Breakfast was a peaceful ordeal. Ayaka was polite as ever, her pale face finally showing some color after knowing that both you and her brother were unharmed. When Ayato arrived in his black work suit, a silent agreement encouraged you both to not mention earlier. Every time you made eye contact, it felt like sharing a sinful secret. Poor Ayaka was completely thrown out of the loop.

Around you, servants waited for your move. It was rather odd how everyone in the Yashiro Commission could so easily stick to their routine despite the chaos last night.

You ate in silence. Your metal chopsticks clinking against the plate was the only sound.

Ayato approached you after breakfast.

"Your parents want to see you in an hour," he said shortly. "In my office."

"They've come to collect me," you said.

"What?"

"To go home, I mean. Thanks for letting me stay and spend the night."

"Oh, right," said Ayato, face strangely blank. "I forgot you don't reside here."

"Well, I was supposed to, so... just a habit."

"Right," Ayato repeated himself.

There was a pause of silence where you realized you wouldn't see him as often now that you were parting ways. You wondered if there would be any merit in telling him that you would miss him. Given your complicated history, it seemed absurd.

His eyes remained calm, but widened just a little. "My lady."

"So..."

"So."

"That was..." God no, you didn't want to talk about this. You didn't like to be bashful either. "Um, that was..."

Ayato nodded. "I'm assuming that was your first time."

You paused, letting your cheeks bloom, and then lowered your eyes as you played with your fingers. "I'm guessing it wasn't your first time," you said, unable to help yourself.

Light shifted in the window. The underside of Ayato's face was illuminated well in the reflection. He looked away awkwardly before sighing.

"No," he admitted honestly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to dishonor you."

You looked away. It hadn't been that he had dishonored you, but the thought of Ayato treating anyone else the same — with his hands and his divine hips all over them to show love instead of you — made you feel sick and discolored. You wanted to throw up in the nearest trash bin.

You bit down on your inner lip. You had never felt so jealous. It was childish to assume otherwise, you thought. Of course Ayato had experience; he was a son expected to sow his oats while you were tasked to remain untouched.

"If it helps," Ayato said slowly, almost afraid to upset you, "the ones before didn't mean anything to me. They were just passing by. They weren't... well, they weren't you."

Before you could say more, Ayato's advisers came in, promptly ignoring you as they lined up to ask for his opinion, his signature, and his final say in project decisions. Ayato handled it with scary ease as though he hadn't been in critical condition just the night before.

"I wish you wouldn't overwork yourself," you said as soon as the last person slid the door shut.

You felt like you owed it to him to be caring since he cared for you, but it didn't feel like a payment. It felt natural, like you were playing a song on an instrument that you thought you'd forgotten how to play. You thumbed through some papers he didn't use, just to have something to do. You felt like a preschooler waiting to be picked up by her parents.

Ayato shrugged as he set his pen down. "This is nothing new to me."

You raised your brows. "All the more reason for you to not overwork yourself," you pointed out.

"Ayaka already shoulders the burden, and I don't have a partner for these matters," he said. "Naturally, without one, I do it alone."

You pressed your mouth shut. It wasn't like you cared that much anyway. You weren't one to nose around in his business.

"Just try not to die young," you scoffed. "It would be a mess. And no one is forcing you to be alone."

"Better to be alone than with the wrong person," quipped Ayato. "I learned that from you, F/N."

You went silent and thumbed through his files more, willing yourself not to look at him. It was a reminder that it was your unforgiving nature that caused him to break up with you. You shouldn't have cared, but you did. You thought of him alone and you wanted to keep him company. You thought of him as sick and you wanted to help him get better. You thought of him with someone else and it made you want to crumble.

"Oh? Why so quiet now?"

"Please," you scoffed again, but with less malice. "I know when to be quiet. Perhaps you should learn that from me too."

Ayato laughed. A genuine laugh that made your insides flutter with pride knowing that you could invoke such a pure sound from him. You thought that you wouldn't mind a peaceful life like this, letting the boring days in his office pass by like falling leaves. It was almost like being friends again.

But you and Ayato were never meant to be just friends. From the moment you truly began to see it for what it was, you had wanted to be with him, maybe something more if you had the chance. And you blew it up with your hubris.

"What's this?"

You held up a draft letter.

From your dearest

From your friend,

"Ah," he said. Suddenly the long part of his hair fell perfectly across his face, covering his dusted cheeks from your vision. "It's nothing."

"It's nothing," you repeated mockingly. You scanned through the letter and saw the date was marked just last night. "You wrote me a letter."

"I was under the influence of medical incense last night," Ayato said. "And I was wondering if you were... unharmed. They didn't want me moving."

"You missed me."

Ayato's hands tightened around the edge of his desk. "I was only curious about your disposition."

You grinned at him, for once forgetting to cover your mouth with your fan. "You thought of me when you were high. I think that amounts to missing me."

"High is such a crude word," he sighed. But when you began to laugh, he exhaled with amusement. "Alright. Fine. I missed you. Is it wrong?"

"I just thought—you know, I thought I never really crossed your mind," you said. "With all your work."

"You were supposed to be my wife."

