#sorry guys its my fault his rerun got delayed my bad homie

[throwaway-yandere]

A Myriad of Fallen Leaves (Yandere!Ayato/Reader)

Unreliable synopsis: Reader chills around in a villa and decided to get some fresh air. A wacky continuation of Blind Obedience

Afab reader

Cw: Yandere themes. Drugging. Violence. Non-consensual touching. Please avoid this fic if you are sensitive to these subjects. Your mental health matters more than a deranged fanfic posted on the internet (This is probably not even as bad as other things posted out there, but better to be safe than sorry right?)

A/n: it's just a shorter sequel for those who asked lol. Shoutout to my friend for beta-reading this fic and thank you guys @venus-loving @lunnaeclipse @livingmyfantasy for requesting (i saw it dw your words mean a lot to me!!!). Sorry it’s late, life and college applications are messing with me lol.

-------------------------

Young Kamisato Ayato and (L/n) (Y/n) strolled down Ritou in the basking sunlight. It used to be a common occasion for the both of you to relax once in a while to distract the new Yashiro commissioner off his workload and undeniable pressure. You were supposed to master the basics of one of the Futsu School's signature arts but none of you had been able to master even a single slash of the sword work you were supposed to be so engrossed with. Every time you both tried to cross blades, the next slash cuts weaker than the last. There was no room for debate, and you both left to clear your heads. 

This was something Ayato was tremendously grateful for, after all, you’re a lot more casual when you’re beat.

At first, you were incredibly wary of him. There were little kind sentiments thrown around and his mysteries were more engaging. He stated that he is more than capable when asked about his expertise. When asked about his campaigns, he admitted to producing more than he was supposed to. There was only one thing you could be assured about, and that was his fondness for dogs. Which you first rejected as meaningless trivia until you promised to become his dog if he chose you over the other sword-master vying for the role.

Since then, he must have thought of you as an amusing individual; otherwise, you wouldn't be going around Ritou's square with your hands brushing against each other as you strolled side-by-side. With a flower Ayato tucked behind your ear, on top of that.

Ayato pursed his lips.

“Do you believe in true love?”

Ayato wasn't quite on the same scale as the rest of humanity in terms of receiving affection. In private, he had always voiced out endearingly naive questions about romantic relationships and thought it was a waste of time, effort, and an unfortunate cause of expenses. But he never once asked if love existed. You thought he was simply a lonely man who's jealous of what those without his status can afford easily. The possibility that he simply didn't know the wonders of love baffled you.

You snorted and covered your mouth with your spare hand. Ayato immediately fell into a small trance. It was the cutest thing he had ever heard, and he knew that the smile you covered was equally enchanting.

“Of course! Only sad folks think it ain’t real.” You added some distance between the two of you and squinted. A mischievous lilt of your voice set him straight. “Where’d this question even come from? Finally caught the love fever, My Lord?”

Ayato closed his eyes irritably. “Nonsense.”

“Hmm, hmm!” You hummed, unconvinced. You figured that Ayato wouldn’t ask such a suspicious question had he not experienced the emotion firsthand. “Why’d you ask, My Lord?”

“I...” Ayato coughed. “Was just curious. Nothing more to it.”

“Suuure.” You tried to sound indifferent as possible but Ayato still sensed your skepticism.

“Going forward...”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“Do... Do you think it’s possible for me to find true love?”

“W-What?!”

Your gaze was drawn to the maple tree that stood behind Ayato to avoid the almost predestined awkward eye contact with your boss. Ayato was the Kamisato Clan's figurehead and a member of the Tri-Commission. It hardly needs to be stated that obtaining that title can be detrimental to some romantic and platonic relationships. Frankly, you thought that a work-focused man like him wouldn’t complain about arranged marriages.

And you were wrong.

“Where...” You gulped. 

“Where there is true love... I think nothing should be allowed to stand in its way.”

“Oh?”

You didn't say anything after that, giving Ayato time to digest what you said. It was a non-answer, but it was the most appropriate response for someone in his position.

