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It begins with Thoma, fourteen years old, washed up on the shores of Narukami Island.
It begins with the Kamisato siblings and their mother, fifteen and ten, taking a stroll by the beach.
It begins with Kamisato Ayaka screaming about a dead body.
Thoma cleans to earn his keep, despite the protests of Madam Kamisato. He starts with the small room he’s been given, then it evolves into the hallway outside his door, then into the courtyard, then to the servant’s common area.
“He already cleans half the Estate,” the lead housekeeper at the time says, a conversation with Madam Kamisato that Thoma hadn’t meant to overhear. “You might as well hire him. I’ll tutor him – these old bones won’t last forever.”
Thoma is fourteen when he becomes an apprentice servant in the Yashiro Commission.
Thoma thinks of his bandaged hands from cutting flowers, and looks at his calloused hands from handling the broom, and thinks it might as well be.
He thinks of his mother.
Young Lady Ayaka teaches him how to play temari. Young Lord Ayato watches them.
Thoma doesn’t know why they spend time with him, but he goes along. He’s thankful, so he smiles, and he enjoys temari with Young Lady Ayaka.
Thoma realizes there’s no other children their age in the Estate.
Thoma doesn’t question why they spend time with him when Young Lady Ayaka next comes to him, temari in hand, forcing him on an impromptu break from his work.
He just smiles.
Thoma remembers children playing in the streets of Mondstadt. He remembers their laughter, their joy, how they ran up and down the stairs right by his mother’s small flower stall where he helped out on the weekends and some afternoons.
Thoma remembers children playing in the streets of Mondstadt.
Thoma remembers watching children play in the streets of Mondstadt as he sat in his mother’s small flower stall, waiting for customers, wishing for something he couldn’t have.
Thoma remembers the time they stopped by his stall, one Windblume Festival, and chatted with him for a moment as one of them bought flowers for their parents. He remembers them asking him about Inazuma, and he remembers being unable to say much of anything.
His father never told him stories of Inazuma.
Thoma remembers asking his mother for stories from father that night, knowing he wouldn’t tell him but she might. He remembers her telling him some vague tales, and trying to memorize them so that, next time the kids stopped by his stall, he would have something to tell them.
Thoma remembers watching children play in the streets of Mondstadt, running up and down the stairs, waving at him in a second of recognition that lasted as far as they looked at him, forgotten as soon as their cheerful conversation returned to their own affairs.
They never stopped by again.
Thoma learns to use the spear. He is taught by one of the Commission’s guards, by order of Master Kamisato.
“You spend the most time with my children out of all of us,” Master Kamisato tells him, gentle. “If anything were to happen, could I trust you to protect them?”
Thoma thinks back on the coarse sand of the beach. On Young Lady Ayaka crying because she thought the young boy they found was dead. On Young Lord Ayato and his father shaking him awake and turning him over on his back while Madam Kamisato consoled her daughter.
Thoma thinks back on his father, telling him to always repay the kindness given to him.
He thinks back on his mother, telling him things happen for a reason.
Thoma thinks about Young Lady Ayaka playing temari with him, and Young Lord Ayato tagging along with a book and a witty comment.
Thoma agrees to train to be their guard.
Thoma watches the siblings spar. Or, rather, Young Lord Ayato trains his sword skills while Young Lady Ayaka gets used to swinging a wooden sword around, trying to imitate her brother.
Thoma thinks about his own practice wooden spear leaning against the training grounds of the courtyard.
He thinks about his rusted iron sword, left somewhere under his bed in Mondstadt, for the next tenant to discover. He thinks about the knights humoring the children with wooden swords, teaching them self-defense. He thinks about the children running up and down the street, waving hello at him with their free hands, the others busy carrying their practice weapons.
Thoma thinks about the rusted iron sword he found in the woods. He thinks about the evenings spent outside the walls of the city, copying the moves of the knights by memory alone.
Thoma never got to use his sword for anything. He never had friendly spars with anyone; not with the knights, not with the other kids his age.
But Thoma figures guards in Inazuma use spears, so he focuses on that instead.
Two years pass.
Thoma becomes a proper member of the Yashiro Commission. He graduates from a wooden spear to a proper practice iron spear. He cleans his half of the Estate in a quarter of the time it used to take him before. He starts being assigned some cooking shifts. He starts to learn how to brew tea.
He gets dragged into Young Lady Ayaka’s shogi lessons. While Young Lord Ayato has a match against his father on one side of the table, he sits with his Young Lady and Madam Kamisato, struggling to get through a handful of turns. At least his Young Lady is with him in his suffering, and Madam Kamisato just giggles at the disaster.
The sickly Master Kamisato eyes them from the other side of the table, content, and his Young Lord fires a mean but hilarious comment their way that has Madam Kamisato bursting out in laughter and Young Lady Ayaka throwing the shogi pieces at him.
Thoma laughs as well.
It’s the last time they laugh together.
Master Kamisato succumbs to his worsening health and dies a week later.
Madam Kamisato follows him soon after.
When Lord Ayato is busy, which is often, Thoma plays shogi with Lady Ayaka.
She doesn’t smile. She’s twelve. She’s too young for any of this. They both are.
(They all are.)
So Thoma smiles for her. For him. For the three of them.
Lady Ayaka doesn’t smile back, but she stops crying, and begins their match.
Things get worse.
Thoma learns to brew calming teas.
He gives them all to Lord Ayato.
Thoma remembers when his mother died. He remembers when she left the flower stall to him. He remembers going to church to pray for forgiveness, for when she left them, a thought appeared unbidden in his head that at least now his father wouldn’t have to work as hard to support just the two of them.
Thoma remembers sitting in the flower stall that was now entirely his’, watching the children enjoy the Windblume Festival with their parents, wishing for something he couldn’t have.
Thoma doesn’t know when it starts, or why it changes; but for some reason, the flower-selling business takes off. People start buying more flowers, more flower arrangements, and more high-quality ones, too. It’s not because of the Windblume Festival, and it’s not because of Ludi Harpastum either.
It just happens, like a shift in the people of Mondstadt, they suddenly decide to appreciate flowers more.
Thoma doesn’t know, and he doesn’t ask. He’s just happy to get more money, because that way maybe his father won’t have to work as hard anymore. Ten Mora is better than no Mora, as his mother used to say.
