Chapter Text
One of Ayato’s favorite things to do after work was find a new place to eat. He didn’t follow others’ recommendations, preferring to stumble across hidden gems on his own, whether they be hole-in-the-wall restaurants or street carts. He took pride in discovering them. Usually he kept his options open, but tonight he was on the prowl for ramen. He had been struck by a craving earlier that evening while wrapping up his assembly business. Lucky for him, one couldn’t throw a rock in Inazuma without striking a ramen shop.
He found a stand tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the main thoroughfare—but not so far as to lose business. Ayato ducked under the fabric hanging and chose a seat. He and the owner were the only two within the small, glowing confines of the stand. Sometimes, when Ayato frequented these establishments and found himself the only customer, he felt a great sense of relief. No one was looking at him or asking difficult questions. It was as close to anonymity as he could get.
He ordered shoyu ramen. Unfortunately, the stand didn’t have an alcohol license, so he settled for pairing his food with water. While he waited, Ayato skimmed news headlines on his phone. Stocks were down, rent was high, new survey results showed increasing public support for same sex unions, and there was some speculation on who’d be winning seats in the upcoming national election. Ayato read that last article, seeking out his name.
Kamisato has already made his intent to run clear and shows promise. An injection of young blood to the National Diet may be just what the country needs.
Ayato smiled to himself. He knew he had an uphill climb ahead, but the Kamisato name was in good standing with the Inazuman public, and he had already developed a sterling reputation as an assembly member. Moving into national politics might be seen as over-ambitious. However, several of his colleagues (the ones that actually respected him) had encouraged him to run. You could do it. You definitely have the drive and capability. This was one of your goals, wasn’t it?
He'd had political aspirations since he was young. His father had been a National Diet member, and while he never insisted that Ayato follow in his footsteps, he’d led by example. Ayato couldn’t help but develop an interest in politics. The elder Kamisato was the kind of politician who didn’t always toe the party line but was generally principled and beloved by his koenkai. If he hadn’t succumbed to illness when Ayato was young, maybe he would have held onto his office.
Ayato had started with student council activities, then ran for the local metropolitan assembly as soon as he was able. Now, the opportunity to enter the House of Representatives had arisen and he was going to seize it. There were too many old career politicians in the Diet more interested in hoarding their seats than actually improving Inazuma’s material conditions. They were happy to keep the country closed off and stagnant as long as they continued to rule.
“Your shoyu ramen,” the shop owner said, placing the bowl in front of Ayato.
Ayato closed the news tab. He removed his jacket, draped it over the back of his chair, and flipped his tie over his shoulder. Finally, time to relax.
Another patron arrived just as Ayato began to tuck in. “Yo, Yukio! The usual, please!”
The shop owner flashed the new arrival a thumbs-up before getting to work. Ayato glanced in the patron’s direction. It was a wild looking young man with long hair and flashy street clothes. He towered above the counter. If not for the friendly exchange between him and the owner, one would assume he was here to shake the place down. To Ayato’s chagrin, the young man pulled out the stool directly beside his. He was slightly oversized for the seat, his personal space overlapping with Ayato’s.
No matter. Ayato retrieved his earbuds from his bag and searched for a card game livestream on his phone. He propped the phone against the back of the counter. There was a new game from Sumeru picking up steam in tabletop circles. Ayato found it interesting. As a child, he’d played all kinds of games but had had to give them up as his responsibilities increased. There hadn’t been time to collect cards or find other players. Schoolwork and managing his family’s affairs had come first.
“Oh!” The other customer pointed at his screen. “You’re into Genius Invokation TCG?”
Ayato removed one ear bud. He probably didn’t have to. The young man sitting beside him had never heard of volume control. His voice easily made it past the little speakers. Well, now that he’d been spoken to, it would be impolite to ignore him.
“Just casually,” Ayato said. “I haven’t had a chance to play myself, but I like to spectate.”