Ayato caught your implications, and in the most simplest way to articulate his emotions: he felt terrible. He cannot put his emotions into words, and even if he could Ayato wouldn’t say it out loud. He’s aware that he built a reputation for being the untouchable shadow puppeteering the Yashiro commission. He knows that doing so is necessary, but if he knew taking the role would inevitably strain his relationship with you hurts more than he initially estimated. Ayato would've hesitated.

And he has yet to experience a realization as to why he felt so awful about this.

“I’ll keep that in mind... thank you for your insight.”

You nodded sheepishly.

Ayato continued. “What do you do when you’re in love?”

 “E-excuse me?”

“Oh, was that too forward? My apologies.”

“N-No, not at all My Lord. I was just surprised.”

Ayato huffed. “I don’t know why you’d react so vehemently. The question was not a major logic leap from the previous one.”

“True, but you don’t normally ask these questions consecutively, you know? It’s kinda like hearing Kuki Shinobu inquire on how to become a shrine maiden.”

“So you think I’m a miserable fool who hates the idea of falling in love?”

Sort of.

You lightly smacked his shoulder. “Gah! My Lord stop asking questions that will get me fired!”

Ayato chuckled. “Sorry, I couldn’t refrain from teasing you.”

You pouted. 

“To answer your question, I guess when I’m in love I’ll often help them out as much as I can. I would cook and clean for them— I’d probably protect them and act domestic and loveable. Or something.”

“You perform the same actions at the Kamisato Estate regularly.” Ayato gasped and feigned fear. “Could it be that you view me in a romantic light, (Y/n)?”

Ayato joked, but he desperately wished that was the case.

Needless to say, it only added more salt to the wound when he saw you laugh uncontrollably over the idea.

“When Ushi flies, My Lord.” 

You tried your best to compose yourself in fear that you would offend him even more. “When Itto’s bull-cow-exorcist-creature flies, then maybe you have a shot in marrying me.”

Ayato faked a large scowl, but he was genuine for the most part.

“What a bold statement for someone who is meant to become my official retainer by the following week.”

“Hey! Occupations do not matter when it comes to true love!” You mused. “Love is patient, love is blind, and it will not care less about whose paperwork I’m organizing.”

‘Occupations do not matter’, yet you cannot even bring yourself to think the same in Ayato’s shoes. Was that not discriminatory on your part? He silently judged you. Ayato couldn’t accept the reality of how you hold yourself to a different standard simply because he held executive power. It was unfair.

Shouldn't he have the same chance as a homeless wanderer in finding true love?

“Plus, I have my standards, Ayato. You’re not exactly my type, not-that-there’s-anything-wrong-with-you-of-course.” You were a bit too quick to add the last part.

He breathed between his teeth, successfully hiding his bitterness. “And your preference is?”

 “The quiet starving artist.” You grinned, unaware of your effect on him. “The type who trusts their craft more than anything. The type who is also in tune with nature, his emotions, and those around him. The type who doesn’t expect anything in return and is just so thoughtful! A man like that could forget our wedding anniversary and I would still be so hopelessly in love.”

His heart was crushed like the maple leaf under his heel. Your ideal man sounded nothing like Ayato.

He shrugged, but make no mistake, he is in an unfathomable denial of the facts. Ayato’s throat was dry as he continued to banter lifelessly. “I also forget anniversaries.”

 “And you shouldn’t!” You resisted the urge to smack his head with the hilt of your sword. “You’re the commissioner now, ‘Lord Kamisato’! You could at least spare me the trouble of informing you that old man Kujou’s birthday is tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.” Ayato waved dismissively. “I cannot forget such a date.”

 “Looks like there’s some hope for you after all. Long live our beloved Yashiro commissioner.” You said sardonically.

“Whatever.” He shook his head with a candid smile. 

“If you believe true love is real, then I’ll take my beloved soon-to-be-retainer’s word for it.”

