Chapter Text
Ayato had always known he was born for business.
It was a reality he had long accepted. Just as Thoma had a natural gift for serving others, and Ayaka possessed the grace of a dancer along with the effortless charm of a hostess, Ayato’s talent lay in work , in running and managing the company his family had helped establish.
And most days, he did not complain. He was fully aware of his responsibilities. At twenty-nine, nearly crossing into his thirties, he was already the executive director of the Yashiro Company, one step away from the vice presidency, and perhaps only a few short years from finally reaching the very top. That was precisely what he wanted.
But there were days when the weight of dedicating his life entirely to work felt exhausting. Not that he minded the occasional overtime , it wasn’t as though he had much of a social life outside of the office anyway. Still, today was different. Today was Ayaka’s birthday. She had arranged a small gathering at her home with her closest friends, and Ayato had nearly forgotten. A few days ago, he had commissioned Madam Navia, one of Fontaine’s most sought-after jewelry designers, to create something special, but the order would not be ready in time. There was simply no way he could show up empty-handed at his sister’s birthday.
That was when a storefront caught his attention. A colorful sign reading Tanuki Town Toys stood out against the street. Perhaps a plush toy or a doll might do? Ayaka was no longer a child - she was turning twenty this year - but she still held onto a fondness for girlish things.
So he decided to step inside. The bell above the door chimed as he entered, the sound mingling with the lively clutter of a shop crammed full of toys, action figures, and stuffed animals. And just then, another sound drew his attention.
“Crap, crap, crap-! I swear it wasn’t me this time!”
Ayato blinked.
A tall man with silver hair, wearing a name tag that read Arataki Itto, emerged from behind a fallen display of stuffed tanukis. His face was flushed, but he grinned wide and unbothered as he picked up one of the toys and set it back in place with exaggerated care.
“Alright, little buddy, back where you belong… see? Good as new!”
Ayato hesitated at the entrance, a faint chuckle escaping him before he could stop it. He pushed the door open, the bell chiming overhead.
Itto turned, eyes lighting up. “Yo! Welcome to Tanuki Town Toys! Need help finding something awesome?”
Ayato gave a polite nod, smoothing his voice into something less... corporate.
“Just browsing,” he said calmly. “Thought I might find a gift for someone special.”
“Nice,” Itto said, leaning over the counter with an easy grin. “You came to the right place.”
Ayato smiled faintly, stepping further into the store, and for the first time that day, he felt something unfamiliar.
Peace.
Ayato wandered between the shelves slowly, trailing his fingers across the edges of carefully stacked boxes. Plush animals, puzzles, games, all designed by teams he had overseen, but here they felt distant, like they belonged to another version of himself. A version who wasn’t standing under soft fluorescent lights trying not to stare.
He glanced over his shoulder.
Itto was restocking a shelf near the counter, whistling some off-key tune as he bent down to grab a crate. The muscles in his arms flexed easily under the tight sleeves of his white shirt, and Ayato felt his throat go a little dry. He looked away, immediately pretending to be invested in a pile of stuffed frogs.
It wasn't as if he hadn’t seen attractive men before. He had. And he’d always known who he was-had never doubted it. It wasn't something he shared with just anyone, but it wasn't confusion that kept him silent. It was privacy. Control. The need to protect what little of himself still belonged to him and not to the company, to expectations, to public image.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t notice.
And right now, Ayato was noticing everything.
The way Itto’s shirt stretched around his broad chest. The playful grin that never seemed to leave his face. The warmth in his voice when he greeted a family walking in, effortlessly entertaining a child with a tanuki puppet. His laugh was loud, genuine, unfiltered.
Ayato swallowed and tried to focus on the toys again.
He didn’t have a type, not really. But even if he did, Itto probably wouldn’t be it. Too loud. Too big. Too unpolished.
Yet there was something… disarming about him.
Ayato could feel his gaze drifting again, and this time, Itto caught it.