Little by little, he starts earning more with the shop. He doesn’t earn enough to support them both, but he earns enough to keep himself alive.
He tells this to his father one evening with a big relieved smile. He can now relax a little with his fishing trips. He can now be at home more often. He can now rest.
He doesn’t say any of this, of course, but he tries to convey it in his enthusiasm when he tells him he made the budget for the month and the money from the flower shop can now support half of them.
His father looks at him in silence for a second, his eyes looking through him, miles and miles away.
Then he smiles, his rare tired smile (not that Thoma has ever seen a different kind), and congratulates him on a work well done.
He tells him a couple of vague stories of Inazuma. He tells him a little about life on the sea. He scrounges up some of his money and buys him a sailing compass.
It’s the happiest week of Thoma’s life since his mother died.
His father gets on a boat the next month, and never comes back.
Like always, Thoma doesn’t understand at first.
He waits one week. Then two. Then three.
Then two whole months have passed, and his father is nowhere to be found.
He shoves everything aside to think like his mother once more. His father had told him about life in the sea, and had even bought him a sailing compass before leaving.
Things always happen for a reason, he tells himself.
He leaves the flower shop to his aunt.
He gets on a boat the next month, and never comes back.
The compass gets lost to the sea when the storm overturns his boat.
A couple of months after Master Kamisato’s passing, Lord Ayato finds Thoma one evening and suggests he return to Mondstadt to save himself from the troubles about to befall the Yashiro Commission.
Thoma would’ve said yes. If that had been what Lord Ayato wanted, for him to leave, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat.
But Lord Ayato asks him with a look telling him not to go. To stay.
It’s the rawest Thoma has ever seen his still-young Lord.
He stays.
(He tells himself it’s not because he’s being selfish.
He’s not sure he believes it.)
The Pyro Vision he gets in front of a shell-shocked Lord Ayato seems to agree with his choice.
The previous head housekeeper retires, sticking around for some less taxing work, and Lord Ayato seems to place Thoma in the vacant position in a matter of seconds.
Thoma wants to ask. Why him. Why now.
He doesn’t.
(The rumor mill starts.)
Thoma beats his guard instructor in an all-out sparring match.
He graduates from spear lessons. Neither of the siblings are there to see it.
It doesn’t feel like Thoma figured it should.
Thoma perfects the art of brewing calming teas.
Late into one night, Thoma finds Lady Ayaka in sleeping robes standing outside the slightly opened door of the Commissioner’s office.
Lord Ayato is inside, asleep on his desk.
Lady Ayaka asks him if he can carry her brother to his room, since she’s not strong enough to lift him. The hesitance in her eyes makes Thoma wonder how she could possibly think he’d ever say no to that.
(Or to anything either of them ask him, for that matter.)
He assures her he’ll tuck her brother in, bids her goodnight, and hauls the sleeping Commissioner as gently as he can all the way to the private wing of the Estate.
When he sets him down on the futon, luckily already in sleeping clothes, Thoma goes about tucking him in and making sure nothing is out of place in the room.
A hand catches his wrist before he can leave.
Half-asleep (he must’ve been), Lord Ayato tells him to stay.
Thoma knows better than to hope for anything. Hope is of no use to him. Hope didn’t give him friends, it didn’t keep his mother alive, and it didn’t keep his father with him.
He squeezes his lord’s hand, pries it off his wrist, and takes a tired seat by the small tea table.
(The only thing he has is loyalty. Loyalty gave him a home in strange lands. Loyalty gave him people he cares about. Loyalty keeps him fed and clothed, keeps him alive.)
In the dark of the room, he sees Lord Ayato’s eyes on him for a second. Two.
Then his lord turns around, his back to him, and shuffles into a comfortable position before falling back asleep almost instantly.
The next morning, Thoma wakes up with a start before dawn. He straightens from his slouched position by the tea table, makes sure Lord Ayato is still asleep, and leaves the room as quietly as he can.
He resigns himself to starting his day early.
The years pass.
Things stabilize.
Lady Ayaka starts smiling again. So does Lord Ayato.
Thoma stops trying to smile for the three of them.
(At least in the isolation of his room.)
A woman sets up shop in Ritou, selling liquor from Mondstadt. Sailing Breeze, or something like that.
Thoma doesn’t recognize her. She says her name is Karpillia, and he thinks he might’ve known one of her parents because her face looks familiar. He doesn’t ask.
She realizes he’s from Mondstadt as well. She doesn’t comment.
He buys a small bottle of Dandelion Wine. He’s old enough to drink it by then.
(He doesn’t.
He uses it on that day’s dinner. When his lord and his lady ask with delighted surprise what’s new in the recipe, he smiles that practiced smile of his, and tells them it’s a secret ingredient.
He makes up some excuse of having had dinner while in town, and doesn’t eat that night.)
Lord Ayato continues to be too busy to eat with them most evenings. Thoma picks up the habit of leaving notes for him with reports or information, so as to not interrupt him during his work.
He notices he’s putting way too much effort into how his calligraphy for the notes looks about two weeks into this little exchange, and sits on the small desk in his room for a solid silent minute.
He accepts the fact in heavy silence, the same way he’s accepted everything in his life, and moves on.
The rest of the Estate pick up on his habit, and soon everyone is leaving their reports and other inquiries to the Commissioner through informal letters and notes dropped by his desk.
Thoma is only relieved the whole ordeal seems to ease up his lord’s schedule a little bit, even if it’s only by a couple of hours per week. He does not allow himself to feel anything else, and instead chuckles and smiles and goes along with the joking thanks and commendations from the rest of the Estate’s staff on how useful his little idea was.
He wonders if it would be sacrilegious to go to the Grand Narukami Shrine to ask for forgiveness for having stray thoughts – unimportant in the grand scheme of things, and belonging to an outlander, no less.
Thoma was never a jealous person.
He wonders when things went wrong.
Thoma starts spending more time outside the Estate, gathering information and establishing useful connections with the townsfolk.
He starts spending more time with the strays.
It’s taxing. Not the time spent with the strays, but the time spent with the townsfolk. Thoma figures it’s going to take a long time for people to accept him as anything other than an outlander and stop being double-faced with him. He recognizes he needs to integrate himself into society for that to happen, but-
It doesn’t make it any easier.