"Husbands don't always pay attention to their wives. I thought I was an afterthought."

"You never left my mind. I thought you'd noticed - everyone else did."

Your eyes met. In one look you felt as though you were conveying everything and nothing to him all at once.

Ayato shrugged nonchalantly. "I suppose you didn't think of me as much unless it was something I did wrong."

Ouch.

Before you could think of the next thing to say, someone knocked on the door. It slid open to reveal Thoma guiding your parents inside.

You jumped to your feet, as though you'd been caught in the middle of a crime scene. But your mother and father rushed at you, asking if you were okay and checking for any injuries. You tried to wave them off but couldn't.

"Ronins!" your mother began to fan herself. "Goodness god, ronins after my child! Chisato's first action as commissioner will be to punish the Tenryou Commission."

"Chisato came back?"

"Don't be disappointed, F/N," said your father. "You won't have to worry about those responsibilities. We just want to see you safe and well-cared for."

"The Yashiro Commission did exactly that," you said.

It was the wrong thing to say because the air turned taut. Your father turned to Ayato, who was standing at his desk with a stony face, and pointed a finger at him in fury.

"You endangered my daughter," he said. "My only child, do you hear me?"

"Father," you tried. "He didn't do anything."

You were ignored and your father went on. "It was your role to marry her and you caused a scandal that could tip the scale of the Tri-Commission. What were you thinking?"

Ayato showed no signs of emotion. "A lapse of judgment."

"Father, it was my fault!" your voice rose. "I told him I didn't want to marry him and he tried to end it for my sake!"

"Worry not, dear," your father turned from you back to Ayato. "You won't ever have to marry this man."

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Your mother seemed like she was holding back tears. "We should have listened to you when you were miserable from the start. Chisato told us that you hated him."

Ayato gave you a strange look. Something like betrayal but he said nothing.

"For the rest of her life, you will honor my daughter, do you understand? The disgrace you have thrown her into is impalpable." Your father pressed a thumb to his nose bridge. "Archons, you are nothing like your father at all."

Something akin to anger and hurt rose on Ayato's face but he did nothing about it. After an awkward silence, your mother spoke.

"There are other men who want your hand," she offered gently. "Good, faithful men. Handsome, too. We can say that the ordeal was that one challenged Lord Kamisato for your hand in a duel and won. That's why there was an uproar in the forest."

You yanked your sleeve away, disgusted. "Mother, I am a fully grown adult. I'm not a trophy!"

You were ignored again. Your father began to nod, seeing sense in your mother's idea.

"You can't make me," you said rebelliously. "I refuse to marry a stranger."

"It's not for you to decide," your mother finally snapped, annoyed by your disobedience. "You cannot be a spinster, F/N. The Kanjou Commission will not allow it. It's your duty. You risked not just our family, but our entire commission with your selfishness."

At that, your jaw clenched shut like a dog reacting to orders. Your father pointed to the door, "Take her out. It's time to go home."

Your mother took you by the hands, more sorry than angry. "You've strayed down the wrong path, but it was as a result of Kamisato's influence – influences crueler and wilier than you could have been expected to handle. You're naive, yes. And a disappointment. But you're not finished."

Your parents' words were law. Even Ayato knew this. You were so full of shame that your mother led you out of the room with little resistance. Ayaka and Thoma were waiting for you in the foyer and stood as soon as they saw you coming. At the cross look on your mother's face, they barely got to say goodbye.

"Mother, please," you said, just as she began to tug you through the garden and out the gate. "I love him."

"Since when is anything about love?" Your mother let go of you and began to massage her temple. "Silly girl, did you think that I allowed you to be acquainted with him for love? That I married for love?"

"It's Kamisato Ayato, Mother!" you burst out. "What more could you want? He's the creme of the crop in Inazuma!"

"That's exactly why he's so dangerous, F/N. He's too much of a nuisance. You know this well. Inazuma already hated you enough, if they find out about your connection to stupid Chisato's elopement, you're absolutely done for. I want to see you with someone who won't manipulate you into harm."

"He's never been so cruel to me, Mother."

Your mother leaned towards you sternly, like a professor disciplining a student.

"Daughter, can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that?"

When you couldn't reply, she nodded with satisfaction as if the matter was closed.

"There you have it," she said. "Get in the carriage, daughter of the Hiragii Clan. Now."

You took a deep breath. You glanced at the estate, half-expecting Ayato to come out, to do what exactly you weren't sure, but something. Perhaps to fight for you. If he really loved you. But he didn't, he was a commissioner before everything and knew when the right time to act out was, and it was not now. You didn't even get to say goodbye, or ask if you could see him just one more time.

Alone again.

You were to marry someone else as soon as possible, to supposedly save you from any form of public backlash or opposition. And it was not going to be Kamisato Ayato. The regret swallowed you and chewed you up until you were nothing but a spat of mess. A pretty, porcelain doll for whoever would want you next. It was just your luck that you had fallen for the one person that your entire family hated with a colloquial passion. It was like a flip had been switched, the feelings of your failed engagement reversed.

As soon as you were back in Ritou, you wept bitterly for all that was yet to come.