“Hey! You okay over there?” Itto called with a friendly grin, brushing a bit of dust from his hands as he stood upright. “You look a little lost. Need a hand?”
Ayato straightened, adjusting his scarf to buy himself a second of composure. “I’m fine, thank you,” he said, his tone even. Polite. Calm.
Itto raised an eyebrow, amused. “Sure? You’ve been staring at that pile of plushies like they insulted your whole family.”
Ayato blinked, then, despite himself, laughed softly.
Maybe this wasn't such a bad detour after all.
Ayato had just turned from the shelves when something caught his eye, a glass case on the counter, softly lit from within. Inside, nestled on black velvet, was a small collection of Genius Invokation TCG cards. But not just any cards. Rare ones. Limited edition, foil-stamped, tournament-exclusive.
He stepped closer without even realizing it, the rest of the store fading into the background.
There it was. The “Celestial Kitsune” variant, only fifty copies ever printed. And beside it, a perfectly preserved “Storm’s End” Electro deck, the kind Ayato had once dreamed of building as a teenager.
Even now, the thrill rose in his chest like a forgotten melody. For all his time inside boardrooms and R&D labs, even as an executive of the very company that produced these cards, he didn’t have easy access to the rarest ones. There were policies. Limitations. Appearances to maintain.
But none of that mattered at this moment.
“You play?” came Itto’s voice from behind the counter.
Ayato glanced up quickly, caught in the act of admiration. He cleared his throat. “I do. I mean… when I have time.”
“No way!” Itto leaned over the counter, clearly delighted. “Man, that’s awesome! Not many people even recognize the Kitsune variant. You’ve got a good eye.”
Ayato gave a modest smile. “It’s hard not to recognize it. It’s beautifully designed.”
“Right? I’ve been collecting since the game dropped. Built my own Geo brute-force deck from scratch.”
Ayato’s brow lifted slightly. “Geo brute-force? Sounds… chaotic.”
Itto grinned like he’d been complimented. “Exactly! I call it ‘The One-Arataknockout Build.’ Annoys everyone at local tournaments, but hey, it wins.”
Ayato chuckled under his breath, the name ridiculous and somehow endearing. He could imagine Itto at a table, oversized sleeves rolled up, trash-talking his opponents with that same unfiltered energy.
“You got a deck?” Itto asked, eyes bright. “You wanna play a round?”
Ayato hesitated. He hadn’t played in weeks, months, maybe. Too many meetings. Too many responsibilities. And this wasn’t just a random stranger, it was someone who might figure out who he really was if he slipped.
But... it had been a long day. And the idea of doing something that wasn’t calculated or expected felt oddly refreshing.
“I suppose… one round wouldn’t hurt,” Ayato said, adjusting his gloves as if it were a business deal.
“Yes!” Itto exclaimed, already grabbing his deck box from under the counter and clearing space on a nearby table. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. Unless you ask for the full Arataknockout experience.”
Ayato smirked. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
And as he took his seat across from the overly enthusiastic clerk, for the first time in a very long time, Ayato felt like himself again, not the Vice President, not the future CEO. Just a man playing cards with a stranger who didn’t know his name.
And maybe that was exactly what he needed.
Itto slapped a weathered deck box onto the table with a grin. “Alright! I’ve got a few spares. Don’t judge the sleeves, some of them are older than my job here.”
He opened it up and handed Ayato a neatly organized Hydro-based deck. Ayato’s fingers lingered on the cards as he began to examine the selection. His eyes lit up, just barely.
“This is… well-built,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“Oh yeah? I figured you might like it,” Itto said, scratching the back of his head. “Most people go for flashy Pyro plays, but I dunno, Hydro’s got this flow, y’know? Tactical, graceful, kinda like water itself.”
Ayato glanced up, slightly startled by how well Itto had described it. Tactical and graceful. That was exactly why he liked it.
