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Chapter Text

Yoichi dreamed of dancing.

Behind closed eyes, he would envision the way a body could move to music—with feet moving and hands swaying against the wind. He would imagine limbs flowing through space like a fish in water, molded to ripples and waves of sound, carried onward to wherever the current willed. It was his favorite way of passing time, though he knew such movement was beyond him.

He could never dance; he’d crumble apart if he tried. But he still liked to watch.

He liked to wish.

Yoichi’s brother never allowed him to attend balls, but whenever he could slip past his brother’s suffocating gaze, he watched the dancers. He’d sneak to the floor of a hidden balcony, crouching at the railing with his eyes glued to the swirling skirts and graceful movements of the people below. They circled each other in perfect synchronization, their bodies perfectly in tune, and Yoichi couldn’t look away.

It was mesmerizing, the way they moved. There was something about it—something alluring but never attainable. Almost like a mirage, distant no matter how he chased after it. There was no way to journey down from the cliff’s edge he stood upon and join the people far below him, but he walked right to the precipice anyway and stared straight down. He watched the waves crash below him and longed to know what the water would feel like against his skin.

To Yoichi, dancing looked like freedom. Reaching for it was suicide—either by the fall or by virtue of the fact that Yoichi had never learned to swim. He’d break apart on the rocks, or flail until he sunk, or open his lungs to saltwater and breathe the sea until he couldn’t anymore. He wouldn’t survive, and yet he wondered: What would it be like, in the instant before his death? As his broken body drifted out to sea, would the fish come to nibble at his flesh? And would he know, right before he became salt and bone, what it was like to swim with them?

He can’t help but think sometimes, when he stares off the edge of that cliff,

If I die knowing, then wouldn’t the fall be worth it?

The night Yoichi met his hero, his brother hosted a ball.

For his distinguished guests, he spared no expense. He threw open the doors of the royal palace to nobility from across the land, dazzling them with exotic foods and ostentatious décor. The ballroom became a transcendent place—glittering gold and sparkling with a thousand amber lights.

The guests, of course, had done their best to match the king’s extravagance. Yoichi watched from above as they milled around the ballroom, dressed in elaborate costumes to match his whatever theme his brother had demanded of them. Something to do with exotic animals, if the feather gowns and coats of sleek dark fur told Yoichi anything.

Yoichi absorbed it all from afar, craning his head out over the railing of his hidden balcony. With the ball keeping his brother busy, he’d been able to sneak out of his chambers without attracting the king’s notice, dressed as a servant as he slipped past the guards at his door. He’d fled straight to the balcony—his safe haven and the only place his brother’s empty gaze couldn’t find him.

Yoichi tilted his head forward, soaking in the sound of the strings as they struck up a waltz. His brother only brought in the best musicians, and it showed in the beauty of the song. The music was familiar—Yoichi had heard the same melody played at past balls—but it was as beautiful as ever, soft with a touch of melancholia.

He listened as it swelled, feeling more at ease than he’d been in a long while. It had been too long since he’d last managed to get a moment’s peace from his brother. His own chambers weren’t safe; the king could burst through his door at any moment, and whether he’d come to shower Yoichi with gifts or scream at him for all of his failings was all to the flip of a coin. Within the walls of his bedchamber, Yoichi had no choice but to exist in a permanent state of panic, always with one eye on the door.

He didn’t have to feel that way on the balcony. He was the only one who knew it existed, so his brother couldn’t find him there. It was the one place he could let out a breath without the fear that his brother would resent him for it.

Or so he thought.

He’d never seen anyone at the balcony before, so when the door creaked open behind him, he was taken by surprise. He whirled around, heart climbing up his chest, and immediately lost his balance where he’d been hanging over the edge of the balcony. He stumbled, foot slipping out from beneath him and stomach dropping as he realized a second too late that the thin bars of the railing weren’t enough to hold him back.

Yoichi’s weight swung forward, sending him plummeting straight over the railing.

He choked on a scream as he plunged headfirst towards the ground far below and the people who looked so small from up high. The drop hadn’t looked so far before, but suddenly it was endless, and Yoichi was paralyzed by the fear that it was all wrong. That there would be no moment of freedom when he hit the bottom, only a sharp crack as he splattered apart amongst the dancers.

His lips parted, wanting to scream, to cry out desperately, Not like this. Please not like—

Strong arms wrapped around his torso, hauling him back from the edge. Yoichi stumbled backwards against something warm and solid, breathing hard as his mind braced itself for another fate, for a shattered corpse on a ballroom floor.

He had not fallen. He struggled to reconcile that fact—that the hands around his body smelled like petrichor and wind instead of blood in the floorboards.

“Careful,” a voice drawled near Yoichi’s ear, rough and low like the surge of an alpine river over sharp, unpolished rock. “I don’t think the king would appreciate having to clean you off the dancefloor.”

Yoichi struggled out of the stranger’s grip, his heart pounding war drums in his ears as it marched to battle. The stranger let go and Yoichi fell awkwardly to the ground, staring up at his rescuer like a rabbit in a snare, breath coming in frightened gasps as he weighed the merits of gnawing off his own limbs to escape.

The stranger watched him impassively, apparently unaware of his inner turmoil as his crimson eyes peering out from behind a mask of navy scales, “Didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t expect to find anyone up here.”

He was dressed like a nobleman, wearing a long coat with a peculiar sheen to it. Upon further inspection, Yoichi realized it was made of the same dark scales that covered the man’s face.

Yoichi swallowed, his breathing beginning to even out, “Neither did I.” He climbed to his feet, keeping his appendages but eyeing the man warily. “I didn’t think anyone else knew about this place.”

The man’s eyes flickered. Not like fire—they were deeper and colder than that. Like rubies, tough and glinting, “I saw the balcony. From down there.” He motioned towards the great hall. “I wanted to see what the world looked like from this angle.”

Yoichi blinked. He’d never thought anyone at his brother’s balls would be looking up. There was no reason to, with such extravagant sights all around.

“Does the king know you’re here?” Yoichi narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Looking up wasn’t the only reason the nobleman’s response was strange. His brother didn’t tolerate invasions of privacy. Yoichi couldn’t imagine he’d be happy, knowing that one of the lords he’d invited had left his party to wander through his halls.

“Does the King know you’re here?” The man countered.

Yoichi tensed. The man couldn’t possibly be implying that Yoichi wasn’t supposed to be there. He couldn’t possibly know.

“I—" Yoichi fumbled for a response, heart thumping in his chest. If this man reported him to his brother, Yoichi might never be allowed to leave his chambers again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” The nobleman arched an eyebrow, nodding to his outfit. “If you’re going to pretend to be a servant, you shouldn’t question a member of the nobility.”

Yoichi inwardly cursed himself. The nobleman was right. He might have gotten away with fleeing the scene if he’d remembered his disguise sooner. He could have run away after apologizing for invading the man’s space.

“Maybe I’m not a servant,” Yoichi admitted. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be here.”

The nobleman smirked. Yoichi got the sense that he’d said exactly what the man expected, “True enough.”

The stranger took another step forward. Yoichi would have backed up, but after almost falling off the balcony, he wasn’t in a hurry to get any closer to the railing. He had no choice but to let the man advance until he was only a breath away. The nobleman was tall enough to need to lean over to meet Yoichi’s gaze, his precious-jewel eyes still full of dark amusement.

Too quick for Yoichi to react, he reached for Yoichi’s neck. Yoichi flinched back immediately, but the man was only grasping for his necklace. He pulled at the pendant that hung at Yoichi’s collarbone, running his fingers over the surface, “And then there’s this.”

Yoichi was always careful to tuck the necklace into his shirt, but it must have become dislodged during his near-disastrous fall. He tugged it away, wincing as his fingers grazed the hand of the nobleman.

The nobleman noticed his reaction and let go immediately. Something unreadable flickered across his face, though it vanished so quickly Yoichi wondered if he’d imagined it. He tilted his head slightly, “Strong evidence, wouldn’t you say?”

The necklace was a hand, fingers reaching out to clutch a red star. The crest of the Shigaraki family, the royal bloodline that had seized control of the kingdom over a decade ago.

Yoichi didn’t answer. He could only clutch the pendant in his fist, rabbit heart thumping dangerously in his chest. His brother had warned him, over and over again, what would happen if he ever left the safety of his chambers. They will use you, he’d said. Manipulate you to get to me.

His hands twitched at his sides, eyes darting towards the door behind the nobleman’s shoulder. The nobleman would most likely want to turn him over to his brother in order to gain the king’s favor, but Yoichi was small and quick. Maybe he could run back to his chambers before the man could grab him.

He tensed, readying himself to bolt, but the nobleman only sighed. He lifted his hands placatingly, a gesture of surrender, “Relax, Princeling. I’ll keep your secret.”

Yoichi didn’t relax. He didn’t see what the man would gain by keeping Yoichi’s secret, and he knew better than to think the man was acting against his own self-interest. People were selfish creatures. They would never turn down an opportunity for more, and this man was no exception. There must be a reason behind his actions.

Could it be the threat of mutually assured destruction holding the man back? Reporting Yoichi to his brother would mean admitting to wandering the King’s palace. If Yoichi had been right in assuming the man didn’t have permission to be there, the punishment for trespassing would outweigh the reward for handing Yoichi over.

“Who are you?” Yoichi asked, studying him carefully.

The man blinked, slightly confused, “Aren’t you royals supposed to know everybody?”

Yoichi glanced away, “I haven’t been at court as much as most royals.”

The consequence of being hidden away by his brother was that Yoichi knew little about the noble families that surrounded the King. He could study the world and the kingdom all he wanted, pouring over books in the library, but there were some things books couldn’t help with.

“Ah, yes,” understanding crept across the nobleman’s face. “I’ve heard of you. The king’s sickly little brother, kept locked away for the sake of your health.” He frowned at Yoichi. “You’re not as close to death’s door as I thought.”

 “Are you trying to avoid my question?” Yoichi asked.

“Maybe,” the man responded evenly, flashing a crooked grin. Yoichi just stared at him in confusion until he lifted his eyebrows in challenge. “You don’t want to figure it out for yourself?”

Yoichi considered the idea. He had theories about the man, but none of them made much sense. He looked the man up and down, “You’re from an outer region, aren’t you? Near the eastern coast?”

Maybe Yoichi imagined it, but he thought the man looked mildly impressed, “Interesting. Can I ask how you reached that conclusion?”

Yoichi nodded, gaining a little confidence, “I was operating on the assumption that you’re wearing clothes from your homeland. Those scales on your jacket and mask are from the speckled salmon, aren’t they? That fish is rare. It can only be found on the rocky coasts and rivers off the eastern border, so by process of elimination…”

He trailed off. The man watched him carefully, eyes unwavering as they pierced into Yoichi’s own. Yoichi suppressed a shiver. There was an unsettling intensity to the man’s stare.

“Not bad,” the nobleman commended him. “You’re not far off.”

Yoichi was oddly disappointed, “I got it wrong?”

The man nodded, eyes glittering beneath his mask, “You overlooked something.” He ran his fingers over the collar of his jacket. “This isn’t speckled salmon.”

Yoichi glanced at him in surprise, “Really?”

He’d been so sure. The sheen of those scales and the sheer size wasn’t something you found anywhere but the eastern regions. Sure, Yoichi had never actually seen salmon, but he’d flipped through many a book of detailed artwork.

“Really,” The man said, in a tone that made Yoichi wonder whether he was mocking him. “It’s a freshwater fish. You only find it in the lakes region.”

The lakes region was the colloquial name for the eastern reaches, located just inland of the eastern coast. It was known for the many rivers and freshwater lakes that dotted its rolling hills and forests. It was also known for the revolt it had led against the King several years back. Since the revolt had been crushed, the region had dissolved into poverty and developed a reputation for lawlessness.

In the years since the revolt, the region had faded into obscurity. Yoichi rarely heard it mentioned, nor encountered anyone from it. He realized he didn’t even know the name of the new noble family that his brother had assigned to the region, after the fall of the family that had risen up in revolt. 

“The lakes region,” Yoichi repeated thoughtfully. “The eastern reaches? That’s where you’re from?”

“That’s right,” the man nodded, a strange gleam in his eye, “You’ll keep my secret, won’t you?”

Yoichi furrowed his brow in confusion, “It’s a secret?”

For an odd moment, Yoichi felt that the man was holding back a laugh, “Hardly. I meant about being here.” At Yoichi’s look of confusion, he explained. “You were right. Your brother wouldn’t be happy to know I was here. You won’t tell him, will you?”

Yoichi hesitated. This nobleman was undoubtedly very strange. There was something unnerving not just about his words, but about the way he stared at Yoichi. His crimson gaze seemed to look straight through Yoichi, like he could see more than Yoichi even knew was there. It was a dangerous look, since no one was supposed to know anything about Yoichi at all.

Even so, the man hadn’t done anything to harm him. He’d even saved Yoichi’s life by pulling him back from the balcony railing. Yoichi had no reason to distrust him, nor did he have any real choice but to go along with the nobleman’s request. He certainly couldn’t afford for his brother to find out about one of the few places he had to himself.

Mutually assured destruction, he reminded himself. If he lets me fall, I’ll drag him down with me.

“I won’t say anything,” Yoichi said.

The man nodded, “A wise decision.” Yoichi caught a glimpse of relief in his crimson eyes. “This spot is too good to share with anyone else. Two is plenty, in my opinion.”

He took a sudden step back, “I’ll be going, then.” His movement was so abrupt that Yoichi flinched backward, stumbling back a step in alarm. The nobleman only raised his eyebrow, “Not going to fall again, are you?”

Yoichi shook his head, embarrassed, “Of course not.”

“Good,” the man nodded approvingly. “You’re a fascinating one, Princeling. I’d rather you stayed alive.”

He was gone before Yoichi could decide whether or not to take that as a compliment.

Yoichi figured that was the last he’d see of his crimson-eyed stranger, but the strange nobleman reappeared at the very next ball. He was sitting on the balcony when Yoichi snuck out, watching the crowd below him with a thoughtful expression.

“You,” Yoichi blinked in surprise, staring at him with a jumble of emotions that were half alarm and half excitement.

The man just smiled, “Me.”