-----------

It had been a week since Ayato came back from his business trip.

Ayaka silently poured herself and her brother a cup of tea. It is not as if Ayaka doesn't mind Ayato's absence, but it is something she is too used to. However, even when he did return, she sensed that the estate remains hollow. She initially thought it was because Thoma scurried to help Ritou burn ‘a myriad of leaves’ loitered on the streets, but she still felt that some part was devoid of a sprightful presence. It took Ayaka a few moments to realize that what made the place a little less full than usual was another missing figure.

(L/n) (Y/n).

Around this time of day, you would've made yourself busy by "helping" Thoma out with washing the dishes. In all honesty, you help more with your mouth with a slew of emotional support, than your hands. You were a pleasant company to be around, and Ayaka knows that you are a valuable asset to her brother. More than Ayato dared to admit.

So, she simply assumed you still had some work to do outside.

"How was your business trip, Ayato?"

"It was alright. The deal got signed without a hitch. Lord Takayuki gave us a go signal on restoring the bridge." He gently grabbed his cup, but not without looking at its contents. It was not red; it was safe.

Ayato continued. "Say, Ayaka, have you done what I asked of you?"

She nodded.

"Yes, I made several readjustments to the stall order for the fest–"

"No, not that." Ayato chuckled. "I am pertaining to the teas we have in storage."

"Oh, you meant the teabags." Ayaka pondered. "Yes, I had them delivered at Watatsumi Island's post under Ogura Mio's name."

Ayato smiled. 

"Good, good."

"What is it for?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"Why did you order so many red ginseng teabags?" She frowned. "Is the tea here not up to your liking? I could ask the head maid for other recipes if you'd like. If I'm being honest, brother, the tea you ordered smells rather off. I'm not sure if it's healthy for you to consume."

"I'm aware that I am lacking expertise in cooking but you needn't be harsh about such criticism."

The two went silent as Ayaka processed his words. She gasped behind her fan, blushing slightly over the awkward situation.

"O-Oh! I wasn't aware that you made those teabags. I'm sorry. I wasn't teasing you–"

"Don't mention it. And besides, you're not wrong. It truly isn't healthy for human consumption."

Ayato is a master at omitting and misrepresenting information. His wording led her to believe that the teabags she sent were to dispose of her brother's brewing disasters. Perhaps General Gorou requested such culinary disasters so they might use them as fertilizers-- Celestia knows how much the island needs more crops. Ayaka had made another erroneous assumption from that alone.

Whatever the case, she dropped the subject.

Ayato grinned as he sipped his tea. He's not wrong, it isn't safe to consume, but it was meant to be that way. 

Who's to say that fact will stop him from feeding (Y/n) the very same poison every week?

"How is (Y/n) fairing?"

He set his cup on the table. The sound was louder than usual from his demeanor, and far from elegant. After she voiced the innocent question, Ayaka noticed her brother's brief and peculiar reaction. In that short second, her brother expressed a wide range of emotions. Before he gave her his trademark politician smile, he expressed astonishment, anxiety, and what appeared to be contempt.

Ayaka's eyebrows creased. Something is certainly off.

"She's faring well, as usual."

What a drab response. Whenever (Y/n) was in charge of a mission, he would often wax poetic about her eccentricities. Ayaka's ear would be ripped out over trivial matters such as (Y/n)'s muddied shoes scuffing the pavement or her endearing snorts and cackles. It's not like him to be concise when it comes to (Y/n) as a topic. 

"Is she on vacation?"

Ayato cannot lie and affirm that. If he did, Ayaka would try to visit her because she is also on her self-imposed social 'leave.'

"No. She's continuing her work."

"Where?"

Ayato took a deep breath. His eyes were piercing, and she had no idea what it meant. Nobody could ever be assured of what Ayato is thinking. Ayaka wanted to pull back from the conversation immediately. But she refused. She recognized her brother's tactics. Absolute silence is how he unnerves his petty enemies.

"Where is she?"

