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132 » my hands are right around your waist
[As a general rule, Aether knows, people tend to underestimate the importance of small talk. Great mysteries are often solved with a good ear, a good eye, and basic observational skills. Little secrets are often divulged unintentionally. Sometimes, a slip of the tongue is all you need.
Case in point: the traveler has dropped by the Yashiro Commission, and noticed several key factors. First of all, there's dust building in the eaves, which Thoma would ordinarily never tolerate unless of course it simply slipped his mind. A woman standing by the pond remarked to herself that it must be allergy season, because Thoma kept sneezing to himself that morning, and doesn't that silly Mondstadter have any manners, blowing his nose like a foghorn? A samurai mumbled to himself about how that Thoma barely even acknowledged him at the door. And, most importantly, a younger guardsman pondered aloud the fact that Thoma has been in the hot springs for a full hour — inconvenient because he himself wanted to take a dip in the springs but found it strange to be in the bath with, well, an outlander.
("I don't mind so much when it's a trueborn Inazuman," the man sighed, "but that Thoma... do you suppose he's blond down there? Weird!"
Aether glared.
"What — oh, don't give me that! You're different! You're — pretty!")
The prejudices of the Yashiro housestaff aside, the bit about the bath combined with everything else bothered Aether. So, sure enough, when the traveler slips into the hot springs, rudely keeping all of his shoes and clothes on, he already has some idea of what to expect...
...thus, he's not at all surprised to find the fixer and housekeeper slumped over in the bath, having passed out from all the steam and what must have been an already weakened respiratory system.
How the traveler manages to haul a wet, nude Thoma out of the bath and somewhere safe without being spotted is a mystery best left unsolved, but Aether manages it in the end, drying the man off and rolling him into a futon in a private room which — judging by the skeins of yarn and knitting needles strewn about the desk, as well as its overall tidiness — appears to in fact be Thoma's quarters. Good. Aether's instincts pay off once again.
Owing to the change in temperature and humidity, it doesn't take too terribly long for Thoma to stir. At which point he'll open his eyes to a very ticked-off traveler looming over him...]
...You're an idiot.
Case in point: the traveler has dropped by the Yashiro Commission, and noticed several key factors. First of all, there's dust building in the eaves, which Thoma would ordinarily never tolerate unless of course it simply slipped his mind. A woman standing by the pond remarked to herself that it must be allergy season, because Thoma kept sneezing to himself that morning, and doesn't that silly Mondstadter have any manners, blowing his nose like a foghorn? A samurai mumbled to himself about how that Thoma barely even acknowledged him at the door. And, most importantly, a younger guardsman pondered aloud the fact that Thoma has been in the hot springs for a full hour — inconvenient because he himself wanted to take a dip in the springs but found it strange to be in the bath with, well, an outlander.
("I don't mind so much when it's a trueborn Inazuman," the man sighed, "but that Thoma... do you suppose he's blond down there? Weird!"
Aether glared.
"What — oh, don't give me that! You're different! You're — pretty!")
The prejudices of the Yashiro housestaff aside, the bit about the bath combined with everything else bothered Aether. So, sure enough, when the traveler slips into the hot springs, rudely keeping all of his shoes and clothes on, he already has some idea of what to expect...
...thus, he's not at all surprised to find the fixer and housekeeper slumped over in the bath, having passed out from all the steam and what must have been an already weakened respiratory system.
How the traveler manages to haul a wet, nude Thoma out of the bath and somewhere safe without being spotted is a mystery best left unsolved, but Aether manages it in the end, drying the man off and rolling him into a futon in a private room which — judging by the skeins of yarn and knitting needles strewn about the desk, as well as its overall tidiness — appears to in fact be Thoma's quarters. Good. Aether's instincts pay off once again.
Owing to the change in temperature and humidity, it doesn't take too terribly long for Thoma to stir. At which point he'll open his eyes to a very ticked-off traveler looming over him...]
...You're an idiot.
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A spick-and-span house, wood polished until it shines, floors wiped and swept. These things get Thoma moving, and the familiar faces of the Yashiro Commission and the Kamisato Estate most often express outward fondness or general good-natured bafflement at his whistling and dusting and mending. He's good to the heads of the clan. Whatever is said behind closed doors tends to stay there, if only for that.