They began the match.
At first, Ayato played cautiously. He didn’t want to give too much away. But as the turns passed, instinct took over. His movements grew smoother, faster, and far more aggressive. He set traps Itto didn’t see coming, manipulated the energy system with expert timing, and countered Itto’s moves before they even fully formed.
Halfway through the game, Itto was leaning forward on his elbows, his mouth hanging open.
“Whoa! Hold on, you just combo’d that with Hydro Resonance with the Mirror Maiden? That’s… that’s illegal levels of genius!”
Ayato gave a small, satisfied smile, placing another card with quiet precision. “I assure you, it’s all perfectly within the rules.”
Itto threw his hands up in defeat as Ayato sealed the win with a finishing blow.
“Man, who are you?!” Itto laughed, full-bodied and amazed. “That was insane! You play like some kind of card god or something!”
Ayato, still composed, gently gathered the cards back into the deck box. “Let’s just say I’ve had practice.”
“No kidding!” Itto said, eyes still wide with admiration. Then he grinned even wider and gave Ayato a playful nudge. “Alright, that’s it. You’re officially my aniki now.”
Ayato froze.
“...Your what?”
“My aniki!” Itto repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Y’know, like big bro, senpai, master of the cards, the guy I follow into battle, that kind of aniki!”
Ayato blinked, unsure how to respond. No one had ever called him that before.
He’d been “Director Kamisato,” “Sir,” “Mr. Kamisato,” or sometimes just “Ayaka’s older brother.” But aniki? There was something oddly… warm about it. Ridiculous, yes. Unfiltered. But sincere.
He gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he handed the deck back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s aniki before.”
“Well, you are now,” Itto said with a wink. “You beat me fair and square, and with style. That earns respect in my book.”
Ayato looked down at the cards again, then up at the bright-eyed man across from him.
Maybe today hadn’t been a waste after all.
The sound of the store’s old wall clock chiming startled Ayato slightly. He glanced up… 7 p.m. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. Had it really been that long?
He stood up quickly, smoothing his coat. “I should go,” he said, his voice touched with regret. “It’s my sister’s birthday. I promised I’d be home for dinner.”
Itto perked up. “Oh yeah? That’s awesome! How old’s the little bean?”
“She just turned twenty,” Ayato replied, reaching for his wallet. “But she’ll always be a little bean to me, I suppose.”
Itto laughed. “You want help picking something out for her?”
Ayato paused, a little flustered. He’d completely forgotten to buy a gift, too caught up in the match and in… whatever this unexpected encounter had become.
“I was thinking something simple,” he murmured, eyes scanning the store again.
“Simple, huh…?” Itto tapped his chin, then snapped his fingers. “What about this?”
He turned and grabbed a plushie from the display behind the counter, a big, soft, sea-blue hydro slime with a stitched-on smiling face and tiny, sparkly cheeks.
“It’s the newest one,” Itto said proudly. “Super cuddly. And it squeaks if you squeeze the top.”
He demonstrated with enthusiasm. The plush let out a gentle boing, and Ayato’s mouth twitched with a suppressed smile.
“She used to chase slimes in the backyard when she was little,” he said softly, taking the plush. “This will be perfect.”
As he moved toward the door, gift in hand, Itto called after him, suddenly a little unsure.
“Hey! Uh, if you ever wanna play again or just hang out… you know, talk decks, beat me senseless with hydro combos or whatever… you should come back sometime.”
Ayato turned, surprised by how… sincere Itto sounded. There was no pressure in his voice. No expectation. Just genuine warmth.
“I’ll be here pretty much every evening,” Itto added, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “So, uh, yeah. Anytime.”
Ayato opened his mouth to reply, but for a moment, no words came. There was a strange feeling rising in his chest, soft, warm, unfamiliar.
He gave a slight bow of his head, carefully composed but touched.
“I just might,” he said.