Thoma might not be alone in Inazuma, but he is lonely. He’s one of the few outlanders in Narukami Island, let alone in all of Inazuma. There’s more outlanders in Ritou, but it’s too far to justify going down there every day, and it’s not-
They are outlanders, but they’re not all from Mondstadt. They’re not all in his exact same situation.
When it comes to that, Thoma is wholly on his own.
So he spends his free time with the strays.
Lady Ayaka grants him access to the Komore Teahouse, and Thoma meets Taroumaru.
A retired ninken, left to run the teahouse after his old master passed away.
Thoma spends his free time with him, as well. He knows he cannot take Taroumaru in, the same way he cannot take all the strays from Hanamizaka in. He knows Taroumaru has a job, and he knows ninken only serve one master throughout their lives.
It doesn’t stop Thoma from wishing for something he cannot have.
Thoma remembers having wanted to have a tortoise as a kid. He remembers seeing some of the children in Mondstadt carrying their pet tortoises around, and wishing he, too, could have a pet of some sort.
He had been very young back then, so he had asked his mother about it. She had smiled sadly at him, and told him tortoises were very expensive.
So Thoma had accepted it in a heavy silence, and gone back to his usual routine.
It’s time for the Windblume Festival.
The Sailing Breeze doesn’t have Applebloom Cider, so Thoma ends up buying a small bottle of Dandelion Wine again. Fresh flowers from Mondstadt don’t make it all the way to Inazuma, so it’s impossible to find most of them fresh at the ports. The only ones that survive are small lamp grass buds, coated in resin, used as fairy lights.
Thoma buys them anyway.
He gets his hands on fresh Inazuman flowers and makes a Windblume garland arrangement in his room, using the materials he has, adding the lamp grass buds.
It’s as perfect as the last time he made one, but it doesn’t look like it’s from Mondstadt. He guesses the lights and the lack of Mondstadt flowers are at fault here.
He picks it apart, disassembles it, and gives the flowers to Lady Ayaka for her to use in Ikebana.
He keeps the lamp grass buds. He drinks the Dandelion Wine, for the first time in his life.
He hates it. He finishes the bottle.
He doesn’t leave his room that day.
(The next day, his head hurts, and it’s not difficult at all to fake having been down with a fever the day prior. He gets condolences from the staff, and an offer to take some of his workload away, which he refuses.
Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato express having been worried about not seeing him past the afternoon, and Thoma wonders once more if he would be welcomed at the Grand Narukami Shrine, if confessing sins is even a thing people do there.)
Lord Ayato asks Thoma to help him sort some files one day. Thoma agrees, because of course he does.
They’re marriage candidates.
Thoma sits with Lord Ayato for an entire afternoon, sorting through the profiles of the marriage candidates the heads of the other clans from the Yashiro Commission have compiled for his lord to consider.
Thoma sits with Lord Ayato for an entire afternoon, listing off profiles, and listening to his lord make detailed lists for each and every one of them on why they’re not a good choice and why he’s turning them down – lists that he’s going to send back along with the profiles and ‘his most sincere apologies’.
Thoma sits with Lord Ayato, listening to all the reasons why his lord refuses to marry any of these people, and keeps a practiced neutral look he’s only ever had to use out in town when he tries to pretend he’s not hearing the gossip and rumors about him.
“His connections do not bring nearly enough value to the Commission,” and neither do Thoma’s, who has no connections in the upper echelons of Inazuman society to speak of.
“She does not have the skills required to be the wife of a Commissioner,” and neither does Thoma, who only cooks, cleans, and feeds stray dogs and cats. That might be enough for the wife of a common man, but the one of the Commissioner?
“The benefits they all provide are nowhere near significant enough to consider directly linking the Kamisato Clan to her family. It would jeopardize the Commission,” and Thoma has no family to speak of.
Thoma had never deluded himself into thinking he ever had a chance with his lord. That is not the situation here. He had only acknowledged his conundrum with a heavy sigh and moved on, knowing that if there was one thing he couldn’t control, it was his emotions.
But maybe, in the deepest recesses of his mind, he had entertained the idea like a fairy tale. A what if. A fantasy. Something nice to think about in an attempt to fall asleep on difficult nights.
Thoma knows exactly why it hurts to sit there for those six hours, and it is a true testament to his skills in keeping a straight face.
Thoma buys another small bottle of Dandelion Wine the next day, and sequesters himself in his room once more.
The other clan heads take the lists with lowered heads and promise to not bring up marriage again.
Thoma spends the afternoon in the Grand Narukami Shrine, under the excuse of going to see one of the shrine maidens about his ‘ailment’.
He comes back ‘miraculously cured’.
The first time Thoma gets into a real fight, it is one random night, when he catches someone vaulting over the Estate’s walls.
Confused, he takes advantage of the fact he hasn’t been noticed yet to tail the intruder. Better find out what they’re here for if he can.
The intruder clearly has the guards’ patrol route memorized, because they dodge them all quite well, and Thoma has to follow along also like he’s breaking and entering so as to not raise suspicion and alert the intruder of the fact they’ve been discovered.
Sooner rather than later, Thoma catches them just as they’re about to enter his lord’s chambers, and that’s when he decides to intervene. He materializes his spear and bashes the intruder across the back with it, a swift and strong hit, and one that sends them tumbling down the hallway.
The fight is short-lived, and to be frank, Thoma would hesitate to call it a fight at all.
He parries a couple of strikes, and then delivers a heavy blow to the side of their head, which knocks them unconscious for good.
It’s at that moment that other members of the Commission arrive at the scene, and together they tie up the intruder and bring it to the empty storage room.
Lord Ayato arrives five minutes after that. Thoma is still holding his spear, just in case, and explains the situation in as much detail as he can provide (which isn’t much).
Lord Ayato’s takeaway is that this was a failed assassination attempt. The intruder went straight to his room, stopped at nothing on the way, and had memorized the patrol routes to pull this off. The good thing is, it would seem that whoever sent them is under the impression that he goes to bed at a respectable hour, and given Thoma stopped them before they could even enter the room, they never even got to find out.
The staff stays tense throughout the night.