Trust the whole place to start crumbling after he can't keep up his usual routine for once. When he sank into the steaming waters of the spring, he was thinking about how he'd keep managing to hide his affliction from Ayaka, who has an unbelievable knack for knowing where to find him and how to call his bluffs. The grim consideration of how it'll pass had turned in just days into it's getting worse may have crossed his mind.
The next thing on his mind at all has keen eyes and hair a more polished gold than Thoma's. It is calling him an idiot.
He closes his eyes and groans, but the sound in his throat is closer to rubbing two wood blocks together. The room is dim, but too bright; his head feels like someone smashed it between two rocks for a while. And Aether's really mad about it all.
It takes some effort, but Thoma rolls onto his side in the futon, curling, tucking his head in against his arms as much as he can. At least...at least he doesn't want to cough. But he squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists through trying a few words.]
What'd I...do this time?
[Like his groan, the words have more abrasion than voice. What if Aether says he knows what he did? What then? He...something must have happened between...the hot spring and here.]
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This is about what you didn't do, you... you...
[Big palooka is the only real insult that comes to mind, but something tells Aether that that one's a few decades off from what he wants to say. (Paimon might have said it once in a fit of foot-stomping fairy rage.) Sighing, the traveler only places a hand over Thoma's forehead to feel how warm he is now, gently brushing some of his hair out of his eyes while the man stays lying on his side.]
Dummy. [That one's also a bit silly, but it feels better. More affectionate.] How long were you going to pretend that you aren't sick?
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I'm not pretending. [Thoma keeps his eyes shut, because looking at something and talking through how talking currently feels would be too much.] I know I'm sick. I've-
[And he coughs a little. Ah, damn. Half the point of the steam was to get rid of that. Despite sounding like someone has run his throat through a grinder, though, Thoma isn't excessively warm beneath Aether's hand. Maybe just a little bit.]
I've been, mm. Staying away. Just doing my work. Can't let anyone catch it.
[Will Aether, unfamiliar as he is with Inazuma by comparison, be able to read some of the harsher truths caught in the ragged net of Thoma's faint voice? Despite himself, he doesn't have the energy to worry about that. Whether the traveler will understand that Thoma taking ill is one thing, but giving it to the household several orders of magnitude another...Aether's no dummy.
Thoma forces himself to swallow and he opens his eyes again. The "light" isn't so searing now, although looking directly at it sends pain straight through his head and out the back.]
That means...you too. You shouldn't be here. [He's about to insist that he can take care of himself, out of necessity rather than any sort of overblown confidence about how sick he really is, and in order to do that he has to sit up. He shifts his covers aside, and chill air whispers in between the layers of futon, and
His eyes open very wide. They're fixed on Aether, at first, and since he was in motion to sit up he keeps going but it means his exceedingly bare chest and back are exposed.
It is terribly, readily apparent there's nothing at all between him and this blanket.
Thoma makes a choked sound and pulls those covers back up around himself as much as he can. Indignant embarrassment doesn't sound any better through his raw throat than his words did, but a brilliant red flush starts across his face and his ears, moving all the way down to his neck and shoulders.]
Aether! [A proper hiss. Stuttering will do him no good, but he can't seem to steady himself, and he looks a bit frantically between the traveler's steadily-more-amused expression and the unhelpful landscape of the topmost blanket.] What's- what did- ?!
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The traveler was, of course, nothing but a gentleman about getting Thoma out of the steam in the spring, carrying him like a princess to maximize efficiency and modesty, but it's still terribly funny to watch the man sputter and stutter and blush over his perceived bout of exhibitionism. Aether tries to hold his amusement back for about one second before deciding that he isn't going to hold anything back for anyone. The sense of knowing in his smirk is palpable. Oh, Thoma, imagine the things he's seen.]
You passed out in the bath, Thoma. [Naked, he means to say, though he doesn't emphasize it; Thoma seems mortified enough as is.] Should I have stopped to dress you before I dragged you out of the water?