He wasn’t wearing a mask this time, so Yoichi could see his whole face. He immediately wished he couldn’t, because that face made everything worse. It was distracting. Pretty like a statue, carved by loving hands from unforgiving stone. Yoichi was fairly certain though, that even a century beneath a sculptor’s chisel couldn’t produce a jawline so sharp or such a perfect aquiline nose, marred only by the jagged scar that cut its way down from the man’s forehead.

“What are you doing here?” Yoichi demanded, still frozen in the doorway.

The man’s eyes were on the dancers below, “I like the view.” He glanced up at Yoichi. “Join me, Princeling. There’s room enough for both of us.”

Yoichi knew he should spin around and flee back to his room. He knew interacting with this stranger was a risk he couldn’t afford to take. But he also didn’t want to miss the dance. He didn’t want to miss the thin slice of freedom that came with his time on the balcony.

He cautiously took a seat between the man and the door, not so close he couldn’t flee before the man could grab him.

The man didn’t even look at him, his eyes focused on the crowd below. After a moment, Yoichi relaxed a little, though he couldn’t let down his guard entirely.

He eyed the man distrustfully, “You lied to me.”

The man tensed, eyes flickering to Yoichi, “Did I?”

“Yes,” Yoichi confirmed. “Last time we spoke.”

The man’s eyes darted from side to side.

“You said I was wrong about the speckled salmon,” Yoichi reminded him. “But I’ve been reading about it in the library. The freshwater fish your jacket was made from is called wintertrout, right?”

The man nodded slowly. He looked slightly bewildered.

“They’re basically the same species!” Yoichi told him. “I looked at the histories. The wintertrout is descended from a speckled salmon that traveled upriver and got stranded in a lake.”

The man relaxed, an easy smile curving across his lips, “It’s hardly the same, Princeling. That salmon adapted to survive in freshwater over many generations. It’s a whole different animal now.”

Yoichi hesitating, not wanting to admit that the man had information he hadn’t found in his books, “Biologically, maybe. But they’re still related. I’ve read all about lakes fauna in the library."

“Have you now?” The lord’s face drifted into its familiar smirk, “You’ve been researching me, then? Should I be flattered or concerned?”

Yoichi flushed, “Concerned, probably. I couldn’t find much about the lakes region in the library, besides flora and fauna.”

“Really?” the nobleman looked momentarily surprised. “I suppose that makes sense. Your brother does love to write his own history.”

Yoichi frowned, “What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” the man spoke too quickly, his hesitant tone at odds with the calculating look in his eye. “It’s not my place to say.”

 Yoichi frowned, “You don’t think I’d tell my brother what you said, do you?”

“Maybe I do. It’s not like I know you,” he smiled, though it seemed wearier than his usual sharp grin. Right. Yoichi had forgotten that this man knew nothing of his strained relationship with his brother.

The man sighed, “I only mean to say that your brother has a vastly underappreciated ability to control information. With such power, he’s free to shape history as he likes.”

Yoichi slowly absorbed the man’s meaning, “You mean to say that he’s erasing your region on purpose?”

The nobleman nodded, looking slightly surprised, “You’re a sharp one, huh?”

Yoichi tried not to show the way the praise sunk into his skin and warmed his fragile bones, “Why would he do that?”

The nobleman lifted his shoulders in a shrug, though something darker glinted behind his eyes. It looked like rage, “It’s not for me to question the King’s motives.”

Yoichi wanted to ask more, but the look of barely concealed anger behind the man’s face dissuaded him. He contented himself with looking back down at the dance instead. He could faintly hear the music as it drifted up from below.

He cast the man another curious glance, “Why aren’t you down there with them?”

The nobleman was a lord of a major region. Yoichi couldn’t understand why he would miss the opportunity to attend one of the kings famously extravagant balls.

The man shrugged, “I told you. I like the view.”

“But why not watch from up close?” Yoichi frowned. “Why risk getting in trouble with my brother to come up here?”

The nobleman shot him a look of combined irritation and amusement, “You’re too curious for your own good, Princeling. Anyone ever told you that?”

Yoichi stayed silent, waiting expectantly for an answer.

The man let out a breath of exasperation, “I tire of them. That’s why I’m here.” He glanced down again. “Those painted charlatans are always putting on a display, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch it.”

He screwed up his nose as he spoke of the visitors below, brows drawing together. It was a look of distaste, which Yoichi didn’t really understand. The crimson-eyed man was nobility too. He dressed just as lavishly as any of the so-called charlatans he was condemning.

“Then why come at all?” Yoichi asked him.

The man smiled, “You really meant it when you told me you’re never at court, huh, Princeling? I have to attend your brother’s balls. It’s my duty as a lord.”

He said the words calmly, but there was an undercurrent of…something. His voice sounded almost bitter.

“Oh,” Yoichi frowned. “I didn’t realize attending was such a burden.”

The man glanced at him, noticing his change in tone. He sounded slightly defensive as he answered, “I never said it was. Only that I prefer it up here.”

Yoichi had to bite his tongue to keep himself from suggesting they switch lives.

He could never wish his existence on anyone else.

“What about you?”

Yoichi looked up in surprise at the sound of the nobleman’s voice. They’d been enjoying the view of his brother’s third ball in comfortable silence, Yoichi lying on the floor to stare between the bars of the railing. Somewhere between the last ball and the current one, Yoichi had shoved his wariness to the back of his mind, concluding that if the man was going to turn him over, he would have done it already.

When he lifted his head, the crimson-eyed man was watching him carefully.

“What?” Yoichi tilted his head in confusion.

“Why are you up here?”

Yoichi tensed, wonder how he could possibly explain. To everyone but Yoichi, the King was a picture of charm and grace. If Yoichi tried to explain that his brother kept him locked away and isolated in a private wing of the castle, the man would never believe him.

The man glances between Yoichi and the dancefloor, “You never take your eyes off the dancers. Why don’t you go down and join them?”

Yoichi let out a breath, “My brother has forbidden it.” He watched the man’s brows draw together. “Dancing isn’t good for my condition.”

“Condition?”

Yoichi shifted uncomfortably, “I’m sick. If I push myself too hard, my body will fail.”

The nobleman offered Yoichi no condolences or halfhearted apologies. He just stared with faint confusion, “Why can’t you attend and just…not dance?”

“My brother…” Yoichi trailed off, searching for an explanation that didn’t raise the man’s suspicions. “…doesn’t think it’s wise.” He shifted uneasily, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “Better to keep my distance than risk my safety.”

The nobleman stared at him for a moment longer, “I see.”

Yoichi almost believed that he did. The look in his eyes was too knowing, though there was no possible way he could understand Yoichi’s situation.

He glanced away a second later, and Yoichi felt colder without his gaze, “You can’t join them, so you watch from afar.”

Yoichi nodded.

“You must resent me, then,” the man frowned. “Coming here when I could be down there.”

Yoichi shook his head immediately. The thought had never crossed his mind.

“You have your reasons to distance yourself,” Yoichi offered the man a small smile. “Just as I have my reasons to long to be closer.”

The man scoffed, averting his eyes, “You’re too understanding, Princeling.”

“Yoichi.”

“What?” The man’s head swung back to him.

“You can call me Yoichi,” Yoichi told him.

The man squinted at him, “You…want me to call you by your first name?”

Yoichi nodded, not seeing the issue. Clearly the crimson-eyed nobleman didn’t care about titles. He’d never once addressed Yoichi the way he was supposed to—as ‘Your Highness.’

“And what should I call you?” Yoichi asked the man, who was still studying Yoichi with a peculiar look on his face.

The man frowned, pressing his lips together with a firm expression on his face, “Nothing. I’m a stranger. I don’t need a name.”

“We’ve spent two balls together already,” Yoichi reminded him. “You’re hardly a stranger.”

“I am,” the man insisted, his expression troubled. “And it should stay that way.”

“I don’t want it to,” Yoichi told him honestly. The nobleman might be guarded and mysterious and definitely keeping secrets, but Yoichi wanted to know him anyway. His brother usually prevented Yoichi from talking to anyone but himself and the royal physician. This was a chance to learn from someone new, and despite the risk, Yoichi couldn’t let it slip away. “I still have questions for you.”

He'd been reading voraciously about the east. He had so many questions to ask—about the fish in the lakes and so much more.

The man remained silent, watching Yoichi with a conflicted expression on his face.

“If you won’t tell me your name, I can make up something to call you,” Yoichi offered. “Would that be easier?”

“What? No,” the man stared at Yoichi like he’d started speaking another language. “You’re not listening—”

“Something to do with wintertrout, maybe? Because of the scale mask you wore?” Yoichi tilted his head, thinking hard. “Or… I could call you my hero, since you saved me from falling.”

“Don’t call me that,” the man said immediately, decisively. He let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his ginger hair. “I told you already. Don’t call me anything.”

“My hero it is, then,” Yoichi ducked his head to hide a sly smile. He was just turning to look back at the crowd when the man spoke.

“Kudou,” the man’s voice was rough. When Yoichi turned towards him, his crimson eyes pierced straight through Yoichi. He swallowed thickly, long lashes fluttering against his cheeks. All of a sudden, he looked younger and much more vulnerable. “You can call me Kudou.”

“Kudou,” Yoichi wrapped the name around his tongue. It was a good name. A pretty name. Yoichi smiled teasingly at him. “Are you sure? I kind of like ‘my hero.’”

The man stared with eyes that were a hundred shades of red. He didn’t smile back.

“Call me by my name, or nothing,” Kudou insisted, holding Yoichi’s gaze. “I’m no hero.”

At the fourth ball, Kudou came bearing gifts.

Yoichi’s eyes widened with delight as he unfurled the carefully wrapped parchment that Kudou handed to him without a word. On the inside, a detailed map of the eastern regions was drawn out by a careful hand.

Yoichi studied it with awe, “It’s amazing. Did you make it?”

Kudou scoffed, “Not me. One of my closest friends is as good with a quill as he is with a sword. I had him draw it out for me.”

“Beautiful,” Yoichi breathed, holding the map close to his face to make out the fine print. “Show me where you’re from.”

They spent most of the night hunched over the map. Yoichi asked question after question about Kudou’s home region, and Kudou pointed out all the places he’d been. He told Yoichi all about growing up in the lakes region, catching wintertrout in the crystal-clear water and riding his horse over the rolling hills.

Yoichi watched his face as he spoke, listening to the sound of his voice. Kudou had a brusque way of talking and a cynical way of seeing the world, but when he spoke of his home region, his voice softened and his eyes grew gentle and wistful. His expression only fueled Yoichi’s interest. Yoichi longed to see the place that inspired such yearning.

“I want to see one someday,” he told Kudou. Kudou looked puzzled. “A wintertrout. In the wild.”

Kudou smiled, “Only if you’re lucky. They’re smart. They know how to avoid getting caught.”

“But you must have caught them before,” Yoichi said, remembering Kudou’s scaled clothing from the night they’d first met. “You wore their scales.”

“Yes,” Kudou agreed. “I know how to trick them.”

Yoichi beamed at him, “Then you can teach me. That way, I’ll definitely see one.”

Kudou looked at him with an odd expression. Yoichi couldn’t see much beyond the walls Kudou always had up, but he thought it looked a little like regret, “Maybe. Someday.”

Yoichi’s smile wavered. Someday sounded too much like never.

By the end of the fourth ball, Yoichi considered Kudou a friend. Before he’d even realized it, he’d grown accustomed to Kudou’s presence. He even felt comfortable when Kudou was around, which was strange because he never felt that way around his brother. It was a surprisingly beautiful thing, having someone to talk to.

He spent the next week anxiously waiting for the next ball, for the next chance to see Kudou again. He read and reread every book in the library about the lakes, and stored up questions in his head to ask Kudou. He counted down days until he could sneak back to the balcony.

But when the day of the ball finally came, Yoichi never made it out of his bed.

Yoichi woke in the morning feeling normal. He got up, took the medicine his brother always supplied him, and waited anxiously for the time he could see Kudou again. By midday, the sickness began to set in, but Yoichi tried to push through it, ignoring his hacking cough and dizzying fever. It was only when the sun grew low in the sky and Yoichi could barely stumble out of bed without passing out that he finally admitted defeat.

His brother visited before leaving for the ball, placing a hand against Yoichi’s burning forehead. Yoichi’s stomach twisted at his touch, threatening to empty itself onto the floor beside his bed.

The king’s pale eyes swirled in front of Yoichi’s blurry vision, “Poor little brother. You’ve pushed yourself too far again, haven’t you?”

Yoichi tried to respond that he hadn’t—that he’d done nothing—but his throat was too sore to speak.

His brother narrowed his eyes, “It’s those books you’re always reading. You’ve put too much strain on your mind, and it’s weakening your body.” He frowned at Yoichi. “Take a break. I don’t know why you’re so interested in those corrupt eastern regions anyway.”

Take a break was phrased as a suggestion, but they both knew it was really a command. Yoichi managed a shaky nod.

“Good.” His brother smiled affectionately at Yoichi, though it never reached his cold eyes. “Don’t forget your medicine, my sweet brother, and you’ll recover soon enough.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against Yoichi’s forehead. Yoichi shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut until he heard the door click and lock behind his brother.

He laid in his bed, cold and sweaty and floating in and out of consciousness. All he could think about was that this was the first time since he’d met Kudou that he had missed a ball. He wondered what Kudou would think, when he arrived at the balcony and Yoichi never came. Would Kudou wonder what had become of him? Or would he be grateful for a reprieve from Yoichi’s pestering questions.

Night fell, and Yoichi thought of dancing. He wondered absently why Kudou was so averse to it. Could he be a bad dancer? Somehow, Yoichi doubted it. The way Kudou moved was so graceful, even when he was just walking or turning his head to look at Yoichi. If he danced, it would probably be breathtaking. 

Yoichi wondered if he’d ever get to see Kudou dance. He hoped so.

The window creaked loudly. Yoichi turned his neck to watch as a shadowy figure crept through the window with lithe grace. His heart pounded in his chest as it approached his bed.

A hallucination. It was just a hallucination, caused by his feverish mind. There was no way anyone could scale the wall to reach his chambers on the highest floor.

The figure took a seat by Yoichi’s bedside table, his features gradually coming into focus through Yoichi’s hazy vision. Yoichi gasped, propping himself up on his elbows as he spotted a familiar scar and soft crimson eyes, “Kudou?”