Lord Ayato stops him before he goes to bed to commend him in his handling of the situation.
He says something or other about being thankful he’s still here with them, and Thoma doesn’t know how to tell him that he didn’t even realize it was an assassination attempt at first. Or at all.
He doesn’t sleep that night.
His sleep schedule moves back a couple of hours.
Thoma cannot stop himself from wandering the halls of the Estate at night, where he knows the guards don’t go, looking at the walls separating them from the outside.
The Sakoku Decree comes into effect. Thoma has a passing thought of being unable to go visit Mondstadt now.
(Even though he had never planned on doing so before, and wasn’t planning on doing so anytime in the near future.)
The Kamisato siblings are busy with sorting their newfound problems; figuring out how they are going to procure some of their materials, how the decree is going to affect their ceremonies, and all things under the purview of the Yashiro Commission.
Thoma goes to Ritou.
Sailing Breeze doesn’t have Dandelion Wine.
Thoma starts brewing calming teas again.
When word of the Vision Hunt Decree reaches the Estate along with the news of Kaedehara Kazuha’s friend’s sentence of divine punishment, Lady Ayaka straight-up just has a full-on panic attack.
She stays in Thoma’s arms for the next couple of hours, and Lord Ayato arrives halfway through with a somber look and tight fists.
Thoma fears he might join in the hug for a second. He’s not sure he could keep himself together if he did.
(He doesn’t.
Thoma is thankful then, but later that night, alone in his room; he’s not.
Thoma would’ve killed for a hug.
Thoma would’ve killed for a hug ever since his mother died.)
Thoma goes on an express mission to bring Yoimiya to the Estate, because otherwise Lady Ayaka is just going to dig herself into a hole and maybe start hyperventilating again.
Yoimiya manages to calm Lady Ayaka down, much to the relief of Lord Ayato, and she’s invited to stay the night.
Lady Ayaka almost doesn’t let her leave the next morning.
With partial immunity to the Vision Hunt Decree by virtue of being part of the Yashiro Commission, Thoma continues his work outside the Estate.
It’s worse than it was before.
Because now, every so often, he would hear the whispers of someone having their vision confiscated. He would hear of how some were even killed in the process, and how some were left with lasting consequences.
Only a few lucky ones were able to walk it off.
He reports this all back to the Kamisato siblings.
He continues spending time with the strays, now more than ever.
Thoma doesn’t know why he expected his immunity to the decree to last forever, but he was caught off-guard nonetheless when a group of soldiers from the Tenryou Commission all but kidnapped him off the road to Inazuma City form the Estate when he was on his way to meet up with Lady Ayaka and the Traveler in the teahouse.
Thoma doesn’t know how he keeps a straight face as he’s tied up and placed on a platform in front of the statue of the Omnipresent God. He doesn’t know how he manages to look up and stare at the Almighty Shogun in the face.
All Thoma knows is that it hurts. The bindings on his wrists are too tight, and the static in the air nips at his face as he tries to keep a calm front up. He can hear the people present whispering, a cacophony of noises splitting his head in half.
It’s hardly ten in the morning and he’s already so tired. Thoma wants to sleep and never wake up.
(He hasn’t felt this much fear since the storm overturned his boat.)
Alone in the Komore Teahouse, after the Traveler has left, Thoma has nobody but Taroumaru to keep him company. He sits by the counter, slouched over the wood, and thinks.
And thinks.
Because if he doesn’t, he has no choice but to relive what happened earlier in the day, and he’s not sure he has the mental capacity for that at the moment.
(Or ever.)
Thoma remembers owning a little Medaka fish.
After overhearing him wanting a tortoise from his mother, his father caught him a little fish from the lake and brought it back to their house in a glass tank.
Thoma has no idea how that fish survived for as long as it did.
Nobody kept fish pets in Mondstadt, so the only available fish food had to be imported from Fontaine, which made it far too expensive to justify for his family. Thoma fought tooth and nail to keep the fish alive, going out to the lake every other day and bringing algae and kelp and bits and pieces of things he found floating in the water. He didn’t know the first thing about fish upkeep, and neither did his parents.
Somehow, the fish survived for a while. Several years, in fact. Thoma would feed it scraps of bread and snapdragon petals and puffs of sweet flowers and other things he could think of. The fish didn’t look the healthiest, but it was doing alright.
To be fair, the fish never did die in Thoma’s house.
He managed to keep the fish alive for so long, he started to feel bad. Surely the fish couldn’t be happy alone in that tank, right? It wasn’t eating the things it should be eating, and Thoma had no idea how to take care of it.
In the end, he was only keeping it there because he was selfish. Because he felt lonely. Because taking care of the fish (or attempting to) gave him something to do that wasn’t thinking about his lack of friends, and later on, lack of mother.
Thoma released the fish back into the lake one afternoon.
His father never noticed the fish had left at all, since Thoma had kept the tank in his room, and his mother had already died by the time he talked himself into releasing it.
Thoma cried quietly on the shore of the lake, sitting there until the sun set. He convinced himself it was for the best, that it was better for the fish to be free, and that it made no sense for it to suffer just so Thoma wouldn’t be lonely.
So he went back home, and hugged himself to sleep.
(He cried again the next day when he saw the tank sitting empty on his desk.)
Thoma almost cries that night in the teahouse when Taroumaru lets him hug him to sleep.
Thoma wakes up in the middle of the night with a cold shiver, and realizes it’s because Taroumaru had left him at some point to go to his own bed.
(He does not feel bitter about that, or abandoned, or anything of the like.)
Lord Ayato comes to visit him sometime after midnight.
Thoma becomes unable to act, for some reason. Alone in the teahouse with nobody else but his lord, his body betrays him. He trembles. He can’t put up his good smile. He breaks down.
He cries.
His lord holds him in his arms, and Thoma wants to ask him why.
But he doesn’t, because he’s selfish, and he clings to the hug for dear life as he continues to wish for something he cannot have.
Lord Ayato visits him a couple extra times, and plays shogi with him.
Thoma doesn’t question him.
Things stabilize again.
The Vision Hunt Decree is abolished. The Sakoku Decree follows not soon after.
Things go back to normal.
So the rumor mill starts again.