[And it might be a little mean, but he's already being mean enough, smirking with smug satisfaction at a poor, bedridden widdle housekeeper like this — so Aether tips his head slightly to one side, reaching over and tucking the blankets more properly around Thoma's shoulders. Now the Kamisato family servant can enjoy the safe sanctuary of being a disembodied head poking out of the covers. Not that Aether hasn't already seen everything, but, well, details.]
No one saw me carry you out, so it's fine. Calm down.
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You just- I have nothing on!
[This is patently obvious to both of them. The blush lingers on Thoma's cheeks and ears even as he shakes his head. Not that he doesn't appreciate the help (is this help) but Aether's having fun at his expense here!]
And you- carried? You're... [Aether is shorter and slighter than Thoma and he wants to know how that worked out but thinking about it necessitates thinking about how Aether carried him around naked so he tries to back away from that.] What about my clothes? My- Vision?
[And there's a touch of real anxiety in that last bit. Something flares through the exhaustion in his eyes. Sure, he had to remove the Vision for the purpose of soaking, but it wasn't ever far, always in reach of his touch.]
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Your Vision was near you, so I took it and I put it in the basket where you'd put your clothes. [He points. The basket is sitting in a corner of the room, with Thoma's usual attire neatly folded in its bamboo wicker, his Pyro Vision glowing warmly on top.] I'll take care of returning the basket to the hot springs area once you feel like you're ready to get dressed.
[The basket was balanced on Thoma's stomach at the time, too, so again, there wasn't much to look at... but again, Aether decides it's best to avoid illustrating the full picture...
...Okay, one more jab at Thoma's expense! He's leaning over the man already, so it's easy to just tease the tips of his ears with one finger and —]
You're cute when you blush, Thoma. Did you know that your ears turn pink, too?
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...breathes in, as well as he can, and reaches up to cover one ear with his hand. The other is still holding the blankets up around himself.]
I've heard that before. [Mostly from Ayaka, who finds it cute and is most likely to inspire a blush in him. Sometimes intentionally. So she can tell him about it.] But I- I should have thanked you first.
[After several attempts to clear his throat and sound more human, he sighs because he knows he has failed.]
Who knows how long I would have slept in there? [He's really fighting to save some face, after letting himself go in the process of waking up. Resolutely trying to forget the traveler carried him back here soaked and nude.] Were you...looking for me?
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Sort of. There wasn't anything I needed to ask of you, if that's what you mean. But I got to the Kamisato Estate and heard people say that you were sniffly and hadn't been seen in a while... so I put two and two together and went to make sure you were alright.
[Aether's smile has faded by the time he stops talking, though that's only a natural result of him saying quite a bit more than he usually does. The gaze with which he fixes the fixer is affectionate and calm — improbably mature for his youthful face.]
...You're always working so hard. But you need to rest just as much as anybody else does.
[A quiet sigh.]
Do you want me to bring you anything? Food? Water?
[He politely doesn't mention that leaving the room will give Thoma some space to get dressed again, which he's sure the housekeeper will appreciate without having it pointed out.]
Some of your fluffy friends from outside?
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Thoma shakes his head, coughing into the blanket he has gripped in his fist.]
If they want to come in...they will.
[He has an open-door policy for more local animals than anyone else on the Estate likely realizes. There's usually a bowl of tasty things for them near whichever actual door he's left open, but the unfortunate incident with the bath and his general fatigue otherwise have seen the bowl left empty.
Thoma makes another useless attempt to clear his throat, to sound more confident and less like Aether is right about what he should and shouldn't be doing.]
I guess some water would help, but you don't have to get it for me. Just give me a minute to get dressed-
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Aether's up on his feet before Thoma can even finish his sentence, though he looks bright and bushy-tailed to be given something to do — an emotion which is probably not unfamiliar to Thoma himself. ]
I'll get it for you! Just get dressed — I'll be back soon.
[ In a whirl of braided hair and gleaming gold, he's out before Thoma can protest. At least Aether's absence gives the housekeeper the opportunity to put on some clothes (and re-clasp his Vision to his belt, if so desired).
The traveler returns in good time, of course, laden with a tea-tray that doesn't have too many things on it — a set of teacups, a kettleful of tea, a flagon of cool water in case thoma would prefer that to the warm tea after his bath.