"Why do you ask?"

He started readjusting his gloves. Ayato's eyes trailed over his cuffs as if this was the least interesting conversation he had in a while. Yet again, Ayaka is wholly aware of what Ayato was doing. When he refuses to reveal the truth, he'll answer her questions with a question until it circles back to a conversation about her. If Ayato felt nice, it would be about her well-being, if not, well...

Let's just say this game of interrogation had always left Ayaka feeling drained.

"Is it so strange for me to be curious about her well-being? Brother I would like to remind you that it is no secret that I think (Y/n) is a very talented individual. It is to no one's surprise that I'm very interested in her."

"Ayaka do you find the lack of assistants troublesome? Should I order Thoma to look for suitable applicants? There are some notable talents suitable for the work in the Shuumatsu--" 

"Big brother, please stop trying to digress. You and I both know how your mind works-- more so than others. Please tell me where she is."

"I'm afraid I cannot indulge you at the moment, but please have faith that she is in good hands," Ayato said. "Bear in mind, she is under MY supervision."

He emphasized his power– his possession once more. It was the same way he claimed possession of (Y/n) in Kaedehara Kazuha's temporary residence days before.

"And you seem obsessed about ensuring that it stays that way."

The room turned silent.

She addressed the real elephant in the room. Even Ayaka didn't realize what she had done until she saw the look of genuinely pure shock and anger on her brother's face. That alone is concerning. Especially when the last time she had the misfortune of seeing it was when someone attempted to ultimately dishonor their parents' names.

"Ayaka."

"Yes, Ayato?"

"There are some things you cannot obtain from me. And there are things I will never let go."

By now, Ayaka caught on that there is something foreign and questionable lurking around the back of her brother's mind. The gears turned ever so slightly. When she threw away the unfit gears and looked past her initial presumptions, everything had fallen into place.  

Ayaka smiled. It wasn't the smile their mother trained her to have.

It was a disappointed smile.

"Ayato."

"Yes?"

"Where did you take her?"

"Stop pressing. I already told you, it's confidential–"

Her smile dropped. "Our villa's address in Watatsumi is also confidential."

Ayato chewed his bottom lip.

Bullseye.

The same blood courses through their veins. If there is a man that can withstand his attacks, it will be her reflection that waves back. This is the woman that helped build the Kamisato Clan of today; the delicate and elegant woman Ayato severely underestimated. The truth is out in the open, clear but far from loud. 

This is the wit of the Shirasagi Himegimi. And all of Inazuma will soon discover that it will be her words that can turn the tides of their oppressive decree.

"Ayaka..." Ayato started, his voice is controlled but not his mind. "I love her."

"I know." She answered weakly.

There is no way out of this. If he spoke more, he feared that his dwindling control of the situation will slip away. It was because of you that Kamisato Ayato believed in true love. It was you who told him that nothing— and he firmly believes that absolutely NOTHING should get in the way of true love.

Can you blame him for practicing what you preached?

His heart ached at how hollow his sister sounded. And he trembled just as violently when her eyes met his.

It was like looking through their mother's eyes.

"... What now?" 

‘This was unusual’. Those were the three words that came to Ayaka's mind. It's unusual for the illustrious Kamisato Ayato, the young man who brought his clan back to life through endless diplomatic conversations, to remain speechless. Her brother is certainly intelligent, particularly as a schemer. Ayaka should be there to help him. She was supposed to be his rock when things got too difficult. She was supposed to be his sole sister to support him.

Ayaka, on the other hand, was the one who dragged him here. 

"I do not approve of your fixation," Ayaka started. “I’ll say it now: I always found the way your eyes lingered on places it should not be a bit dishonorable to our clan.”

Ayato had expected those phrases to be more foul, disgusting, and succinct. He had dreams in which he heard his sister lash out at him for his selfish actions, and they always made him wake up in cold sweat.

Reality is way worse, Ayato decided. He would rather feel Ayaka punch his shoulders and scream into his ear to hammer home how immorally wrong he is. This silence is painful.

