Chapter Text
The day after his father's funeral, Ayato woke up not able to see faces. He walked into the dining hall, expecting Ayaka and Thoma, not faceless albeit friendly people. But their voices, their build, and their movement indicated the faceless people in his vicinity were his sister and his friend. He could still see other things like the gleaming Hydro Vision clipped at his belt, the steam from the miso soup Furuta had prepared, and the Tenshukaku at the distance. It seemed that his eyes only lost his perception of people's faces. If this was a prank by a random youkai or a curse put upon him by rival clans, then Ayato won't give them the satisfaction of seeing him flailing. Fortunately for him, today's main priority was to go through his late father's documents rather than meeting other clan members at their houses. Throughout the day, the servants, the Shummatsuban members, and the bolder other clan's representative entered his (used to be his father's) office as he read through the mountain of papers. He found it curious that despite the limitation on his sight, he could still remember the visitors' names and any significant information about them. Even the lack of facial expression didn't bother him too much as if he could detect their expression through different means.
He only realized it was late at night when Ayaka and Thoma dropped by the office with the latter carrying a tray with his reheated dinner (their faces were still blurry). But the way Ayaka fidgeted in front of him was enough to tell him that she wanted something but was too shy to vocalize it. The brother put on a gentle smile (reserved for her) and asked the question for her.
"What do you want, Ayaka?"
"Brother, before I go to sleep, may I hug you?"
"Of course, my dear sister."
She jumped into his embrace and his heart, which was supposed to fortify against unruly and unnecessary emotions, broke over the sounds of her sobbing. He tightened his arms and waited patiently for her cries to peter out. Thoma, reliable as ever, passed him a handkerchief. His sister looked with red and puffy eyes and only then, Ayato could see her sad face clearly as before. As he wiped her tears, he stole a glance at Thoma whose concern and sympathy were etched on his now clear face. But he soon noticed the numerous webs all over his room with some attached to Ayaka and Thoma. As like in the morning, Ayato contemplated this new development calmly. It won't do to show his weakness. Ayaka and Thoma didn't seem to notice the webs around them so it should be fine, for now. He kissed Ayaka on the forehead and dismissed Thoma for the night. Driven by curiosity, he touched one of the strands closest to him. There was some vibration but nothing more. With a huff, he resumed his plan to stay up all night and finish reading the remaining pile of documents, but his eyes betrayed him. He woke up to see the silver flimsy strings were still there.
They were still present when he participated in numerous meetings with other clan heads in the Yashiro Commission. It took more effort to recognize their faces, so Ayato stopped doing so. One thing he learned from his overworked father was that Ayato’s time and energy were finite. Therefore, he only persevered to recognize and remember the faces of people he trusted and cared for like Ayaka, Furuta, and Thoma. The excluded ones were reduced to a rabble of faceless chess pieces for him to use or eliminate. During his daily dealings, some of his attention was preoccupied with the more interesting silver webs connecting said rabble.
The webs were so messy but beautiful at the same time.
It was only after his mother’s funeral that Ayato discovered that the webs were an alien language that only he could see and decipher. He prided himself to be a fast learner but even he was surprised by the ease of him reading each strand and the in-betweens to dig up helpful information. He thought analyzing facial expressions and body language were enough to earn him an advantage during negotiations with other greedy rivals, but the webs revealed so much more. Their hidden weakness, their real emotional states, and their ties to other influential persons of interest. Ayato did not hesitate to exploit them thoroughly to triumph over his foes. Though he doubted that that was the only function of these webs. The now-established Yashiro Commissioner wanted to do more.
There were a few hiccups in manipulating the webs to his bidding. The webs only helped him to give them suggestions rather than outright instructions. The latter was easily resisted by the target (he tried to make Thoma stumble during lunch but the recently hired housekeeper unknowingly shook the string off). The webs would not respond if he tried to change their positions. He could only read them.
Then he learned to manifest his webs, beautiful silver-blue lines that sprung from his fingers and wrists one morning after a successful night shutting down marriage proposals for Ayaka, at least for now. These webs were ones he could move according to his will, the control was similar to the control over his Vision. This came with new challenges. He still could not affect a person's actions or movement directly. Moreover, in a public setting like a banquet or a meeting, there were too many interconnected connections among the attendees to a point where Ayato could be confused and overwhelmed, leaving him with a pounding headache. He took his time in getting used to the sensation. Eventually, he was able to focus on the highest priority of information or suggestion he wanted to take or give. Over the months, with his negotiation skills, political maneuvering, mastery of his Hydro vision, and elegantly woven webs, Kamisato Ayato solidified his position as the Yashiro Commissioner, much to the other clans' apprehension and fear.
The webs were looking neater.
Unfortunately, his achievements did not deter the coming and going of assassins. The Shuumatsuban did well to dispose of them but one night, one assassin, in particular, came too close to his dear sister's chambers. This one was caught and dealt with by the leader of the Shuumatsuban himself. The culprit, alone in an underground cell, stilled himself when Ayato passed through the iron door. The assassin had heard all about the young Commissioner's exploits that earned him the reputation of a sly fox. The intel was wrong. The way those dark violet eyes bearing down on him and the feeling of tightening ropes (or were those webs?) binding him, the captured man swore that Kamisato Ayato reminded him of the legendary jorugumo itself.