Then he stepped out into the night, the Hydro Slime plush tucked gently under his arm, and for the first time in weeks, his heart felt light.
When Ayato unlocked the door to his apartment, the soft buzz of music and laughter spilled into the hallway. The scent of grilled food and something sweet filled the air, and the moment he stepped inside, he could hear Yoimiya’s unmistakable laugh and Heizou teasing someone, probably everyone.
“Ayato!” Ayaka’s voice rang out from the living room before she even saw him. “You’re late!”
She appeared a second later, barefoot and wearing a pale blue dress, her hair pinned back with delicate clips. Her arms were crossed, but her expression was more amused than upset. Behind her, Yoimiya waved enthusiastically and Heizou gave Ayato a lazy two-finger salute from where he sat cross-legged on the carpet.
“Guilty,” Ayato said, setting his coat aside and stepping into the warmly lit apartment. “I lost track of time.”
“In the middle of what, exactly?” Ayaka asked, raising an eyebrow. “Another board meeting?”
Ayato cleared his throat. “Actually… a card game match.”
Ayaka blinked. “You… skipped my birthday dinner for a card game match?”
Yoimiya burst out laughing behind her, and Heizou smirked knowingly.
“I didn’t skip dinner,” Ayato said, lifting the small gift bag he’d brought. “I just arrived fashionably late. And besides, I got you something.”
Ayaka sighed like she was about to scold him again, but then he reached into the bag and pulled out the Hydro Slime plushie, holding it out to her with both hands.
“I know it’s not the necklace from Navia’s collection,” he added, a little sheepish. “She needed more time to finish the custom order. I’m sorry. But… I saw this and thought of you.”
Ayaka blinked.
Then her face lit up.
“You remembered!” she exclaimed, taking the plushie gently into her arms. “I used to love hydro slimes, do you remember that one time in the garden when I tried to adopt one and it nearly exploded?”
“I remember having to fish you out of the pond,” Ayato said, smiling softly.
She hugged the plush to her chest, eyes bright. “It’s perfect. I don’t need jewelry. This is the best gift.”
From the kitchen, Thoma peeked out, still wearing an apron. “I told her you’d remember something meaningful.”
Ayato gave him a grateful look. “Thank you for keeping things running.”
Thoma grinned. “The food’s cooling, and I kept your plate warm. Go sit down.”
Ayaka grabbed Ayato’s sleeve before he could head to the kitchen. “But seriously, you’ll tell me what were you doing that made you so distracted. You haven’t smiled like that in weeks.”
Ayato hesitated.
Then, almost involuntarily, his hand went to the sleeve of his coat, where the scent of that toy store, slightly dusty shelves, plastic wrap, and something sweet like cola candy, still lingered faintly.
“I met someone interesting,” he said simply.
Ayaka narrowed her eyes, curious. “Oh?”
He gently guided her toward the couch. “Later. For now, tell me what I missed.”
She beamed. “Heizou tried to guess my moon sign and got it wrong six times.”
“I said I was testing her,” Heizou called out.
Ayato chuckled, setting the plush down next to Ayaka on the couch. For the first time in a long time, the apartment felt like a real home, and for just a little while, he let himself enjoy that.
The soft golden glow of the living room had faded to the cool calm of his bedroom, but Ayato found no peace beneath the expensive sheets. He lay on his side, eyes half-lidded, watching the shadows shift across the ceiling. Ayaka’s laughter from earlier still echoed in his mind, along with something else.
A grin.
A loud, bright voice calling him “Aniki.”
Itto.
Ayato turned over with a sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. He hadn’t expected to remember the shopkeeper’s face so clearly. Or to feel… anything at all after just one game.
Several days passed. Ayato returned to his carefully polished routine: early mornings that began before the sun had fully risen, neat stacks of reports waiting at his desk, formal meetings where every word was measured, and the same polite smiles he had mastered years ago. On the surface, he remained flawless — poised, composed, the perfect executive-in-waiting.
