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They don't meet at first, because Ayaka is still young— she is quiet and shy, and Yoimiya has never been either of those.
(It's something that will be remedied later.)
It is midsummer, the humming of onikabuto on nearby trees drowned out only by the loud boom of fireworks, and Ayaka is grateful for the Cryo Vision in her grasp; the very one she uses to flurry snow from her fingertips and keep herself cool as sweat threatens to bead down her neck.
Inazuma City is alive with energy tonight, and the bustle from the ongoing festival brings a smile to Ayaka's face as she silently observes the activities, keeping to herself as she makes sure that everything goes as planned.
Ayaka herself stands apart from the crowd, carefully watching the festivities from further away— she will step up the mantle to lead the Yashiro Commission soon, so this will be one of her duties too.
It is summer, and there is a festival, and Ayaka is young yet duty-bound. There is a gap that she cannot cross between her and other youths, who relish in the noise and play in the streets, sparklers in their hands and laughter on their lips. Almost as an afterthought, Ayaka watches them from afar, almost wishes that she could join them.
Perhaps it isn’t unusual, then, that Ayaka sees her first from a distance— up on a hill, isolated from the rest of Inazuma City, a lithe silhouette framed against a night sky that has been sparked alight. Even from where the eldest daughter of the Kamisato clan stands, she can see a pair of honeyed eyes gazing earnestly up at the sky, lips parted in silent awe.
And Ayaka is young, and she has not seen much of the world.
Nevertheless, Ayaka thinks that this girl is beautiful.
"Brother," Ayaka whispers, hushed as she tugs on the sleeve of her older sibling, who has vigilantly remained next to her. "Brother, do you know who she is?"
The elder boy blinks. "Who?"
"Her." She points quickly at the girl clad in oranges and reds, a summer festival in somber silence.
And it's strange— the sudden urge that overcomes her for this girl to look her way.
"That must be Yoimiya, the daughter of the Naganohara family, the firework makers."
Yoimiya, the eve of a festival; the heart of a celebration. And yet, that girl had been watching the fireworks in silence.
“Naganohara Yoimiya,” Ayaka murmurs under her breath, and tries to ignore the strange flicker of a smile on her brother’s face. Instead, she repeats the name of a girl beyond her grasp, tips her head up to a sky stained a thousand colors, and wonders what would happen if Yoimiya were to ever turn around.
--
Years pass, and the Kamisato clan’s eldest daughter grows up.
Somewhere along the way, Yoimiya must too.
Sometimes, Ayaka sees her in the streets of Inazuma City, handing out sparklers to children as the sun starts its descent across the evening sky; even though there are still weeks until the midsummer festivals begin.
Naganohara Yoimiya. Even from a distance, her name rings loud and clear through Ayaka’s mind. Never aloud again, however. Perhaps there is a part of her that’s worried that if she says Yoimiya’s name aloud, the image of the lone firework girl sitting silently beneath a sky of colors would fade away.
Or perhaps the opposite would occur and Yoimiya would become too real.
For now, Yoimiya simply remains a childish dream— a girl from faraway who Ayaka watches from a distance, who persists onwards just out of reach, and Ayaka knows that she is not even a footnote in such a person’s lifetime.
They don’t know each other, after all.
So why is it that, selfishly, Ayaka finds herself longing for the eyes of a girl she’s never met?
“How are your days, Shirasagi Himegimi?” The head chef at Kiminami Restaurant asks as he sets down a bowl of chazuke in front of her and hands over a pair of chopsticks.
Ayaka accepts the food gratefully with a dip of her head. “I am doing well, sensei.”
She knows he thinks she's lonely, the kind older man that he is. She's never eaten at his restaurant with anyone before, not even her brother.
However, she is not lonely— she is duty-bound, and if the path to serving the people as a figure of the Yashiro Commission must lie across her own solitude, then Ayaka is more than willing to welcome the isolation with open arms.
And yet, as she stares down at her brown of chazuke, it's as if the older man has read her mind, gently piecing apart her deepest insecurities and the excuses she makes to get away with them; thin threads unraveling under his knowing, wise gaze.
"You do not have to be lonely, child," he says kindly, setting down a plate of mochi in front of her. "There are many people who would love to walk with you."
She doesn't know what else to do in response to that besides smile, demure, and turn back to her food with a small, hopeful prayer that he isn't wrong.
--
There is the sound of laughter down the street; the sound of sparklers and children.
For a moment, Ayaka entertains the thought of seeking out the sound, but the sun is setting and she has nightly sparring lessons to attend, so she deftly pivots on her foot and begins the walk back to the Kamisato Estate, waving amicably at anyone who calls her name as she passes.
