The sentence, the prompt, the attitude of the voice. You could shut your eyes and suddenly you'd be taken back to the Grand Narukami Shrine, so many years ago, pink sakura falling in your hair as you'd whisper your prayers to the Electro Archon. Being prodded by your mother to meet the children from the Yashiro Commission, and suddenly you were bowing in front of the Kamisato siblings, and they were doing the same. It might have started there.

Maybe it started when a purple onikabuto crawled from his pocket, and he hastily pushed it back in. You were — and there was no other word to describe it — thoroughly disgusted. Bugs were not encouraged pets in your household. It was a mystery as to why the Yashiro Commission allowed it. You could grow to like him, though. From the light cornflower blue of his hair to the little mole at the corner of his mouth. Then, within weeks, you could learn to dislike him and you'd stay acquaintances forever.

Maybe it started when he began frequenting his attention on you every time you'd cross paths. When your family would dine at the Komore Teahouse, and he coincidentally happened to be there with his mother and sister, and approach you, the color of his kimono the same shade of indigo as his eyes, and he'd order tea for both you and him. Passive-aggressively, much like your two commissions.

Back then, it was a well-known fact that the Yashiro Commission was falling apart. Who better the savior than their eldest son, Ayato? He was a master in his own right, a politician who led with tenacity. In the meeting rooms of Tenshukaku, he'd effectively turn down the suggestions of the Kanjou Commission.

You didn't know why, but a small part of you resented him for it.

And what irked you all the more, was that he had taken a particular interest in you. Did it start then? Perhaps it was during one of the Shogunate's meetings in Tenshukaku, and you'd pass the time by playing with one of the cats that lounged around the gardens, Ayaka and Ayato with you, and sometimes his touch spread fire on your skin that you didn't try to push away.

You didn't remember when you realized you'd liked him, all you knew was his face, his smile, his laughter growing up. It wasn't often you'd see kids your age other than Chisato. Soon enough it was hot gossip in the Shogunate. People eyed you to see if you would ever go any further. Would you cause a scandal? Announce marriage? Neither of you were ill-intended for that. Every moment he was with you, you felt a rushing in your throat, something so big and great that you couldn't put it into words.

But no matter who you were when you'd cross paths, you were ultimately from different worlds. Maybe that was why it was easy to hate him when he cut you off.

So why was he here now, taking your hand in marriage?

"Is it alright with you?" your mother asked, breaking your train of thought. You knew it wasn't a question. It was a plea, a command.

"Of course, it's alright with me," you answered after a while, lips shifting as you swallowed back what you really wanted to say. "It is our duty, I suppose."

"Right, duty," Ayato repeated, the eye contact between you still refusing to break as you agreed to tie yourselves together for life. It was just business. Nothing personal. That was how it worked with people of your status.

Nobility didn't marry for love, they married for alliances, for profit. Like one of the many contracts Rex Lapis issued to his warriors, this was merely a business transaction. If he were anyone else, you wouldn't feel anything about this, but it was Ayato. This was the man you had once played with in the Kamisato Estate, the man who'd once brought light into your world, the man you'd once confided in, and it was fitting that he'd also be the man you'd marry, but it was all in the past.

Your mother seemed relieved. She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "We'll leave you two to it," she said before they both exited the room. "Please see to it that the Kanjou Commission sees you together, it will quell the... malevolent rumors."

The doors slid shut, leaving you in silence.

Sunlight pouring into the room gave the tatami mats a warm glow. The long sleeves of your kimono swished as you instinctively wrapped an arm around yourself, holding the fan to cover your mouth as your eyes narrowed in dislike. Ayato chuckled under his breath.

"You look well, Your Grace," he said.

"As do you."

"I'm surprised how obedient you were when your mother called for your opinion," he said. "Last I checked, you were about as pliant as a sea rock."

"Why would you agree to marry me? We can't even stand to be in the same room together."

"Yes, well, I only agreed to marry you because you said that you'd agree to marry me if I agreed to marry you—"

"Don't put words in my mouth," you hissed, snapping the fan shut. "I never thought you'd stoop so low as to suggest that day."

"I will behave as long as you do," he said smoothly. "Besides, your people will want to see us, do they not?"

You bit back your tongue. "So they will."

"Will you give me the pleasure? I swear I have no germs."

"You can't have what you already are," you said as you reluctantly took his arm. "I take it you wish my hands were gloved so as to not stain your divine robes?"

"Maybe if you weren't frowning so much you'd make for a better portrait," he shot back nastily as he led you outside. "Don't look so disappointed, people are staring at us."

Sure enough, the Kanjou officers and workers idling by were whispering quietly and occasionally looking in your direction. Perfect. Just what you needed to make an already uncomfortable situation worse. No doubt your mother had gossiped to the rest of the family and news spread like wildfire. It wasn't going to be long until the entire nation knew you were engaged.

"You should smile," Ayato said from the corner of his mouth. "Courting couples should look happy with each other."

"This is not an arrangement of courting, as we are already engaged," you pointed out. "And even if it was, you're the last person I'd ever accept courtship from."