But inside, something pressed against him. The stillness that once served as his refuge now felt suffocating, as though each silent moment tightened around him like a cage. The weight of expectation was familiar, yet lately, it seemed heavier, sharper, harder to ignore.
On a rainy Thursday evening, Ayato ducked into his favorite bubble tea shop. The air was warm and sweet, a stark contrast to the damp chill outside. He ordered his usual sakura milk tea without much thought, barely listening as the barista repeated it back to him. His mind was somewhere else entirely.
That was when he noticed it.
Across the street, through the sheen of rain and the hazy twilight, the crooked sign of Tanuki Town Toys flickered faintly, exactly as it had the first time he saw it. A splash of color and light against the gray backdrop of the evening.
Ayato froze, his cup forgotten in his hand. He hadn’t planned on returning. He hadn’t even allowed himself to think about it, to think about him. And yet, the sight tugged at something inside him, something that made the careful façade of discipline slip just a little.
Before reason could catch up, his feet were already carrying him across the wet pavement.
The bell above the door chimed softly as he stepped inside. The air smelled of dust and plastic, but also of something unexpectedly comforting — a faint trace of sweet candy lingering in the corners. The shelves were still crowded, chaotic and colorful, a far cry from the clean lines and muted tones of his office.
It felt almost like stepping into another world.
“Whoa, hey! Look who it is!”
Itto’s voice boomed from behind the counter, and Ayato looked up to see the tall man grinning wide, his hands full of plushies he was rearranging.
“You actually came back!” Itto laughed, dropping the toys into the bin. “I thought maybe I bored you off after being ashamedly beaten last time.”
Ayato gave a rare, small smile.
“I’ve been busy. But I had some free time today, and… I figured I’d stop by.”
Itto leaned on the counter. “You picked the right day. I got a new set of TCG cards in stock. Wanna play?”
Ayato nodded, tension easing from his shoulders just a bit. “I’d like that.”
They moved to the small table in the corner, the same one from before. Itto excitedly handed Ayato the familiar hydro deck, and as the game began, the weight on Ayato’s chest seemed to lift piece by piece.
“So,” Itto asked between turns, “who are you, anyway? You got that vibe, fancy shoes, serious stare. Businessman or secret agent?”
Ayato paused slightly. “Kamisato Ayato,” he said smoothly, adjusting a card. “I work at the Yashiro Company.”
“Ohhh,” Itto said, nodding like that explained everything. “The big toy and game corp, right? You must be high up!”
Ayato held back a smile. “Not really. Just… a lower-level employee. Logistics, mostly.”
Itto grinned and shot him a thumbs-up, all brightness and ease. “Hey, that’s cool. You gotta start somewhere, right?”
“Right,” Ayato murmured. His gaze lingered on Itto’s face, waiting for that familiar flicker of recognition, the inevitable moment when someone realized exactly who they were talking to. But it never came.
Itto had no idea. No idea he was playing cards with the soon-to-be CEO of the Yashiro Company, heir to one of the most prestigious families in the city. And truth be told, Ayato didn’t know why he had lied. Nothing he said could erase the fact of who he was: a high-ranking executive, the Kamisato name trailing behind him like a shadow he could never shake off. Yet for some reason, he didn’t want to see that look of hesitation in Itto’s eyes, the sudden stiffness that always followed once people realized his status.
Itto treated him differently—differently in the best way. No honorifics, no nervous silence, no cautious pauses before speaking. Just loud laughter, playful banter, and the easy warmth of someone who didn’t care about polished reputations or towering offices.
For the first time in a long while, Ayato felt like a real person. Not a Kamisato. Not an executive. Just himself.
And so, he decided he wouldn’t tell Itto the truth. Not yet.
The game moved quickly, cards played, dice rolled, counters shifted across the board, but Ayato found himself paying less attention to the mechanics and more to the person sitting across from him.