“Do you have a deck?”
Ayato shook his head. There was no point buying cards if he had no one to play with. He did often feel tempted when passing game stores. The shiny card packages called out to him.
The young man fumbled about his person, then produced a small carrying case. “Do you wanna play? We could split my deck.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Even if Ayato did have a deck, there wasn’t enough space on the counter for a proper set-up.
“Seriously, it’s no problem!” His eyes were shining. “It probably gets boring just watching all the time. You should try it out for yourself!”
Ayato considered. This man was clearly an adult, yet possessed a childish exuberance that Ayato hadn’t seen since he was in middle school. It made him nostalgic for the days when his biggest concern was whether he’d be able to beat the new RPG all his friends were playing. It did get frustrating, only being able to watch, especially when a player did something objectively foolish.
“May I see your cards first?” Ayato said.
“Sure!”
Ayato opened the case and began his inspection. “Hm, you have a lot of Geo.”
“Because that’s the best element.”
“It doesn’t produce any reactions.”
“Pfft, who needs reactions? If you just hit your opponent enough times, they’ll go down.”
Ayato continued sorting through the deck. “I suppose that is a strategy, though with the current rules, you probably won’t get very far without diversifying. What do you do if you don’t get any Geo dice on your first or second rolls?”
“Easy. Trade in cards to convert ‘em.”
“What if you want to keep some of them?”
The young man’s brow furrowed. “I guess… use normal attacks until I get a Geo roll?”
Ayato neatly stacked the cards and returned them to their case. He plays like a child, too. Meanwhile, Yukio placed the young man’s order in front of him—tonkotsu ramen, Ayato noted.
“Thanks for the food!” The young man slurped up a mouthful of noodles. He spoke around them, cheeks bulging. “Y’know, I didn’t think salarymen played TCG.”
A salaryman? Ayato didn’t bother correcting him. “Well, the game is made for anyone to enjoy. Adults, children, the elderly…”
The young man looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Not like there’s a rule against it.” He laughed. “Man, now I’m imagining all the grannies at the community center playing TCG.”
The corners of Ayato’s mouth twitched. “Out of curiosity, how old are you?”
“Twenty-seven!”
Late twenties? Ayato would’ve guessed this man was closer to his sister’s age. His wild appearance was quite deceiving. He was still young, but even younger at heart, it seemed. Ayato had never met such a person before. His curiosity was piqued.
“I would like to play a match against you,” Ayato said, “but not tonight. I’d like to try building my own deck first. Would that be alright with you? I think it’d be more interesting.”
“Sounds good to me!” The young man reached into another pocket for his phone. It was an older model with a cracked screen protector that made Ayato wince. “Do you have the app? I’ll give you my user ID!”
Ayato supposed that was more appropriate than exchanging numbers. He quickly downloaded the app and made a profile, then scanned the friends QR code on the young man’s phone. His profile popped up.
“TheOneandOni?” Ayato read out loud, his lips curling in amusement.
“That’s me. Cool, right?”
Ayato breathed a laugh. He wasn’t sure about “cool,” but it was a cute bit of wordplay. He couldn’t help assessing the young man’s full profile. His win-loss ratio was exactly what Ayato had expected. TheOneandOni was getting crushed out there.
“By the way, my real name’s Arataki,” the young man said. “Arataki Itto. You can call me by my first name if you want. I don’t really care about all that formal stuff.”
“Itto,” Ayato said experimentally. He wasn’t used to leaping straight to first names. He hesitated, then said, “I’m Kamisato Ayato.”
He waited for a reaction and received none. Itto just smiled and nodded. It seemed he didn’t recognize the name. Something told Ayato that Itto wasn’t particularly attuned to politics. Perfect.
“Oh, I’d better let you eat,” Itto said. “Your noodles are gonna get soggy.”
