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This gathering was a formal wear affair. Kamisato Ayato knew better than anyone else how to dress to impress, and as he sat down in the largest chair at the table, he knew he had succeeded. To drive home the point, he straightened his tie and sleeves, before plastering a courteous smile across his face. Just like the routine. Just like this was normal.
He could feel their gazes upon him as he ate his dinner. Politicians were like that— their opportunism leached into everything they did, their eyes always searching for the slightest hint of weakness. He paid them no mind. Let them watch, he thought to himself. They’ll find not a hair out of place.
He was no stranger to political mind games. The Kamisato Clan was old, powerful, highly respected; a single slip, and it would all come crashing down. In his mind the other politicians were vultures, circling and circling until he collapsed. Perhaps it was paranoia, but he could never be sure. Every politician had a dark underbelly— some were just better hidden than others.
Scanning the room, he saw no sign of the person he was looking for. Casually he turned his attention back to the dinner, pretending all the while that his heart was not pounding. Nervousness had killed his appetite; the food tasted like cardboard. Calm down. Show no fear. Everything will be fine, he told himself.
With his left hand, he fingered the small object in his pocket. Its owner’s words came back to him: A Kamisato can do whatever he wants. The memory of that voice made his smile genuine, just for a second. No matter how on-edge he was, the fact remained: He was not alone. So long as he was careful, he would be fine.
He knew it was time when he heard the chairs scrape across the floor. That meant all the chairs were full, which meant he was here. Without looking up, he knew that the man he was looking for was seated four chairs down on his left. Ayato had reserved it especially for him.
His suspicions were confirmed when he heard a cheerful voice introduce himself to his neighbours. Internally he cringed. If he embarrasses himself, it will reflect poorly on me. Yet when the men around his guest laughed, his nerves calmed.
Ayato checked his watch: 9:24pm. Only thirty-six minutes to go. He glanced up and watched his guest in his peripheral vision, taking care not to look directly at him yet. His guest was a Mondstadtian, blond-haired and green-eyed, yet Ayato knew exactly how loyal he was to the Yashiro Commission. He was wearing a red suit, with a long tailcoat and a pair of gold earrings. If Ayato didn’t know better, he would have mistaken him for any other politician, not a….
“Right, Lord Kamisato?”
Ayato snapped out of his reverie. He turned his head, asking, “I’m sorry?”
“I was saying that the Kamisato Clan has influence in every part of Inazuma. Like a great squid with its tentacles reaching everywhere.” The man who had spoken was on the younger side, and only vaguely familiar to Ayato. “Everything that happens in Inazuma, you and your clan knows about it. And it’s thanks to you, I’ve heard.”
“You flatter me,” Ayato replied, smiling politely.
The man turned to his neighbour, a middle-aged gentleman Ayato did not know. “You see? You should take that as a ‘yes’. My lord Kamisato is humble indeed…”
Ayato tuned them out. He continued eating and making small talk, his smile never dropping, even when it made his face hurt. As the clock turned to nine forty-five, and neared ten, he noticed that most of the plates were empty— and the glasses. Perfect.
It was when the clock struck ten that the partygoers drifted away from the table, heading to the garden outside. From there he could hear the faint sound of the musicians playing. The instant all the eyes were off him, he looked around for his guest.
His guest was leaning against the doorframe outside, a placid smile on his face. Unlike the other guests, he had declined his wine. Upon seeing Ayato, he exclaimed, “There you are!”
“Thoma,” Ayato greeted him. Speaking filled his stomach with butterflies. “I trust you are enjoying the festivities?”
Thoma beamed. “Are you kidding? This has all been so amazing. Thank you so much for inviting me— I can’t believe you would let me participate, when everyone else here is…” He trailed off for a moment, before saying, “You look dour all of a sudden. Is something wrong?”
Yes. “Quite the opposite.” Ayato stepped towards him. “I would like to speak to you in private.”
“Oh. I… Of course. Where?”