Kudou smiled at him, his voice surprisingly gentle, “You’ve look better, Princeling.”

Kudou didn’t look like Yoichi’s usual hallucinations. He was much more detailed and far less horrifying. Was it possible that he was really there?

Yoichi watched Kudou pour a glass of the herbal medicinal concoction his brother had left behind, bringing it to his own lips before offering Yoichi a sip. He grimaced in disgust, “That can’t be beneficial. Tastes like horse piss.”

Yoichi chuckled drily, though it quickly turned into a hacking cough. He turned away, coughing into a dry rag, “Do you know that from experience?”

“Good to see you still have the energy to joke,” Kudou raised his eyebrows, lifting the cup to Yoichi’s lips. Yoichi obediently took a long sip of the disgusting liquid and didn’t even choke as he forced it down his throat.

Kudou was silent for a long moment, “So you are dying, then?”

Yoichi glanced up, ignoring the bright spots in his vision. Kudou didn’t meet Yoichi’s eyes as he set the cup by Yoichi’s nightstand.

“Are you worried?” Yoichi asked, his voice hoarse and cracking. “Will you be sad when I’m dead?”

“Funny,” Kudou didn’t smile.

Yoichi sighed, “I’m not going to die. Or, I will eventually, but not in the near future. My brother’s physician expects I have at least a decade left, as long as I don’t push myself too hard.”

“A decade?” Kudou repeated, his tone surprisingly somber. “I suppose that’s not so bad.”

“No,” Yoichi agreed. “Plenty of time, all things considered. Too much, some might even argue.”

“Who’s arguing that?” Kudou’s brows drew together and Yoichi knew he’d said too much. He must still have been feverish, or he never would have admitted to thinking anything like that.

“Prisoners,” the word came out of Yoichi’s mouth before he could think twice. “A decade locked away isn’t much of a life.”

Kudou leaned in slightly, like he wanted a better look at Yoichi’s face. In Yoichi’s feverish state, he saw two of Kudou, four crimson eyes staring straight through him, “Is that what you are? A prisoner?”

Yes. Yoichi leaned back into the cushions, shutting his eyes, “We’re all prisoners in some way, aren’t we?”

Kudou stared for a second longer before he tore his gaze away, “If you say so.”

Yoichi was grateful for the absence of his too-knowing gaze. When he looked at Yoichi like that, it was hard to keep his true thoughts hidden.

Kudou stared out the window, where the moon rose in a thin crescent over the turrets and high walls of the royal palace. His eyes were far away as he whispered, “Ever think about breaking out?”

“What?” Yoichi blinked in confusion.

“You could escape,” Kudou suggested. “From your cell.”

Yoichi coughed into another rag. It came away red, “How would I do that? You do know who my brother is, right?”

“I do, unfortunately,” Kudou offered a wry smile. “But he’s not omnipotent. There are places you could run to that he couldn’t reach.”

“Not on this continent,” Yoichi smiled back, watching Kudou’s own grin dropped away. Yoichi had thought the suggestion was just another of Kudou’s strange jokes, but Kudou’s expression was intent enough to make him laugh. He couldn’t possibly be serious. There was nowhere Yoichi’s brother couldn’t find him.

Kudou’s face shuttered, “I should let you rest.”

He disappeared out the window as quickly as he’d come, so that Yoichi wasn’t sure he’d ever really been there at all.

It was weeks before Yoichi was well enough to be back on his feet. During that time, his brother hosted multiple balls, but Yoichi was never strong enough to even attempt to leave his chambers. He was forced to lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about his strange visit with Kudou.

Yoichi wasn’t fully convinced the whole thing was a strange dream. He still didn’t understand how Kudou had managed to climb through his window, or why he had asked Yoichi such a strange question. Running away? He couldn’t. Escape was a distant dream, hanging far from his reach.

Though he knew he’d likely hallucinated, Yoichi still held out hope he might see Kudou again. But Kudou never reappeared, even as an illusion. The only visitors to Yoichi’s bedside were his brother and the physician.

When Yoichi finally had the strength to sneak back to the balcony, he was desperate to see Kudou again. He missed his clever crimson eyes, his sharp-toothed smile, the cryptic way he spoke. He craved the sound of Kudou’s voice, harsh and brusque and so different from his brother’s saccharine false promises. The weeks confined to his chambers had given Yoichi copious time to think, and he had spent all of it dreaming of Kudou.

The balcony was empty when Yoichi arrived. His heart stuttered like a dying flame as he scanned his surroundings and saw no trace of Kudou’s ginger hair. Had Kudou stopped coming? Maybe he had found a better view someplace else.

“Yoichi,” a hand landed on Yoichi’s shoulder. Yoichi flinched hard, stumbling back with a yelp of alarm.

Kudou immediately pulled back his arm, his smile dying, “I’m…sorry. Are you—”

“Fine,” Yoichi gasped, heart pounding as he tried to hide the way his skin crawled at Kudou’s touch. “You just startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kudou said again, still watching Yoichi with a strange look in his eyes. Yoichi didn’t like it. Kudou was seeing too much.

Yoichi took another shaky breath, forcing himself to smile, “I’m glad you came. I missed seeing you.”

Kudou blinked, momentarily distracted from whatever he’d been pondering, “You’re better now?”

“Finally recovered,” Yoichi nodded. “I would have tried to come sooner, but my brother has been checking in on me every night. I didn’t want to risk it.”

“I see,” Kudou averted his eyes for a second. “Do they know what it is?”

“What?”

“Your condition,” Kudou clarified. Yoichi watched his jaw clench. “What is it?”

“It’s…just the way I was born,” Yoichi frowned. “I’ve always been weak, just as my brother has always been strong.”

Kudou glanced up, his eyes pinning Yoichi to the spot, “You’re sure?”

Yoichi blinked, “Of course I’m sure. My brother always summons the best physicians…” He squinted at Kudou, tilting his head confusedly. “Why are you asking?”

Kudou stared at him for a long second. He looked conflicted, like his words were stuck at the edge of his tongue.

“Just curious,” he finally said, glancing away.

Yoichi knew he was lying. He tried not to be bothered by it. Kudou had never pretended to be anything but aloof and secretive. He’d never let down his guard around Yoichi—at least not entirely. It was unfair of Yoichi to expect anything more from him, when Kudou had never demanded anything from Yoichi.

“My friend is hosting a ball soon,” Kudou said abruptly. Yoichi frowned at him, surprised by the sudden shift in topic. “I have to attend, as a favor.”

“That’s…nice of you?” Yoichi wasn’t sure what reaction Kudou wanted from him. “Will you have to dance?”

Kudou shrugged, “Probably.”

Yoichi sighed, “I wish I could see. I bet you’re a good dancer.”

“Hardly,” Kudou scoffed. “I don’t dance, if I can avoid it.”

Yoichi smirked, looking meaningfully from Kudou to the balcony he was hiding on, “I noticed.”

Kudou chuckled, but his eyes were strangely intent as he traced Yoichi’s smile.

“I hear the king will be riding out north that weekend,” Kudou said suddenly. Yoichi nodded. His brother had told him something similar. He was traveling north for a diplomatic meeting with the ruler of another kingdom. “Maybe you should come find me.”

Yoichi blinked, not quite understanding, “You mean…you want me to…”

“Come to the ball,” Kudou nodded, like his suggestion made complete sense.

Yoichi stared, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Kudou asked, as if the answer weren’t painfully obvious. “Your brother will be far away. How would he know?”

“The guards will tell—”

“You sneak by them already, to come here,” Kudou pointed out. “What’s the difference?”

The difference was astronomical. Yoichi had never left the palace grounds, and Kudou was asking him to walk out the door like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“It’s another masked ball,” Kudou was telling him. “You could come in disguise. No one would recognize you.”

“I can’t,” Yoichi repeated.

“You could easily ride over in one of the royal carriages,” Kudou continued like he hadn’t heard. “If you look like a noble, no one will dare question you. It will be easy for you to—”

“I can’t,” Yoichi exclaimed, heart speeding up anxiously in his chest. Kudou’s head jerked up as Yoichi’s voice rose, eyes wide with surprise. He didn’t get it. Why couldn’t Kudou understand? “If I get caught…”

Yoichi trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He stared at the ground, unable to meet Kudou’s eye.

“If you get caught…then, what?” Kudou repeated. His voice was hushed and soft. “What happens to you?”

Yoichi glanced up at him, helpless, “My brother won’t like it if I leave.”

His voice sounded small and weak and afraid. Yoichi hated the sound of it, but Kudou’s eyes softened, his expression as gentle as when he talked about the lakes of his homeland, “Then forget I said anything. We can keep meeting here. I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“I told you,” Kudou reminded him, staring with eyes that cut through every wall Yoichi tried to hide behind. “I like the view.”

Kudou told Yoichi he was content with watching from the balcony, and Yoichi believed him entirely.

That didn’t mean Yoichi didn’t yearn for more.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Kudou’s proposal, how Kudou had made everything sound so simple. Yoichi could just…leave. Just walk out the door and grab onto everything he’d ever wanted. The way he talked, so full of easy confidence, Yoichi almost believed it was possible.

It wasn’t. Yoichi knew it wasn’t, knew his brother would never let it be. And yet, he dreamed of dancing anyway.

It was a perilous thing. Kudou had taken ahold of him, and showed Yoichi a whole world with his words. Yoichi’s mind was forever etched with pictures of rolling hills and crystal-clear lakes and exotic fish with blue scales. Each time he looked at Kudou, he saw it all in the softness of his crimson eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself for longing to see more of it.

He tried to stop it, tried to remind himself that freedom was only meant to be admired from afar, but he couldn’t. It was impossible to remember the dangers of dreaming when his mind was full of Kudou.

Yoichi wanted to see Kudou’s eyes, wanted to hear his voice. He wanted to watch Kudou dance, just one time, from not so far away. He wanted it badly enough to risk everything.

So he did.

The night of the ball, he did exactly what Kudou suggested to him. He dressed in disguise, wearing an old, borrowed costume and a silver mask with a headpiece of feathers to distract from his white hair. It was just enough for Yoichi to pass as a nobleman, but nothing too gaudy. He didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention.

He took a carriage over from the palace, arriving at the ball at a neighboring manor with surprising ease. No one questioned him on the ride over, and he managed to slip through the main entrance without attracting a single odd look.

The ball was out in the expansive gardens that stretched across the property grounds. It was not so ornate as his brother’s events, but breathtaking in a different way. A natural beauty, with flickering torchlight illuminating blooming flowers. Yoichi drew in the sweet scent with delight, feeling the breeze against his face.

He’d done it. He’d left the palace. Yoichi could scarcely believe it.

Someone pushed by him, knocking into his shoulder, and Yoichi flinched backward into the hard stone of the wall. The manor was already crowded with people, mingling together and laughing as they drifted toward the dancefloor. There were so many bodies, so many more people than Yoichi had ever been around before. Even through the long sleeves of his clothing, his skin tingled from the proximity, his breath coming quickly as he tried to adjust to the overwhelming pressure of the crowd.

He pressed himself against the outside wall of the manor, eyes traveling across the garden as he searched for a familiar head of ginger hair. He was still fighting with the urge to turn and flee back to his room before he put himself in any more danger, but even stronger was a sense of exhilaration. Yoichi had left, and no one had stopped him. He was standing on a dancefloor, and no one knew who he was.

No one but Kudou.

Where was he? Yoichi knew the pressure would lift when he saw Kudou, when he laid eyes upon the one person who would know his face.

The band began to play a lively waltz, and Yoichi watched as couples made their way to the floor. It was so much more captivating to watch from up close. The women’s skirts billowed out as they leapt and spun, sparkling in the lamplight. The music was so much louder and richer. The people were so much more real.

Yoichi was transfixed.

And then he caught a glimpse of ginger hair.

Yoichi’s heart stuttered. Kudou was standing on the other side of the room, wearing a dark, metallic mask that obscured the scar across his forehead. He was talking animatedly to a tall man with silver hair tied back, his eyes flashing with amusement.

Yoichi smiled as he watched Kudou talk, wondering absently what he might be saying. It was so easy to tell when Kudou was excited about something. He couldn’t hide it, as much as he tried to come off as cold and reserved.

Yoichi pushed himself off from the wall, wondering how he could catch Kudou’s eye. Would Kudou even recognize him in his disguise? Yoichi doubted it. He hadn’t even told Kudou he was coming. The nobleman wouldn’t know to look for him.

As Yoichi took a step forward, the man with the silver hair grabbed Kudou’s arm. Yoichi stiffened, watching him drag Kudou over to a striking woman in a gray-blue ball gown. She smiled widely at them as they approached, her eyes lingering on Kudou in a way that made Yoichi uneasy. His unease only deepened when Kudou smiled back, flashing the sharp-toothed grin Yoichi had inadvertently become so attached to.

He stepped backward again, pressing himself back against the wall. Kudou was enjoying himself. Yoichi wouldn’t interrupt.

But he still couldn’t help himself from staring. The woman was laughing as she twirled a spoon around inside her cup, leaning far closer to Kudou than Yoichi thought was appropriate. Yoichi’s stomach twisted with something unpleasant as she laid a hand on Kudou’s arm.

Was this…flirting? Yoichi had never seen it in person, but he’d read about it enough to know the signs. If Kudou was flirting, did that mean he was interested in this woman…as a wife?

Yoichi’s stomach clenched. He’d never thought about Kudou taking a wife before. It made him distinctly uncomfortable. If Kudou took a wife, Yoichi doubted he’d have time to visit the balcony. And if they ever had children, Yoichi could give up on seeing Kudou again. Yoichi wanted Kudou happy, of course, but he didn’t want to lose his only friend.

He turned away, unable to watch their interactions without feeling slightly ill. He watched the couple nearest to him on the dancefloor instead, following their movements through the next few songs. They were wonderfully in sync, both of them deeply attuned to the other’s movements. When the woman jumped, the man always caught her. Yoichi wondered absently if it was practice that had allowed them to reach such a level, or just a deep awareness of one’s partner.

“Wintertrout eggs, My Lord?” Yoichi jumped, taken by surprise by the servant who had appeared by his left shoulder. He took a small cup from the servant’s platter, waving off the man’s profuse apologies for scaring him.