*
What most people did not know about Ayato was that he had an impulsive streak. He sometimes made snap decisions, dragging others along a path they’d never considered going down. However, when looking at his long list of questionable choices, agreeing to play cards with Arataki Itto wasn’t that egregious. If his colleagues or political opponents learned about it, they might find it odd, but as Itto himself had said, there was no rule against it.
It wasn’t just that he’d been dying to play Genius Invokation; Itto himself was an intriguing character. Ayato was familiar with many different types of people, their wants and needs, their fears and ambitions. Being a public servant required understanding them. So, when a new type of person crossed his path, it was only right that Ayato should get to know them. Their game would be instructive in more ways than one.
He bought a few packs of cards during his lunch break the next day. Opening them was a delightful experience. Ayato understood now why people filmed the process. The anticipation was electrifying. Although he didn’t get any super rare cards, he was able to assemble a passable deck. (He’d seen Itto’s cards; no need for overkill.) He had to put them away as soon as lunch was over; he sadly had no extra time to spare.
As Ayato was on his way out, his duties at work had actually gotten more demanding while he wrapped up any loose ends. This wasn’t like an office job where he’d have a successor who’d carry out his remaining initiatives; whoever won his seat could do what they liked with it. They could even undo what Ayato was trying to achieve now, though it'd take a lot of work on their part. The next representative for the district would probably be another member of his party, so Ayato wasn’t worried. There were many progressives in Inazuma City.
He also had to continue building the foundation for his campaign. Maintaining a support group was a year-round affair and while Ayato didn’t have a formal koenkai, he made a point to visit potential supporters when he could. Some were from his father’s support group, some were friends from university, and some were just community organizers who operated within their neighborhoods—grandmothers who gardened together and the like.
It was all dreadfully exhausting. Ayato might be good at maneuvering, but it did take its toll. Being well-liked was hard work.
An opportunity to strengthen an old connection had just arisen: Kujou Kamaji was getting married soon and had sent Ayato an invitation. There was no question whether he should attend. Kamaji’s fiancée was Hiiragi Chisato, daughter of Hiiragi Shinsuke, Minister of Finance. In other words, Ayato could kill two birds with one stone by being there. If only weddings weren’t such tedious affairs…
He’d been to several at this point. One by one, his university classmates had paired off, and all of them had asked Ayato to be present—with the tacit agreement that he’d have their vote if he came (and might do them a favor or two in the future). Ayato had been to traditional weddings, modern weddings, themed weddings, destination weddings, and all of them had bored him to tears. Other people’s relationships were not his concern, so he had little investment in the couple’s happiness. And the institution of marriage was quite unromantic when one stopped to think about it. In the old days, marriage was a political tool and a way to pass women around like property. Truthfully, not much had changed. Important families continued to form alliances by match-making their children. Ayato and Ayaka might well have been pressured to settle down with partners their parents selected for them had they not passed away. As for couples free to make love matches, marriage was just a stamp of legitimacy that gave them some added benefits, which Ayato certainly didn’t begrudge them for wanting.
Same-sex marriage was actually a hot button issue right now for those very reasons. Those against legalizing it seemed to think it would upset the natural order, forgetting that the institution was a man-made construct. Those in support simply wanted the same protections as everyone else. Ayato, of course, supported legalization, but didn’t see the need to be too loud about it. The last thing he wanted was to make it part of his “brand,” so to speak. People might get ideas. (Ideas that were not unfounded but rather unwelcome.) He honestly had no personal stake in the matter; he was never getting married.
Well, he would have to RSVP to Kamaji’s impending nuptials either way. The wedding was scheduled after the election, but that made it all the more important. Win or lose, Ayato needed allies.
*
“Sorry, sir, but you’re ¥100 short.”