He didn’t reply, just turned away and beckoned him. Thoma followed him, and the two walked in silence up to a balcony on the second floor. Ayato scanned Thoma’s face, and his breathing went ragged. That smile…
“What’s wrong, my lord?” Thoma asked, innocent as ever.
Ayato leaned over the balcony, drumming his fingers on the railing. His words now were crucial. “Thoma, you know that I trust you deeply.”
“I… yes, I do, my lord.”
“Please, dispense with the ‘my lord’.”
“Yes, my lo— ah. Sorry, it’s reflexive. Yes, Ayato.” Thoma sounded puzzled. “Are you alright? Anything I can do?”
“Yes, actually.” Tap-tap-tap-tap went Ayato’s fingers against the railing. “I trust you dearly, and you trust me. Yet I know you keep things from me, just as I keep things from you.”
Now he was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“Peace, Thoma. I’m not going to punish you.” Now Ayato turned, meeting Thoma’s eyes as steadily as he could. “I know of political matters, soon to come, that will tear apart the nation. You know where the fault lines are. Your network of informants is extensive, I’m told.” He took a deep breath. “I would propose an equal exchange. One of information, and of trust between us.”
Thoma didn’t respond for several seconds, though his changing facial expressions told Ayato all he needed to know. “Yes, I can arrange that. What kind of information?”
“I want to know about people’s true selves. Where their loyalties lie. What their true opinions are. Who they hate and… and who they love. Politicians don’t speak their mind to the public; but with your help, I would not be ‘the public’.” A burst of inspiration came to him. “I want to be able to speak for the people, not some sickly-sweet facsimile of them.”
“I see,” Thoma said, thoughtful. “But why did you need to speak to me in private? Couldn’t this have been a letter?”
He inhaled again. When Ayato reached forwards and clutched his hand, Thoma’s breath quickened.
“Do you trust me?” Ayato said, quietly.
“Yes…?”
“Will you do this for me?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
Ayato pushed his advantage. “Would you be more than a housekeeper for me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Would you, if I asked, do whatever I told you to do?”
“...Yes....”
“Do you promise?”
“I… I… Yes,” Thoma squeaked. He’s intimidated, Ayato realised. He allowed himself a small grin. Oh, he has no idea…
Ayato squeezed his hand, before moving it to his shoulder and patting it. “Go, then. Enjoy yourself while you’re here,” he said. “I expect you to keep me informed of everything you hear. For tonight, though, have some fun.”
“Yes. Yes, I will. Thank you, my lord. Sorry, I meant Ayato. I won’t disappoint you. Thank you.” Thoma rushed away and downstairs, his movements frenzied. A second later he was out of sight.
Ayato waited another two minutes, listening to the music emanating from the garden. He fiddled again with the object in his pocket.
One down, one to go, he thought.
When he was certain Thoma was gone, he headed down the stairs and through the front door, taking care not to draw attention to himself. The music and the lights faded away behind him as he walked. He looked behind him several times, but saw no-one following.
It was when he reached the edge of the Kamisato Estate, in a small grove of trees, that he saw his other guest. This man was tall, muscular, with broad shoulders and a pair of red horns. Nothing about this guest was subtle, and as Ayato approached, he proved the point by exclaiming, “Ayato, bro! I’ve been waiting here forever!”
“Sorry to keep you here,” Ayato said.
“Don’t worry about it. I just wanna know how you got invited to the Kamisato Estate! You gotta tell me the story, man.”
It astounded Ayato how Itto could be so clever and so stupid at the same time. “Wouldn’t you like to find out,” he said, and stepped towards Itto, smiling mischievously all the while. “It doesn’t matter, anyways. I’d much rather be out here.”
“Well, I’m sure. I bet they’re just talking about business and taxes and other boring crap.” Itto yawned. “If you ever want any excitement in that life of yours, you know that my offer to join the Arataki Gang is always open.”
“Now that you mention it, I do have something I want from you…” More butterflies in Ayato’s stomach. Slow down. Control yourself. “You might call it ‘excitement’.”