"And you'd be the last person I'd ever think to court."

He tactically gave you a natural-looking smile as you passed by some shrine maidens. They giggled and loudly shushed each other as they snuck peeks at the two of you. Undoubtedly, the older maids told them about how dear you and Ayato were to each other when you were teenagers, when he was a regular guest at your house and vice versa. This whole ordeal must have seemed incredibly romantic to them. You pointed your chin away and hid your face behind your fan, unwilling to let him close. Ayato chuckled again.

"What, hoping you'll charm some girls from my Commission?" you asked, irritated. "Do take your pick, My Lord, we have a lot of pretty ones here. It wouldn't be the first time."

Ayato looked amused, which infuriated you. "Well, it's customary for the one being courted to not seem too eager. Society might frown upon it."

"Well, don't we all hate displeasing society?" you muttered as the warmth of his skin radiated through his sleeves. It had been a while since you touched him like this, and it felt just as familiar as the day you'd done it for the last time.

You were well aware of all the eyes that lingered on you. You wanted to go to your room, kick this annoying man out of your house, your town, and forget that all of this had ever happened. That he had ever happened.

Sharded memories of rain and thunder began to crack through your mind and suddenly you could recall all the hurt, all the heartbreak you had once felt when you were young. You gritted your teeth and stared straight ahead. Ayato kept glancing at you every now and then, and you were certain that his eyes were full of disgust.

"We're supposed to pretend to talk, you know," he said. "For appearances."

"I have nothing of interest worth mentioning to you."

"Not even the weather? Ritou autumn is quite lovely."

"Lovely weather we're having," you said monotonously. "Ritou autumn is indeed lovely."

"It did rain a lot the last time I saw you," he commented. "It even rained on your face."

Yes, you vividly remembered the last time you'd seen each other. It rained on your kimono, and there had been hot tears of anger sliding down your cheekbones as Ayato stood in front of you, unmoving and frozen, unable to say apologies as he did the one thing that shattered your heart forever. How dare he treat that moment with such an insulting demeanor? It fueled hatred for his arrogance and insolence.

You glared at your fiancé. "You're a conceited ass." You sneered at him, but quickly fixed your composure. A noble person shouldn't have such an expression. "No, even a donkey is too good for you. You're dirt, Kamisato Ayato, the dirt that stains everything on this earth—"

"You forget yourself, Your Grace. That's no way to speak to your fiancé."

"Neither of us wants to be the other's fiancé."

And just like that, any sort of brief camaraderie you'd felt in the reunion you had together chipped away. Whatever magic that had once bonded your souls so strongly together had vanished and made way for nothing except loathing.

Ayato's jaw locked and he muttered, "There it is."

"What?"

"That hatred you carry for me," he said. "I nearly thought it'd disappeared, but it seems as though I thought wrong."

You gripped him tighter around the arm, fingers digging into his skin. "You haven't spoken to me in years," you reminded him. "You hurt my honor—"

"And you insulted my virtue."

"You did it first," you argued. "And you didn't speak to me for months after. How hard could it have been to write me a letter? It was Ayaka who informed me of your whereabouts."

"I seem to recall you telling me, and I quote, that you never wanted to see my face again," he whispered, reminding you of more things you didn't want to remember. "You told me to never speak of what happened between us, and I kept my word. Ever since then, we've despised one another, so forgive me if I assumed you'd burn the letter without reading it."

He paused to adjust your hand on his arm. Warmth was underneath his coat. You imagined he'd spent his free time sparring around with a sword, if he wasn't looking at his face in the mirror. He didn't look at you.

"You could have written to me, too."

"Perhaps, but I assumed if you wanted to say something, you would have," you said. "After all, it's the one being courted who shouldn't look too eager, right?"

"The silence is answer enough," he said, almost like a scoff. "No doubt about it. I'm no fool, F/N. Everyone has a limit, and when you reach yours, whatever we had will end."

"Good," you said hotly. "Then we agree on what sort of marriage this is going to be."

"We do," he answered. He sounded on edge. As unhappy as this arrangement made you, you were quite keen on seeing him unravel out of spite. It would satiate your petty self-satisfactory needs.

You were tempted to ask him why he agreed on marrying you if that was the case, considering that he was the most powerful man in his Commission. Unabashed shame ran through you when you wondered if he only did this out of pity. Perhaps no one else was willing to take the child from the dishonored faction of the Shogunate. Still, logically, tying the Kanjou Commission and the Yashiro Commission would benefit both in wealth and power, and was the best thing for either of them. It wouldn't be anything, and there would be no emotions involved at all.

And yet...

A small part of you wondered what would have happened if things had turned out differently on that day last year. All you could do now was put that aside and focus on what was in front of you now. That was all that was going to happen.

Twelve months. The engagement period would only last as long as a year, and then you could finally stop pretending and resign yourself to work as he went back to his usual business. Such was the life laid out for you. You would like to say it didn't faze you, but another voice in your head wondered if all these dull miseries were all there was until the end of your days.

You'd swear it now. You will never feel anything other than hatred for Kamisato Ayato.