He can't exactly knock on the thin paper of the screen doors, but he lifts his voice a little to call out to Thoma beyond the partition. ]
Thoma, I'm back. Are you decent?
[ A question chosen to intentionally fluster the poor man, but not so bullying that anyone will think untoward things about him if they can hear Aether. ]
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Rather than dress himself back in his usual clothing, Thoma - painstakingly slowly, for someone like him - pulls himself over to his chest of clothes and opts for loosely tied pants and a haori he doesn't bother to tie at all. The Vision stays where it is, piled on the rest of his garments. He has a feeling he won't be getting back to his chores today. As soon as word reaches Miss Ayaka of the state of him, he just might be sentenced to bed for longer than one afternoon.
He sighs again. To no one but the walls and the wind.
When Aether returns, Thoma's simply sitting on his floor, back propped against the clothes chest, thoughts all adrift. The shadow through the screen makes him smile, just for a second, before he clears his throat to answer.]
Oh, no. I'm not fit for company at all. [Over the years he's perfected an audible quality to his smile, one he pulls out when he absolutely doesn't need anyone worrying about a thing.]
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...and stops dead where he's standing when he sees Thoma — dressed? undressed? wearing much less than usual, at any rate.
It's... not quite that he didn't realize Thoma was a fairly large and muscular man despite his classically pretty features — he literally just hauled the man out of the hot springs with a considerable size difference between the both of them, after all — but it's different, somehow, seeing him in that open haori compared to his usual dark shirt and cropped jacket. And it's not as though Aether is eternally tempted by the likes of, say, Arataki Itto, who always goes around without a shirt. It's just that it's a bit odd — striking, even — to see Thoma, who is normally always very put together and somewhat meticulously clothed, looking rather... déshabillé.]
Oh — you said...
[No, Thoma actually didn't say he was decent, did he? He said he wasn't decent, paradoxically sarcastic, so Aether only has himself to thank here for coming in — but, ah, why is he so flustered anyway? Did he not just carry Thoma fully naked out of the baths? At the time, though, he hadn't been focused on Thoma's body so much as his comfort and getting him somewhere dry and safe and — and —
Pink-cheeked, Aether crouches low to set the tray down where Thoma is sitting, and pretends he hasn't somehow become the one who is flustered.]
N-Never mind. Do you feel a bit better now?
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Would you believe me, [but he has to clear his throat to keep going, which will ruin what he wants to say,] if I told you I never felt that bad?
[If this were Ayaka here, not Aether, she'd frown at him in that especially cold and disapproving way of hers, the sort that was all about worry and not about anger at all, and he'd bow deeply and apologize and hide that he thinks it's true. He has felt much worse than this. He can still get his work done, or he could have before he got the bright idea to try to loosen up with a dip in the springs.
It's all confined to his face, he tells himself. A head cold is no reason at all to slack off.
Yet the dust lingers on the rafters and bits of leaves and tiny stones litter the corners of rooms. Unnoticeable, but for the stark difference from a normally spotless estate.
Thoma sits up better, haori falling further open, and picks up the teapot from the tray. With precision and ease he fills two cups, lifting his cup in Aether's direction in a highly Mondstadt-flavored gesture.]
I really appreciate this, though. Thanks.
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Maybe Thoma is inclined to relax and embrace his Mondstadt heritage right now, with his loose posture and open haori and toast of plain water, but Aether, feeling slightly embarrassed, elects to shut himself up into Inazuman customs, seating himself seiza-style upon the tatami mats beside Thoma in the most formal manner.]
...You're welcome. Anytime.
[The hardness vanishes after a moment. His expression softens. Looking Thoma over very carefully, one would be hard-pressed to find anything very wrong with him, but that cough didn't sound good, and there's a slight flush lingering about his cheeks that probably doesn't have anything to do with the way Aether is feeling pink. He might only have a cold, but that doesn't mean he should have to force himself through the household chores when neither Ayaka nor Ayato will keel over, dead, if there are tiny stones at the corners of the rooms.]
I can help you with the cleaning. But I think a better solution would be to instruct the other members of the staff to do it.
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I couldn't ask you to do that, Aether. [Nor would he. He doesn't mean that in the way where the traveler should then volunteer out of guilt or helpfulness. It's not Aether's job.] Truthfully, I don't think I can ask anyone to do it. It's been my job for so long.