Wintertrout eggs? Kudou hadn’t told him the eggs were edible. Yoichi glanced back across the floor, but Kudou and the woman were gone. He scanned the room until he spotted the noblewoman’s full skirt. Of course. They’d moved to the dancefloor.

Yoichi shoveled a large spoonful into his mouth as the band started the next song, trying to overpower the bitter taste on his tongue. They were so salty it almost worked. He’d wanted so badly to see Kudou dance, but he’d had never thought about what it would be like to see Kudou so close to someone else. In Yoichi’s head, Kudou’s partner had always been a shadowy figure, features obscured.

There was nothing obscure about the way Kudou’s hand wrapped around the woman’s waist, his other hand reaching hold the woman’s own. They started to move, perfectly in time to the music, and it became evident once again that Kudou was a liar. He was a very talented dancer, his steps filled with the type of lithe grace that no amount of practice could teach. Yoichi couldn’t stop himself from watching Kudou move, even though half of him longed to see anything else.

He watched for the entire song, barely even daring to blink. It was transfixing, seeing Kudou move like that. As the music slowed, Kudou spun his partner around, coming far too close to the spot were Yoichi lurked.

Their eyes met. Yoichi bit down hard on his mouthful of fish eggs, wincing as his teeth accidentally sank into his tongue.

His mouth filled with the bitter taste of blood, but he hardly noticed through his mix of fascination and horror. He’d thought Kudou wouldn’t notice him with the mask, but recognition had dawned on Kudou’s face nearly instantaneously.

Yoichi tore his gaze away, finally finding the strength to retreat. He disappeared back into the crowd before Kudou could entrap him again, ducking out into an alcove off the lined hedge pathway. Yoichi shut his eyes, leaning his head back against the cool stone. His face felt too warm. He hoped he wasn’t getting a fever again.

“That you, Princeling?”

The voice was low and soft, surprisingly close by. Yoichi nearly banged his head on the wall as he straightened, poking his head out into the hallway. Kudou was standing only a few feet away, scanning the hallway with a confused expression. It softened as he spotted Yoichi.

“You can’t call me that,” Yoichi hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the alcove. “Someone might hear.”

Kudou stared down at him and Yoichi realized he’d misjudged the size of the alcove. The two of them barely fit. Kudou couldn’t stand at his full height, leaving him to hunch over with his head bent towards Yoichi. He was so close Yoichi could feel the heat of his body.

“You came,” Kudou lifted his mask, looking stunned. He was so close Yoichi could see every shade of red in Kudou’s eyes as his long lashes fluttered against the skin of his cheeks. He stared at Yoichi like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I shouldn’t have,” Yoichi grumbled, still trying to hide the heat that had crawled across his cheeks. Had Kudou noticed him watching back in the ballroom?

Yoichi froze as Kudou reached up towards his face, fingers fiddling with the edge of his mask. He remembered himself just in time to slap Kudou’s hand away before he pulled the mask off Yoichi’s head, “Don’t mess with it. It took forever to get it to hide my hair.”

Kudou frowned, lowering his hand, “I want to see your face.”

Yoichi was glad his mask covered most of his face. His skin was burning hot enough that he was sure he looked bright red. The way Kudou’s mouth wrapped around the request seemed almost intimate, though Yoichi knew he didn’t mean it that way.

“Not a good idea,” Yoichi muttered, looking away. “If anyone were to recognize me—”

“I know. You’re right,” Kudou’s eyes glittered in the dim lighting. “But I know a place where they won’t.” His lips turned up at the corners. “Come with me.”

He reached for Yoichi’s hand, but Yoichi pulled away before he could grab on, “What about the dance?”

Kudou shrugged, “We’re not leaving. Not entirely, anyway.”

“What about—” Yoichi hesitated, bracing himself. “Your dance partner. She’ll be expecting you, won’t she?”

Kudou hesitated, brows knitting together in confusion, “Why would she be expecting me?”

He seemed genuinely perplexed, though Yoichi wasn’t sure why. The way they’d been acting together matched everything description of flirting Yoichi had read. Why try to flirt if you weren’t interested in marriage?

“I thought…you might want her to be your wife,” Yoichi admitted, not quite able to meet Kudou’s gaze.

Kudou’s brows quirked upwards. Yoichi thought he spotted a hint of amusement on Kudou’s face, which only made him more flustered.

“I suppose it would be a good match. She’s a fine woman,” Kudou mused. The familiar lurching sensation crept back into Yoichi’s stomach. “But marriage isn’t of interest to me at the moment.”

“Oh,” Yoichi’s lips parted in surprise. He wondered at Kudou’s answer. As far as Yoichi could tell, Kudou was in his early twenties. That was the age most men began to settle down and take wives. As the lord of a major region, Kudou should be motivated to arrange an advantageous marriage.

He opened his mouth to ask another question, but the touch of Kudou’s hand distracted him. His skin tingled as Kudou’s fingers intertwined with his own.

“Shall we go?” Kudou asked, his grin full of promise as he pulled back down his mask.

Yoichi was too distracted by the feeling of Kudou’s skin to answer. Kudou’s hand was warm around his own, his fingers squeezing Yoichi’s own between them. The sensation sent a strange prickling feeling up Yoichi’s arm and down through his skin.

To his immense surprise, Yoichi didn’t hate it. In fact, it was almost exhilarating to soak in the warmth of Kudou’s hand. It was a completely new sensation, and yet it felt like something he’d always been missing.

Kudou stepped out of the alcove, guiding Yoichi into the hallway. He pulled Yoichi into a thin corridor off to the left and up a twisting staircase. At the top of the stairs, he ducked between two potted plants, using a key around his neck to open up a wooden door that Yoichi never would have spotted without his guidance.

The door creaked open slowly. A cool breeze kissed Yoichi’s face as he stepped through, sounds of the party growing louder. Yoichi could hear the music swell from somewhere below, accompanied by voices raised in merriment.

Kudou carefully released Yoichi’s hand, letting Yoichi step out onto a large wooden terrace. It was far more expansive than the balconies at the royal palace. The left and right railings were tall and entangled in the same vines that climbed up the wall behind Yoichi, small white buds just beginning to open on the thickest stems.

Yoichi pulled off his mask, peering out over the rail in front of him. They were a story above the patio where the rest of the visitors had gathered. From where Yoichi stood, he had a perfect view of the dancefloor and the garden beyond, lit by flickering lamps. It was a much-improved version of his secret balcony in the royal palace.

“Beautiful,” Yoichi murmured in awe, leaning over the railing to watch the couples swirl around in perfect sync. From this angle, he could see everything, but they couldn’t see him unless he leaned out far enough for his head to be spotted.

Kudou joined him by the railing, casting him a cautioning glance, “You’d better not fall again.”

Yoichi scrunched up his nose. He was still trying to forget the embarrassing moment when they’d first met, back when Kudou had needed to save him from falling off the balcony.

“’Course I’m not going to fall.”

“Good,” Kudou just grinned, still staring out at the view below. “So, you like it?”

Yoichi smiled, “It’s amazing. How did you discover it?”

“Same way I found your balcony,” Kudou shrugged. “I looked up.”

Back when they’d first met, and Yoichi had asked how Kudou had found the balcony, Kudou had given a similarly vague answer. Something about looking around that didn’t seem entirely plausible. Yoichi tried not to be offended that Kudou was still keeping secrets.

He nodded, enjoying the feeling of the breeze in his hair as he leaned over the railing. He rocked back and forth on his heels, watching the couples break apart, shuffle, and reconvene as the band finished a song and started another. The new song was upbeat and unfamiliar. Yoichi recognized most songs, but this one never played at his brother’s balls.

Kudou tilting his head to listen, smiling slightly, “This is one of ours. It’s from the lakes—one of the first dances you learn in the eastern regions.”

“I’ve never heard it before,” Yoichi admitted. “It’s nice.”

“I can teach you,” Kudou offered, smiling invitingly. Yoichi blinked in astonishment. “It’s not hard to learn.”

Yoichi searched his face for the usual teasing smirk. He couldn’t spot even a spark of humor in Kudou’s crimson eyes. His heart sped up in his chest, “I don’t— I can’t dance.”

“That’s alright,” Kudou shrugged, still so sincere. The earnest look in Kudou’s eyes made him feel unusually flustered. “I’ll lead.”

“I— But we’re—” Yoichi swallowed, his throat dry as he waited for Kudou to take back his offer. For obvious reasons, Kudou’s offer was absurd. Maybe he just hadn’t realized.

Kudou just raised his eyebrows, not seeming to catch Yoichi’s meaning even though he was too astute not too. Yoichi wondered if he was being purposefully obtuse. He held out his hand, “Don’t think so much, Yoichi. You want to learn, don’t you? I know you like to watch.”

Yoichi flushed, glancing at the dancefloor then back at Kudou’s hand. His brother’s warning flashed in his head, but Yoichi could barely hear it. One dance wouldn’t kill him, most likely. And Yoichi wanted to know, just once, what it was like.

He reached out and grabbed Kudou’s hand.

Kudou guided him to the center of the floor, lifting Yoichi’s hand up to his shoulder. He grabbed Yoichi’s other hand in his own, resting his free hand just above Yoichi’s hip. That same tingling sensation Yoichi had felt in the alcove crept back across his skin, even more intense than before. Kudou was so close and his touch felt more intimate, somehow. Yoichi could feel the heat radiating from Kudou’s body.

There was something intoxicating about the way it burned.

“Is this alright?” Kudou’s voice was a low whisper. He bent his head to meet Yoichi’s gaze, eyes glittering deep red. “I know you don’t like to be touched.”

Kudou had never brought that up before. Yoichi had hoped it was because he hadn’t noticed, but he should have known better than to think there was anything Kudou’s eyes wouldn’t catch.

“I—” Yoichi stumbled over his words, struggling to focus through the overwhelming feeling of Kudou’s skin against his own. “I don’t mind so much, if I know it’s coming.”

That wasn’t completely true. Abrupt, unexpected touch was what truly bothered Yoichi, but he tended to find it easier to avoid touch altogether. It was better if Yoichi didn’t allow himself to be put in a situation that caused him to reveal how much sudden contact upset him.

With Kudou, though, Yoichi couldn’t bring himself to create his usual distance. For some inexplicable reason, Yoichi had grown accustomed to Kudou’s presence enough to actually want him close. That had never happened with anyone else.

Kudou nodded, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Yoichi was grateful that he didn’t pry further. Kudou only tightened his grip on Yoichi’s hand, “First step is back with your left foot. Here, in time with the music.”

Yoichi tried to relax, letting Kudou guide him through the steps. Yoichi knew he was clumsy and horrible, but Kudou was a patient teacher. He never complained when Yoichi stumbled into him or stepped on his feet, only gently corrected him and urged him onwards.

The music ended before Yoichi gained much confidence with the dance, but he found himself reluctant to let go of Kudou. The band started another song, this one more familiar to Yoichi, and he was relieved when Kudou didn’t let go of him either.

The new song was slower and sadder than the one before, beautiful in a mournful way. Kudou pulled him closer, his voice soft against the wind, “Here, step closer to me. I’ll guide you.”

Yoichi cautiously tried step closer without touching Kudou any more than he already was. He wasn’t sure what was appropriate, and he was already burning up inside from just where Kudou held his hand, from the pressure of Kudou’s hand on his hip. He shifted back on his heels to create some distance, but he was caught off balance the moment Kudou took a step forward, wobbling as his weight shifted backwards.

Before Yoichi could let go of Kudou’s hand to steady himself, Kudou’s grip tightened around Yoichi’s waist. He pulled Yoichi back towards him to keep him from falling, shifting Yoichi’s weight forwards. Yoichi stumbled into his chest, his face momentarily buried in the soft fabric of Kudou’s jacket.

Yoichi gasped in surprise, his heart hammering in his chest. He’d never been so close to anyone before. If his brother saw, he’d probably kill them both right there. Yoichi knew he should let go, but Kudou was so warm and being near him felt so enthralling. Yoichi wanted to stay close to him more than he cared about the risk.

Before he had a chance to regain focus, Kudou was moving. He took slow steps in time to the music, allowing Yoichi time to grow accustomed to his movements. To Yoichi’s astonishment, in this new position, it was actually much easier to balance. Kudou’s arm around his waist was supporting more of his weight, allowing him to adjust more easily to Kudou’s movements. He relaxed slightly, letting his head rest against Kudou’s chest as the music swelled around them.

Kudou moved so gracefully that Yoichi stopped worrying about slipping. He leaned into Kudou, feeling the wind in his hair as Kudou spun them around.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Yoichi murmured, his words nearly swallowed up by the breeze.

He felt Kudou look down at him, shifting slightly, “I can feel yours, too. It’s beating fast.”

Yoichi flushed, though he wasn’t sure why. His fluttering heartbeat was likely due to the physical exertion of dancing. As his brother had warned, his body wasn’t used to it.

Kudou must have come to a similar conclusion, because Yoichi felt him tense, “You’ll tell me if it’s too much for you, right?”

Yoichi nodded, though he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his word. He already felt short of breath, his heart hammering in his chest, but it didn’t feel nearly as terrible as usual. Instead, it was strangely exhilarating. Despite the risk, Yoichi didn’t want the feeling to end.

Luckily, Kudou didn’t seem to notice. He hummed along to the music, moving to it like it was second nature to him. Only as it began to die away did he slow his movements, finally coming to a stop. Yoichi lifted his head to look up at Kudou. He didn’t move to step away, still unwilling to let go of Kudou’s hand.

Kudou didn’t make any effort to move either, his body still brushing against Yoichi. His eyes were almost reflective as he stared down, “What do you think?”

“W-what?” Yoichi stammered. There was an intensity to Kudou’s gaze that had him struggling to form coherent sentences.

“What do you think of dancing?” Kudou’s face softened with amusement. “Is it everything you imagined?”

Kudou wore his usual easy smirk, but it didn’t match the emotion in his eyes. He was watching Yoichi too carefully, like he was deeply invested in his answer.

Luckily, it was an easy question.

“It was amazing!” Yoichi breathed, unable to keep a wide smile from his face. “Only, you lied again, Kudou.”

“I did?” Kudou looked momentarily bewildered.