--
The first time they officially meet — more than just a mere interested glance while passing each other on the street, and more than a quiet acknowledgment during festival preparation meetings between Ayaka's brother and Yoimiya's deaf but charming father — occurs years after that first sighting, by chance on a random Tuesday, when Ayaka is carefully stepping across Byakko Plain and a scared body barrels into her out of the tall grass.
“Onee-san!” The child shrieks, latching to the hem of Ayaka’s dress and tugging. “Onee-san, we need help!”
That’s all that needs to be said for Ayaka to take off through Byakko Plain’s endless field of grass, the child behind her shouting directions.
Fifteen seconds later, and Ayaka is the only person standing between a bloodthirsty Kairagi samurai and a trio of children being shielded by Naganohara Yoimiya.
“What happened?” Ayaka hurriedly asks over her shoulder, directing the question at the firework maker’s daughter.
“The kids were just playing,” Yoimiya informs her in a rush, panic in her eyes, and yet the way she urges one of the terrified boys behind her is gentle nevertheless. “The Kairagi don’t usually wander this close to Konda Village so the young ones were caught off guard, and I was lucky enough to hear the commotion.”
Her fingers twitch, and it’s only then that Ayaka takes notice of the red gleam of a Pyro Vision.
“Kamisato-san, I can—”
“Out of the way!” The ronin growls, lurching forward.
“I think not!” Ayaka’s katana is flickering into her hand not even a heartbeat later, and she parries his blow with a noise of effort, coating her blade in Cryo and sending the towering man stumbling back several steps.
“Naganohara-san, take the children and run!”
“I—” Wide-eyed, Yoimiya stops her protest at the sound of Ayaka’s authoritative tone, and she gives a short nod. Tapping one child’s arm, she urges the children forward through the grass. “Yes, I will! Please stay safe, Kamisato-san.”
“I will do my best, Naganohara-san.”
And with another curt dip of her head, Yoimiya and the children begin their retreat.
Ah, she’s leaving. Ayaka chuckles to herself. Oh, if only you could watch me, just for a little.
Wasting no more time, Ayaka lunges forward, her blade of ice clashing against the ronin's sword of fire. Sparks fly at the collision, and Ayaka hides the way she grits her teeth under the strain— this Kairagi is strong, but there is no need for the children to know that, and certainly not Yoimiya either.
She lifts her head, meets his hidden gaze beneath the horned mask with the icy conviction to meet his fire. Despite how the Kairagi readies his sword, the white-haired girl straightens her posture. After all, Kamisato Ayaka is renowned for her grace— apparently. It simply wouldn't do to not live up to such expectations during such a crucial moment.
Drawing back with a silent hiss, she allows her mouth to curve upwards into a signature serene smile that settles onto her lips like an old friend. She sheathes her elemental sword at her side immediately, fingers toying with the handle as she waits for just the right moment to strike—
Ayaka catches a glimpse as Naganohara Yoimiya glances back at her over her shoulder, and for a brief moment, pale blue eyes meet gold. Perhaps it's just her, but Ayaka swears that the air between them crackles, electric as the element of their nation, before the connection snaps, and Yoimiya is whisking the children off to safety.
In the meantime, Ayaka spins around to the foe in front of her, snapping out her fan in a flurry of frostflakes and unsheathing her blade to unleash a blizzard.
--
By the time she has finished disposing of the Kairagi, Yoimiya is long gone, presumably back at Konda Village with the other children. Across the relatively flat plains, Ayaka can see the cluster of houses even in the distance.
She entertains the idea of visiting the village for a moment before chancing a glance at the setting sun, biting her lip when she realizes how much time has passed. When she'd initially set off for Tenryou, it had been to personally pick up a shipment of tea from Komore Teahouse— surely Taroumaru would be worried if she were any later than usual.
With a heavy sigh, she continues her journey down to Inazuma City.
Retrieving her imported tea from the teahouse is an easy task, especially after her previous altercation, and before she knows it, Ayaka has returned to Hanamizaka, the outskirts of Inazuma City, to rest on the roots of a sakura tree before making the hike back to the Kamisato Estate.
Not unlike usual, her thoughts drift to Yoimiya.
I do hope they didn’t run into any more trouble, she muses to herself, thinking of fingers that had inched towards a Pyro Vision. Being born into a family of firework makers, it only makes sense that Yoimiya would possess a Vision of fire affinity— how else would she be able to create such lively explosions on the spot? Oh, but what weapon does Yoimiya wield? Does she wield a weapon at all? It’s only customary that Vision wielders train in one of Teyvat’s many disciplines. Perhaps a catalyst then? Or a naginata much like their beloved Archon? Or maybe even a sword like herself—
"Your sword made fireworks!"