“...How long have you known?”

“I had my suspicions,” she said. Ayaka stammered slightly and hoped that Ayato didn’t notice. “But it was you who confirmed everything moments ago.”

“What...” 

Ayato closed his eyes and cupped his face with both hands. 

“What do you want me to do?”

There is a long pause between them once more. 

She cleared her throat. In her eyes, there is only one thing he could only do for her.

“Do what you do best.”

The only choice Ayato has left is to coerce her into giving her blessings.

He looked up.

Ayaka turned her gaze to the open windows. She closed her eyes and recalled Kaedehara Kazuha’s musings regarding nature. The outside world truly was tranquil. Both siblings envied the carefree nature of the outdoors. 

So Ayaka offered him a door to exit through.

“Lie to me that you will have everything under control.”

-----

For once, you wished that you took the time to visit your family. Maybe if you did, they would've been worried about your whereabouts. You can only hope that they would at least think about you once a month. 

Your Lord, on the other hand, was more than happy about your fading relationship with your family. Ironic, considering how most of his actions are born out of familial love.

Most, but not all. If he gave his all to his family, to Ayaka, then maybe you wouldn’t be in the dilemma you are in now.

“I owe you a life worth living in these walls, and it appears that I had not provided enough services to fulfill those needs. Allow me to extend my utmost humble apologies, dearest wife, for I had been a lacking husband.” Ayato whispered to you a morning after you relocated. He forcefully tucked you in a stiff embrace. There was no doubt that he enjoyed how your skin touched his, especially when his eyes exhibited nothing but an unadulterated desire to take you wholly. Your shallow breaths tickled his arm in response. And he was content with just that.

Despite uttering a “sincere” speech, you spared no visible reaction. You didn’t speak a word as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. Your skill in speaking evades you.

It was as if a snake had sunken its pointy teeth into your flesh. There was no hope for your escape. Each touch was more foreign and uncomfortable than the last.

It’s funny, but all you thought of at that moment was how your Lord was pathetic and touch starved.

“(Y/n)...” His voice bordered on a whine. “If only you understand at least half of the way you make me feel.”

How would that be possible when you cannot comprehend a sliver of what goes through Ayato’s mind? You no longer had the common sense to grasp why Kamisato Ayato would touch the flesh below your waist. You didn’t even realize that the touch prodding under your garments were his fingers until his nails were carved unto your skin. His whines entered your ear. There was no pain or pleasure, but you knew he was only interested in taking.

Kamisato Ayato is a depraved man.

And this, to him, was true love.

“I suddenly gained the urge to confess my love for you all over again. If I repeat myself once more, my mouth will get tired.” He kissed your neck. “And I would rather squander that energy somewhere else...

... Won’t you follow me upstairs, my beloved?”

Your memories cut you off after that.

Minutes felt like hours. Everything felt like a huge effort. Partner those two statements together and what you'll get is hell on Earth for a woman who can't sit still like yourself. At least, that was what you were supposed to feel. You felt like a lapdog. 

When you first got to the isolated villa, you woke up with a killer headache. But what made it worse is your Lord's enthusiasm to play as the loving and tender "spouse". Ayato’s villa came from old money. Using funds to spoil a retainer is incredibly hypocritical for a man who admonished fellow commissioners who had more money than sense. You would've teased Ayato for acting so out of character months prior, but the circumstances differ dramatically. 

Now you know that he drugged you. Twice. And he's willing to do it again if you crossed the line. Whatever the hell that "line" is supposed to be. 

This fever was endearing two months ago when you didn’t know any better. When it was just Ayato inviting himself into your room because he’s ‘worried’. When he insisted on taking care of you because he felt ‘responsible’ for making you work overtime. When you started to question your stamina because of it. When you thought being taken care of by someone other than your best friend Thoma felt nice.

Nowadays you can’t recall whatever happens to you after the sun sets. You didn’t reply to Ayato’s comments about dinner because you no longer have the ability to remember the things he shoves down your throat.

