𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 || 𝕂𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠 𝔸𝕪𝕒𝕥𝕠

34. The Madness That Manifests At Three A.M.

"Ayato? What are you doing at this hour?"

Ayaka's voice broke the rhythm of Ayato's pacing, making him look up from the dark blue carpet beneath his feet. He stared blankly at her, as if he had barely processed her words.

"Oh, I, uh—" he looked around rapidly, trying to think of an excuse as to why he was pacing in their family living room at quarter past three in the morning. "I could ask you the same thing."

Ayaka sighed, closing the door behind her as she walked in instead of merely watching from the doorway. In her hands was a porcelain teacup and saucer, complete with a shining silver spoon. If Ayato had been less distracted, he might've noticed the way the surface of the amber tea rippled as her grip shook ever so slightly, but he was far too lost in his own misgivings.

Ayaka looked as if she was about to utter a retort but ultimately thought better of it. Instead, she plopped down on the blue velvet couch and took a sip of her tea.

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I got myself a cup of tea. I also thought about reading in here for a while, which is why I came here," she explained, gesturing to the bookshelves around them.

Their family living room was an elegant space lined with polished mahogany bookshelves. A roaring fireplace of white marble jutted from one wall, warming anyone who happened to be seated on the sofa opposite to it. The space between was occupied with a tasseled rug, accented with silvery threads. Platinum lamps hung from the ornate ceiling, though they were barely used on account of the hearth.

In recent years, this room had been somewhat neglected, both of the Kamisato siblings having their own rooms and studies. Ayaka would occasionally come here for a storybook or two, but apart from that, only servants came in here to clean.

Ayato blamed his lack of time. He spent most of his day occupied with meetings, and various other kingly duties. Yet, deep down, he knew that wasn't the only reason he avoided this room. This place used to be such a happy place. A safe space where his family was just that, a family. It held countless memories that he cherished with every part of his heart. His mother's laughs, his father's shining eyes as he told a thrilling tale of courage and chivalry, little Ayaka's radiant smile.

He really missed it.

Sadly, those times died with his parents, leaving this room only as a shell of what it once was. As suffocating as it usually was, tonight Ayato found it to be the only place that comforted him even a little. Here, no one but his sister and Thoma could interrupt his worried pacing.

Well, if Kanari were here, he wouldn't mind her interrupting. In fact, he would've positively leapt to take her hand and tell her of all the little stories this room contained. It filled him with so much warmth, that look of piqued curiosity sparkling in her eyes as she nodded along intently, the corners of her mouth curved up in the smallest of smiles.

Of course, this could only happen if Kanari were here.

Which she wasn't.

And that fact alone was giving Ayato an unfathomable amount of distress.

"Good. It's good that you've slept. Personally, I haven't been able to rest, or work, even," he muttered, continuing to walk up and down the carpet between the fireplace and the couch. "They should've sent someone back by now."

Ayaka raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Kanari's patrol?"

"Yes."

He paused in front of the fire, staring into its crackling flames as they danced on the coals. Yet again, he could think of nothing but Kanari. She'd been scarred countless of times, by her own family, then fire. He couldn't fathom how she rose from the ashes, both literally and figuratively, all on her own like that. When his parents had died, he still had Ayaka and Thoma by his side, motivating him to become the king his people deserved. Kanari, however, had no one. She found strength within herself, and slowly built the life he knew she deserved.