Immediately, Ayaka startles in place, nearly hitting her head against a low hanging branch, abruptly pushing herself up with a hand against the trunk and scrambling to find the source of the new voice.
No, no it couldn't be—
The voice giggles.
"Up here!"
Craning her neck back, Ayaka feels the breath leave her lungs as Naganohara Yoimiya enters her vision, poised and catlike from where she sits amongst branches of sakura blossoms. The blonde-haired girl kicks her feet back and forth as Ayaka's mouth parts but no sound comes out, and Yoimiya laughs again, leaping down to join her at the bottom.
“You’re—” Ayaka stammers, instinctively steadying herself against the tree. Around them, eternal sakura blossoms fall gently like the first snow, and suddenly, Yoimiya is reaching forward to carefully discard a petal that had gotten stuck in her hair.
“Yoimiya,” the fireworks girl says, beaming.
“Yoimiya-san,” Ayaka repeats, as if she hasn’t been hearing that name ring through her thoughts during the most inconvenient of times.
“And you are Kamisato-san, the Shirasagi Himegimi,” Yoimiya continues.
“I—” Ayaka remains on the brink of correcting her, the sound of her own name just a breath away. Then she closes her mouth, nodding demurely and offering a small, bashful smile of her own. “Yes, that is me.”
“I wanted to say thank you.” Stepping closer, the blonde-haired girl approaches Ayaka almost like how a human would a frightful cat; gentle and patient. It’s only then, with the distance having significantly closed, that Ayaka suddenly notices how the other girl genuinely has a few beats in height above her. “Thanks to you, the children made it out safely, and I didn’t have to resort to this thing.”
In a shimmer of light, Ayaka blinks as a delicately crafted bow materializes in Yoimiya’s hand.
An archer of fire and fireworks! A smile slips across Ayaka’s lips.
“Somehow, archery makes sense,” she says, giggling lightly. Her shoulders relax, the tension slowly eases off her shoulders as the shock wears off. “Do you make explosive arrows, Yoimiya-san?”
“Hey, they’re only for emergencies!” Yoimiya winks, and perhaps Ayaka’s heart stutters in her chest. “So, what were you doing out here, Kamisato-san?”
“I had been picking up some tea I ordered for delivery to Komore Teahouse.” Conversation comes easily; almost too easily. Ayaka can’t help but realize that despite the formal address, Yoimiya treats her casually, asking how her day had been like a friend would during a casual meeting in the street. Then, with a glance up to the sky, “I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. I suppose the encounter at Byakko Plain had taken longer than I had anticipated.”
“Ah, it's getting dark!” Yoimiya grins and holds her hand out expectantly. “You saved me, so the least I can do is get you home.”
Ayaka stares up at her in wonder, pale blue eyes meeting honeyed sunshine.
Carefully, she reaches out, takes Yoimiya’s hand.
“Yoimiya-san?” The Kamisato girl’s mouth moves before she can comprehend.
“Yes?”
“I don’t quite wish to return home yet,” Ayaka says slowly, tentatively. Still, a small smile graces her lips, and her lashes flutter bashfully at the taller girl. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”
Yoimiya beams, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.
“Why, I’d love to, Kamisato-san!”
--
The head chef at Kiminami Restaurant grins wider tonight when Ayaka settles into her seat next to Yoimiya, his warm laugh louder when Yoimiya greets him happily and asks if his daughter was helping him tonight.
“Anna is running out errands,” he explains as he turns to start cooking their meals. “On warm nights like tonight, I like to send her home early to get groceries and take in the fresh air.”
“You are capable of running this place by yourself?” Ayaka asks.
“But of course!” He guffaws, placing down glasses of water before heading to the kitchen.
“Kiminami-sensei is always doing the most for his daughter,” Yoimiya comments, a fond smile overtaking her features. “A parent’s love for their children is always great to witness.” When Ayaka dips her head in agreement, Yoimiya suddenly gets a sparkle in her eye— a firework. “Speaking of doing the most, you were very cool earlier, when you brought out your sword!”
“Oh!” Her glass of water already at her lips, Ayaka stutters, completely caught off guard by the sudden praise. She stammers out, “It was nothing! I only wanted to help.”
“And you did!” Yoimiya gushes, and she reminds Ayaka of a puppy. “You really saved me there!”
“And I would do it again in a heartbeat,” Ayaka promises immediately, just as Kiminami-sensei brings out their appetizers.