“You told me you weren’t much of a dancer,” Yoichi reminded him. “But that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Kudou laughed, “I said I didn’t dance much, not that I was completely helpless.” He grinned at Yoichi. “You weren’t so bad yourself. Keep practicing and you’ll have the first one down.”

Yoichi scowled, though they both knew he wasn’t really offended, “Now you’re really a liar.”

He knew he was terrible. Yoichi was completely uncoordinated compared to Kudou. As much as he enjoyed it, dancing felt as if he’d just discovered he had legs and had no idea how to use them. He didn’t understand how people could reach the level of talent Kudou seemed to possess.

“You weren’t so bad, for it being your first time,” Kudou shrugged. “When I first started lessons, I couldn’t take a step without tripping.”

Yoichi found that hard to believe, but he appreciated Kudou’s praise anyway, “I’ll keep working on it, then.”

“Good,” Kudou nodded approvingly. “I expect you to surpass me next time.”

The thought that there might be a next time left a warm feeling in the pit of Yoichi’s stomach. He ducked his head to hide his smile, his forehead brushing against Kudou’s chest. Kudou took a small step back, “Sounds like the band is taking a break. I’ll walk you back in.”

He paused, glancing down in surprise. Yoichi didn’t understand why until he looked at his own hand. When Kudou had moved away, he’d released his grip on Kudou’s shoulder to grab onto the front of his jacket, scrunching the fabric in his closed fist. Kudou couldn’t move away with Yoichi holding him so tightly.

Yoichi flushed. It had been an instinctual reaction. He just hadn’t wanted Kudou to leave him. For the first time in his life, he was completely content with watching from afar. It was so much more enjoyable when he wasn’t alone.

He swallowed, his tongue feeling unusually thick and awkward in his mouth, “Or we could stay here. Just a little longer.”

Kudou arched an eyebrow, something unreadable flashing across his vision, “Aren’t you worried about your brother?”

“The guards said he left for the north this morning. He won’t be back until tomorrow,” Yoichi answered. His brother’s departure was one of the only reasons he’d dared to sneak out. His destination was a long journey up into the mountains. Yoichi doubted the King would travel both there and back in a day.

Kudou looked thoughtful, “My dance partner might wonder what’s become of me.”

Yoichi released his grip on Kudou’s jacket, his stomach sinking. He felt like a fool. Of course Kudou would want to return to the beautiful woman he’d been dancing with. He’d probably just been waiting to make his escape, “Right. Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you—”

“I’m joking, Yoichi,” Kudou’s teeth flashed, his eyes glittering red. “I didn’t come here for her.”

Yoichi wasn’t sure he could move. His limbs felt very odd, like a current of energy was running through them. His heart fluttered in his chest again, and this time he couldn’t blame it on the dancing, “What do you mean?”

Kudou’s smile widened, “I love my friend, but he could never force me to attend a ball like your brother could.” Yoichi stared at him in confusion. “I only came so that on the off chance you showed up, you wouldn’t have to dance by yourself.”

Yoichi felt even more petrified. Kudou had come…for him? That meant that the balcony, the dancing—Kudou must have planned it all. For him.

He swallowed, “Are you…teasing me?”

“Is that what you think?” Kudou arched an eyebrow. He looked surprisingly earnest, no trace of humor in his dark eyes. Still, though, it was too considerate to be anything but an elaborate joke. There was no reason for Kudou to do something so nice for him.

“I guess I’m a little confused,” Yoichi admitted, meeting Kudou’s eye. He still couldn’t identify the strange emotion that flickered across Kudou’s vision. “I think you’re telling the truth, but I don’t understand why…”

He trailed off, hoping Kudou would understand what he was trying to express. Kudou nodded, “You don’t understand what I stand to gain, right?” He shrugged. “Who’s to say? Maybe I want something from you.”

Yoichi blinked. He hadn’t expected Kudou to admit to it so easily, “What do you want?”

Kudou scoffed lightly, though his eyes glinted with some hidden meaning that Yoichi couldn’t quite decipher, “I can’t just tell you. Besides, it only works if you want it too.”

Yoichi furrowed his brow, wondering if Kudou was expecting him to work it out from just that single, vague clue. If he did, he was going to be disappointed. Yoichi had no idea what Kudou meant, “I’m supposed to figure it out then?”

The wind stilled as Kudou stepped forward, lowering his face until it was just in front of Yoichi’s. He was so close Yoichi could feel the warmth of his breath against his skin. Yoichi froze as Kudou smiled wide enough to show his canines, eyes darting to Yoichi’s lips almost fast enough to miss. Yoichi shivered. His body was so warm he almost felt cold.

Kudou’s eyes flashed back up to his, and Yoichi was frozen again. There was something hypnotic about the way Kudou’s eyes only glinted red in the places where the light hit. Yoichi leaned in without even realizing it, tracing the reflection of the lamplight in Kudou’s eyes with his own gaze. His mind felt warm and hazy, not quite able to bring his body under its control. It was like he was under some enchantment where logical thought was somewhere just out of reach, though Yoichi wasn’t sure he’d want to reach for it even if he could.

Kudou must have noticed Yoichi’s helplessness, because his expression softened. He let his hand fall from Yoichi’s waist, reaching for Yoichi’s face. He moved slow enough for Yoichi to see him coming, for Yoichi to step away if he wanted to. Yoichi didn’t move, letting Kudou carefully tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

Kudou’s fingers were soft against his cheek, his touch gentler and kinder than Yoichi imagined was possible. His voice was soft as his knuckles brushed against Yoichi’s jaw, “Don’t worry about it too much. There’s no rush.”

 Yoichi couldn’t help it. He leaned into Kudou’s touch.

Kudou’s mouth parted in surprise as Yoichi murmured, “I want to know. There’s not much you could ask for that I wouldn’t be willing to give.”

Kudou swallowed, some inner conflict swirling behind his eyes. His voice was strained when he spoke, “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Then show me,” Yoichi whispered.

The wind began to blow again. It weaved its fingers through Yoichi’s hair, sending silver-white strands flying past Kudou’s fingers. Kudou didn’t seem to notice, his crimson eyes intense and unblinking as they stared. He leaned forward slightly, angling his head down until his face was even closer to Yoichi than before. Yoichi felt heat spark inside him, accompanied by a rush of something else. His eyes flickered down to Kudou’s lips. He wanted to be even closer. He wanted…

“Yoichi,” Yoichi shivered as Kudou’s mouth formed his name. Kudou’s voice was rough, like it was taking all his concentration to hold himself back, “Tell me if—"

Yoichi closed the distance.

His lips met Kudou’s mid-sentence, Kudou’s mouth still half open as it tried to form his question. Kudou stiffened and for a second, Yoichi was nearly overtaken by fear. His heart pounded in his chest, blood rushing through his ears. Maybe he’d misunderstood the situation. Maybe Kudou hadn’t wanted—

Kudou kissed him back.

His lips were soft against Yoichi’s, but there was urgency in the way he tangled his hands in Yoichi’s hair. He pulled Yoichi closer and Yoichi was lost in the feeling of his lips, of his skin against Yoichi’s own. His heart was hammering. He could barely breath. He never wanted it to end.

Yoichi made a small noise of protest as Kudou pulled back to breathe. Kudou only smiled against his lips, “You taste like Wintertrout.” Yoichi tensed in embarrassment, but Kudou just breathed a laugh, cupping Yoichi’s face in his hands,

“Reminds me of home.”

Chapter Text

Riding home from the ball, Yoichi had never been happier. He felt as if he were a leaf in the wind, floating far from anything that dared to pull him to the ground. Never before had he reached for anything and actually believed he could have it. But now… with Kudou…

Yoichi could still feel the ghost of Kudou’s lips against his own, and his tangled hair still held memories of Kudou’s fingers as they’d run across Yoichi’s scalp. His heart still beat unevenly as he thought of the way Kudou had stared at him, his eyes so soft and so warm. They’d looked the same as when Kudou talked about his home region—the place he loved more than anything.

He peeled off his mask as he snuck back past the guards to his room, soaking in the last touches of wind across his face before he reentered confinement. It was strange—even the familiar walls of the castle felt different. They felt brighter, like Yoichi was living a dream.

He cracked open the door to his room, still reveling in the feeling of weightlessness, still drowning in thoughts of Kudou’s touch. He didn’t notice the shadowy figure until it rose from beside the bed, towering over Yoichi with darkness in his eyes.

He didn’t see anything until it was too late.

The figure lunged, his fingers latching around Yoichi’s wrist, twisting and tightening. Yoichi gasped, trying to yank his hand away, but the hand only squeezed tighter.

“Don’t—” Yoichi pleaded, but it was no use. The king stepped closer to Yoichi, and though his expression was twisted in pain, his eyes remained empty. Yoichi couldn’t see a trace of humanity in them. He couldn’t even see his own reflection.

His skin crawled. He felt sick.

“My dear little brother,” the king’s words were a gentle caress masking an undercurrent of violence, a sickening dichotomy between sound and intention. “Why have you deceived me?”

“I didn’t—”

“Liar,” the king snarled, his voice cutting across the silence of the room. He pounced forward, slamming Yoichi against the wall with the hand that wasn’t gripping his wrist. His fingers wrapped around Yoichi’s throat, cutting off air. “How dare you lie to me?”

Yoichi choked, gasping for air as he stared into his brother’s eyes. Hands crushed the words from his throat until all that was left was panic, the nails of his free hand scrabbling in vain to escape the king’s hold.

The king didn’t budge, his face twisted with anger and betrayal, “I do everything to keep you safe. Why doesn’t that matter to you? You sneak out while I’m away, putting your life in danger. It’s as if you’re determined to throw away all that I’ve done for you.”

“I’m…” Yoichi wheezed, his lungs burning from the lack of air. There was darkness at the corners of his vision, creeping in dark tendrils towards his brother’s face. “…sorry…”

“Do you know what I thought, when I got back here to find your room empty?” The king paused a moment for Yoichi to respond, even though Yoichi could barely hold onto consciousness, much less form coherent sentences. “I thought you were dead. I thought my enemies had come to take you from me.”

There was genuine fear in his brother’s face as he said the words, his hand tightening around Yoichi’s wrist like if he held on tight enough, he could keep Yoichi by his side forever. Yoichi could feel his tendons strain and snap beneath the pressure, sending currents of pain up through his arm.

“That’s not…” Yoichi gasped in pain. “I-I just…”

The king’s grip tightened, his voice climbing with a shrill mix of fury and terror, “I give you everything you could need, and you still want more.” He leaned closer, until pale, empty eyes were all Yoichi could see. “Why? Am I not enough for you?”

He loosened his grip on Yoichi’s throat, just enough so that Yoichi could gasp, “…I just…wanted to see…” he sucked in a ragged breath, his words nearly dying on his tongue. “…the dancing.”

For a long moment, his brother just stared at him, eyes narrowed in confusion. Then, in a sudden movement, he let go of Yoichi.

Yoichi crumpled to the ground, cradling his wrist as his lungs filled with air. His brother towered above him, casting Yoichi in his long, dark shadow, “You fool. That world isn’t for you.”

His brother extended a hand, and Yoichi knew from the dark look on the king’s face that he had no choice but to grab it. He reached up with his good hand, even though the touch of his brother’s skin made his skin itch so badly that he wanted to tear it off.

His brother only smiled as he pulled Yoichi to his feet. When he spoke, his words held no further trace of venom, devoid of anger and filled with a syrupy tenderness instead.

“Consider this a lesson, dear brother.” He patted Yoichi’s head affectionately, as if Yoichi was nothing but a small child. “If you forget where you belong, you’ll only get hurt.”

“You didn’t come.”

A familiar silhouette crouched in the windowsill, outlined against a dark sky. Yoichi pushed himself upright in his bed, his heart lurching as he set aside the book of history he’d been reading, “Kudou?”

Kudou leapt to the ground, so agile he didn’t make a sound. Yoichi tugged up the collar of his shirt as Kudou stepped into the lamplight.

“I waited for you. At the ball,” Kudou said. “You didn’t come.”

It was the night of the ball already? Yoichi hadn’t realized. He’d spent most of the recent days in bed. The physician had demanded it, and even if he hadn’t, Yoichi had nowhere else to go. His brother’s eyes were always on him since he’d escaped to the dance, and on the few occasions that they weren’t able to be, the king had made sure to double and replace the guards posted around Yoichi’s chambers. His message was clear: there would be no more leaving—not even to the balcony. Unless the king willed it, Yoichi’s life would never intersect with another.

If he tried, there would be only pain.

He touched his neck again, heartbeat rattling in his chest, “You have to go. My brother—" His voice was hoarse, barely louder than a whisper. It cracked and died before he could finish his sentence.

 Kudou halted by his bedside, eyes widening with concern, “Your voice… Are you getting sick again?” His eyes traced Yoichi’s body, lingering on the splint around his forearm. “And your wrist. What happened to you?”

Yoichi pulled his left hand protectively towards his chest. It didn’t hurt as much anymore, but it still looked bad. Bandages were wrapped tightly around a splint that reached up his forearm.

“It’s fine,” Yoichi reassured him, forcing a sheepish smile while his heart pounded in his chest. “It was stupid, really. Tripped over my own feet and caught myself on my wrist. You already know from my dancing that coordination isn’t one of my strengths.”

Kudou didn’t smile. Yoichi swallowed hard, “And I haven’t spoken in a while. Been stuck up here with no one to talk to. That’s why my voice is strange.”

Technically, the voice part was true. Yoichi hadn’t talked in days. The physician had told him not to, in order to avoid straining his sore vocal cords.

Yoichi was scared of what he’d see in Kudou’s eyes, but to his relief, Kudou’s worry didn’t morph into suspicion. He only stared at Yoichi with deep concern, “Are you going to be alright?”

“I’ll heal in time,” Yoichi reassured him. “But Kudou, you really can’t be here. My brother will catch you.”

Kudou’s lips pressed into a frown, his brows creasing in confusion as he picked up on the anxiety in Yoichi’s voice, “Your brother is at the ball, just as he always is. He’s too busy hosting to come back here.”

“But the guards... If anyone sees you—” Yoichi’s voice wavered.

“No one ever sees me,” Kudou narrowed his eyes, cocking his head to study Yoichi. The sharp lines of his face were tight with worry. “What’s going on with you? You’re acting strange.”

