"Did you say something?" he murmured.
You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, hoping it would clear your head. Instead, you simply got an intoxicating whiff of his scent, which was an odd combination of exotic lilies and soap. 
"You seem to be enjoying the sun," you said.
He smiled, turning to face you with a clear-eyed gaze. "I know that's not what you said, but yes, I am. It's been so dreadfully rainy of late."
"I thought that as a person with a Hydro Vision, you could hardly be bothered by anything wet."
His smile turned into something like a smirk. "No, nothing of that sort bothers me at all."
The sentence replayed in your head and your jaw tightened, scandalized.
"If you want," he rested his elbow on the ebony railing and place his chin on his knuckles. He tilted his head to the side, "I would be more than happy to indulge you."
You retracted away from him, harshly flipping open your fan. "And to think I was starting to believe you were capable of not behaving like a repugnant pig."
"You paint an unfaithful portrait, as here you are, squawking like a chicken whose feathers just got ruffled," he said arrogantly. "I must admit — you're fine just the way you are with that big mouth."
"I daresay it matches quite well with your big head."
"So you admit that you've got a big mouth," he said, pleased. 
When he saw the expression on your face — like you'd just swallowed a fat clump of raw slime condensate — he began to laugh again. Ayato was so ridiculous that you couldn't even find a reason to be angry. You made the asking voice in your head shut up. It was just how it was. It's Ayato, for archons' sake.
Resentment was slow, gradual until it became difficult to contain and keep under wraps. It started when you got older, and you saw each other less. You'd see him in the city, he'd only offer you small talk. Ayato hated small talk. You'd ask to see him in the house, and only servants could receive you. You hadn't yearned to see him until he was slowly slipping away. And then that day came.
The rain had poured. You had been soaked to the bone. Ayato's hair matted, bangs falling into his eyes, head down like he was ashamed of speaking to you. He didn't need to speak — the discomfort was enough. You knew he wanted nothing to do with you anymore. You'd expected him to hate you eventually, but a part of you had really believed that Ayato was going to be different. To save yourself, you found it easier to hate him than to harbor love.
Ayato leaned back from the rail and let his arms fall to the side. You found yourself mimicking his actions. "Despite what you may believe, I did think about you often after we stopped talking. I replayed conversations in my head in all that time of silence, when people were pressing me to pick a bride. I didn't have that many friends, either, no matter what it looked like."
Looking at him curiously, you closed your fan, and settled it on the rail. "Why didn't you?"
"Why didn't I what?"
"Find anyone. You had ample opportunity to find some other woman to marry rather than saddling yourself with me," you pointed out, a shadow passing over your face in time with your eyes wandering to the ground. "Inazuma is full of pretty girls. Why didn't you marry anyone else?"
Another pause filled the void, and Ayato paused a little as if he was considering the right words to say.
"I didn't want anyone," he said in the end. "Ironic, since I value family more than anything else, but — I couldn't — I never —"