And as they begin to eat, conversing in easy conversation (or rather, Ayaka happily listening to Yoimiya talk of her many colorful customers), the Kamisato girl finds herself meaning every single word.
“Come to the midsummer festival with me,” Yoimiya says, when the time comes for them to part for the night. “Watch the fireworks with me, Kamisato-san.”
And Ayaka beams.
“I would love to, Yoimiya-san!”
--
Some things simply don’t come to pass.
The second time Ayaka draws her sword for Yoimiya, it is out of defense.
There are soldiers in the street, yelling about a new, upcoming decree from the Shogun— a Vision Hunt Decree, to seize all Visions within Inazuman borders and for them to be inlaid upon the Statue of the Omnipresent God.
Ayaka maneuvers her way through the crowd, a feeling of dread deep in her stomach at the sound of a familiar voice amidst shouting ahead.
“Hand over the Vison!”
“Don’t touch me!” Yoimiya shouts, her voice sharp over the commotion. She clenches her Vision in one hand and her bow in the other, unable to draw it lest she lose her grip on the Pyro glass orb she holds dear.
Ayaka moves immediately, her own sword flashing out to counter that of the Shogunate soldier who had drawn his own.
“Kamisato-san!” Yoimiya gasps, and there is a clash of steel.
“Please get back, Yoimiya-san!”
Dodging a wide slash, Ayaka ducks low and lunges forward once more, her sword clanging against the offending soldier’s.
She grits her teeth as she spies the sparks between their blades, flicks out her fan.
Her Cryo has been known to come suddenly, a sheer cold of a snowflake mark appearing in the blink of an eye, and with no hesitation, she freezes the feet of the soldiers who dare try to steal the Visions of those dear to her.
“Take care not to anger me,” Ayaka says quietly, careful to keep her expression perfectly neutral. She sheaths her sharp blade by her side before allowing it to dissipate into light. In front of her, the brash soldier shivers at the ice at their feet, but Ayaka pays his quaking no mind and remains unfaltering— she has never flinched from the cold.
“You are loyal to Her Excellency, the Shogun, are you not?” Allowing for the most demure of smiles, Ayaka deftly moves to shield Yoimiya with her body. “Then you should take care to actually carry out her orders. This Vision Hunt Decree has yet to be finalized, else it would have been made known to the Tri-Commission. Watch your words, and do not be hasty.”
--
They don’t get to watch the fireworks together that year.
Ayaka remains with the Yashiro Commission, and meets with Master Masakatsu, a man who can forge even the most convincing fake Visions, shrouded beneath the festivities.
Yoimiya helps smuggle Vision holders into her house, the blinding light of the fireworks keeping unwanted eyes away from her quiet deeds of rebellion.
--
A year passes. The Vision Hunt Decree picks up and the Resistance rises from the Sangonomiya grounds to press back. Vision Holders have their dreams and aspirations confiscated— Ayaka keeps a tight grip on hers, silently supports the Resistance, feels the Cryo energy coat her fingertips before dissipating.
She grows closer to Yoimiya through the strife. The regular, non-Vision-possessing citizens carry on in their daily lives, and Yoimiya sees to it that Inazuma’s festivals would carry on without hitch.
It is easy, Ayaka discovers, to look into the sky and lose yourself in a sea of brilliant colors, flashing and fleeting yet burned into your memory nonetheless.
When she is with Yoimiya, the sword at her beck and call remains forgotten, even for a while, and Ayaka allows herself to remain in the company of all the hope in the world, packaged into one single, young firework maker.
A traveler from nations across the sea lands on their shores. Ayaka falls in love, and then leaps out of it just as quickly.
She's not sure of how it had come to be— immaturity? Was it infatuation? Lumine had been kind and understanding from the beginning, and admittedly, perhaps there was some lingering awe from befriending the person who had brought down Mondstadt and Liyue's terrors.
It's not as though she's ever gotten even relatively close to anyone else before, save for—
"Yo!" Yoimiya shows up at the entrance of the Kamisato Estate anyway, a bright smile illuminating the nighttime, rivaling that of the fireflies. She raises a hand to reveal a paper bag in one hand. "I brought tofu pudding! Eat with me?"
That's how Ayaka finds herself perched atop the roof of the estate, brushing shoulders with the fireworks maker and daintily picking at her tofu pudding. Conversation (or lack thereof) comes easily; she's strangely content to simply listen and hum in response as Yoimiya speaks animatedly, gesturing energetically with a spoon dangling out the corner of her mouth.
