Ayato Kamisato Imagines - Tumblr Posts

ꕤ 50. i think i ruined your PJs (ღ)

tw: none! :') / wc: 1.7k

you stare at your phonescreen, watching it vibrate on the kitchen counter. your hands sweat, and your heart races, as you hesitate to answer his call, contemplating about what to say.

a door slams and thoma appears in front of you in an instant. paper bags of fast food left on the dining table. "what are you doing?" he says, eyeing the phone before staring back at you. "answer it al—"

the phone stops ringing, ayato's caller ID disappears, and it returns to your lock screen. the panic you feel is indescribable, and you defeatedly think of calling him back and saying sorry for being unable to answer his call the first time.

ayaka lets out a pained groan. "you both are absolutely impossible! why didn't you answer it?!"

"i was nervous! i don't know what to say—"

"just answer it already!" thoma exclaims with a frustrated expression similar to ayaka's.

you wanted to pull your hair. why can't you just woman up and answer it?! you grab your phone off the counter, irritated at yourself, as you snap back at thoma.

"well, i can't anymore. it stopped ringing!"

as if on cue, the phone lights up, vibrating in your hands as your heart drops once again at the sight of ayato's caller ID. thoma audibly gasps and hurriedly rounds the kitchen counter to grab your shoulders. "answer it! now!"

"alright!" you push his hands away before clearing your throat, trying to level your voice so he won't find out that you were 100% freaking out at his sudden call.

"hello?" you speak into the phone. after a few seconds, when no one answers, you hesitantly say. "…ayato?"

no one is speaking on the other end, you can't even detect faint breathing. you pull the phone away from your ear, checking to see if the call is still ongoing, and the increasing seconds displayed on your lock screen confirm that it is. why isn't he speaking? should i not have answered?

faintly, you hear thoma and ayaka's enthusiastic "what's he saying?" behind you, but you stay silent, waiting for him. you open your mouth, wanting to address the person on the other line once again, when—

"hey."

his voice sounds defeated as if he's been crying for hours. you knew he wasn't in a good state right now from the voice alone.

your cheeks heat up, and you grip the phone harder. "hey," you answer stupidly, dazed and running on autopilot as you space out. every fiber and molecule of your being on edge as you give ayato your full attention.

you bite your lips, wanting to say a certain something to him after going weeks and weeks of not speaking to him. however, you held yourself back.

"i was thinking," ayato starts. "maybe you'd like to talk? you know… about everything?"

a small smile appears on your face, and you unconsciously nod even if he won't see you.

"i'd love to."

—

"are you really sure you guys don't wanna come up with me?" you ask ayaka, who sits behind the wheel in her white lexus and thoma in the back seat. you three are at the parking lot of the hotel ayato told you where he was staying.

he initially asked where you were so he could come to you, but after thorough persuasion, he relented on you going to him instead.

ayaka takes off her seat belt. "we're sure. he only asked to see you."

"just update us about how he's been. we'll wait for you here." thoma says.

you nod, stepping out of the car and walking toward the elevator. you met eyes with a woman at the front desk. she bows to you, a customer-service smile on her face, as she approaches you. ayato says he'd ring the front desk, so you can just come straight to his suite. the woman follows you to the elevator and taps the key card into a scanner before pressing a certain floor. whether or not she recognizes you, she doesn't say nor make it noticeable as she turns her heel back to the front desk.

you chew on your bottom lip, emotions running at an all-time high. you don't even notice the popping sensation in your ears as the floors get higher, your mind preoccupied with what you'll say to him, how you'll act. after all, the last proper conversation you had with him was back at their hospital's VIP room—which is weeks ago, give or take, and it did not even end well.

the elevator dings! and the doors open, sealing your fate.

there were only three rooms on this floor, and ayato instructed you to make two lefts to get to his room at the end of the hallway. the carpet is spotless, and your dirty white sneakers look so out of place as you make your way to his suite. just as you raise your hand to ring the doorbell, the door swings open, and there stands before you in all his glory—

"ayato," you say, dumbstruck. you don't notice how he is in mismatched silk pajamas, nor how a few of his hair stands on weird angles; you see his already pale skin that looks paler than usual and the bags under his tired eyes.