“Nothing,” Yoichi said too quickly, tugging again at the neck of his shirt. It was a poor excuse for a lie, and Kudou knew him too well to be anything but suspicious.

“Clearly, it’s something,” Kudou insisted. He sat on the edge of Yoichi’s bed, his brows drawing together. “Is it…about the dance?”

Yoichi stiffened, staring at him in alarm. Kudou was too clever for his own good. Had he figured it out already?

Kudou hesitated, his eyes searching Yoichi’s face, “If you didn’t like the kiss, you can tell me. We don’t have to—”

Yoichi breathed a sigh of relief, “It’s not that.”

Kudou frowned, still tense, “Are you sure? Don’t lie to me, Yoichi. Not about this.”

“Promise,” Yoichi blushed, looking down at his hands. He’d craved the feeling of Kudou’s lips from the second Kudou had pulled away on the balcony.

“Oh,” Kudou let out a breath, his eyes flickering between shades of dark red and deep black in the lamplight. He hesitated, oddly uncertain as he turned toward Yoichi. “Good.”

Good. Such a small word, but it left Yoichi’s heart stuttering with hope.

Kudou’s long fingers rested at his sides, tapping out patterns against Yoichi’s bedsheets. The gesture seemed like a nervous habit, and Yoichi was tempted to still his hand by covering it with his own. He balled the sheets in a fist to resist the urge.

“Would you…” Kudou chewed on his cheek, his eyes darting from Yoichi back to his own lap like he was worried he’d looked too long. “Would you ever want to do it again?”

Yoichi’s eyes widened. He hadn’t dared to hope, but… Yes. It was all he wanted.

But he couldn’t admit it. It wouldn’t be fair, when Kudou had given him so much already, and he had nothing to offer in return.

“I don’t think I’ll be coming back to the balcony again,” Yoichi said instead, forcing his traitorous vision to focus on something besides Kudou. He chose the flickering lamp on the table across the room. “At least not soon. My brother replaced the guards. The new ones won’t allow me to sneak out.”

Kudou’s fingers halted above the sheets, his head swinging up toward Yoichi, “He’s keeping you here?”

Yoichi shrugged.

“For how long?”

The fire in the lamp was hard to look at for long. It burned Yoichi’s eyes, so much brighter than the soft shade of Kudou’s eyes. Yoichi found himself looking back at Kudou in spite of himself, “Usually he keeps me confined until my health improves.”

It wasn’t a real answer, but Yoichi wasn’t willing to admit that his brother had discovered him, and he likely wouldn’t have the opportunity to sneak away again for years.

“Your health,” Kudou’s voice had a strange edge to it, flat yet cutting. The sound disappeared before Yoichi had the chance to ask about it, and Kudou was back to smiling. “I suppose I’ll just have to find time to sneak back up here, then.”

Yoichi stared, “What?”

“It’s not so hard to climb to your window,” Kudou shrugged. Yoichi stared at him in bafflement. He was on the highest floor; the climb was likely very challenging. “We can make this room our balcony.”

Yoichi must look like a fool, his face slack and uncomprehending, “You’ll miss the dances.”

“As if that matters to me,” Kudou scoffed, though his smile flickered slightly as Yoichi continued to gape. “Unless you don’t want to see me?”

Yoichi hesitated. Kudou had a whole life—a full one that revolved around much more than Yoichi. It wouldn’t be fair to pull him from it by asking him to sneak up to Yoichi’s chambers every ball.

“Of course I do,” Yoichi answered slowly. “But I don’t want to take you from what’s important.”

Kudou just blinked at him, “You’re important.”

It was the first time Yoichi had heard those words in reference to himself. He wasn’t sure he could believe them, but the sound still left him speechless, a warm current rushing through his body.

Kudou continued speaking, as if he’d said something commonplace instead of mind-altering, “If this is the only place I get to see you, then this is where I’ll be. I’m not giving up my chance to have you in my life just because of a changing of the guard.”

It was more than just the guard, but Yoichi couldn’t explain without saying too much.

“It’ll cause you too much trouble,” he warned instead. “And if my brother finds out—”

“—he’ll kill me. I know,” Kudou finished the sentence. “I accept the risk.”

Yoichi sat up indignantly, “You can’t just—”

“You said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, but—”

“Then I’ll come.”

“The new guards told me you’ve been good,” his brother praised, pouring a glass of medicine and offering it to Yoichi. “No sneaking out anymore.”

Yoichi’s old guards had disappeared after his brother had caught him. Yoichi wasn’t sure what had happened to them, but he knew it wasn’t good. His brother’s rage had always been fearsome to behold.

Now, though, his brother seemed happy. Sometimes that could be even more terrifying.

“It seems you’ve finally learned your lesson,” his brother smiled as Yoichi accepted the cup. “Wouldn’t you agree, dear Yoichi?”

“Yes, brother,” Yoichi responded dully, staring straight ahead. He flinched as his brother’s hand landed on his head, gripping his hair in a fist and pulling it to turn Yoichi’s face towards him.

“Look at me when I speak to you,” he reprimanded, still with a smile on his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. They remained vacant and cold.

“Yes, brother,” Yoichi repeated, forcing himself to meet the king’s gaze. He saw nothing within it.

“Good,” his brother let go of him and Yoichi suppressed the urge to sigh in relief as the nauseating, squirming sensation went away. “You really worried me. When I came back and saw that you were gone…” he shuddered, the ghost of some old fear flitting across his face. “You have no idea what it was like for me.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Yoichi told him, careful not to anger his brother by looking away for even an instant. “I told you—I only wanted to see the dancing.”

“Yoichi,” the king sighed like Yoichi was nothing but a foolish, misbehaving child. “You can’t take risks like that. You don’t know what the world is like. There are so many people who would use you or hurt you if they learned your identity.” He frowned at Yoichi, his brows drawing together in a pained expression. “It would break my heart to lose you.”

Yoichi frowned, “Not everyone seeks to cause harm. There are kind people out there too.”

His brother’s eyes narrowed in clear disagreement, “Kindness is a tool used to lower defenses. No one is kind without a reason.”

“That can’t be true,” Yoichi argued. “Not everyone is kind because they hope to gain from it. Some people are kind because they’re good.”

The king sighed long-sufferingly, “You’re so innocent.” He reached forward again, and Yoichi braced himself as the king dragged a hand across his head, smoothing his hair. “This is exactly why you should listen to me. If you dared to leave, the cruelty of the world would rip you apart.”

Yoichi didn’t answer. He’d once believed his brother without question, but not anymore. The world outside wasn’t anything like the king had painted it.

“I heard you had a friend.”

Yoichi felt himself stiffen even as he tried not to react. His heart lurched unevenly in his chest, “What?”

“At the ball, you were seen speaking with the young lord from the eastern reaches,” his brother watched him carefully, his voice still even. “Was he kind to you?”

“He…” Yoichi swallowed, his mouth going dry. “Kind enough. We barely spoke.”

“Really?” his brother’s eyes narrowed. “I heard you snuck off with him.”

“T-that’s not true,” Yoichi’s voice climbed higher, unable to completely mask his fear.

“Good,” his brother nodded. “You did well to stay away from him. I know you have some strange fascination with the east, but truly, it’s a terrible place. Full of corruption. Full of rebels.”

“I heard it was beautiful,” Yoichi couldn’t help himself from saying, his mind flashing with Kudou’s stories.

His brother sniffed, “If you heard that from him, he’s a liar. That’s to be expected, I suppose, growing up in such a place.”

“You don’t know a thing about him,” Yoichi couldn’t keep himself from bristling, though his brother probably thought it was out of righteous anger rather than a desire to defend Kudou’s honor.

“I know more than I want to,” the king smiled. “More than you, probably, or you wouldn’t be so quick to defend him.”

“What are you talking about?”

The edges of the king’s smile sharpened into something knowing and dangerous. Yoichi knew that look. It meant his brother had found something and knew it—something Yoichi wanted that he could dangle tantalizingly in front of him.

The king nodded to the cup in Yoichi’s hand, “Drink that first.”

Yoichi forced himself to drain the cup of the bitter liquid. It stung his sore throat as he swallowed, but he endured it, turning to his brother expectantly.

“For all your reading about the east, you’ve missed the darker parts of its history,” his brother told him, still smiling too widely, too dangerously. “If there’s one person in this kingdom most likely to hurt you, it would be that man. He has all the motivation. And all the anger.”

Yoichi stared at him blankly. He’d never heard a description so inaccurate. Kudou wasn’t an angry person. He’d always been so thoughtful—watching Yoichi carefully and offering him things before he knew he wanted them. Yoichi hadn’t known anyone could be so kind.

It was obvious what this was. His brother was trying to deceive him. He was trying to mold Yoichi to see the way he did, to view every person as a self-interested creature who knew nothing but to take, take, take until nothing remained. Yoichi wouldn’t let it happen. He hadn’t believed in that worldview before meeting Kudou, and he certainly didn’t believe in it after.

He knew better than to openly disagree with the king, though. It would make his brother angry and suspicious, and Yoichi couldn’t afford for any of anger to be directed at Kudou.

“You’re right,” he said instead, slow and deliberate. “There’s too much about the history that I still don’t know. I shouldn’t form an opinion without learning about it, right?” he tilted his head at his brother innocently. “Do you know how I might learn? I haven’t been able to find any recent history books in the library.”

The king’s eyes slid across Yoichi’s face, silent and assessing. Yoichi knew from Kudou that his brother had locked away the histories for a reason, but if the king truly thought that reading them would sway Yoichi to see the way he did, maybe he would be motivated to rediscover them.

“I’ll take a look,” the king said finally. “Maybe I can find something you missed.”

Yoichi smiled so bright it hurt, “Thank you, brother.”

Yoichi had no way to track time, so he relied on whisperings from the guards to determine how close they were to the date of the next ball. When that day arrived, Yoichi waited, half afraid that Kudou wouldn’t reappear, half willing him to stay away.

His brother knew about Kudou now. Not about his true relationship with Yoichi, thankfully, but still enough to be dangerous. The king was possessive, and the idea of sharing Yoichi with anyone else would needle its way beneath the king’s skin until he lashed out. And if he did decide to strike, no one would have the strength to stop him.

Kudou wouldn’t be safe at the castle for long.

In the days after his talk with his brother, the realization had settled like a weight in Yoichi’s chest. He wanted so badly to see Kudou again, to hear the familiar timbre of his voice, but what they were doing grew more dangerous every day. Yoichi couldn’t endure it if his brother hurt Kudou because of him, which meant he couldn’t keep allowing Kudou to put himself at risk.

Yoichi had decided. This visit would be the last.

“You look worried.”

Yoichi jumped as Kudou materialized from the shadows next to him, eyeing him with concern. He hadn’t even seen him creep in through the window.

“Kudou,” Yoichi gasped. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Kudou agreed, though his brows were furrowed together as if he were troubled by something. He shifted his weight between his feet, standing awkwardly in the center of Yoichi’s room. “How are you? Your voice sounds better. How’s your wrist?”

“Okay,” Yoichi glanced down at his wrist. The splint was gone, but it still ached terribly. “It’ll take a bit longer to heal, but it’s better than it was.”

“I’m glad,” Kudou looked relieved. “I’ve been worried. I wish I could’ve seen you sooner.”

The words left Yoichi’s limbs warm and tingly. It took all his effort to remember his decision and refrain from jumping into Kudou’s arms.

“I’m fine,” he said, looking toward the floor. Kudou’s eyes made it hard for him to think.

Kudou stepped closer, tilting his head down to peer at Yoichi’s face, “You’re acting strange again. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Yoichi,” without looking, Yoichi could still feel Kudou’s frown. He could hear the dubious tone of his voice. “You can tell me.”

“I know that.”

Yoichi bit his lip, still looking anywhere but Kudou’s face. His eyes landed on Kudou’s hand. It twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for Yoichi but was holding himself back.

He sucked in a shaky breath, “I don’t think you should come back here.”

Kudou stiffened, his voice sharp and strained, “What?”

“It’s better…” Yoichi’s voice wavered. He exhaled unsteadily, drew another breath, and forced himself to go on. “It’s better if you stay away.”

Kudou was silent for a moment, “Is it you tell me this, or your brother?”

Yoichi jerked his head up in surprise. It was a mistake. Kudou’s eyes caught his own and held them, until Yoichi could bring himself to escape again, “I-it’s me. If my brother knew, you’d be dead.”

Kudou’s face was grave, his eyes hardened by intensity, “You’re still worried your brother will kill me.”

“Yes. No,” Yoichi stammered in response, even though Kudou phrased it as a statement rather than a question. “He’s dangerous.”

“I won’t let him catch me.”

“You can’t promise that,” Yoichi breathed, the words coming out like a hiss as his heart pounded in his chest.

 Kudou didn’t flinch, “I told you already: I accept the risk.”

“But I didn’t,” Yoichi retorted, unable to completely mask his frustration. Kudou didn’t know what his brother was capable of, or he wouldn’t be nearly so relaxed. None of it was a joke—the king really could kill him. Easily. Without a speck of remorse. “I never agreed to let you put yourself in danger. Especially not for my sake.”

Kudou looked momentarily surprised by the way Yoichi’s voice was rising, but he didn’t falter. Instead, his face tightened with resolve, “If your brother wasn’t a threat, would you still want me to leave?”

Yoichi swallowed. There was only one answer that might persuade Kudou to leave him behind.

“Yes,” he said, his voice even but his eyes falling back to the floor. “I don’t want to see you.”

He waited for Kudou to give up, to back away and disappear again. Instead, Kudou’s voice carried back to him, sharp and strong, “Tell me to my face.”

Yoichi forced his eyes back up to Kudou’s, “I…” his throat went dry at the look on Kudou’s face. It was at once rapt and endlessly patient. “I don’t…” Kudou waited. Yoichi tried again. “It isn’t safe.”

His mouth was a traitor, where Kudou was concerned.

Kudou sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his own tangled hair, “You’re not very convincing. Maybe you should have practiced beforehand.”

“I did,” Yoichi admitted. He winced as Kudou raised an eyebrow at him. “This isn’t a joke, Kudou. I want you to stay alive.”

“I’m not joking,” Kudou’s reply was immediate.

“Then you’re throwing your life away.”

