Chapter 248: Chapter 247: Sister, Just What Have You Been Keeping?

Chapter 247: Sister, Just What Have You Been Keeping?

Kamisato Ayato descended from Mt. Yougou with a face far darker than when he had set out.

Because along the road home, he had noticed it: those same wildflowers from the photograph. They were everywhere.

And whether it was coincidence or deliberate placement, there was one patch that stood out all too clearly.

Right at the foot of the rocky cliff that faced the Kamisato estate, beneath a boulder nearly twice the height of an oni—there bloomed a thick cluster of those pale-blue flowers.

They were interspersed with two other types of blossoms, making them look harmless enough to the casual eye. But to Ayato now, their presence was glaring.

Destroy them?

No… not yet.

According to the Guuji, these flowers were what the Ausbilder needed in order to travel across Inazuma. Which also meant—they could be used to track him.

If the Ausbilder truly wished to appear inside the Kamisato estate, this flowerbed would be his gateway.

And if Ayato destroyed it now? Then the Fatui’s Debt Collectors would no doubt slip in quietly some night and plant new flowers in hidden corners. That would be even worse.

“Hirotatsu.”

“My lord!”

A patrol samurai approached at once, bowing deeply.

This man, Hirotatsu, was a disciple of a renowned swordmaster. Both master and student had once benefited from Ayato’s aid. Out of gratitude, Hirotatsu had joined the Yashiro Commission, serving directly under Ayato as a household guard.

His swordsmanship was formidable—strong enough that even Vision bearers struggled against him.

“Guard this boulder,” Ayato instructed. “If anyone appears near this place… do not provoke them. Simply guide them into the estate, to the guest hall.”

The Guuji’s tale of the Ausbilder’s authority was too unsettling. Ayato had no intention of sharing it with his retainers. Not even the Shuumatsuban knew the full truth—only a tiny handful of its inner circle.

“Yes, my lord!”

Leaving his orders behind, Ayato finally returned to the Kamisato residence.

And the moment he stepped inside, his eyes—trained, searching—immediately began sweeping over every familiar corner.

To the right of the entry hall stood the small branch shrine of Narukami.

This was overseen by a shrine maiden named Toda.

Because the Yashiro Commission handled rituals, festivals, and entertainment, it was natural that they dealt often with Narukami Shrine.

Yet Ayato knew the real reason this branch shrine existed within his household.

Yae Miko had insisted on establishing it here during the Kamisato clan’s time of crisis—lending them stability, anchoring them with divine protection. After all, with a shrine to the Almighty Shogun standing inside, who would dare cause trouble at the Kamisato estate?

“Lord Commissioner, you’ve returned.”

The young house servant Koharu was sweeping near the shrine. Upon spotting him, she set down her broom and hurriedly bowed.

Koharu was responsible for cleaning the estate. Truth be told, she probably knew every nook and cranny of the Kamisato estate better than Ayato himself.

“Koharu,” Ayato beckoned her closer, producing the photograph from his sleeve. “I have a question.”

Her eyes widened the instant she saw the image. She stiffened, her face paling with guilt.

She bowed deeply. “F-forgive me, my lord! Yes, we did once have such flowers in the estate. But Madam Furuta and Master Thoma both said they were just common wildflowers. I felt there was no need to keep them, so I… disposed of them.”

She thought this was Ayato’s personal project, and that she had ruined it.

After all, with Thoma managing much of the household, the other servants often felt redundant. Their only saving grace was that he limited himself to serving Ayato and Ayaka directly.

Now… had she jeopardized even that?

Ayato’s expression softened.

“You’ve done well,” he said. “If you ever see such flowers in the estate again, inform me immediately.”

“Y-yes! Thank you, my lord.”

Relieved that she would not be punished, Koharu finally allowed herself to breathe. At the same time, curiosity flickered within her—why was the Lord Commissioner suddenly so interested in this kind of flower?

But she was far too wise to ask. After serving in the Kamisato clan, she had learned an important lesson from old Madam Furuta:

A good servant need only know one thing—do your work well, and don’t pry into your master’s affairs. The more you know, the shorter your future.

After dismissing Koharu, Ayato returned to his study. But the moment he opened the door, a soft, refreshing fragrance wafted toward him, seeping into his senses.

It was his sister’s doing.

Kamisato Ayaka—the Shirasagi Himegimi of Inazuma. To the public, she was renowned for three refined arts: the way of tea, the way of the sword, and the way of the board.

The heart of tea: serenity and harmony.

The heart of the sword: sharp and unyielding.

The heart of the board: foresight and calculation.

With these, she was already a lady of both grace and discipline, admired as a noblewoman of impeccable talent.

But that was not all. She also took delight in flower arrangement, calligraphy, and other traditional arts. Occasionally, she even snuck into the kitchen to cook. Her meals weren’t always perfect—but at the very least, her ochazuke could pass muster.

Yet when Ayato found the source of today’s fragrance, his smile froze.

Because today, his sister had chosen to practice ikebana—the art of arranging flowers.

Normally, Ayato would have praised her diligence. He might even have sat down to encourage her progress.

But in the arrangement before him, among the elegant blossoms, sat one all too familiar flower.

That pale-blue wildflower.

’Ayaka… that one, you must not use.’

“Onii-sama, you’ve returned.”

Even in the privacy of the study, Ayaka’s upbringing held strong. She had been taught since childhood that even here, she must maintain proper etiquette. So though it was only the two of them, she still addressed him with formal grace.

“…This flower. Where did it come from?”

Ayato sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the small blossom in the vase.

“Oh, this?” Ayaka answered lightly. “My instructor said we should not always be bound by exotic or ornamental plants—that even the humblest flowers can carry their own beauty. A few days ago I saw Koharu clearing these wildflowers from the garden, so I secretly saved some. I’ve been tending them in my room for practice.”

“…”

Not only had Ayaka hidden these flowers away… she had been cultivating them herself.

“…Ayaka. Where exactly have you been keeping them?”

“On my bedside table. It’s the most convenient place to look after them.”

“…”

At that moment, there was only one word in Kamisato Ayato’s mind.

Doomed.

. . . . .

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