"yn—hey," he says, just as dazed as you. as if he can't believe you're actually standing before him right now. "uhm, come in."

the first thing you see is the thick white curtains hiding the floor-to-ceiling windows, blocking out the skies' magnificent orange and yellow hues as the sun has begun to set. the suite looked much like any other hotel room, only it looked fancier and more luxurious with its white marble accents paired with wooden furniture. the living room is well-lit, and from where you're standing, the sliding door to the bedroom is open, allowing you a slight peak.

you see a leather bag open on the lamp desk, chargers, and other necessities placed haphazardly around it. one of his carry-on is sprawled open on the floor behind the bed, while the rest is zipped shut at the far corner of the room, looking untouched.

"so—"

"yn—"

you both speak at the same time. he meets your eyes sheepishly, letting out a small laugh, a hand rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly. "ladies first," he insists, and you don't argue.

"when did you fly back? seems to me you've been here for a few days now," you say, looking around. "i thought for sure you were still in another country."

"oh, i flew back a day after the wedding."

you nodded understandingly.

silence surrounds you both until ayato breaks it.

"would you like anything to drink or eat? i can order room service."

you smile, "a glass of water would be fine."

"alright, take a seat."

so you settle yourself on the plush sofa as he disappears in the kitchen for a few minutes before coming back to place your water on the low coffee table. you expected him to sit nearer to you, however he sits on the sofa across from you, and a frown tugs at your lips until you remember he's just being cautious. you guys did end on a bad note…

when your eyes meet, he shoots you a small smile as he nods. giving you the opportunity to speak first.

"well, i wanna start by saying i'm sorry," you interlace your fingers together on your lap. "for deceiving you. you definitely did not deserve that, i just got so scared—that i'd lose ayaka, and what your reaction would be if you found out… which you did, still."

ayato hums. "i understand your point, with ayaka. however i'm still quite hurt with our dates, as i did put my utmost time and effort into them," a solemn tone takes over his voice, and you can feel your heart breaking. "i would've accepted a proper rejection. i know how to respect a woman's decision."

"no." you answer in a heartbeat. "look, i know sabotaging our dates can possibly come off as me not reciprocating your feelings but that was just me making bad decisions."

ayato blinks, dumb founded. it takes time for him to properly start speaking. "i'm afraid i'm not following…?"

you sigh, not really knowing what to say—well, technically, you knew what to say, you just didn't know how.

well, might as well bite the bullet and blurt it out.

"i like you, ayato. i like you so much, even if i know i don't deserve you. because… because…" you didn't know you were crying, attention focused on the man in front of you to even notice the wetness of your cheeks.

your throat feels clogged up, and you choke on your words, unable to carry their weight. "i know how much i hurt you. i lied to you and didn't even stop to think about what you could've felt, i completely disregarded your efforts, and i was selfish. so i get it, when you told… told me that you shouldn't have liked me because i wouldn't… wouldn't like someone like me either —"

his scent engulfs you whole as he pulls you into an embrace. you feel a slight tremble in his hands as he firmly holds onto you, almost as if making it a confirmation if you truly were in between his arms. you break down in front of someone for the first time in weeks, your mind playing flashbacks of how you had to stifle your crying in the bathroom so ayaka won't hear.

it was as if a dam broke, and you couldn't stop your tears from cascading down your cheeks. you didn't know what you were crying about — you can't exactly pinpoint if it was because of this concrete fear of nearly losing ayato, of the harsh criticisms of the public, or you were just so overjoyed to be in his arms without having to worry about anyone or anything.

despite all the snot and tears you're probably getting on his expensive pajamas, ayato holds you tight, gently rocking you back and forth because he knew, he just knew, that his silent presence can comfort you more than his words at that exact moment.

after you have calmed down, resorting to small sniffles every now and then, did you decide to pull away. not completely, just enough to meet his gentle eyes. he smiles, tilting his head. "do you feel better?"

you nod slightly, shame suddenly washing over you.

"i'm sorry, i think i ruined your PJs."

"oh, these?" he shrugs his shoulder, laughing. "i have ten more sets of these, and you can cry on each and every single one of them if you want to."