Itto grinned. “Oh, I knew that was coming. Real subtle, yeah? Keep it quiet like last week?”
Ayato tried and failed to imagine Itto being subtle and quiet. “That’s the idea.”
“You think somebody will see us?”
“They won’t. Nobody will ever suspect a thing.” Ayato wrapped his arm around Itto’s torso and leaned in towards his face. “That’s the best part.”
When he pressed his lips to Itto’s, he forgot everything except the present. His body shivered with a wonderful exhilaration— he was thrilled by the experience of kissing another man, thrilled by the secretiveness around it all, thrilled through his body and his mind. How do you like being Inazuma’s next scandal? he thought, and felt not a scrap of guilt or fear for it.
Itto had a big, eager smile on his face when Ayato pulled away. “What, are you going to leave me hanging like that?” he said.
Ayato responded by kissing him again, first on his neck, then all over his face and body. Pushing him to the ground, he ran his fingers through his hair and down his horns. Itto’s euphoria manifested as laughter, ha-ha aah-ha ah-ah-ha , the sound echoing all around them. There was no use telling him to be quiet, but Ayato did so anyway. “Shhhh,” he whispered, placing his finger over Itto’s lips. The response was a head-shake and a “No, no, ah, I can’t.”
Despite Ayato’s own joy— of which there was plenty— he couldn’t lie to himself. Archons be good, sooner or later I must be honest with them all. Secrets upon secrets, lies upon lies— if he wasn’t careful, they would drown him. He reached into his pocket and squeezed the object again, and his worries eased. A Kamisato can do whatever he wants.
Several minutes later, Ayato stopped, resting his head on Itto’s chest. Itto wrapped his arms around him, and for a long time he lay there, listening to the sound of their hearts beating. Finally, he made his move— the reason he was here. “Your offer. About the Arataki Gang.”
He laughed. “That convinced you?”
“Not quite, but… well. Okay. Consider me the Arataki Gang’s benefactor. The one who’ll give a good word to the higher-ups. If you’ll have me.”
“Are you joking? I would love to have you around.” Itto sat up abruptly, forcing Ayato to follow suit. “Oh, I can’t wait to introduce you to the rest of ‘em— we’ll do so many things together, and I can’t wait to see you get your hands dirty, maybe—”
“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I’m really not suited for adventuring,” he interrupted.
“Oh.” Itto blinked. “Well, that’s okay. You’ll keep us out of trouble, then? Make sure they know what’ll happen if they fuck with us? Work with us behind the scenes, kinda thing?”
“Exactly,” he said. “And in return… if you don’t mind, I’ve always been curious about what the Arataki Gang gets up to. I can’t help any of you if I don’t know what you do. I figure you know everything there is to know about it.”
“I sure do. Anything you wanna know, I can tell you.” He beamed again. “Ah, you’re like our… our undercover spy. Isn’t that cool? You wanna call that a deal, then?”
Me, his spy… Oh, Itto… “That’s a deal.”
Itto opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak, an unfamiliar voice echoed through the trees. “Itto? Arataki Itto, where are you? I swear, if you’ve gotten yourself into a whole mess…”
Both lovers went pale. “Crap, that’s Shinobu,” Itto muttered, though it was more of a stage whisper.
“Who is Shinobu?”
“Kuki Shinobu is the deputy leader of my gang. She’s always getting me out of sticky situations,” he replied, glancing around furtively. “You’d better go before she catches us.”
“All right.” Ayato stood up, straightening his blazer and tie. Not a hair out of place. “I’ll send for you soon.”
“You’d better.”
On that note, Ayato snuck away as quickly as he could manage. To his relief he evaded notice, as no-one followed behind, and thirty seconds later he heard two faint voices bickering from where he had just been. Without turning back, he walked back to the estate and through the back door, thinking all the while— two down. We did it.
He took the time to regain his composure before entering his bedroom. When he did, he was met by a familiar woman sitting at his desk, looking out the window. The music from the garden below was only barely audible from the room, yet she seemed to be listening to it. On her lap was a stack of papers.