"So," Yoimiya starts, once a comfortable lull had taken to their (mainly one-sided) conversation. She swings her feet to-and-fro, smiling understandingly at Ayaka, and the Kamisato girl just knows where this is going. "Thoma came to me earlier. He said that you were really down recently, and well," she motions vaguely, "I could see it."
"See what?" Ayaka asks, feigning innocence.
"The heartbreak," Yoimiya says simply.
"Ah." Ayaka breathes out a short laugh, settling back into that lovely space of self-deprecation. Biting her lip, suddenly the surface of her pudding is incredibly interesting. "Was it that obvious?"
"It was on your face." Yoimiya's smile softens. She reaches forward, thumb pressing against the corner of Ayaka's mouth, swipes away residual pudding. The blue-haired girl continues to stare, breathless. "It's alright, though. Lumine seemed to be… someone easy to fall for."
Somehow, Yoimiya's honesty is refreshing, like a cool drink of water on a hot summer evening.
"I think I'm more frustrated that it happened so easily." Sighing, Ayaka's grip tightens on the jar between her fingers. "It is as though— as though I didn't even have a choice. I don't even remember getting my hopes up. And now I feel… all out of sorts."
"It can be scary when you don't have control," Yoimiya agrees, setting down her pudding. Then she grins, throwing her arms up, lackadaisical, behind her head. "If it makes you feel better, I asked Lumine if she wanted to settle down here in Inazuma after she finds her brother, and it sounded like she was seriously considering it."
And then she pulls a funny expression, crossing her eyes and scrunching her nose in such a way that has Ayaka genuinely laughing, the sound rising with the gentle breeze that dances past, above the buzz of the onikabuto, beyond the turquoise glow of Chinju Forest, and even further than the light of Inazuma City across the water.
"Oh, thank you, Yoimiya-san!" Ayaka giggles in a titter, like the clear sound of bells from the Grand Narukami Shrine. "But I think I will have no choice but to move on."
Yoimiya's brow furrows, a small frown on her lips. "No choice?"
"Yes," Ayaka confirms, and a burst of warm fondness blossoms in her chest as she sees Yoimiya finally turn to look at her, worry evident in golden orbs. "But that's not a bad thing, I think. I think that there is much to be gained from this experience, so… yes, it is not bad."
"Maybe not," Yoimiya relents. Then she pauses. "Well, since you don't have a choice on that… perhaps you could indulge in something that you do have a say in?"
"Oh?" Ayaka tips her head. "Like what?"
Yoimiya shrugs, attempting nonchalance.
"Well, I mean, your Vision's pretty cool."
"Do summer nights get too hot for even the Queen of Summer Festivals?" Ayaka teases.
"Of course not!" Yoimiya huffs indignantly much to Ayaka's inherent amusement. She crosses her arms. “Maybe I just like looking at your snowflakes!”
“Do you?” Ayaka questions.
“Of course!” Yoimiya replies.
“Then I suppose I will choose to indulge you.” Ayaka giggles, but she sets down her pudding cup and summons snowflakes to her fingertips regardless, her shallow breathing sending her heart rate into a flurry as Yoimiya stares at the chilly particles in awe, admiration. The frostflakes blossom at her whim, as if in a dance, flowers blooming where no flora should bloom.
“Beautiful,” Yoimiya whispers, and Ayaka holds her breath. “I wish I could make something beautiful like that.”
“Nonsense, you can!” Ayaka protests softly. “Your fireworks are the most spectacular sight in all of Inazuma, Yoimiya-san.” Almost. In reality, you are the most spectacular, Yoimiya-san.
“I have sparklers with me.”
“You do?”
A minute later, they’re crouching on the rooftop, sparklers in their grasp, miniature fireworks in their hands, and Ayaka watches the sparking flame flicker at the end of the stick; so close to burning her, so beautiful in her hands.
At her side, Yoimiya’s elbow bumps against her own. They share a look, bursting out into quiet giggles as a guard in the distance loudly asks where the eldest Kamisato daughter had vanished.
“Thank you, Yoimiya-san,” Ayaka whispers. “Thank you so much for doing this for me.”
The firework maker smirks.
“I think just Yoimiya is good, Kamisato-san.”
“So then, I am Ayaka.”
“Yoimiya and Ayaka, sitting on the roof, pudding cups at their feet and sparklers in hand.”
“I certainly hope we don’t catch anything on fire.”
“Hey, have some faith!”
Ayaka laughs the hardest she has in months.
--
“Oh, you’re back with another friend!” Anna remarks happily later in the week, much as her father once had. In the meanwhile, Ayaka situates herself in one of the chairs next to Yoimiya at Kiminami Restaurant. It’s almost hard to believe now that the last time she had eaten here with Yoimiya was before even the Vision Hunt Decree— oh, how time flies. “What would the two of you like to order?”