LOWKEY » previous : masterlist : next

a kamisato ayato social media au

summary — it was only recently you found out kamisato ayaka was, in fact, not an only child after all! seeing ayato for the first time gave you the severest case of the butterflies but according to ayaka, he’s off limits, especially to you as her most treasured friend. well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?

notes — the end lol jk

🏷 i. @rinrinchin @nejibot @viiolettee @katsumikumo @starryeyedkoko @xingqiusliegee @boxdisappeared @lovelyycherries @love6cks @kiyowoir @luvvmeilin @blackberri-jelli @moonlightbqe @kazooms @tricethecharm @lynnforever @kaedear @xiaoisahawtie @crowbird @apotatouwu @xinii @euryrue @aequha​@nuttytani @plinkuro @aixaingela @milesluvrrad @windasteriaa @cherrytomato2 @zannivrs @eishtar @wccycc @ceylestia @sweet-almonds @queenaveryrules @veyu002 @ukinya @adeptusx @x-xxiaos @loveyoutothestars @ssalamanderr

secret lover?

ft. kamisato ayato.

synopsis being in a secret relationship with highschool!ayato.

a tease.

the biggest tease.

he kicks your chair. like you know when you’re sitting in front of a kid and they just begin kicking your chair or whatever? yeah. he does that and it’s so frustrating but that’s what makes him more entertained

your frustration entertains him

he has the time of his life whenever he gets asked questions about his love life

"ayato, are you single?" “oh? i’d love to answer that but unfortunately i sense a dark aura surrounding this area. see you.”

because of how attractive he is, this dude gets flirted with a LOT. and obviously that makes you jealous because duh who wouldn’t be jealous if their boyfriend the literal kamisato ayato got flirted with??

which leads to make out sessions in either empty classrooms, the back of the school, the roof or the janitors room 🤩

"look at you panting.. seriously, you got this riled up because a nobody flirted with me? you know i belong to you, love.”

though, if sometimes, just sometimes when you both go a bit too far than expected, he’ll help you look appropriate before your next class or whatever

you held onto ayato's shoulder for support as he backed you up against the desk of an empty classroom, hands freely roaming each and every part of your body as his tongue explored yours.

breaking the kiss, ayato doesn’t miss the flash of disappointment that crosses your eyes before admiring your flustered expression. he bends a bit lower and moves closer to your sensitive area.

"ayato, we're in a class-"

"5 minutes until the next class begins, my love. in the meantime, let me treat you the way those nobodies want to be treated."

yeahhh,, better have some concealer or foundation with you at all times !!

people sometimes grow suspicious when it comes to you both, because he teases you all the time, alone or in front of people while you just yell at him

whenever roaming the hallways, he always has his hand on your lower back so he doesn’t lose you, sometimes when he’s feeling a bit bolder he wraps it around your waist to which you smack his arm for doing so

he also gives you his gloves, beanie, scarf, etc if you’re feeling cold he makes fun of you first though

he also buys you food or drinks, whatever you want. just say the word and he’ll purchase. don’t try to hide the fact you’re not hungry from him, because trust me. he knows.

he also waits outside all your classes to walk you to your next one or walk you home. yeah. he’s been doing it before he even asked you out.

this dude ditches his friends for you 😭 he’s so whipped istg

honestly, he probably doesn’t care if people begin piecing the puzzle together and realising that you both have something going on. instead, it makes him have a sense of pride that he managed to pull someone who he considers to be way out of his league.

ayaka is basically the only person that knows about what you two have, though it’s not because she was told by the either of you, it was because she saw the way her brother acted towards you. it instantly clicked.

"i’ll see you, ayaka." you waved goodbye before walking towards the door.

the white haired girl stared as her brother placed his hand on top of your head and stared at you with what she considered to be the softest look he’s ever given to anyone else besides her.

speaking honestly, she knew that you both were together. i mean, c’mon. that’s literally her brother. she’s been in his room many times and has seen the printed photos and polaroids of the dates you guys have been on along with other memories created stuck on his wall.

though, the young kamisato never brought it up in front of her brother, she just watched from afar awaiting the day where ayato would be asking ayaka for advice in which ring to buy for you.

flawless night, forevermore

feat. ayato, baizhu, alhaitham, childe, kaveh, raiden ei ( separate )

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 they are so obviously in love with you

( or, in which i tie them to a taylor song i’ve been crazing over, but you don’t have to know the songs to read / understand )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, no other warnings

> part one / part two ( more characters )

KAMISATO AYATO. lover

His lips curled up with a fathomless fondness he did not even notice about himself. His ticklish gaze, his admiring eyes, his comforting silence—such a poor, poor man drowning in his hopelessness, falling love struck into the night.