Meanwhile, the brother of Kamisato Ayaka took his time scrutinizing the layer of webs connected to the unlucky assassin. There was no need to glean any information about his origins and associations. The Shuumatusban had done it for him so quickly, maybe hoping that the swift delivery would alleviate his ire over the almost-successful attempt on his beloved sister. He chuckled at the thought. The one who should be worried was himself. He was getting complacent. Reading the webs and subtly manipulating the spread of information was not enough. To better protect his family, Ayato needed to do more, and he was blessed to acquire a perfect test subject.
Ayato flexed his hands and for the first time since he could see the strings, he pulled on them with full intent and willpower. It was an educational process. He learned where the best places to attach his webs e, how much force was needed for certain actions to be subtle or obvious, and where to inflict pain or pleasure. With a wave of his hands, he could clamp the man's mouth shut before his screams from having his limbs twisted into many interesting angles penetrated the walls. By midnight, Ayato enjoyed the feeling of triumph over successfully controlling the man to dance. Throughout it all, the assassin could stare at him wide-eyed with terror. That expression of helplessness and hopelessness fueled Ayato's curiosity to find out more about what he could do. By twilight, Ayato clenched his fist and his prey suffocated to death. He inspected the corpse's neck and was satisfied to see no outward markings of asphyxiation. After a quick change of clothes, the Yashiro Commissioner exited the secret hideout and ordered a Shuumatsuban member to dispose of the body.
Kamisato Ayato returned home to a worried Ayaka and a concerned Thoma. By that time, his exhaustion caught up with him. At the entrance, his sister was asking him too many questions and he could not think of a proper response (he was not ready for Ayaka to also look at him with fear if she knows). For the first time since their parents' death, Ayato snapped at his sister to leave him alone. He expected her to cry or to snap back. But she just walked away, with a glassy pair of dull silver eyes and steps so stiff, reminiscent of the dancing, now deceased, man. Thoma followed her but not without giving Ayato a reproachful look. That was ignored by Ayato who could only stare, with an overwhelming dread in his chest, at a new shiny web from his wrist to Ayaka's nape. He cut off the line and rushed back to his office.
Later during lunchtime, Ayaka stopped by his office with a plate of Sakura Mochi to accompany her apology. With a lump in his throat, he replied with his apology. His sister graced him with a fragile smile and without thinking, Ayato pulled her into a hug. He felt relieved beyond words when she reciprocated from how tight she held onto him. Before she left, he tried to dispel the remaining webs on her. To his frustration, a small number of them stubbornly stuck onto her clothes, her hands, her legs, and her hair. Thoma prepared a cup of chamomile tea for him but it did nothing to quell nausea rising from his stomach. His attempt to refocus on listening to Thoma's report on the household only made the sensation worse. There was a thick bundle of webs circling Thoma's throat and it was connected to Ayato's left hand like a leash. Many more were attached to Thoma's arms and shins. Ayato tried to wave it all away but the one on his housekeeper's neck stubbornly remained.
The webs were getting tighter.
But was it worth it if the webs would not spare those he wanted to protect?
Kamisato Ayato requested for Thoma to meet him after supper for an important conversation. Thoma agreed with no dazed look in his bright emerald eyes.
"Now that the situation in Inazuma is unclear, the trouble the Kamisato Clan faces will only increase. You are someone who can see what's at stake, so if you don't want to get involved, leave early."
Ayato held his breath, willing the strings to do nothing as he waited for his closest and only friend's answer.
"If I leave at this time, I will lose my loyalty and righteousness. Father has always taught me to be a loyal and righteous man... I would like to do my best to do my part for the young master and the young lady. You will certainly need me as a helper in the path you embark on in the future."
A Vision, bright red like a blaze, appeared beside him. A Pyro Vision. But Thoma was not finished, his green eyes lit with a growing inferno.
"If I may speak honestly milord, your generous offer brings me pain. Your family saved me. Ayaka befriended me. You protected me. All of you possess a kindness I think is rare to be found in this world. I won't let that go unrepaid. Even after you changed. Even after your words turned sharper and your schemes more dangerous. To me, you are still Kamisato Ayato, the boy who found me on the beach. Therefore, I vow to be anything that you or Ayaka required. A sword or a shield, anything. Any pain your enemies inflicted on you both, I will return it to them tenfold. May my everlasting blaze burn away your foes."
Ayato felt like he was sitting too close to a bonfire, the flames of ambition threatening to burn him. He would never forget this night as he watched the numerous webs on Thoma burned away from his passion alone. Despite the tingling pain of losing his webs, he sat still in awe over this display of devotion. When he woke up the next morning, Thoma greeted him with a smile and without a single web on him. Kamisato Ayato smiled back.