow. kazuha snaked an arm around his abdomen, turning on his side to nestle his head onto his lover’s arm.
“no sea can be calm forever. just like no volcano can be still forever, either. plus, your eyes are always so much more beautiful the day after you cry. they become crystal clear, like the purest amethysts. and, no matter how exceptional your composure, sometimes it just gets too hard. i’m glad i was here to help you through it. you forget how much i love you, ayato.” kazuha scolded gently.
“plus...” he added. “i can count a few times where your more mischievous side got the best of you. which isn’t a bad thing at all, but, especially that hot-pot game of yours...” kazuha grimaced jokingly, his face contorting as if he drank a cup full of lemon juice.
“i, well,” ayato stammered. he got so deep into his feelings he almost forgot that ‘calm’ and ‘rational’ isn’t all he is. then, he chuckled, a deep genuine sound emitting from his lungs. “i suppose you’re right... i’m surprised thoma still loves me after all the times he lost.” right. thoma, ayaka, many others did love and care about him. they were the important ones. they were his family.
“i’m surprised i still lo-” kazuha began jokingly, but ayato put his hand to his mouth before he could finish. however, the gesture didn’t bother kazuha. instead, he smiled and closed his eyes, his eyelids smiling along.
“ah, ah, ah. now now, kazuha, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, hm?” ayato replied, the mischief referenced earlier returning to his demeanor. and, yet, his smile dropped a bit when he released kazuha’s face from his grasp, and he sighed.
“you’re right. i do have people who love me and... i am happy. mostly. i just can’t shake off the impending doom that my death is going to bring. what will be of you and all the rest i consider family when i inevitably meet my end? what will be of the estate, the commission? i... suppose i am a bit paranoid about that. more than i’d like to admit.”
“you say all that as if you’ll be gone in a few day’s time, my moon. it’s a bit unreasonable to think so far ahead in such a negative way. which doesn’t mean i don’t understand where you’re coming from or... that i don’t also have the fear of your death myself. but, i think that, when you care about some people a lot, your death and how it will affect them is bound to make a fear sprout like that,” kazuha began, he had a lot to say to ayato now that he had the chance to.
the former kaedehara rose from his position, propping himself up on his elbow, his other hand reaching to brush ayato’s perfect hair out of his eyes, even if they were closed. then, he took advantage of the circumstances, and caressed the commissioner’s cheeks with a tenderness ayato couldn’t find anywhere else.
“there’s no escaping fate. but, that does not mean that until the inevitable end of all of us, we can’t enjoy what we do have. i know grief, and i know loss. maybe better than some others. despite the regret, though, i do cherish what i had, and i remember the good- and, the bad, alike- fondly, because that’s all that’s left for me now. and i grieve, still. but i know that my grieving is not in vain, and that some day, other people will remember me and you just as fondly as i remember my family and my friend.”
whenever kazuha spoke so passionately about some things, ayato’s heart melted, yet when it came to such heavy subjects, he also felt sorrow for having to make his husband remember such things. but he takes his word as they were uttered: ‘other people will remember me and you just as fondly as i remember’ . there was no reason for ayato to dwell on such things when kazuha spoke so warmly.
“so, i hope you do know, even if in three days’ time you won’t be here anymore- nobody will hate you for going too early. nobody will resent the kamisato clan for your death, nobody will blame you for putting the yashiro commission in a difficult position. we will mourn, and regret, as is normal. but we will not despair. that’s what you were most sad about, were you not?”
“you’re a bit too good at reading my mind, kazuha. if i didn’t know any better i’d think you used some sort of telepathy... you’re not a youkai, are you?” ayato joked. truthfully. though, kazuha hit the spot with his little speech.
“no, i’m not a youkai. though, that’d be cool, wouldn’t it?”
ayato chose the perfect time to open his eyes. his gaze was met with kazuha’s wide grin, a sight he could watch for hours and hours.
“did my silly rambles ease your soul, my moon? i hope i didn’t speak too much.” kazuha uttered out, a guilty pout making its way into his features. then, he crashed into the pillow dramatically.
ayato took the opportunity to wrap around him tightly, squeezing him to his chest.
“no. you could speak for the rest of eternity and i would not get bored.” then, he planted a gentle kiss atop kazuha’s head. “and you did tell me everything i needed to hear, as you always do. i’m very thankful that you’re here with me. you’re right, there’s no escaping fate. i do suppose there’s ways to sweeten fate, though, and my fate became better when i chose you as my partner. and i’ll make sure to live a long, long life, so you do the same, yes?”
this simple vow, uttered so sleepily, held so much love.
“of course. there is no moon without a sun, is there?”
kazuha then closed his eyes, preparing to drift into sleep. ayato was ready to doze off as well. after all, he needed rest to take his fate as the heir to the kamisato clan head-on, didn’t he?