The moment Anna turns around to start work on their orders, the firework maker leans in close to murmur in Ayaka’s ear.
“Kiminami-sensei is still gone,” Yoimiya says quietly, the look in her eye softening as they watch Anna take to the kitchen. “Anna is doing great keeping the place up and running, but… I get worried, y’know?”
“I do,” Ayaka confesses. She had adored the older man and his warm nature, always welcoming every time she would visit for chazuke and their many, many other delicacies. “I hope that one day, he will be found. Or better yet, I wish for him to simply return home.” A deep sigh has her shoulders drooping, in a rare instance of public vulnerability. “It has already been a year since the Vision Hunt Decree was enacted, and civil war between the Resistance and the Tenryou Commission only seems to worsen.”
“The first and only other time we ate here together, it was after you fought that rogue samurai for me.” Yoimiya chuckles, resting an elbow on the counter. “That’s crazy, isn’t it? Back then, sensei hadn’t disappeared, the Sakoku Decree hadn’t been enacted, and neither had the Vision Hunt Decree.”
“So much has changed.” Sighing again, Ayaka closes her eyes. “I fear that I cannot gauge the passage of time properly anymore. Is a year long or short? I can no longer remember.”
“Is this the eternity the Raiden Shogun is searching for?” Yoimiya wonders.
“I don’t know.” It’s an admission that frustrates Ayaka to no end. To this day, she still cannot place what is happening in the Shogun’s head. “And there is so much whiplash between those suffering due to the decrees, and those who remain unaffected. As a leader of the Yashiro Commission, I wish there was more than I could do, but—”
“Ayaka, slow down.”
A hand soothingly begins rubbing circles into the Kamisato girl’s back, and Ayaka opens her eyes to Yoimiya’s bright smile— in the end, the way Yoimiya’s lips curve up, the way Yoimiya’s eye go alight, still hasn’t changed.
“We’ll be alright,” Yoimiya assures her. By all means, Yoimiya reminds Ayaka of a firework and yet somehow, she is not nearly as fleeting; burns too bright even on nights with no festivals.
“We will,” Ayaka agrees, more steadily.
“Come to the midsummer festival with me,” Yoimiya says, and Ayaka finds herself transported back to a simpler time. “Watch the fireworks with me, Ayaka.”
And so Ayaka blinks back tears of all the time lost, smiles at Yoimiya and imagines them in a place where nothing is wrong.
“I would love to, Yoimiya.”
--
The day of the midsummer festival fireworks display arrives sooner than Ayaka could ever anticipate.
Before she even knows it, Yoimiya has taken Ayaka by the hand, and she’s breathless as Yoimiya pulls her up the steps to the highest point of Amakane Island— the island, while lit with lanterns, remains empty today, with the festival taking place in Hanamizaka and Tenryou, stalls lining the streets.
“The sakura blossoms here are always so beautiful,” Ayaka breathes, never growing tired of the pastel pinks and their ethereal glow in the nighttime.
“This is my favorite spot to watch the fireworks,” Yoimiya tells her, as they stand by the cliffside. “And look, we’re just in time!”
Not even a second later, and the sky explodes with light.
“Oh,” Ayaka whispers, and the organ in her chest clenches at the sight, whisked back to all those years ago, watching Yoimiya beneath the celebration from a far, far distance. When had the gap been closed? How is it that she stands at that girl’s side; Yoimiya, who had been a childish dream for so long?
"I usually watch fireworks in silence," Yoimiya says, face alight with vibrant colors as they flash across the night sky, and she smiles, squeezes Ayaka's hand tight; Ayaka's chest squeezes in reaction, "but this is the first time I think I've watched to hear my own voice with someone else's above the noise."
Oh.
Ayaka feels her heart thud against her ribcage, in time with a clap of sparks against the nighttime.
"I always love hearing your voice, Yoimiya," Ayaka finds herself saying honestly, the words leaving her lips before she can berate herself for even having the thought.
If she closes her eyes and loses herself deep enough in it all, it's like she can say anything she wants tonight— or perhaps it's even easier than that.
Maybe it's the in the night sky, or the fireworks between a clash of swords, or even better yet, the fireworks in Yoimiya's eyes; Yoimiya's smile; Yoimiya's laughter—
Yoimiya, Yoimiya, Yoimiya.
"You look like a yokai," Ayaka breathes, because there are fireworks bursting in her heart, and because it's a festival all around, and because Yoimiya looks so unfairly beautiful tonight in her natural element. She giggles to herself, absolutely drunk on the feeling. "A yokai that lures away wayward festival-goers with the promise of eternal fun."