“Huh? But—” Itto frantically attempted to do mental math. ¥2,000 for feeding Mr. Yamada’s dog while he was on vacation, ¥600 for winning that bet, and ¥50 that I picked up off the ground…
The teenaged cashier gave him an apologetic look. He’d been jumpy from the moment Itto walked into the convenience store. He’d practically flinched just a second ago when Itto spoke. Itto knew why; he was a big guy, and not everyone approved of the way he dressed. He tried not to let it get to him. His grandma always told him that constantly worrying about other people’s opinions wasn’t worth the effort. As long as Itto wasn’t hurting anyone, who cared what a random stranger thought?
“Can I leave an IOU?” he said. “I can come back later with the ¥100. Swear I’m good for it.”
The cashier shook his head.
Man… Sighing, Itto moved a bottle of soda to the side. Such were the sacrifices a leader had to make. Hopefully the Arataki Gang would understand. The cashier rang up his purchases.
Having procured the snacks for tonight’s get-together, Itto left the convenience store and headed down the street. The sun had just started to set, and the sky above the surrounding buildings looked like rainbow sherbet (only without the lime). Itto swung the plastic bag as he walked. Next time, he’d make sure he had enough cash on hand.
Itto was between jobs—again—so that might be easier said than done without borrowing money. But he usually found a way to scrounge up enough to get by. Shinobu was there to stop him from blowing it all on comic books, cards, and the arcade.
Where would he be without her and the boys? In jail for petty crimes, probably. Not that they didn’t get arrested every so often. Luckily, Shinobu had studied law in Liyue and knew how to get them out of trouble. That was why Itto had dubbed her his second-in-command and best buddy.
Speaking of Shinobu, she appeared silently at his side, making him jump. “Gah! I mean—” Itto cleared his throat. “Just as expected. What’s up?”
“Akira can’t make it tonight,” she said. “He had to pick up an emergency shift at the grocery store.”
Itto’s shoulders slumped. See, that was the problem with being employed. You got paid, but you had to trade over all your free time. “Well, that’s okay. The rest of us can still hang.”
Shinobu’s eyes crinkled apologetically above her mask. “About that… Mamoru and Genta can’t come either.”
“What? Why?”
“They’re going to an AKY concert.”
“Yo, what? Without us?”
“They only have two tickets. Mamoru’s cousin was going to go with his girlfriend, but then they had to reschedule and couldn’t get refunds for the original date.” Shinobu sighed. “They told me to tell you they’re sorry, but…”
Itto couldn’t believe this. Gang meetings were sacred! Okay, they did see each other all the time, but that was just hanging out. They only had the time and resources to do something special once every couple of months. The fact that Mamoru and Genta were going to a concert was just a twist of the knife. AKY tickets were super expensive. Itto had no hope of seeing them live, but he’d been comforted by the fact that at least no one he knew did either.
“Please tell me they’re not meet-up tickets,” he said.
Shinobu said nothing. He could see the guilt in her eyes.
Itto could’ve fallen to his knees in despair. They were supposed to be a team! He’d always imagined that—in the unlikely event that they did get into a concert—they would go together! The whole Arataki Gang!
“They promised to bring you back some merch,” Shinobu said. “It was a very last-minute thing. If they’d known earlier, they would’ve informed you sooner.”
Itto sighed. “It’s fine. They better cheer extra loud for the rest of us. I guess it’s just you and me, then.”
“Looks like it.”
They arrived at Itto’s—or rather, his grandmother’s—house. Granny was watching a stand-up comedy show in the living room when Itto and Shinobu walked in.
“Welcome home,” she said, smiling warmly at the two of them. “Itto, are your friends still coming over tonight?”
“Nah, they had other stuff to do. Oh, I got you that stomach medicine!” Itto fished the bottle out of the plastic bag and passed it to her.
The smile lines around Granny’s mouth deepened. “How thoughtful. Thank you, Itto.”
“It was nothing,” Itto said. Taking care of the woman who’d raised him was just the right thing to do. In fact, he wished he could do more.