The words were harsh, but Yoichi needed Kudou to understand the weight of what he was saying.

“I’m accepting the risk,” Kudou corrected firmly. He took a small step closer. “I know what your brother is like, but I can make my own decisions. And I meant what I said before. You’re important to me. I’m not going to give up unless you look me in my eyes and tell me honestly that it’s what you want.”

Yoichi had never seen anyone go against his brother like this before. He couldn’t quite comprehend it, “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Kudou frowned. “Because I like you. I thought you would’ve realized that by now.”

Yoichi just stared, bewildered and overwhelmed.

Kudou’s face softened, “Yoichi. You never answered my question.”

“What?” Yoichi felt more lost by the second.

“Last time. I asked if you ever wanted to do it again.”

“Do what?” Yoichi frowned. Kudou raised his eyebrows, and Yoichi felt his cheeks flush as the memory resurfaced. “Oh.”

Kudou took another step closer, “You’re too worried about me. I want to know what you want.”

“I—” Yoichi knew he should think of some new way to convince Kudou to leave, but Kudou’s eyes were piercing deep. He was falling into them, tripping over his own thoughts until it was hard to come up with words. “I don’t think I can…”

“You can tell me,” Kudou whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “It’s not a bad thing to think of your own needs, instead of just mine.”

Yoichi swallowed. His throat was drying out after so much speaking, but he managed a strained smile, “Seems like you already know.”

Kudou’s eyes glinted in the candlelight, “I want to hear you say it.”

Yoichi had probably never stood a chance of convincing Kudou to stay away, because Kudou had seen through him from the start. Yoichi had none of his brother’s talent for deception, and he couldn’t meet Kudou’s gaze without the truth leaking out from behind his own.

He wanted Kudou to stay in his life. He wanted Kudou to stay close to him.

The words escaped as a whisper, a truth Yoichi couldn’t hold back,

“I want you to stay.”

The corner of Kudou’s mouth twisted up, as if he were trying to hide a pleased smile. His eyes were warm like fire, but he didn’t move any closer. He only lifted a hand, hovering near Yoichi’s face, “Can I?”

Yoichi nodded shakily. Kudou’s fingers reached out, brushing against his skin, drawing a trail of warmth up his cheek. He traced the line of Yoichi’s jaw, his hands soft and warm as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind Yoichi’s ear.

He didn’t move closer, even as Yoichi stared straight into his eyes and silently willed him to. He was still keeping himself at a distance, as if he were waiting for something. Yoichi couldn’t think of what, when it was so obvious that his defenses had crumpled to dust from the second Kudou had caught his eye. Kudou could take anything from him, and Yoichi would willingly give it.

“Tell me what you want?” Kudou whispered again, his voice soft.

Kudou could take anything from him, but he wouldn’t. Not without knowing that Yoichi wanted it to.

In the face of that, Yoichi couldn’t find it in him to be anything but honest.

“You.”

Kudou’s half-smile widened, like could no longer even attempt to hide his pleased grin. He leaned forward, tangling his fingers in Yoichi’s hair as he pressed his lips to Yoichi’s mouth.

His lips were soft, tentative at first but quickly giving into the urgency with which Yoichi leaned into his embrace. Yoichi twined his arms around the back of Kudou’s neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, as he lost himself in Kudou’s embrace until he could feel nothing but Kudou’s touch. He pushed himself closer, wanting more with such desperation that he doubted even living inside Kudou’s skin would be enough.

But then Kudou’s lips moved to his neck, drawing a trail of kisses until his mouth pressed against the spot that still ached from his brother’s grip.

Yoichi flinched, gasping in pain.

Kudou pulled back immediately, hands falling to his sides, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” He stopped speaking abruptly. Yoichi watched with a sinking feeling as his eyes darkened, their focus locked on his neck. “What—"

“Kudou, it’s not…” Yoichi’s excuse died before it crossed his lips, fingers fumbling to tug at his collar, hiding his neck even though he knew it was too late.  The damage was done. Kudou had seen the marks that marred his skin, yellow and faded now but still unmistakable—the bruised imprints of his brother’s fingers as they’d crushed the air from Yoichi’s lungs.

Yoichi’s heart pounded, his breath catching in his chest. He hadn’t been thinking, so caught up in Kudou just like he always was. And just like always, he hadn’t even thought of the danger until it was too late.

Kudou moved fast, one second his face was level with Yoichi’s, his eyes fixed on Yoichi’s own. The next he was gone, jerking himself away as if being near him hurt. Yoichi felt his absence like a sharp pain in his chest, a chasm opening between them as Kudou turned away, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

“Please let me explain,” Yoichi whispered, trying not to sound too pleading.

To his relief, Kudou looked toward him, though that relief faded when he saw the look on Kudou’s face. The bitter look was back in Kudou’s eyes. Yoichi had caught flashes of it before, but never had he seen it so close to the surface. It twisted and festered in his beautiful face, hard and cold and the exact opposite of how Kudou looked when he spoke of home.

Kudou’s voice was stiff with anger, “He deserves to suffer.”

Yoichi’s heart stuttered with fear. He reached up and placed his good hand over Kudou’s mouth, “Don’t say things like that.”

Kudou pulled his hand away, holding it in his own. Even though his eyes were dark with rage, his grip was still gentle, “You don’t agree?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Yoichi told him gently, trying his best to be comforting. “This is the way things are.

Kudou pressed his lips in a firm line, “They don’t have to be.”

Yoichi sighed at the stubborn look in Kudou’s eye. It reminded him of himself, back before he’d given up on freedom, “Kudou—”

“Run away with me.”

“What?” Yoichi jerked his head up, staring at Kudou in shock.

Kudou stared back, eyes wide like he hadn’t expected those words to come out of his own mouth. He swallowed, resolve strengthening in his gaze, “I could… I could take you to the east. Your brother wouldn’t catch us.”

“I couldn’t,” Yoichi breathed, his heart pounding. “He’d have your head.”

“Not if he couldn’t reach me,” the words were rushing from Kudou’s mouth like they’d been building up for a long time. “I know my homeland. If we could make it there, I’d make sure he didn’t find us.”

Yoichi struggled with the torrent of emotion rising up inside of him, “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’d lose everything.”

“I’d lose my spot at court,” Kudou corrected. “But I’ve never cared about that. Everything I care about is already in the east.” He held Yoichi’s gaze. “Everything but you.”

“Kudou.”

“Please, Yoichi,” Kudou squeezed his hand. “You’re not fine. You’re not safe here. There are things you still don’t know. Your brother—”

“—is never going to give up on finding me,” Yoichi finished his sentence before he got the chance. “If you try to steal me away from him, he’ll never forgive you.”

“I don’t care about—”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Yoichi cut over him, his voice climbing.

Kudou jerked his head to stare at Yoichi in surprise, “But—"

“No,” Yoichi held out a hand, each heavy breath shaking as he exhaled. He forced his voice to be firm, ignoring the way his heart was tangled up and constricted in his chest. “He’ll hurt you. I won’t let that happen.”

 His voice cracked on the last sentence, and it wasn’t just from his injury. He ducked his head, blinking away tears. Kudou didn’t know what he was offering, what he was risking. If he did—if he truly knew what the king was like—he’d never make such a suggestion.

“Yoichi,” Kudou said his name again, his voice wrapping around it like a gentle caress. There was more tenderness than Yoichi had ever heard before in just the sound of his name. “You’re too selfless for your own good.”

Yoichi watched warily as Kudou slowly lifted a hand towards his face, his eyes full of compassion. Just as he was about to brush his thumb against Yoichi’s cheek, he let it fall back to his side like he’d thought better of it.

Yoichi’s breath hitched. He hated that Kudou was afraid to reach for him. Kudou was nothing like his brother. He was thoughtful and kind and never tried to cause Yoichi pain. Yoichi didn’t shudder at his touch. He craved it.

He reached for Kudou’s fingers with his good hand, pulling them up towards his face. Yoichi cradled them near his mouth, pressing his lips gently against the hard surface of Kudou’s knuckles.

“I’m not,” Yoichi whispered against the skin of Kudou’s palm. “If I were selfless, I would never have danced with you.”

Kudou studied him, his expression solemn, “It’s not selfish to want things. If you want to escape, then run away with me. Don’t worry about the risks. I can make my own decisions.”

“But what if you regret them?”

Kudou sighed, unfurling his fingers to brush Yoichi’s hair from his eyes, “I regret a lot of things, Yoichi. But not you. Never you.”

He leaned in, and Yoichi let him press a kiss against his lips. It was sweet and gentle, lacking the urgency of his earlier touch, and yet somehow deeper. It felt almost like a promise—a vow he was writing into the smooth surface of Yoichi’s skin.

When he pulled away, he smiled gently, “Just think about it. If you want to escape, you need only take my hand.”

Yoichi waited anxiously for Kudou’s next visit.

When the next ball arrived, Yoichi felt like he could hardly breathe through the anticipation. He wanted Kudou to be near him again--always wanted Kudou. But he was also more afraid than he'd been when he'd snuck away to the dance.

Kudou’s proposition still hung between the two of them, and Yoichi still wasn’t sure what he’d say. He only knew that he was running out of time. His brother knew about Kudou, and though Yoichi doubted he knew of how close they really were, he knew his brother was already suspicious. He was possessive, and the idea of sharing Yoichi with anyone else would needle its way beneath the king’s skin until he lashed out.

Frankly, Yoichi was surprised his brother hadn’t acted already. Even if the king believed they’d only spoken, in his brother’s eyes, that was enough of an offense to warrant retaliation. And as king, there was no one to stop him from striking back at Kudou as hard as he wanted. He could execute the young lord if he wanted, and no one would have the strength to stop him.

Instead, he’d done nothing.

That fact made Yoichi more uneasy than anything else. His brother didn’t just let things go. If he was taking a step back now, there had to be a reason for it. His recent words had only proved it. He knew something, and he was planning to use it against Kudou. Against both of them.

It made Yoichi sick. He’d always known his brother was a talented manipulator—it was how he’d managed to seize control of the kingdom at such a young age. The king had tried to manipulate Yoichi all of his life, playing sick games and lashing out when he didn’t get his way. But Yoichi could stand his brother’s behavior when he was the only one getting hurt by it. Now, with Kudou in danger, he knew he couldn’t let his brother get his way.

"Yoichi."

Yoichi swung his head toward the window in surprise. Kudou was already making his way across the room towards him.

“I’ve been worried about you," Kudou told him. "Your brother… I feel like he’s been watching me.”

Yoichi tensed. If Kudou had noticed, then the king was definitely plotting something. He felt a trickle of unease run down his spine.

“He probably has,” Yoichi told him, his voice grave enough that Kudou’s eyes widened in concern. “I meant to tell you last time, before…” he trails off, remembering the kiss and the revelations that followed. “He knows we went off together at the ball.”

Kudou’s eyes flashed with alarm, though he covered it up quickly, “Does he…know about…?”

He trailed off, lifting a hand to motion between the two of them. Yoichi blushed as he got the meaning, “No. At least, I don’t think so. I think you’d be dead if he did.”

Kudou made a noise of acknowledgement, though he didn’t look nearly as terrified as he should’ve been.

Yoichi took a deep breath, steeling himself, “Kudou, you know what this means.”

Kudou didn’t say anything, but his eyes were unblinking as they latched onto Yoichi’s.

“He’s planning something,” Yoichi said. “That’s the only reason he hasn’t done anything yet. But you’re in danger. He’ll want you punished.”

“Just for talking to you?” Kudou asked incredulously. “I thought he didn’t know about our…relationship.”

Yoichi flushed. The word relationship made things between them feel more tangible. He liked the sound of it.

“He doesn’t,” he answered. “But just talking to me is enough for him to want you dead. It’s how he is. It’s how he’s always been.”

Kudou gave a low whistle, but his eyes were hard. In the flickering candlelight, Yoichi could just make out that familiar bitterness as it flashed across his gaze. Just like always, it filled him with unease.

“So…what?” Kudou asked. “I’m just supposed to run?”

Yoichi blinked in surprise at the grudging note in Kudou’s voice, “I thought you were going to run anyway.”

“Only if you were going to come with me,” Kudou frowned at the ground, shifting awkwardly on his feet again. His voice was tentative as he looked up at Yoichi. “Are you?”

Yoichi hesitated. He’d known the question was coming, but that didn’t make it any less difficult to answer. He’d hoped that in the moment, the answer might suddenly become obvious to him, but that wasn’t the case. He was just as conflicted as ever.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. It was all he wanted. Freedom. To see the east with Kudou. In every dream, it was all he saw.

It was just that he was scared. If he ran, his brother would chase after him. And if he found them… Yoichi didn’t care what his brother did to him, but Kudou…

If the king did anything to hurt Kudou, Yoichi would never forgive himself.

He hesitated, staring into Kudou’s eyes like the answer lay somewhere in their crimson depths, “Can I ask you something first?”

Kudou shifted warily, “Sure.”

“Do you think we can make it?”

Kudou blinked, looking surprised, “Of course I do.”

“Really?” Yoichi breathed. “Be honest with me. Do you truly believe there’s anywhere my brother couldn’t find us?”

Kudou stared at him for a long moment, a strange look on his face. Then, after the longest silence, he tilted his head back and laughed.

“Yoichi,” he gasped. Yoichi watched in complete bewilderment as he slowly recovered from his fit of laughter. “I forgot you’ve never been beyond the castle. The world is big. So big that no one can truly wrap their heads around its enormity. And your brother can’t be everywhere.”

Yoichi just blinked at him, not quite understanding.

“There’s a reason the rebellion in the eastern reaches was such a problem for your brother,” Kudou explained, his tone sobering. “The eastern regions lay at the edge of his reach, and the people out there hold no fondness toward him. Even with all of the military might of the continent, he only just had the strength to crush that rebellion.”

Kudou grinned, his expression distant, “That poor little region he always looked down on had all the capability to humiliate him completely. And they still do.” He took a breath, gaze focusing back on Yoichi. “I meant what I said before. We make it to the east and your brother will never be able to find us.”

Yoichi stared, finding it difficult to process the genuine conviction in Kudou’s voice or the pride in his face. Kudou believed it. He truly believed they could escape his brother’s hold, the hold that had choked and smothered him for his whole life.