Thoma picks up the horrible habit of practicing his sword techniques in the dead of night, by the Estate’s walls, where the guards’ patrol route has holes. He sneaks out a practice sword from the training grounds and stays up for half an hour, going over what he remembers, being annoyed at the difference in feeling between Inazuman swords and Mondstadt swords.
He realizes with much disappointment that he’s forgotten half the moves he used to know.
He practices anyway.
Lady Hiiragi and Kujou Kamaji are to be wed. As they play shogi, his lord mentions how the timing is terrible.
Thoma doesn’t comment on the topic, but it doesn’t stop him from wishing for something he cannot have.
The wedding between the Kanjou Commission and the Tenryou Commission gets canceled (postponed?).
Somehow, the clan heads from the other families of the Yashiro Commission think it’s a good idea to ask his lord about his marriage again.
Thoma has to brew more calming teas.
For whatever reason, it’s Lady Ayaka the one who comes up with the horrid plan this time around, a conversation he didn’t mean to overhear between the siblings.
Thoma wants to be angry at her. He wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to thank her.
He goes to the Grand Narukami Shrine instead.
He breaks the practice sword that night.
He stashes it back in its rack and hopes nobody notices.
Lady Ayaka’s brilliant plan that is absolutely not going to tear Thoma in two is-
“Would it not be easier if you just married Thoma, brother? As in, a fake-pretend marriage.”
Thoma thinks he’s delirious when he overhears his lord give that pensive hum of his that means he’s considering it.
His fears are confirmed when, the next morning, when Thoma has stopped feeling guilty about the guard who found the broken sword and thought it was his own fault, his lord and his lady call him in for a serious meeting.
The first time Thoma outright questions his lord’s judgment is during that meeting. But, somehow, the siblings seem more worried about whether he would be alright with the arrangement, and not about how poorly it would reflect on the Commissioner. Something or other about it tying Thoma down and preventing him from living a normal life without having to skirt around some things.
(Thoma cannot tell them he hasn’t lived a normal life since- ever.
Hope doesn’t keep him alive – loyalty does. And what is the biggest proof of one’s loyalty towards another person if not marriage, however fake it might be?)
Thoma doesn’t say that, and instead insists on knowing how this could possibly be a good idea to begin with.
“I assure you, this is actually quite the ideal plan,” Lord Ayato simply says.
Thoma agrees to play the part.
(Because of course he does.)
That afternoon, when he’s stewing in his shame and praying for forgiveness for his stray, selfish thoughts in the Grand Narukami Shrine, he catches sight of Guuji Yae.
She’s looking at him.
He vacates the premises as soon as he can without making it suspicious.
With the plan set in motion, the first order of business is confronting the other clan heads about it.
Lord Ayato thinks it’s a good idea for Thoma to be present, so he sits there for the three hours the meeting lasts, listening to his lord list off the reasons why he’s going to marry the housekeeper and not the other, far better, far more fitting, candidates.
“This is ludicrous!”
“Is it really?”
“With all due respect, Commissioner, why the housek- …Mister Thoma?”
“Why, he meets all the requirements, does he not?”
“My Lord, he has no useful connections for the Yashiro Commission!”
“Oh? I’d argue he has the most usefuls connections out of all the candidates you proposed.”
“What-?”
“Do think about it, please. What use do I have for connections within the upper echelons of Inazuman society? I already have them all. Moreover, who is the Yashiro Commission meant to serve in the first place? Certainly not us few nobles.”
“The people of Inazuma…?”
“Correct. Do you not think it strange that we have virtually no connections to the people, despite arguably being the commission who works the closest with them?”
“That's… But would it not be advantageous for the Kamisato Clan to be more connected to the other clans of the Yashiro Commission?”
“Dear me, why would you think that? Can the Kamisato Clan not stand on its own two feet? Surely you would not want to have one of the other clans perpetually serve as a foothold for the Kamisato clan to rise higher, now would you? Moreover, imagine the split that such an alliance would create. What would happen if we were to choose one of the clans? What would become of the other ones? Are they less important because they’re not affiliated with the leading clan?”
“That’s- a valid concern, but-”
“Marrying Thoma would not only provide the most useful connections, but it would also serve to keep all the other clans on the same level. I cannot see where the fault in this plan lies.”
“I… suppose that is true. But- My Lord, we urge you to consider the possible repercussions of this. We might see your reasoning behind it and come to an agreement, but what about the people? Will this not reflect poorly on the Kamisato Clan? Imagine the rumors this could cause!”
“The rumor mill will work regardless of what we do.”
“Yes, but- I was referring to… other types of rumors. The more… damning ones, My Lord.”
“Get to the point.”
“Mister Thoma has thus far been nothing more than the housekeeper. If he were to suddenly marry you, My Lord, would it not be possible for the people to circulate the rumor that he- well, slept his way to the top? Forgive the crassness, but-”
“No, you are correct.”
“Then-”
“However, you doubt the extent of my reach. This would be relatively easy to solve, actually.”
“Eh- would it?”
Lord Ayato smiles then.
“Of course it would.”
Thoma goes to the Grand Narukami Shrine again. He doesn’t care if Guuji Yae is staring at him from behind the banisters, or if some of her maids are also shooting him looks and speaking with her, most likely about him. Thoma knows the tone people take when they speak about him behind his back.
He sits there, near the cliff’s edge, and tries not to have a heart attack.
Thoma doesn’t hope. He doesn’t.
He breaks another practice sword that night.
He feels worse.
Thoma doesn’t go out to town for the following couple of weeks. He does a spring cleaning of the Estate, and helps everyone else prepare for the Irodori Festival.
The festival goes well. He hears the paintings of the Five Kasen were wonderful, that the people enjoyed their time, that the statues of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder sold out within the first hour, and that the books sold better than expected. He hears from Arataki Itto, as he carries him to the medics, that the best sellers were ‘A Legend of Sword’, ‘Anything you want, Your Highness’, and ‘Pretty Please, Lady Guuji?’
Thoma stays far away from the visitors from Mondstadt.
The plan is finalized.
On paper, Thoma is now officially married to Lord Ayato.
He doesn’t leave the Estate again for the following week.
Nothing changes within the Estate, and Thoma is most certainly thankful for it, with no complicated feelings in the middle.