He’d lived with Granny as long as he could remember, and there was a good chance they weren’t blood related. Itto had no clue who his parents were. It had never occurred to Itto to ask her about his mom and dad. If they were dead, then they were dead and knowing their names wouldn’t change that. And if they were alive… well, if they didn’t want anything to do with him, then Itto didn’t want anything to do with them. It hadn’t been easy for Granny to raise him all alone, but she’d done it anyway. He’d rather jump off a cliff than disappoint her.
Unfortunately, he probably already had. He was a high school dropout, never went to university or a trade school, couldn’t hold down a job, and still slept in his childhood bedroom (albeit with new décor). Other guardians and parental figures would’ve wept. Yet all Granny asked of him was to stay out of trouble and be happy. She seemed to understand what a plethora of teachers and guidance counselors couldn’t—that a “normal” life would make Itto miserable.
It had been hard enough trying to conform at school. Every day Itto had racked up uniform violations or was sent home altogether. He attempted to join clubs, but all the interesting ones (e.g. paranormal investigation) got shut down, and the established ones refused his application. They didn’t want a known delinquent damaging their reputation. Most of the other students avoided him.
It hurt, sure, but Itto took it in stride. He wasn’t going to change for anybody, least of all a bunch of jerks and bullies who thought they were so high and mighty because they’d been elected class representatives. Just before senior year, he’d told Granny he wasn’t going back to school, and she didn’t try to convince him otherwise. And now he had real friends, like Shinobu and the boys—even if they had gone to an AKY concert without him.
Itto and Shinobu sat in the back courtyard, eating snacks and shooting the breeze until dark. An outdoor lamp came on, attracting moths. Itto noticed when Granny’s bedroom window lit up as well. She turned in early most nights. Just a part of aging. He’d been trying to convince her to move to the ground floor, since her joints creaked louder than the stairs, but she claimed it was good exercise. After a while, the window darkened again.
Both Itto and Shinobu’s phones buzzed. Mamoru and Genta were messaging the group chat with concert photos. Most of them were dark and blurry, but it looked like they were having a good time. Genta sent a short video along with the message, Your favorite, boss! Itto was too touched to be jealous. He watched the shaky footage with a smile on his face.
Itto wasn’t a huge AKY fan, but he really liked one of their songs. He’d gotten familiar with it through the taiko game at the arcade. Even as he played the short clip, he drummed the beat on his leg with his fingers.
“I wonder what it’s like to be an idol,” he mused. “Did you ever want to be one?”
Shinobu shook her head. “Never. All those people staring at me… I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.”
“I would’ve made a good idol,” Itto said.
“I don’t know about that, boss.”
“I can dance, I can freestyle rap, I can…” What else did idols do? “I can pose.”
Shinobu’s brow furrowed. “Pose?”
“Yeah. Like this!” Itto struck what he considered a typical idol pose—double peace signs with a wink.
Shinobu stared at him for a few seconds, then said, “It doesn’t really suit you. Also, I think male idols are supposed to be cool.”
“I’m cool!”
“You really wouldn’t want to be an idol, Itto,” Shinobu said. “I hear their companies are very controlling. You’re better off just being yourself.”
*
After he’d walked Shinobu to the train station, Itto got a notification from the TCG app. A user named “Cypressus Custos” had sent him a message.
Cypressus Custos: Hello. This is Kamisato Ayato.
Itto had been tired a second ago, but he’d just gained a second wind. The salaryman from the ramen stand! Itto hadn’t forgotten. How could he? That guy had promised him a duel.
TheOneandOni: hey! i was starting to think u were gonna chicken out
Cypressus Custos: Not at all. Just needed time to assemble a deck. Are you free right now?
TheOneandOni: sure!
Cypressus Custos: Excellent, where shall we meet?
TheOneandOni: i’ll meet you on the battleground of kiminami restaurant in hanamizaka!!
TheOneandOni: it’s open late and i haven’t been banned there yet :D
Cypressus Custos: I’ll see you there in 15 minutes.
Itto took off at a sprint.