Even atop the dewy grass that stained his carefully tailored clothes, he paid no mind to the mess as he preferred to hear you talk instead. The intelligence of a Kamisato was long forgone in the melody of your voice, and perhaps you had strum his heartstrings too much to the point he loses his senses. He forgets a lot of things about himself when he’s with you, perhaps at one point, even his own name.

Kamisato, the name that ties him to a lifetime of formality and not a single night of rest. A dreary lifetime that does not allow him to learn the wonders of love. But oh, how he loves you.

“I’ve always wanted one of those cute little tea tables,” you muttered into the cool winds under the glowing moon. Your finger absentmindedly traced an oval into the air, a motion that had his head following your invisible drawing. “We can sit together in the mornings and have tea before work.”

“Then we’ll get one,” Ayato affirmed. He failed to notice how his own grin had widened, simply as an automatic reaction from seeing your pleased smile at his response. “Little cushions for us to sit in, too,” he added on. “You know those round ones? We can have them in our favorite colors.”

Look at him, blushing over silly cushions.

There’s a dazzling haze in his eyes when he’s like this. It’s a spark that never runs out once ignited, for he has a history of rambling when he’s with you. “There is this porcelain tea set we can get, which has a pattern I know you’ll like,” he’ll say, further jumping to “And it comes in a set of four—we can always invite Ayaka and Thoma over to drink with us.” He’ll go on and on like this, fantasizing of a life where you lived together, happily ever after.

He’s imagined this for eons in his head. Such innocent-presenting ideas and remarks, but it’s obvious in the way he talks so fast. It’s ridiculously evident the more excited he gets as the night stretches on, that he’s been daydreaming of the moment you move in with him, so he may love you every day.

All he asks is to be forever yours, for as long as time permits.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

BAIZHU. sparks fly

It almost never rained in Liyue.

But his words were such a booming thunderstorm that no water droplet could ever compare, even amidst this cold, grey afternoon. And only when he finally blew you away like a thin stack of cards, did he feel a sharp sense of emptiness at the sight of you running off into the pouring rain.

Baizhu admitted that you were a burden to him. Boring, unintelligent, annoying—that you were a hindrance to be around. You were only a distraction to Qiqi, and more importantly, a bothersome presence to him.

It took all his willpower just to spit such venom from his tongue straight to your face—all his might just to convince you that seeing him is a bad idea. And yet, you still called him a liar.

“You mean none of those words,” you sharply inhaled via short, speechless breaths. He could tell you were breaking down from his hateful speech, but to his guilt, it was exactly what he wanted to see from you. “You’re just trying to drive me away again,” you spat out. You were trying to convince yourself: that fact alone was clear to him. But the longer he stayed quiet despite biting back the truth—biting back that he has fallen so immensely deep in love with you—you began to doubt yourself.

But the moment he watched your figure break down past this storm, he immediately crumbled with a sense of guilt much stronger than any curse he has ever wished upon himself.

Perhaps he was too harsh on you. Archons, perhaps he was too mean—this was exactly why he didn’t deserve you. You deserved better than such a sick, lowly man who could not even live for himself, instead binding his life to save others instead.

But still, even after all his own revelations and realization of his nonexistent self worth…

He was still a greedy, selfish man.

And that selfishness had him running right out of his door and into the pouring rain, not caring at how the sudden cold nipped and picked at his skin, or how the winds beat at his frail body. Not even the Archons could halt such a starvation for salvation—it was the only spark he had left to chase.

In this cold, dreary life—in this cold, dreary day alone—you still shone like the sun under the dim streetlights of Liyue upon this pale grey sky. His body still eased the moment you caught his eye, almost as if your gaze alone had suddenly removed every drop of sickness he self-injected into his own bloodstream, or as if you were the cure he was looking for all his life.

Such selfishness once again had his body fighting from collapsing when he desperately fell into your arms that held him so dearly. And the greed of mankind only snapped when found his lips settled so hopelessly against yours, clinging onto your kiss as if he would die tonight.

Truly, maybe he would. But for now, in your embrace, he feels the strongest he’s ever been since he sold his soul.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

ALHAITHAM. enchanted

Archons, he hated these events, though he had no choice but to attend. No one could ever allow the Acting Grand Sage, even if he held so much spite, to escape the demeaning eyes of Sumerean publicity.

