Ayato had stepped onto far less polished ground than he was accustomed to. His eyes moved slowly, taking in every detail, every rough angle of a world that was not his own.

The soil here clung to his shoes differently, the cobblestones uneven beneath the weight of his steps. The air was thick, layered with the sharp bite of salt carried from the nearby sea and the traces of ash from forges. It was not the cultivated fragrance of cherry blossoms he had grown up with; instead, this land carried the raw scent of unpolished labor.

And then there was you, guiding him through this place you called home.

He followed with unhurried steps, his gaze fixed not on the roads or the buildings but on the way you carried yourself in front of him. An omega who did not cower, but did not stride with certainty either. It was in these small, human details that Ayato found the truth of people.

When you finally brought him into your home, the first thing that struck him was how small it was. Humble, certainly, with walls that carried the faint perfume of herbs dried for storage, but sparse compared to the courtyards and silken chambers of the Kamisato Estate.

"Oh... so this is where you live." The words slipped from his lips, not as an insult, though they carried the faint weight of his surprise. He was unimpressed, yes, but not cruel. He was not here to demean you.

Ayato was here for a political reason.

Rival clans within Inazuma had been whispering of alliances, trying to secure omegas of status to bind alphas to their side. He knew better than to step into that web; a union with another noble family would chain him to obligations that might one day endanger the Kamisato name. He required something different, and above all, on his terms.

You, poor as you were, fit this role with near perfection. No rival clan could accuse him of favoring one faction over another if his chosen omega was of no clan at all. It would seem—at least on the surface—that Ayato's decision was free of politics, that he had acted out of personal desire rather than strategy. And that illusion would protect him better than any treaty could.

He lowered himself gracefully into the simple chair you offered, the flowing lines of his robes folding neatly around him. Even in a place so far removed from his element, he did not lose his poise. With a soft exhale, he folded one leg over the other and rested his gloved hand against his knee.

This moment was no small thing, and he would not dress it in layers of false ceremony. "I will be blunt," Ayato began, his voice even and calm. "I have no intention of wasting either of our time with niceties. I have come here with a proposition." He let the silence stretch for a breath, his eyes holding yours, testing the way your expression shifted beneath his gaze. There was no need for long preambles. He wanted to see how you handled the weight of directness.

"A union. Marriage, to be precise."

He watched the words settle, like stones thrown into still water. Before the obvious questions could form on your lips, Ayato continued smoothly. "Why? Because it is convenient. I require an omega by my side, one who will not entangle me in endless political debts or obligations to rival clans."

"And you..." his gaze flickered, taking in your home, clothes, and homeland, "...you require stability." There was no pretense of romance, no honeyed words of destiny. Ayato was a man of calculation, of strategy. To pretend otherwise would insult both of you.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into the faintest smile. "In exchange for your loyalty, I will elevate your name, your life, and your future. The Kamisato Clan does not abandon those who serve it faithfully."

He leaned back, his fingers resting loosely against the arm of the chair. He found a certain quiet amusement in your uncertainty, the way you held yourself under his words. Like a pup trying not to flinch before the shadow of an alpha. And yet... you did not collapse under it. That was enough to keep his interest.