Itto was loud. And expressive. And maybe just a little bit chaotic. But Ayato couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken to him so freely, without hesitation, without calculation.
"Boom!" Itto slapped down a geo resonance card and leaned back with a grin. "Bet you didn't see that one coming."
Ayato raised an eyebrow. "I did. And that was a terrible play."
Itto looked down, squinting. "...Ah, shoot. You're right."
Ayato actually laughed. It slipped out before he could stop it, soft but real, catching even him off guard. Itto’s eyes widened for a second, like he’d just spotted something rare and shiny.
"There it is," Itto said, smiling as if Ayato had just passed some invisible test. "You’ve got a laugh. I was starting to think you were part robot."
Ayato tried to cover the laugh with a cough, his cheeks just slightly warm. "I’m just... not used to this."
"Used to what?"
He hesitated. "Being around someone like you."
Itto tilted his head, confused. "Someone awesome?"
Ayato smirked despite himself. "Someone unfiltered. You don’t measure your words. You just... speak. You laugh when something’s funny. You’re not trying to impress anyone.”
Itto blinked, then shrugged with a grin. "Never been good at impressing people. I just figure, if they don’t like me the way I am, then too bad for them, y’know?"
That hit something in Ayato. He looked down at his hand of cards, but didn’t see them. Instead, he saw his reflection, always composed, always calculated. Someone polished until the edges were gone.
And here was Itto, all edges and no polish, and somehow shining brighter than anyone Ayato had met in months.
"You’re... unusual," Ayato said, his voice softer than before.
"Thanks!" Itto said brightly, completely unaware it might not have been a compliment.
Ayato looked up again, and paused.
The light in the store was soft this time of day, filtered through old glass. It caught in the strands of Itto’s silvery hair, made the tan of his skin look warmer, the slope of his smile a little more... charming. His jawline was sharp, his eyes gleaming with a kind of fire Ayato didn’t quite know how to name.
He shouldn't be looking.
He certainly shouldn't be thinking the things he was thinking.
But there it was: a small flicker of something, curiosity, maybe. Or want.
Ayato cleared his throat and played his next card with precise fingers.
"Your move, Itto."
Itto cracked his knuckles. "Oh-ho, you’re going down now, aniki."
Ayato nearly flinched at the nickname again.
He hated how it made his chest feel a little tight. Or how nice it sounded in Itto's voice.
They were mid-match, Itto halfway through bragging about a "genius combo" that was almost certainly going to fail, when the sound of the front door opening made both of them look up. The storeroom door swung open with a sharp creak, and a young woman walked in, posture stiff and precise. Her presence immediately shifted the air in the room, stern, composed, and unwavering, as always. Dressed in a fitted black blazer with silver buttons and a crisp shirt beneath, her dark indigo hair was short on a bob cut, not a single strand out of place. Her sharp violet eyes, narrow and piercing, scanned the store with the cool efficiency of someone used to control, and expecting perfection.
"Itto," she said flatly. "You didn't finish the front display."
Itto jumped, halfway through stacking a box of Tanuki-themed puzzles. "C’mon, Sara, I’m almost done, really!"
Sara crossed her arms. "No, you’re not. And since you chose to spend half your shift playing cards instead of working, you’ll stay late tonight to finish what you should have done hours ago."
Itto groaned. "Aw, c'mon..."
Her gaze turned then, slowly, deliberately, to Ayato.
And it lingered.
There was no greeting. No acknowledgment. Just a heavy, assessing silence.
Ayato offered her a polite smile, then slowly stood from the table. "That's a shame," he said with the faintest sigh, straightening his coat. "I suppose we'll have to leave our rematch for another time."
He turned to go, moving toward the door, his fingers slipping calmly into his pockets.
But before he could take more than a few steps, Itto called him:
"Aniki!"
He stopped.
Itto was standing behind the counter, arms leaning over it, waving. "Wait, hold up a sec!"