Except for the bittersweet red tea.

This total apathy works better for you, in a sense. It prevented you from having your thoughts row back into the dark crevices of your psyche. It’s established that you often lost sleep deliberating your competence in being Kamisato Ayato’s retainer, but not without a good reason.

No one noticed, but you were deprived of sleep almost every night thinking about your fallen friends in the Shuumatsuban. Every night you wondered if their sacrifices were worth the exchange if it only resulted in one lone survivor weeping. This was something you and Kaedehara Kazuha bonded with when Ayaka was away. Grief. 

You cannot even force yourself to mourn after he took you away. You are now a survivor relentlessly spoiled by Lord Kamisato himself.

Someone was talking from afar, and even when the sound approached you a lot quicker than you assumed, you didn't make any sudden movements to imply surprise.

Ayato, you assume it's him, doesn't seem to think there's anything wrong with your lack of stimuli. Something mussed your hair, which was probably his fingers.

"I'm going out for a bit, do wait for me, understood?"

His voice was warm and a bit husky, but commanding at the same time. Was he talking to you? Something pecked your cheek, and then you heard the door close. 

He exited the room. You're not sure if anyone was left besides yourself. The handpicked servants Ayato assigned to the villa often wore felted footwear and did their chores like they were not there at all. They may have been members of the Shuumatsuban, but a cunning bunny burrows twice, and it's not beyond the realm of possibility for Ayato to especially train an orphanage to master serving special domestic tasks alone. Thinking too much about it made your head hurt.

Everything was a blur. 

Time moves slowly. But you didn't feel nervous when parts of you are slowly disappearing.

You heard a tune. It was short-lived, but it's near. You continued peeking outside the window but cared not about the noise. 

"Pssst! Miss (L/n). He isn't here anymore."

You looked down. 

There's a white-haired man gently waving his hand. He's holding a red leaf over his mouth.

You simply stared back.

"I-It's me. Can I climb up?" He yell-whispered.

You blinked. 

He didn't bother waiting for you to reply-- he waited long enough. He leaped to your location. His sleeve fluttered slightly but no sound was made. His clothes, unlike Kamisato Ayato's elegant silk, were similar in color to that of rancid milk. The discoloration was enough to sign that whoever wore those clothes travel often, if you ignored the mud on the windowsill was his shoe size.

So, this must be Kaedehara Kazuha. 

A part of you expected happiness from this reveal, but not a single spark ignited.

"Are you hurt? How have you been– I caught wind that you had been missing in action for quite some time."

Kazuha's hands were scarred and singed, and touching his palms was similar to picking apart the skin of a roasted fowl. His wide-eyed glare directed towards your neck doused you with a sliver of self-awareness as he clutched your naked shoulders. His crimson pupils shrank. Was there a problem? 

"We have to get you out of here," Kazuha said strongly.

But why? There's no danger to be sensed. You failed to connect with his urgency.

Next thing you knew, he had carried you in his arms and left the room. You watched your body be carried bridal style, almost in third person, and observed how your hair touched Kazuha's arm. His grip on your form was tight, and his back was slouched as if preparing to shield you from an attack.

You couldn't tell, but he's beginning to fret over you barely reacting at all. What he had cradled didn't appear human, but more of a machine on autopilot. The scenery is vibrant in sloshed shades of pink and other pastels, yet your eyes reflected no light despite the iridescent surroundings.

You don't think you're real, that you’re no longer in control of your own body anymore, and Kazuha started to think the same.

When he placed you down a tree trunk, Kazuha's gaze lingered at your stray hair, reluctant to fix it for you. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't, but he'll act like he won’t for a little while.

He poked your neck.

You winced.

"Did he do this...?" 

The bruises on your neck and thighs offered enough answers.

"(L/n)?"

He looked sad.

"You haven't talked for the last hour. Are you okay?"