All is fine until he has no choice but to resume his duties of doing his rounds in the city, keeping up his connections, and helping the people.
Thoma doesn’t know when the rumor mill shifted gears.
People continue talking about him as he goes about his day, but it’s not the gossip he’d grown used to. He finds himself confused, walking down the street, bits and pieces of conversations flowing into his ears.
“Archons, now I feel really bad…”
“You know how he’s an outlander as well? It makes sense, I’m telling you!”
“I heard he started serving the Kamisato Clan young, too.”
“Childhood friends, much? It checks out.”
“And the Shirasagi Himegimi would be the princess!”
“I’ve heard people have been seeing him going to the Grand Narukami Shrine and sitting in deep concentration for hours on end. Do you think he was praying for the Almighty Narukami to allow his love?”
“How long do you think they were holding off the marriage for? You know what happened with Lady Chisato and Lord Kujou…”
“Ooh- Do you think they also dance together? Gosh, that’d be so romantic!”
“There’s no way they weren’t the inspiration for it. Someone with inside information must’ve been the one behind it, to know they were planning to get married for so long. Either that, or the ship became true.”
Thoma has no idea what’s gotten into everyone’s heads.
He’s met by Lord Ayato on the bridge halfway down the main street, in one of his rare outings. He smiles like he’s seeing the sun itself, and Thoma has to remind himself that it’s all for the facade.
(It doesn’t make it hurt any less.)
But of course, he smiles back, the brightest one he has.
“Shall we grab something to eat?” Lord Ayato asks. “I’ve been craving some Sakura Tempura.”
“Sure. Anything you want, My Lord,” Thoma smiles, easy.
Behind them, a group of girls squeal in giddy excitement and duck behind a house.
His lord just seems to find the whole thing amusing, and Thoma is fairly certain he’s going mad.
“Now, now; you don’t have to keep calling me that in public anymore,” his lord chuckles. Thoma wants to strangle him. Or himself. Either will do.
“Right,” he manages out. Swallows. He keeps his sunny smile up. “Let’s go, then… dear.”
Lord Ayato locks his arm with his’. “Lead the way, honey.”
“You’re insufferable,” escapes Thoma in a whisper before he can stop himself.
His lord just laughs.
Thoma goes to the Grand Narukami Shrine later that day.
In his usual spot by the cliff there is a book. He picks it up, thinking someone forgot it, but finds a slip of paper that indicates Lady Guuji left this for him, for whatever reason.
He turns the book over and reads the title: ‘Anything you want, Your Highness.’
He sits down, vaguely recalling this as one of the best-sellers Arataki Itto told him about, and begins to read it.
Any distraction is welcomed.
Not any distraction is welcomed.
‘Anything you want, Your Highness’ is Yae Publishing House’s newest hit, revealed at the Irodori Festival,
-and it is a part of Lord Ayato’s plan.
A delirious part of Thoma realizes this must’ve been what his lord meant when he told the other clan heads that fixing the rumor mill would be ‘easy to solve, actually’.
‘Anything you want, Your Highness’ is about the romance of a lowly servant and his prince. A story about two star-crossed lovers who have to fight society for their love to be accepted.
It’s about a boy from a distant land who arrives alone to a foreign kingdom and begins serving the royal family, and how the oldest prince falls in love with him.
Thoma would have to be blind not to put the pieces together.
This novel was meant to make the people fall in love with the idea of a master-servant love-beats-all-odds story so that they would welcome his lord’s marriage to him with open arms.
And damn it, it worked.
(Thoma supposes this is why it took so long for the marriage to be officialized.)
And now everyone in Inazuma thinks he and his lord were the inspiration for the novel.
Which-
They wouldn’t be wrong. To an extent.
Thoma goes to Ritou. The Sailing Breeze doesn’t have Dandelion Wine. Apparently, it’s been selling out since the Sakoku Decree was lifted.
Karpillia asks him if he wants to put down an order, so that she can spare him a bottle or two when the next shipment arrives.
Thoma turns down her offer.
He finds someone selling authentic gliders from Mondstadt.
(He knows the difference. He used to have one when he was younger. It was his favorite, and only, toy – if it could be called that.)
He buys one.
It’s time for the Windblume Festival again.
Flowers from Mondstadt still don’t make it to Inazuma.
The weeks pass.
The people of Inazuma start including him in their more mundane conversations like he’s another housewife: asking him about the Kamisato siblings, how are they faring, etc etc.
Thoma makes more stops by the Komore Teahouse, and hides in Taroumaru’s back room.
Lord Ayato takes to going out to town significantly more often than he did before, which means Thoma tags along, which means Thoma grows used to his lord’s hand resting on the small of his back, or his arm linked to his, or being looked at like he’s the brightest thing in his life.
It doesn’t make any of it easier, and in fact,
Things get worse.
Lord Ayato finds him with one of the pilfered practice swords, standing in the secluded corner of the courtyard, staring up at the moon.
Thoma cannot lie to him.
They spar twice every week.
Nine times out of ten, Thoma ends up with the edge of his lord’s sword against his neck, and his heavy but victorious breathing brushing his lips.
Thoma starts brewing calming teas for himself.
The clan heads arrive unannounced one morning to apologize to his lord for sending marriage candidates all those years ago.
“Had we known you were in love with Master Thoma, we would’ve thought things through better,” he overhears one of them says.
Thoma almost drops the bucket he’s carrying.
His lord just chuckles good-naturedly, and moves on with the topic.
(Thoma convinces himself the other clan heads have read the novel as well.)
Thoma feels like he’s constantly having a cardiac arrest everytime he looks at his lord, the words of that one clan head bouncing in his head without his permission.
The Sailing Breeze doesn’t have Dandelion Wine, and Karpillia chides him for not having put down an order the last time he was there.
Knowing people know when he goes to the Grand Narukami Shrine, Thoma sequesters himself in his room instead.
Things continue to get worse.
The act his lord plays out with him in his outings makes it into the Estate. His lord takes hold of his hand sometimes when he talks to him, he pats his head, he brushes stray locks out of his face, he straightens his hairband, he leads him by the small of his back, he smiles all the time.
All Thoma can do is smile as sunny as ever in return, chide him when he messes with his hair, and otherwise not comment on any of the casual touches lest he rouses suspicion amongst the few guards who aren’t in the know.