Alhaitham held himself as an independent soul. But this formalwear, this clanging of champagne glasses, this suffocating air—were definitely not so independent nor free.

This hall of aspiring young scholars and old men, all in one exhibit for the sake of research and networking. Academics is what they acclaim, but the Acting Grand Sage may be too thick of a personality for them (if he had one at all). But the only thing keeping his eyes open from boredom, quite surprisingly a person, was you.

You, who looked young compared to these much older alumni and long-time scholars. And it was truly you, out of the many faces in this room, who he could not name.

Your eyes met from across the room. Such a sliver of a chance—his eyes whispered a curious glance from the opposite wall among this dreary sea of scholars. There was a spark graced by the Electro Archon, perhaps; or maybe even a gush of wind from the God of Anemo. But every sense of composure was lost when his body moved on its own, walking himself closer and closer just to meet you.

It begins with hello; it always does. It continues with quick remarks, with “I’ve never seen you before,” and with “Have we met?” And soon enough, he feels like he’s in school again. He feels a flutter he has not known in years, an urge to talk quicker than he can think. The crinkle at the corner of your eyes has him immersed in amazement. The sole fact that you can crack a smile at him; a smile that wasn’t fake politeness like all these scholars.

For some reason unbeknownst to him, that expression of yours alone had his feet glued to the floor, like you’ve trapped him in such an engaging conversation he desperately could not let go. It was a forcibly dreadful night—you turned it flawlessly enchanting in a way that you read to him like a book, all in which he could not put you down once he begins.

And once the event ends, and he is forced to leave you so soon, he watches you walk away with an expression that he himself could not even read.

Wonderstuck.

He would never notice the light tint on his face, staining his cheeks all the way home.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

CHILDE. cruel summer

Left foot, right foot, tiptoe, right foot—hold the counter, hold the wall, hold the rail all the way up the steps… He’s got this.

One step down the hall, another foot down, a third one until he finds a steady rhythm. The room is hazy, the walls are spinning. His head hurts and he feels like a baby taking his first steps, so helpless and unsteady that he almost wants to cry again from exasperated frustration alone. Why was this so hard? Did he really hate himself so much, that he would stagger his way home from the bar like this?

One hand on the door, turn the knob, and—

Ah. He dropped his keys so loudly on the floor.

You woke up with a start from the bedside, immediately turning to him wide-eyed in both starling surprise from the noise, and more importantly, concern. He didn’t mean to wake you. He hated feeling guilty, but it was the exact feeling that crept up his spine once he saw the devastated look on your face. Frenzied eyes and dark circles—clearly you had stayed up just to wait for him, too.

“Ajax,” you voiced—a tone full of worry and heavy exhaustion, God, he felt so horrible. “Oh, Ajax, come here.”

As much as he didn’t like it when you cared for him like this, he was not immune to the sounds of your calling. His shaky legs carried him immediately, as if the alcohol in his system was pulling him towards you, too. “I’m fine,” he barely stuttered out. It was a claim he had to make immediately, a sign he was desperate to reassure you.

Your eyes grew heavier, though he did not know if they were lidded from concern or from sleepiness. Either way, he practically melted from the touch of your palms resting against his cheeks. So warm, but a much more pleasant warmth than the burning summer air that he just walked in, all the way home with a liquor-dazed mind.

“Have you been crying…?” Ah, and that was why your eyes were narrow—they were squinting at the sorry stains of tears that lined his cheeks. He forgot to wipe them, it seemed. It was almost laughable.

“No, just sweat from the heat.”

Crying over you… He’d never let you know that. To cry, to bleed, to die—you would never be the first person he tells.

“You reek of liquor…” Quite disgustingly so, he thinks. And yet, you still held his face so fondly, moving his head in such a gentle manner as you swiped his tear stains with the pads of your thumbs.

He stayed silent. He had no answer to this one.

“I love you,” he mutters, though it’s a confession nevertheless. And he says it so sadly—so miserably that you couldn’t help but sigh. He hates it, too. He hates it when you sigh. Because when you sigh, it means you’ll just let it go; No matter how many lies he tells, or how many times he cries, or how many secrets he keeps, you’ll still accept him like always.

“I love you, too.” And that was the worst line he’s ever heard.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

KAVEH. foolish ones

“Oh, woe is me…” Loves me, loves me not, loves me… “Did you happen to see anything in the mailbox?”