You've been with him for an hour? Kazuha didn't need anyone to point out that your time and spatial awareness were slowly deteriorating. His heart weighed a fraction of the sorrows you should've expressed.

Kazuha cupped your face.

"You're burning up..." He said. Your faces are only an inch apart. "Did you drink anything suspicious?"

You said you drank something red.

"(L/n), did you really not drink anything? Anything bitter? He didn’t make you eat something strange, did he?"

You emphasized that you regularly drank a bittersweet beverage.

"(L/n)... Why aren't you talking?"

But you did talk... Can he not hear you?

"N-nevermind. Our priority is to move you to somewhere safe. Captain Beidou is eager to help you sail outside Inazuma, but only if you'll allow it."

You tilted your head. How exactly? Before you got here, the Almighty Shogun closed off all borders.

His hand extended invitingly. 

“Won’t you come with me, (L/n)?”

You reached for his hand—

“That’s far enough.”

In one swift motion, a slash too fast for even a sword-master like you to comprehend under a second, you watched Kazuha’s knees hit the ground. His bandaged hand slowly soaked in the blood from his abdomen. He inhaled sharply while the invoker evaporated his makeshift water vessels. It was impossible to look away.

His crimson eyes never left you. You watched in mild horror as the soul inside slowly slipped away.

It was a pathetic way to die.

“Be still.” A foreign hand grabbed your shoulder harshly as Kazuha’s body landed on a loud thud. “You’re trembling too much, my beloved.”

Were you?

Normally, people will cry and bawl. Others would remain assured that the deceased had finally taken their well-deserved rest. Before, you were the same. You grieved over your Shuumatsuban comrades when they were given orders to prioritize your life over theirs. To maintain a level of albeit strained sanity, you tried to live with death as if it wasn't real and close at hand. As if it couldn't impact you. To the point where you couldn't discern if it was your work experiences that made you apathetic or the drugs the murderer before you forced you to take in this situation.

Did time move slow, or too fast?

This was tragic in the sense that you couldn’t even react to the corpse. A corpse who asked you out on a date. A corpse whose cheeks once blushed pink as it fantasized about the things you'd both share. A corpse who made you feel emotions you rarely had the opportunity to indulge in.

You felt almost nothing. 

The man kindly wiped the tears you didn’t notice for you. You tilted your head up to seek refuge in his lilac eyes.

A bright red leaf rested on the ground, only to be washed away by the crashing stream unnoticed.

--------------

Ayato's lips curled up into his signature smirk.

“Hmph, lie to you, you say? But what is there to lie about?”

His attention was drawn back to the present. The direction of his gaze was the same as his sister's, towards the window. Instead of being occupied by the silhouette of chirping birds, his eyes were trained on the sky behind them.

"Ayaka, do you remember the last time we volunteered to help clean up the fallen maple leaves and flowers from the last festival?"

Ayaka's brows furrowed. She was taken aback by how quickly her brother regained his usual self-assurance after hearing him sound so defeated. "Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

"The searing heat infuses them with one final spark of vitality, and for a brief moment, they radiate a more glorious glow than the flames themselves..."

Ayaka returned her gaze to the window and saw what Ayato was staring at. He did not indulge himself with the splotched sky, rather, it was the smoke from the Ritou furnace that Ayato eyed.

It was strange. 

It was utilized yesterday after the residents swept the streets clean of trash and humps of leaves, so it would not be needed again. She also recalled that Thoma had been oddly assigned to Ritou's cleanup job today. He carried a large pile of trash too, which didn’t make sense since there were no falling leaves to be cleaned up.

There were no fallen maple leaves in the area...

Ayaka's heart dropped.

"It was a short life they lived, but I can't help but wonder if it was a wasted one."

#yandere ayato #yandere fanfiction #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #yandere genshin #yandere #my mind was playing Running Away is Easy It's The Living That's Hard on repeat while writing this lol #sorry guys its my fault his rerun got delayed my bad homie #tag: blind obedience - ayato #ansy-writes