[The Kamisato Estate sparkles. Whether or not visitors care to comment, Thoma is proud of his work. Quite possibly no one else could do a good enough job. ...Just as possibly, no one would be willing. Though if Ayaka were to ask it of them, few could refuse.]
Just so I know, before I figure out getting back to work...did anyone see you bringing me back here? From the bath?
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[There's a slight pause, and then, with impeccable comedic timing, Aether adds:]
Except for me.
[Thoma may not feel up to the flourishes right now, but Aether's capable of them. He takes up his cup of tea and sips at it, very delicately, with a grace that would better suit Ayato's elegant sleeves than the outlander's queer leather garments. The joke seems to have worn out its welcome, though, so after a pause, Aether adjusts his posture so that he, too, is more relaxed, cross-legged and open in a boyish sort of way.]
Rest assured I take sneaking around very seriously.
[Even sneaking around with a very solidly built amount of Thoma-shaped dead weight... which still seems a little bit improbable and equal parts impressive.]
No one saw.
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Okay then. I trust you.
[That...may have sounded strange. Tea in hand, and taking small fast sips, Thoma lets his mind drift, briefly. Based on the light beyond his screens and the sounds outside, it's a nice day. Probably a breeze. Someone will be raking the garden, in the event of surprise visitors, or just for the peace of it.
A soft, empty sigh escapes him.]
I'm going to have so much catching up to do. [It's quiet, just above whispering, said to no one but the empty air as he finishes the tea in his cup. He seems to come back to full awareness of Aether then.] Do you ever...you seem to have full days, too.
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I have full days. But there's always another full day on the horizon.
[ The tea is beginning to warm Aether's palms. Frowning slightly, the traveler sets it aside, and then leans forward to check Thoma's temperature with the backs of his fingers instead of his palms.
His touch is very gentle, clearly telegraphed so that Thoma won't be too off-put by the sudden contact; clinically, he checks the housekeeper's cheek, then his forehead, then his neck. The brush of his knuckles is feather-light, and it's hard for him to resist a sudden impulse to laugh. Thoma's cheeks are surprisingly squishy and soft. ]
You don't have to catch up to anything, Thoma. You're allowed to rest when you need to.
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So it's his own fault. A mistake, born of seeking enough reprieve to keep going.
Thoma looks Aether in the eye and sees fondness and laughter and concern there.]
You say that. [Both Ayato and Ayaka would say the exact same thing. Thoma isn't bitter about this, hasn't a trace of sting in his voice.] But leaving it all undone and knowing it should be done is harder than it sounds.
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Yeah. [ His voice is soft. ] Yeah, I know. But I need you to try, okay?
[ His touch is soft, too, when he turns his fingers and allows himself a genuine poke to Thoma's soft cheek. He's got handsome features, and his face slops more than it squishes, but still — there's a squish! ]
To be honest, you're cute when you're sick. [ He so rarely sees Thoma without the customary headband. Grinning, Aether ruffles his hair — not too roughly, of course. He's always pretty gentle, but he's especially gentle with a sick Thoma. ] Big baby.
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Thoma laughs, sharp and surprised, at Aether poking his cheek. He tries to duck from the hair ruffle but it's a token effort only. No one has ruffled his hair in years.]
Don't call me cute like that!
[Also a token effort. He's tired and a bit silly, himself, and since he can't do anything useful he strangely doesn't feel like he has to keep on his dutiful manner, which is just further proof that he shouldn't be up and about trying to clean.]
And don't- don't tell. Please.
[There won't be some kind of huge fallout when the Kamisatos find out he's ill. They'll make him stay in bed and someone will come with broth from the kitchen and he'll reassure Ayaka out of calling a doctor for a head cold. But if he can push that whole production off for as long as he can, then he wants an accomplice.]
I'll take it easy. That's a promise. But only if this stays between us.
[Both of them know it won't last.]
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I won't tell. I promise. [ A little bit of a mock-suffering sigh. ] Haven't I always kept your secrets?