His roommate stared. “Go check it yourself.”

Kaveh heavily sighed. He couldn’t; He physically could not bear to do it. It’s not that he was lazy to get up, no. The real issue was the genuine grief he would feel when he opened the mailbox, only to see nothing inside. No special gifts, no romantic letters, and absolutely no confessions of love signed with your name.

It was embarrassing, really. To feel this dramatic and obsessed with words of admiration from you—oh, especially when Alhaitham found out about this whole lovesick ordeal. But he could not help his mind from just imagining it: the reflection of himself in your eyes as you finally confess your feelings of passion and love for him (feelings that didn’t exist, feelings he merely imagined you having, all so pathetically).

But he’s so weird, and he’s so terrible. To imagine a fabled life with you when you probably did not think about him this same way. How foolish. Did you daydream about him like he daydreamed about you every night before he slept? Did you think about him like he thought about you every time he sees your favorite color in the passing? Did you wait at your mailbox like he waited for any letters from you? No. No, you didn’t.

And he’s cried, quite humiliatingly. He’s cried that the perfect life he could picture himself having with you at his side would never be a reality. He’s cried a downpour of tears, simply because he allowed himself to be so caught up in a delusion that was so sick of him to conjure up.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

“So sorry Kaveh, I already have plans…”

Plans with someone else. No wonder you hadn’t written him any messages, or contacted him in a while. That… was not the scenes he had in his head. His imaginations, his hopes, his dreams—they did not have someone else in them. For someone he was so hopelessly in love with, he felt so much hurt. A foolish lesson to be learned by a foolish romantic.

In the end, he’d just be talking himself to sleep again. He’d just smile at the sight of you flourishing. Without him, your world will go on turning. A world full of reciprocated love and devotion, one that he would never know.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

RAIDEN EI. you belong with me

The Raiden Shogun was self-destructive. No more than a few people knew of such a fact, but she was certainly one of them.

Because if she cared for her own wellbeing, truly, then she would not fall for selfish desires. Nor, would she be here now, sitting next to you outside a sliding screen in her private gardens of Tenshukaku, sipping your favorite tea and hearing your sweet voice ramble about something so unpleasant to her ears. If she prioritized her own emotions, then maybe she’d be living in blissful ignorance right now instead of listening to your woes over a lover… A lover that was not her.

“And then, she teases me,” you complained, though it was clear you hated it. You didn’t like whining about your partner, which was a good thing—but it made Ei feel sick, because it meant you really loved that woman. “I know she does that all the time, and I just need to get used to it,” you continued, “but sometimes, it gets too much, and she still doesn’t stop.”

But I wouldn’t do that to you, the archon thinks to herself. And suddenly, the tea isn’t as appetizing anymore, because her own words felt drilled onto her tongue, forever forbidden to speak aloud.

“Miko… Has always been like that,” Ei quietly admits instead. She doesn’t want to insult your lover, for that same person was also her own friend. She wanted to be supportive, but it was impossible when she was so in love with you, that she spent every second of each passing day just wishing she was in Miko’s place instead.

“Yeah… But—still, I mean…” You sighed, coming to a loss for words to describe the pink haired shrine maiden. “Is it really so hard to ask just for her to understand how I’m feeling…?” you whined in what seemed like genuine distress. Your face sunk into your hands, and it took all of Ei’s willpower just to keep her respective distance from a romantically taken friend.

But I understand how you feel, Ei once again thinks. She feels so dirty of a friend for comparing herself like this. I understand you better than she will ever.

“Ei…” you muttered. She almost chokes from the way you say her name. “What should I do…?”

Be with me, instead. “Don’t cry over something, or someone, you cannot control. It’s possible your personalities are just not fit for each other, you know.”

“But I love her, Ei…”

Ouch.

She clears her throat, recovering from sharp breath of air she just inhaled. A part of her just broke in that moment, and it was so obvious, too—her expression quickly changed, her body became stiff, her balance suddenly shifted, and yet…

You noticed none of it. Your head was too clouded over love for another woman that was not her; So clouded, in fact, you did not notice the way Ei almost began to tremble. The misery you carried only crafted tenfold for the archon, eternally unbeknownst to you.

But you don’t belong to her, anyways. So why was she crying?