Ayato turned, just slightly, unsure whether to feel flustered or amused. "Yes?"
Itto grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, uh... if we’re not gonna play tonight, maybe we can reschedule or somethin’? You got a number or whatever?"
There was something unexpectedly earnest in his tone, no hesitation, no agenda. Just a big, hopeful smile like he genuinely wanted to see Ayato again.
Ayato hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of Sara’s eyes catching his pause, in contrast to Itto’s hopeful gaze. Maybe he should say no, stand up, and walk away, leaving this brief distraction behind. But the truth was, he didn’t want to leave it behind. He wanted to see Itto again, to play TCG with him once more.
So, with a faint smile, he pulled his phone from his pocket to exchange contacts.
"I suppose it would be unfair to disappear without giving you a chance to win," he said smoothly, handing the phone across the counter. "Here."
Itto lit up. "Oh, man, thanks! I’ll send you a message once I figure out when I’m not on punishment duty."
Ayato gave a soft chuckle, already turning to leave again. “I look forward to it.”
As he exited the shop, the doorbell chimed softly behind him. The night air outside was cool, crisp, brushing against his face as if to clear his thoughts.
But even as he walked away, he couldn’t shake the sound of Itto’s voice calling him “aniki,” or the ridiculous, warm flutter it left in his chest.
It was raining lightly as Ayato prepared for bed, the gentle rhythm of raindrops against the roof of the Kamisato mansion wrapping the night in a soothing calm. The soft sound seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders, coaxing him into a rare moment of quiet.
His sister had noticed it too, earlier at dinner — the subtle shift in his demeanor. Normally, Ayato carried the stiffness of long hours and endless responsibilities, his mind still caught in numbers, deadlines, and strategies even when he was seated at the table. But tonight, he had seemed lighter, almost unburdened. Instead of running through calculations, his thoughts drifted to colorful cards spread across a toy shop counter, to the chaotic laughter of a man who never once treated him like a Kamisato, but simply as Ayato. And that, more than the rain, was what made him feel at peace.
He kept replaying the moment in his mind, Itto’s grin, the way his voice lit up when he asked for Ayato’s number, and that loud, unfiltered “Aniki!” echoing in his ears. How long had it been since someone had spoken to him so naturally? So casually? Ayato had spent so many years being careful, composed, measured. As the heir to Yashiro Company, he had no room for carelessness, no space for impulsivity. Every step was calculated. Every word filtered.
But around Itto… there was something different. The man had no idea who Ayato really was, and perhaps that was why it all felt strangely refreshing. Liberating, even.
Ayato sipped his tea, staring into the steam curling from the cup. It had been a long week, meetings stacked on top of meetings, endless preparations for the board's approval, and so many eyes watching his every move. And yet, his mind wasn’t on any of it.
It was on the way Itto laughed. How his eyes lit up when he talked about his favorite cards. How warm his hand had felt when he handed Ayato back his phone. He wasn’t supposed to think about a stranger like this. But here he was, thinking anyway.
It was nearly midnight when Ayato finally placed his phone on the charger and dimmed the lights in his room. He had just settled into bed when the soft vibration buzzed on the nightstand.
He reached for the phone.
Itto: Yo! It's Itto! Hope I didn’t wake ya! Just wanted to say thanks again for stopping by today. That match was insane! Still can’t believe you wiped me like that lol
Lemme know when you’re free again. I gotta win at least once before you vanish like again!
A small smile tugged at Ayato’s lips.
He stared at the message for a moment, then typed back.
Ayato: You’re welcome. I had fun.
And don’t worry, I’ll give you a rematch. Just be ready to lose again.
There was a pause. Then another buzz.
Itto: HA! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!! It’s ON, aniki!
Ayato placed the phone down again, this time with a lighter heart.
He turned off the lamp, sank into the pillows, and for the first time in days, he fell asleep with a genuine smile.