Severance of Service
"Tomorrow's the big day, huh?" Thoma said with a cheery smile, entering Ayato's office. The evening was late, and the office was dim and dreary, lit only by candle and moonlight.
Ayato was struck speechless by his expression and tone. He was smiling and holding his hands on his hips. Stood there saying just the same thing he said before any big festival or event hosted by the Yashiro.
The day had gone by both in a blur and a sluggish haze. Dry and tight-lipped conversations with Shogunate officials and Tenryou regarding Thoma's execution. Ayato broke his eye contact with Thoma, he couldn't bare to look at him.
It made Ayato's stomach turn to even think on it. He wanted to gag. Seeing the putrid expression on Ayato face, Thoma's own expression softened. The fixer reached out and ventured a touch to his lord's forearm.
Ayato felt his chin raised up by Thoma's finger. "It'll be okay," Thoma whispered. Ayato's heart swelled. Don't look at me with those eyes! Don't look at me like I won't ever see you again! You're going to die tomorrow, foolish boy.
And yet, even knowing his head would be departing his body, Thoma looked entirely unfazed. They glistened with that same youthful excitement and kindness. Why did such a gentle and competent, kind person need to die? Ayato gritted his teeth and shut his eyes, feeling how wet they were.
He squeezed at Thoma's forearm.
"I am glad it'll be you instead of some Tenryou grunt. It won't be any different than any other time I've put my life on the line for the Kamisato." Thoma said softly.
He's being so strong, and I'm on the verge of tears. I can't, I refuse, to let my weakness undermine his resolve.
Ayato breathed deep and ragged, his chest and lungs rattling with the shudder of suppressed emotion. And he nodded. "Thank you for every year of your service," Ayato said with reverence and honest admiration.
"Thank you for years of shelter, advice, kindness, opportunity. Although I do have one regret," Thoma's voice trailed.
Ayato examined him with extreme scrutiny. What could it be? What could I provide? Anything, no matter how late it is in the evening! But, there was only a sly and playful smile, not an uncommon sight when dealing with Thoma.
"I won't be able to give you your birthday present this year."
Don't say it like that… it's a horrible thought. Ayato shoved down his feelings, and asked, "well, what was it?"
Thoma stepped away for just a moment, swiftly getting behind the shelf next to Ayato's desk.
"You hid my present in my office?" Ayato said with a genuine laugh, sputtering slightly from that clogging of his chest the earlier tears brought.
"Why not? You're almost never in here."
With a dashing pose, Thoma presented his prize - Dandelion Wine from Mondstadt. "I got it off a merchant in Ritou after helping him."
Ayato smiled softly. He was a little nervous about trying a grape liquor, it sounded very strange to him. How can I deny his gift, especially presented this way?
The first glass had Ayato blushing. The second, had him blabbering about how good it was. The third he was giggling uncontrollably and slapping Thoma's back with each joyous memory and shared joke.
Thoma's pale skin was flush with drunkenness by the time the last droplets were drained. "Well, what do you think?" He sluggishly laughed.
Ayato turned away from his cup. Thoma's emerald eyes twinkled. His golden blonde hair falling in messy scraggles to the sides of his face. They accented the sides of his soft, shaven cheeks well. He stared for what felt like an eternity. In a hushed tone, heavy with emotion, Ayato answered. "I love it."
Thoma leaned in, and his neck and breath were heavy with the accents of alcohol. His lips pecked at Ayato's cheek. And then his hands danced across Ayato's chest. And Thoma delivered Ayato's second gift.
On the day of the ceremony, Ayato didn't see even a glance of Thoma. Their time the previous night had carried onto the wee hours of the morning. And now that the drunkenness had faded, Ayato thought it was better this way.
He, Ayaka, and the rest of their Clan's representatives were all adorned in their finest garb. Stuffy, ceremonial things. He'd worn them dozens of other times to the Shogun's palace. Before they felt like needed and necessary accouterments for presenting oneself before her eminence.
Now they felt seemed to strangle and stifle Ayato; clownish and disrespectful rags.
Beside him, kneeling, with his head tucked down, was Thoma. His braided blonde hair was draped over his chest. His neck was cleanly revealed. His breathing was steady to Ayato's ear. You're a wonderful servant, Thoma. You don't deserve this.
The grand hall of Tenshukaku stretched along in front of Ayato. In his ear buzzed the reading of some rites or legal announcements. Meaningless words. In rows and rows, kneeling, were dozens of representatives from the various commissions and clans. All lined up before the Raiden Shogun. The figure of eternity.
To her right was her lapdog. Kujou Sara. Upstart bitch. Your life isn't worth a fraction of his. And yet, despite the vitriol boiling between his ribs, no amount of angry staring would remove that empty and contemptible expression from Sara. She sat beside the Shogun and watched the proceedings with the same interest she would reading an after-action report.
Atop her throne was the Raiden Shogun. Thoma's murderer. She was nearly thirty meters from Ayato and yet her piercing gaze and cold, frozen expression, made her seem like she was but 2 centimeters from him. Breathing down his neck, reading his thought.
Read this you loathsome viper. I'll murder you and every other cowardly cur who shows you support. This entire hall will be so soaked with blood it will drip through the tatami and into the soil below. And still it won't be enough to cleanse the sin you're committing today.
The signal was called, and like a machine Ayato drew his sword and turned right, raising up. Time truly did freeze. The hair on Thoma's neck. Light, almost unseeable. The slight bruising of marks left from the previous night. Ayato wanted to drop his sword and embrace him. He felt his eyes begin to water.
Then, something grabbed hold of him. It felt as though a demon had flown into the top of his skull and possessed his entire body. His arm fell downward, and straight through Thoma's neck. Thoma's body fell forward onto the carpet limply.
Ayato, eyes entirely wide, lifted up Thoma's head and looked straight at the Shogun. If I close my eyes for a second tears will flow. His vision warbled with the wetness of his eyes. He lifted up Thoma's head, the boy's ichor running down his forearm and wrist in streams.
Ayato nearly gagged at the realization of the softness of Thoma's hair, which he caressed just the previous night, was just as soft and warm in death as it was in life. I can't bear it. I can't bear it! And yet he still clutched and held Thoma up, presenting it clearly to the entire court.
"For the Raiden Shogun!" He declared, voice echoing in the chamber.
I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you.