Upon his entrance, the woman stood up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re early. I trust things have gone well?”
“They have.” He sat down on the bed and faced her. “I have secured two new informants.”
“The housekeeper and the oni?”
“Yes.” Ayato crossed his arms. “Thoma will do what I ask of him. He’s smart and observant, but he also doesn’t break promises. Especially not to me. Yes, he’s my own housekeeper, but more importantly, he’s my friend.”
“He’s a little more than a friend, isn’t he?” she asked. When Ayato froze, she continued, “Don’t look so guilty. I told you, I don’t mind if you have other lovers; if I did, I would have told you to leave the oni to me. A Kamisato can do—”
“—whatever he wants,” he finished. Instinctively, he reached down into his pocket for the object, and pulled it out. It was a tiny kitsune figurine, made from wood. On the bottom was carved an Electro symbol and the name Yae Miko.
“You still have that?” Miko asked, sounding amused.
“I wouldn’t lose it. I guess you could say it’s the closest I have to a good-luck charm.” He put it back into his pocket.
“You don’t need good luck. You’re a Kamisato. You say something should happen, and it happens.” She leaned back in her chair, appearing as always like she had no worries in the world. “So you have the housekeeper. What about the oni? Mr. Arataki, is it?”
“Arataki Itto, yes. He was all too happy to agree to my terms. He thought he was getting a great deal,” he said.
“I don’t know what you see in him.”
“I don’t think you give him enough credit. He’s about as observant as a blind rat, but he’s not as stupid as he lets on, and he gets things done. His gang is everywhere, too.”
She shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it. You certainly know him better than I do.” Placing the papers on the desk, she said, “So you have Thoma, who is tuned into the loyalties of others. And you have Itto and the Arataki Gang, who have brawn and perhaps some brains in there too. Who is next?”
“I don’t know. Did you find anybody?”
“Several somebodies, actually.” Miko handed him several papers off the top of her stack. As he flipped through them, she said, “Two of them look likely to resist. Another is an investigator for the Tenryou Commission. They would all be valuable allies.”
Puzzled, Ayato said, “These two are strange picks. A general, and… the Divine Priestess of Watatsumi Island?”
“Neither of them will comply if the Vision Hunt Decree was to pass,” said Miko. “Both have a history of flouting the Almighty Shogun if they believe they know better. We would want to keep an eye on them.”
“I can take the general,” Ayato said, reading what Miko had written. “I’d say ‘one of your superiors wants to hear from you’, then ask him if he could keep me up to date on the military’s workings. And his own personal sentiments, when the time arises.”
“Perfect. Then I will track down Ms. Sangonomiya. Chances are she would be honoured to have gained my attention.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Ayato flipped to the last paper and read off the top. “ Mr. Shikanoin Heizou, age 23. Investigator for the Tenryou Commission.”
“He’ll be a useful asset as well. He’s obsessed with solving mysteries and learning everything there is to know. We’ll have eyes everywhere if we gain his favour— including the Tenryou Commission, and including on Ms. Kujou, bless her heart.”
“That’s a good choice. I’ll go for him as well.” He handed the papers back to Miko and leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Right now, frankly, I just want a break for tonight.”
“Of course.” Miko stood up and approached the bed. She met his eyes and hesitated, just for a brief moment, before leaning down and kissing him.
“I love you,” she said when she had finished.
“I love you too.”
Neither of them spoke for a long moment; Ayato wasn’t sure the silence would ever break. But seconds later it did, and Miko turned and left the room, dropping the papers at his desk before she did.
When she left, Ayato couldn’t help but grin. He’d done it. He’d gotten away with it, and he’d done it without even getting his suit dirty. With enough time, he could have the entire country in his back pocket, and nobody would ever suspect a thing. All it took was words. And love. There’s plenty of that to go around.
And as he drifted off to sleep, Ayato knew that there was nothing more characteristic of the Kamisato Clan than that.