Act like that’s how things are supposed to be.
He doesn’t understand. It makes no sense for his lord to act like that in the Estate. Sure, there are some guards who aren’t aware their marriage is a sham, but they don’t see them like ninety percent of the time. It’s why they can still sleep in separate rooms.
So it makes no sense. There is only one explanation, and Thoma-
Thoma doesn’t want to hope.
It’s only going to hurt more.
Thoma remembers the last time he hoped for anything.
He had just arrived in Inazuma, and Master Kamisato had lent him a small room near the servants’ quarters for him to recover in.
The first days of his stay, all Thoma did was go out to town, asking for his father.
He clung on to hope, day after day, wishing for something he’d never find.
He clung on to hope, searching Hanamizaka, Ritou, Tenryou. He asked the guards. He asked the people of the Yashiro Commission as well, when Madam Kamisato questioned him, worried, about what he was looking for.
He clung on to hope so much,
it snapped.
Thoma thought he knew better by now.
Thoma resolves it must be some plan of his lord’s that he’s not privy to. That’s what it must be.
(It doesn’t make it any easier to follow along.)
Thoma decides to try out his glider one night.
He sneaks out of the Estate by using his spear to vault over the wall by his usual corner, the one in the hole of the guards’ patrol route. On the way down outside, the wings splay out soundlessly, bringing him safely to the ground.
(He doesn’t notice the fact someone saw him vault out past the walls and disappear down the other side.)
He walks to the edge of the cliff behind the Estate and stands there for a while, trying to let the strong winds empty his head.
When he thinks he’s been standing there for long enough, he looks down to the drop, and steps forward.
Someone screams his name behind him, footsteps rushing in his direction.
Thoma trips. He tumbles. He manages to pivot on the one boot he still has on solid ground, turning to look behind him before falling.
It’s his lord.
Thoma falls, and his lord jumps right after him.
Lord Ayato yanks him by his jacket flapping on the wind, and Thoma snaps out of his instant of shock.
“My Lord!” he calls, disgruntled, choking back a yelp when a pair of strong arms wrap around him in a vice grip. One of the arms is around his shoulders, and Thoma struggles to shuffle out of it. He needs that space free for the glider to deploy! “My Lord, I have a gl-!”
“Silence!” his lord orders, squeezing him, raising his voice over the howl of the wind around them as they fall. He sounds desperate, terrified, and angry. Thoma feels his soul leave his body, his breathing halting. He struggles harder. “I should be able to break our fall with Hydro!”
“My Lo-!”
“Thoma, stop movi-!”
“I HAVE A WIND GLIDER!” Thoma cries out, interrupting him. His lord goes shock-still, and Thoma takes the chance to shuffle upwards in his hold so his arm around his shoulders falls down to the middle of his back.
As soon as he’s free, he deploys the glider. The wings flag out, near soundless, and he feels a sharp yank on his back from the sudden break of speed.
Somehow, he manages to hold on to his lord, arms wrapped haphazardly around his upper back under his arms. Lord Ayato clings to him in turn, his cheek pressed against Thoma’s solar plexus as he looks down at where they’re going.
Thoma maneuvers them down. They’re descending much faster than what he’s used to, but it’s probably due to the fact they’re two people using only one glider.
When they’re close enough to the sand of the beach below, Thoma loosens his hold of his lord just enough to drop him down as he glides past, since they’re going so fast. His lord goes without complaint, and he’s set down on his feet with only a slight tumble.
Thoma glides forward for a bit before pulling back the glider and landing as best he can.
Before he can even fully gather his bearings and stand straight, his lord tackles him, catching him between his arms, hiding his face in the crook of his neck and squeezing him like he’s going to disappear if he doesn’t.
“What were you thinking?! ” Lord Ayato demands, holding him tighter.
“I was going to go for a glide!” Thoma explains, confused. It clicks a second too late. He’s pretty sure he’s going into cardiac arrest. “My Lord! What did you think I was going to do?! ” he accuses, distraught. “My Lo-!”
Lord Ayato drops to his knees with a sound that can’t be anything other than a choked sob, but Thoma’s ears refuse to register it as such. Thoma goes down with him from how much he’s being squeezed.
His lord is trembling.
Thoma is trembling as well.
“My Lord-” he manages out, soldiering through his closed throat that feels like he can’t breathe. He feels his lips wobble. “My Lord, I would never- I would not abandon you and My Lady like that-!”
“Things have changed, Thoma!” Lord Ayato points out, his voice wrecked. Thoma wants to cry just from the sound of it.
“ How?! ” he demands.
“We’re married now!” Lord Ayato pulls back, grabbing him by the arms.
His lord’s eyes are teary and he looks terrified.
The mention of their fake marriage sends Thoma’s heart up his throat, and the sight of such an expression on his lord’s face makes him choke on it.
“Why are you crying?!” Lord Ayato asks, desperate, a shouted whisper.
“Why are you crying?!” Thoma fires back, trying to get out his hold to turn his face away so he won’t see him. The tears burn down his cheeks.
“Thoma, I thought I was going to lose you!” his lord raises his voice, shaking him by the arms.
A horrid sob tears through Thoma’s throat, and he shakes his head no, hiding his face with his hands while trying to wipe his tears away.
“Thoma, I-” his lord starts, but his voice breaks halfway through. Thoma feels himself getting pulled into his arms, and can’t find it in himself to resist. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I’m not angry at you, I swear. I just- I thought- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I-”
“No! D-Don’t apologize, My Lord,” Thoma cries, shaking his head no against the firm chest he’s being pressed into, his voice just as wrecked as his lord’s. “I just- I don’t- I don’t understand how the marriage would- That it would- That I’d-”
“Lately, you don’t- Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes,” his lord mumbles, quiet, holding him tighter. The action makes Thoma want to straight-up bawl. “I know the marriage isn’t- I know it isn’t something you really wanted, but- Is it really so horrible, being my husband? What am I doing wrong? If you want me to refrain from touching you, I will. I will- Just- Please, tell me- You’re already doing so much for us- for me- The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable. Have I been crossing some line? Have I-?”
“What?” he pushes back just enough to look at him, the pain in his chest giving him a headache. “My Lord, you have done nothing wrong.”