Yoimiya tips her head back, laughs.
"Aren't people afraid of such spirits?" Shooting a humorous look Ayaka's way, Yoimiya taps her thumb against the side of the Shirasagi Himegimi's hand. "You're not afraid of me, are you, Kamisato-san?"
"I would never be," Ayaka replies immediately. I wouldn't mind dying right now, actually.
"And your hair is like a moonbeam, Ayaka," Yoimiya replies, grinning. As if it were instinctive, Yoimiya reaches out, brushes her fingers through a strand of pale hair, and Ayaka sucks in a breath as the thought hits her again— when had the spaces between disappeared?
"Yoimiya-san—" She doesn’t even notice the way she slips back into startled formality.
"Beautiful," Yoimiya says, seemingly unable to say more for once. Her grin softens. "A moon goddess. You could steal me away and I would gladly go with you."
Oh, not even her Cryo Vision could cool the rising heat in her cheeks.
"You're too kind—" Ayaka starts to stammer.
"I don't really know what to do now," Yoimiya suddenly confesses, hushed, and Ayaka halts in place. "I've always wanted to go to a festival with you, but now that we're here, I—" She shifts, suddenly looking out of her element. "Is this okay? I know there's a lot going on right now, but—"
Ayaka steps closer.
"I really like you, Yoimiya!"
And Yoimiya lets out the most adorable squeak of surprise.
Oh, that wasn’t supposed to come out . Ayaka clamps her mouth shut, and she’s positive that she's never been redder in her life. Well, that just happened.
"You—" The blonde-haired girl's mouth opens and closes like a fish. Slowly, a smile begins to spread across Yoimiya's face, like a flower in bloom; a firework sprawling across the sky. "Did you just say…?"
Ducking her head, Ayaka shifts her eyes to the ground and delivers one swift nod.
"Really," she says for good measure, because she's already come this far. "This… this isn't me not thinking this through. It's—" Ayaka swallows. "I mean it. With every ounce of my being."
"Oh, that's good," Yoimiya breathes out, and she somehow inches closer, despite their already close space.
Beyond them, red fireworks blossom against the night.
Peeking up through her lashes, Ayaka’s bottom lip trembles. “It is?”
“I mean, yeah, of course!” Yoimiya laughs, a look of amazed disbelief painted across her features alongside another flash of red in the sky. Abruptly, she drops to the ground, sprawling out across the lush grass like a starfish, grinning dopily up at Ayaka like she’s been caught in a waking dream. "That makes me really, really happy, actually.
“Because I've always thought that everything I have was by chance— the family I was born into, the people that I met, the lessons that I've learned, all by chance.” Stretching a hand up to the sky, reaching for the illuminations that dance far above them both, Yoimiya seems to be gazing beyond, somewhere far further than the veil of night. “But then I saw you one day, Ayaka, silently watching the fireworks to yourself and I thought oh, I want to meet her. It was never just by chance— I still chose you, Ayaka."
I chose you. The words resound through Ayaka's head, tuck themselves into her chest and nestle into the space next to her heart. She had been chosen— Yoimiya had chosen her. And looking back, hadn't she chosen Yoimiya as well?
Wordlessly, she brings herself to sit in the space beside Yoimiya, knees tucked beneath her, and she shivers at how the other girl immediately brings her body to curl around her. The blonde-haired girl’s fingers start to lazily drum against her thigh, more than content to leave Ayaka alone to her thoughts for a while longer.
How had they gotten here?
All of her life, Ayaka had let the circumstance lead— she had stepped up to the mantle of the Yashiro Commission because she was supposed to; she had grown accustomed to her loneliness because no one had ever reached out to her. And yet, when Yoimiya had held her hand out that day and offered to escort Ayaka home, it had been Ayaka who had asked if Yoimiya had wished to eat dinner together.
Every day, had they simply been choosing each other over and over as well?
Ayaka opens her mouth.
“You’ve been looking at me all night.” Her cheeks warm as the observation leaves her lips.
Yoimiya hums, wriggling around to rest her head in Ayaka’s lap.
“Sounds about right.”
“I’ve always wanted you to look at me.” Before she knows it, her hands are tugging Yoimiya’s hair out of its usual ponytail, fingers combing through blonde locks. “You’ve always felt different to me. It’s always been a terribly selfish wish of mine, to want something like this when my feelings are so… all over the place these days.”
Yoimiya makes another dreamy noise.
“It’s not selfish if both of us want it. It's okay— you can take all the time you need.”
“But you could say that I chose you too, right?”