[ The things that Ayaka confesses to him, the secrets that Ayato confides in him, and the things that Aether and Thoma did and said in Ritou — despite the close-knit nature of the relationships in the Kamisato Estate, Aether has always been very, very good at keeping the hidden insecurities of each member of the family away from the others.
One day, perhaps, the traveler won't be around anymore to be Teyvat's secret-keeper, and then all those secrets will be gone with him. ]
This stays between us. Pinky promise.
[ It's a Snezhnayan tradition, sort of, but it seemed pretty popular with the children in Mondstadt too. Smiling, Aether offers his pinky for Thoma to take, though in his heart of hearts he also knows that he just selfishly wants to feel the warmth of the housekeeper's finger coiled around his own. ]
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[Yet he raises his hand and hooks his smallest finger around Aether's. A promise sealed. This would probably be some sort of dangerous in Liyue, where contracts are a lot more binding, right?
Thoma sits back again, to finish his tea and cough a bit. Mm. Okay, that still felt awful. Much more of that and he's sure to be overheard and found out no matter how quiet Aether stays.]
Were you...here looking for me, though? Something you needed?
[There's no way he just has some kind of intuition for when Thoma's about to need rescuing.
Right?]
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Oh... [ Aether's lips twitch imperceptibly. ] There was something, but it's not important now.
[ He knows that Thoma's going to want to know now that he's put it like that, though. He should have just lied, but Aether rarely lies as a general rule, and he lies even less to his friends. Sighing, he relents, admitting quietly as he pulls his pinky away: ]
...I really wanted a taste of your miso soup. No one else makes it the way you do.
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[Whether it's the look of Aether or the realization that he does, as he has for the last several hours, still sound like someone raking a paved path, Thoma stops and sighs.]
...Sit here and mope about how I probably shouldn't be anywhere near food that someone else is going to eat.
[It's hard not to want to give in to a direct request, though.]
Sorry to have to disappoint you.
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Next time.
[ Maybe it's a little presumptuous to assume that Thoma will just make him soup next time he visits, but Aether knows the man well enough to know that there's a part of him that genuinely thrives off feeding and caring for his loved ones. He squeezes that shoulder just the barest bit, and then withdraws his hand back to his lap again.
Another little smile. A curious tilt of the head. ]
Is there anything else I can do to make you comfortable?
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He looks steadily at the sweetness in the golden eyes across from him.
Despite himself, he turns pink again - all the way up to his ears. A new and embarrassing truth that was otherwise a secret is that the blush also spreads down to his chest.]
No- no, no. You've done so much for me already. I really appreciate it.
[Thoma's smiling, trying to will away the flush in his cheeks, which he seems unable to do at all while Aether is looking at him with such care.]
Unless you can find a way to distract the others for a while...?
[Until. He recovers. So.
An hour?A day or two?]no subject
I don't think I'll be able to hide the fact that our dear, sweet Thoma has fallen ill. Ayaka and Ayato will find out even if everyone else doesn't.
[ Calling Thoma dear and sweet probably isn't going to help with the blushing either, and the softness of his gaze hasn't abated at all. Sighing, Aether finally relaxes, abandoning propriety enough that he slides his legs out from under his body to sit in a more relaxed, Mondstadter-like pretzel position. ]
Maybe you need to make your work less conspicuous from now on.
[ And stop doing all of it by yourself! goes unsaid. ]
♥
[Who else will do it, if not him?
Thoma sighs, and starts to cough. It doesn't last long but it's more than a moment of caught breath, which only makes him sigh again and press his palms against his closed eyes.]
Thank you, again, for...for, uh, rescuing me? From anyone else who might've found me over there. I think...maybe, I should try to get some more sleep. I don't mean to throw you out! [He peeks out from between his fingers, clears his throat.] You can stay, if you really want to, but I wouldn't recommend it. Just listen to me.
[Does he want to end up sounding like this? Aether getting sick because of him remains unthinkable.
Thoma, just a foot or two from his own futon and barely presentable for himself, let alone company, can no longer hold up against the call to lie back down. Decorum isn't going to win.]
Sorry I couldn't be...better company.
[He will hold off from actually climbing onto the futon until Aether makes a move one way or the other...to a point. Once his head hits the pillow he's simply asleep again within minutes - warm, and probably with a friend at his side.]