His lord huffs, but it sounds weak. He looks away. “Thoma, I know how you are.”
“Then you should know I mean it!” Thoma insists, pleads.
“Then why do you look so miserable?! ” his lord asks, looking back at him.
There’s silence for a beat.
Thoma hates that fresh tears fall down his eyes.
(When did he realize? When did he notice?
When did Thoma's act fall apart? Or had it just never worked on his lord to begin with?)
“I just-” he warbles, looking down at a random point on his lord’s chest. “I don’t- It’s not- It’s not something My Lord should worry about, it’s-”
“But I do worry, Thoma; I worry all the time,” his lord insists. “Am I supposed not to, when you’re so important to me?”
Thoma recoils. “Please don’t say things like that.”
“Why?” Lord Ayato looks heartbroken. Thoma hates it. Hates this.
“I’m- I-” he babbles. He can’t- “I can’t say it-”
“ Why? ” his lord pleads. “Thoma, please; all I want is to see you smile like you used to-”
Thoma laughs. It’s wet. It’s pathetic.
He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled like he used to. He’s not sure what smile even was that. When it was born. When it died.
If it died at all. And if it didn’t, where it has gone.
“I love you,” he sobs, hides his face in his hands, tries to keep the tears from falling. “I love you, Ayato. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not something I should burden you with, and I tried- I tried to keep it to myself but it’s so- it’s so- it hurts. I’m sorry, I- I know it’s not- I just- I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I can’t help it. I tried so hard to keep myself from getting ideas, from deluding myself into thinking I could- That you’d- But every time you smile at me or look at me like that and call me honey and hold my hand I just- I can’t- I’m so sorry-”
“Thoma,” his lord’s voice shuts up his rambling. “Thoma, look at me.”
Thoma wipes his tears as best he can and looks up like a man walking to his execution.
His lord is crying again. He looks like he’s in disbelief.
“Do you mean it?” he asks, small. “Do you really love me?”
Thoma swallows past a hiccup. “I do. I’m sor-”
His lord tackles him in a hug, pressing him as close as he can.
Thoma’s heart is lodged in his throat again.
“Thoma, I love you as well,” his lord breathes out. Thoma stills. “I love you so much. Archons, you have no idea-”
“What?” Thoma blurts out before he can stop himself. “You- Wh-”
“I’ve loved you for so long, ” his lord continues, uncaring of the fact he just got interrupted. He holds him tighter. “And you thought I didn’t? Oh, I feel like such a fool. I did not say anything out of a fear that you’d be pressured into saying something you wouldn’t want, but to think that you- that you actually- Oh, Thoma, my dear Thoma-”
“That’s- My Lord, are you-?”
“ Don’t ask me if I’m sure, Thoma,” his lord pulls back to fix him down with an intense look. “For the longest time it is the single thing I’ve been most sure of.”
Thoma doesn’t know what to say.
He wants to cry again. He wants to laugh.
He kisses Ayato instead.
Ayato kisses back immediately with a pleased hum that sends something down Thoma’s spine.
Laying on the sand, Thoma on his back and Ayato over him, they kiss for the next hour.
They both wake up with a terrible cold the next day.
Lady Ayaka locks them both in Ayato’s room, tucked under a thousand blankets, and forbids them from leaving until they’re better.
(Later into the evening, she checks back on them only to find them asleep, clinging to each other like their lives depend on it.
Still buried in an absurd amount of blankets.
Ayaka smiles, knowing, and closes the door behind her.)
Thoma moves into Ayato’s room the next day. Aside from his clothes, the only substantial things he brings are a couple of potted plants,
And his string of lamp grass buds.
Ayato examines them with fascination, and hangs it up on one of the walls.
They shine at night and bathe the room in a pleasant teal glow.
Thoma doesn’t feel nearly as bad looking at them now.
Nobody in Inazuma notices the change.
The only exception is Arataki Itto, who actually only then finds out they are married (and thinks that only then they got married, which isn’t entirely untrue).
Thoma doesn’t know if he should laugh at him or feel pity, and Ayato just finds the entire situation hilarious.
Thoma puts down an order for Dandelion Wine from Karpillia, and uses it on the siblings’ dinner.
When they ask, this time he does tell them what it is.
He tastes the dish as well.
It’s not nearly as bad in food, he has to admit.
(But he’ll probably make a separate portion for himself in the future, without the wine.)
Sometimes, Thoma wakes up surprised to find Ayato is on the bed next to him.
But it does get easier to believe every time.
The months pass.
Thoma still gets embarrassed when Ayato kisses him out of nowhere in the Estate, but at this point that might just be his natural reaction to it.
Not to mention, Ayato seems to do it expecting that reaction.
It doesn’t make it any less mortifying.
(Despite himself, Thoma loves it.)
Thoma stops going to the Grand Narukami Shrine.
Lady Guuji sends him a letter saying she and the shrine maidens miss him. Ayato thinks it’s funny and tells him not to reply.
Two weeks later, another letter from the shrine arrives, telling Thoma to tell his husband to learn to share.
Ayato laughs at it. Thoma is only mildly worried Lady Guuji will show up at their doorstep.
(She doesn’t.)
A year passes.
The people of Inazuma congratulate them on their anniversary several months before their actual anniversary, but that’s fine. Ayaka says they get to have two celebrations.
Thoma says that might be a bit much. Ayato says he does deserve two.
The siblings continue to be insufferable, the both of them.
But Thoma does deserve two.
Two Kamisato siblings to look after.
(And maybe two anniversaries as well, but he’d argue Ayato deserves them more. Ayato would never let him win the argument that’d ensue from such a claim, however, so he keeps it to himself and smiles, fond despite his best attempts.)
Things always happen for a reason, his mother used to say.
Thinking back on it, Thoma would like to think it’s true.
It begins with Thoma, twenty-seven, walking along the shores of Narukami Island.
It begins with the Kamisato siblings and their retainer (and, to one of them, his husband), twenty-eight and twenty-three, taking a stroll by the beach.
It begins with Kamisato Ayaka suggesting they go to Mondstadt for the Windblume Festival that year.
“You know, as your second anniversary celebration,” she adds. Ayato agrees.
Thoma had almost believed they had been joking about that.
Despite himself, he smiles.