And much like that day under the sakura tree years ago, Yoimiya beams. She reaches up again to let her fingertips trail down Ayaka’s cheek.
“We chose each other, then.”
The sky continues to erupt in oranges and reds and yellows. Ayaka sees the fireworks from the corner of her vision, but sees them more clearly when she gazes into Yoimiya’s— her liquid sunshine, gold just within her hands.
Right now, everything else fades away. There is no Vision Hunt Decree, no Sakoku Decree, no Resistance. There are no responsibilities, there is no Archon seeking the last few Visions to complete the Statue of the Omnipresent God. There exists nothing else in this pocket of time but Ayaka and Yoimiya,
Above them, a pale blue firecracker races up into the air, faster than any of its brethren, before sparking into the night like a flower in bloom, sprawling outwards across the night’s canvas like a snowflake, loud and booming like a clash of swords, yet graceful like a heron at daybreak, and together with Yoimiya, Ayaka watches in silent awe as it shimmers through the air before fading into starlight.
--
“Yoimiya, at the end, was that…?” Ayaka trails off as they walk through Chinju Forest, back up to the Kamisato Estate hand-in-hand. She’s not quite sure how to ask this without sounding overly presumptuous, and she wrinkles her nose as she muses over her wording, wondering how to convey her thoughts in a way that doesn’t sound like she’s jumping to conclusions.
Thankfully, Yoimiya has grown used to her moments of hesitance, has learned to fill in the gaps and read her silence with ease, and the firework maker dons a proud grin as she squeezes Ayaka’s hand.
“Did you like it?” Yoimiya looks adorably akin to a puppy as she voices her eager question, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she awaits Ayaka’s answer. “I’d been trying to get that firework just right for you for the past few years now!”
“Years?” Ayaka repeats, startled.
Solemnly nodding once, Yoimiya’s smile turns sheepish, rubbing at the back of her head. “Every since I first saw you use your Cryo Vision with your sword that first time before we met.”
“But… why?”
“Why not?” Yoimiya shrugs, laughing, and in this enchanting place, surrounded by bioluminescent blue flowers and a mystical canopy, Ayaka finds herself continuously enchanted by the sound. “I wanted to impress a super pretty girl, and I only know fireworks! How else would I have gone about it?”
“That’s fair,” Ayaka amends with a giggle, Yoimiya’s mirth positively infectious. “I tried to hold your attention via sword fighting, so I suppose there isn’t much I can say to that.”
“My knight in shining armor,” Yoimiya gushes, leaning in to push her shoulder against Ayaka, and more laughter bubbles from their lips, weightless. Somewhere deep in Chinju Forest, Ayaka swears she hears the sound of the tanukis laughing with them.
“And I would fight for you a thousand more times,” she tells her, truthfully.
Under a cloudless night sky, beneath the canopy of a glowing forest, perfection for a moment in their universe.
“Yoimiya?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think this is the eternity the Shogun is seeking?” Ayaka gestures between them, and then back up to the sky, where the fireworks had been bursting forth from not too long ago.
“I don’t know if it’s what the Shogun herself is looking for,” Yoimiya admits, honest as always. “But it is the type of eternity that I have been looking for— my own eternity, captured in the fireworks, just like this.”
Ahead of them, the Kamisato Estate comes into view, and a deep longing situates itself in the pit of Ayaka’s stomach— she knows it won’t be long until they see each other again, but the feeling of not wanting to part from Yoimiya remains nonetheless.
"Shall I walk with you the rest of the way?" Yoimiya asks, courteous and smiling, Ayaka's own firework who gives her the courage to do things she would never do before, and—
"Yes, please!" It's like she's flying, and Ayaka sees her own smile reflected in Yoimiya's eyes, and maybe, just maybe she could be a firework too. "Yoimiya, do you actually want to sleep over tonight? It's already late and all, and I don’t want the Shogun’s soldiers to suspect you of anything—"
“Ayaka!” Yoimiya interrupts, laughter bubbling from her lips, face alight as if illuminated by fireworks themselves. She takes Ayaka’s hands, steps close and presses their foreheads together; Ayaka’s heart stutters in her chest, feels their fingers intertwine. “I would love to!”
There is a light here, even in the night; even after the festival’s firework display has ended for now. It touches Ayaka’s hands, makes her cold skin feel warm, presses up against her frostflakes and stains her soul in a bright place and leads her home; leads her to Yoimiya, her eternal flame that burns bright even during the harshest of weather, whose flames dye her ice into different colors.
There is no more distance; even amidst a storm, her dreams are within reach, a firework within her hands.
She holds Yoimiya’s hand and knows that all will be okay.
End.