Could it be that easy? Yoichi trusted Kudou, but he also knew his brother in a way that Kudou didn’t. Kudou hadn’t seen the emptiness of his brother’s cloudy eyes, nor felt the dark promise engraved in the king’s nauseating touch. He didn’t understand the lengths the king would go to ensure that Yoichi remained his.

But Kudou was right. Yoichi didn’t know the world beyond the castle walls. He didn’t know how far it stretched, or how easy was to hide in its dark corners and crevices. Maybe—somewhere far beyond the castle walls—there was a place even his brother couldn’t reach.

If it existed, Yoichi wanted to find it. He wanted to go and live there forever, or at least as long as his illness would let him.

“But…there’s still a lot of land to cover before we get to the east,” Yoichi reminded Kudou, his tone subdued. “My brother will track us down before we get ten leagues from the palace.”

“He won’t,” Kudou’s voice was firm. “I’ve got a plan for that—friends who are willing to help.”

Yoichi eyed him in surprise, “You have a plan already?”

If Kudou was already considering ways to sneak Yoichi out of the castle, then he must believe that Yoichi would agree to come with him.

A hint of color crawled up Kudou’s neck, “I know you’re still making up your mind, but I thought I’d start planning anyway. That way, we’ll have options if you decide to join me…” He trailed off, and Yoichi could see the unspoken question in his eyes.

Do you want to join me?

Yoichi wavered. Just like always, Kudou made everything sound so simple, so easy. Even when it wasn’t.

“I… If anything happened to you—” Yoichi started.

“It won’t,” Kudou told him.

“But—"

Kudou just grinned darkly, “I’ve got no intention of letting your brother kill me.”

That doesn’t mean anything, Yoichi wanted to exclaim. His brother didn’t care about intentions. If he had the chance, he would kill Kudou without any regard for what the young lord wanted. Actually, he’d probably go out of his way to do the opposite of what Kudou willed, just to make him suffer for longer.

Kudou must have seen the frustration in Yoichi’s face, because his tone softened, “You don’t have to worry. I would never suggest we run if I thought you’d end up back in captivity. That would be pretty pointless, don’t you think?”

Yoichi just stared, unable to come up with a response.

Kudou offered Yoichi a small smile, “And I’ve thought a lot about what it would be like, living out there with you. I wouldn’t do that if I believed it was hopeless.”

“You’ve…” Yoichi swallowed hard, a painful lump in his throat. “Thought about the future?”

“Sure,” Kudou nodded easily, like he wasn’t admitting to something perilous, “We can do all the things we talked about. I could teach you how to catch Wintertrout, like you asked. I might even be persuaded to dance with you, if you really wanted.

“You don’t have to live in fear of your brother,” Kudou whispered, his words ringing with promise. “I wish I could get you to believe that.”

His eyes were shining, flickering with fire and dreams. There was no trace of bitterness left, and as Yoichi stared, he was certain he was looking at the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.

Kudou was beautiful. The life he painted was beautiful. And Yoichi wanted it more than anything.

He sucked in a slow breath and released it slowly, “I don’t believe it.”

Kudou’s face fell, his eyes flashing with disappointment.

“But I want to,” Yoichi hesitated, his words thick on his tongue as Kudou glanced back at him. “And… I want to come with you.”

Kudou’s eyes widened, surprise quickly morphing into delight. His smile grew until it engulfed his whole face, sparkling in his eyes until Yoichi had no choice but to smile back, “Really?”

Yoichi nodded tentatively, and in just a couple steps, Kudou was right in front of him, arms reaching toward him.

He hesitated right before they touched, swinging back like he’d just remembered himself, “Sorry. Can I…?”

“Yes,” Yoichi laughed, letting Kudou wrap his arms around him and squeeze. He twisted his own arms around Kudou’s back, laughing as Kudou buried his head between Yoichi’s shoulder and neck, nuzzling his skin. He rested his chin on Kudou’s shoulder, savoring the warmth of Kudou’s body and wishing he never had to leave his embrace.

“You’re really coming,” Kudou murmured against his neck, sounding like he couldn’t quite believe it. Yoichi couldn’t believe it, either, but he felt more hopeful than he had in a long time.

“I’m really coming,” he agreed, smiling against Kudou’s skin as he felt Kudou squeeze him tighter. His words poured out, dreams that he’d never had the courage to voice before, “I’ve always wanted to know all about you, you know. And now I finally get to see where you’re from, the places you’re always talking about. I can meet your friends, your family…”

He trailed off in surprise. Kudou had stiffened against him as soon as he’d said the word family. Yoichi might not have noticed if they’d been standing apart, but when they were wrapped around each other, it was impossible to overlook.

Kudou carefully disentangled himself from Yoichi, just pulling back enough for Yoichi to see his face. It was soft and gentle as he ran a hand along Yoichi’s jaw, “Soon enough, you’ll know everything about me.”

Yoichi wondered if he imagined the note of dread in Kudou’s voice.

The days that passed in the wake of Kudou’s visit whirled and dragged until Yoichi’s perception of time degraded entirely. Sometimes it seemed to hang around him like a dense fog, each day stretching out into forever. Other times—or sometimes even concurrently—time would hurtle by, as if he were dashing almost too rapidly toward the day he’d make his escape. He couldn’t always tell which version he preferred.

About a week later, Yoichi hadn’t heard anything new from Kudou. He expected that Kudou still needed time to put things into place, and that it might be days or weeks until he was ready to run. Yoichi hoped it was soon, and not just because he’d waited his whole life to escape the walls of the castle.

His brother was beginning to worry him.

He’d dragged Yoichi along for dinner the night prior, just the two of them in the great hall that the king often used for banquets and fancy meals. The king sat at the head of the long, wooden table and Yoichi claimed the seat facing him on the other end, farthest from his reach.

His brother had smiled as he’d watched Yoichi pick at a golden platter loaded with food, “Not hungry, dear brother?”

Yoichi shook his head, swallowing a bitter response. Since his brother had locked him in, he barely moved beyond pacing the floor of his room. He was hardly working up an appetite.

“Has something upset you?” the king frowned at him questioningly.

Yoichi dug his nails into the firm wood of the table, but they didn’t leave a mark, “I don’t understand why you won’t let me leave my room. I’m not asking to go outside, but if I could just visit the library—”

He broke off as the king held up a hand, “We’ve been over this, Yoichi.”

“Yes, but—”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I wouldn’t even have to see anyone,” Yoichi argued. “The old guards used to take me.”

“The old guards were incompetent,” the king snapped. Yoichi watched anxiously as a flicker of anger crossed his face. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Yoichi. Why can’t you understand? You’re in danger out there.”

Yoichi wanted to argue. At the very least, he wanted to question the king, to demand to know how the danger he faced outside was any greater than what he faced from his own brother. Another time he would’ve asked, but this time he held his tongue. He knew it wouldn’t end well, and he couldn’t risk any more negative attention from his brother with Kudou’s escape plan on the horizon.

The king’s expression softened, his tone evening out, “Don’t fret, brother. I haven’t forgotten about the books you asked for. I’ll have them sent to your chambers soon.”

He offered a smile, and it took all of Yoichi’s effort not to meet it with a glare. It was another manipulation disguised as kindness. A little act to make Yoichi think he cared, to distract Yoichi from asking for anything even close to freedom. He wouldn’t let himself fall for it again.

Until his escape, though, he would have to play along. He swallowed hard, forcing a smile and hoping he was far enough away that the king couldn’t realize it was a strained, disingenuous thing,

“Thank you, brother.”

“Of course,” the king’s smile grew wider. In the candlelight, it looked twisted and grotesque. “For you, anything.”

It sounded nice, and a long time ago, Yoichi might’ve believed it. But he’d lived beneath his brother’s thumb long enough to know what it meant.

His brother would go to great lengths to achieve his goals, but Yoichi’s happiness had never been one of them. There was only one thing that mattered to him, and it was keeping Yoichi by his side.

He’d do anything to make him stay.

True to his word, his brother sent a servant to deliver books to Yoichi’s quarters. He stopped by not long after dinner, leaving them on the table without a word.

When the servant had left, Yoichi debated leaving the books untouched out of protest, but his curiosity got the better of him. He picked through the books, looking for titles that might reveal the mysterious history his brother had wanted erased. The titles inscribed on the old, faded covers betrayed very little.

He picked up the book on the top, a thick tome titled Genealogy of the Noble House of the Eastern Reaches, and dusted off the cover with his sleeve. The first few pages he flipped through were written in the smallest, most cramped scrawl he’d ever seen, with no images to be seen. It was a written ancestry, dating back further than Yoichi could wrap his head around.

He scoffed, setting the book on his nightstand. Maybe this was his brother’s attempt to stifle Yoichi’s interest in the east—by boring him to death with the most mind-numbing books he could find.

He flipped through the rest of the books, but they were all the same. Long-winded histories that seemed to be written with very little passion. Yoichi knew he’d eventually be bored enough to broach them, but that night, he was already tired after dealing with his brother. He set them aside in favor of an old childhood favorite he kept by his nightstand—the tale of a valiant hero’s triumph against a terrifying demon lord.

“What are you reading?”

Yoichi jumped, his face swinging upward. He’d quickly become so engrossed in the story that he didn’t even hear when Kudou climbed through his window.

“Sorry,” Kudou rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, coming to sit on the side of Yoichi’s bed. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yoichi offered him a smile, scooting over to make room for him on the bed. He showed Kudou the book, slightly embarrassed. “I used to love this story when I was a little kid. And, well…I guess I still do.”

Kudou scooted closer, his eyes softening as they landed on the picture of the hero, “I think I remember this one. My mother used to read it to me.” He offered Yoichi a soft smile. “It’s a good story.”

Yoichi smiled back, leaning against Kudou’s shoulder, “It is, isn’t it?” He glanced up, blinking at Kudou curiously. It wasn’t the night of a ball, like it usually was when Kudou visited. “I wasn’t expecting you. Are you here to run away with me?”

Kudou didn’t look prepared for it. He seemed too relaxed, no sign of urgency as he leaned his head back against the headboard of Yoichi’s bed.

He shook his head, “Not yet. I just wanted to see you.”

Yoichi nodded, relaxing slightly. As much as he wanted to run, it felt so soon. He wasn’t at all prepared, and he was still exhausted after dinner with his brother.

“I do need to speak to you, though,” Kudou said, his voice growing more somber. Yoichi glanced up at him warily. “About the plan. I wanted to explain it in person. Leaving a letter is too risky.”

Yoichi nodded in understanding. He’d never really had much semblance of privacy. If Kudou dropped off a letter, there was no guarantee that the servants wouldn’t find it and turn it over to his brother.

“I’m planning on the night of your brother’s next ball. He’ll be occupied, then.”

Inside his chest, Yoichi’s heart sped up, pumping blood and apprehension through his veins. His brother’s next ball was only days away.

He felt jumpy, his skin thrumming with a mix of exhilaration and fear. Time was passing so strangely. The day of the next ball would be upon him before he could realize it, and then they would run.

He felt Kudou turn to him, “Are you afraid?”

Yoichi nodded, reaching for Kudou’s hand. He grabbed it, holding Kudou’s fingers between his own. His worry wasn’t for himself—he had nothing to lose—but he was terrified for Kudou.

“You’re right to be. It’s going to be dangerous,” Kudou’s hand curled upward, his fingers squeezing Yoichi’s back. “But I’ve been working on this escape plan for weeks. We’ll be okay.”

“Do you believe that?” Yoichi asked, watching Kudou’s face carefully.

“I do,” Kudou answered solemnly. “I’m doing everything I can to make this work. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to explain everything to you, so that you’re ready. So that if there’s anything at all that you’re not comfortable with, we can work something else out.”

Yoichi stared at Kudou for a long second, searching his expression for any trace of dishonesty. He didn’t see it. Just like before, Kudou seemed to thoroughly believe what he was saying. It was still a surprise to Yoichi, especially after just speaking with his brother.

He nodded slowly, and after a moment, he relaxed back against Kudou’s shoulder, “Okay. Tell me what you have planned.”

“We—” Kudou cut himself off, his eyes locking onto something past Yoichi’s shoulder. Yoichi watched them widen, his stomach tightening in fear. Had someone seen them? He shifted back upright, jerking his head to follow Kudou’s eye, but there was nothing there except the thick book he’d left on his nightstand.

He turned back to Kudou in confusion. Kudou still wasn’t looking at him, his eyes glued to the book, “What is that?”

“What?” Yoichi traced Kudou’s line of sight for a second time, but the dusty tome his brother had left him was still the only thing in view. He laughed uncertainly, “Oh. I-it’s an old genealogy book my brother sent me. I think he’s trying to kill my interest in the Eastern regions by boring me to death.”

His smile faded as he turned back at Kudou. Yoichi watched with growing apprehension as a muscle clenched in Kudou’s jaw, “You said…your brother left it?”

Yoichi nodded, his anxiety quickly flooding back through him. Kudou’s gaze finally returned to him, nearly pinning him to the spot with its sudden urgency.

“Did you read it?”

“I- No,” Yoichi answered. “I scanned the first few pages, but it’s so dense… Kudou, is something wrong?”

Kudou’s eyes flickered, as if he’d only just realized he was behaving strangely. He let go of Yoichi’s hand to run a hand through his hair, “No. Nothing.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it. It hung in the space between them, pushing them apart with all its might.

Yoichi shifted, no longer leaning quite so heavily on Kudou’s shoulder, “It’s not nothing.”

Kudou didn’t deny it. He didn’t say anything, staring pointedly away from Yoichi.

“You can tell me,” Yoichi offered, though part of him knew that Kudou wouldn’t. Despite everything, there was still a part of him that hid where Yoichi couldn’t see. He still had secrets, and though Yoichi didn’t doubt that Kudou cared about him, it hurt to know that he still didn’t trust him. Not completely, anyway.

Sure enough, Kudou shook his head, “I’ll…tell you another time.”

He still wasn’t meeting Yoichi’s eye, and Yoichi couldn’t see the same sincerity in his face as he’d seen before. Yoichi hesitated, glancing toward the book on his nightstand. Clearly it had upset Kudou in some way. He hadn’t wanted Yoichi to read it. Why?

Yoichi’s thoughts raced. The book included the history of the noble bloodline that ruled the Lakes region. Kudou’s bloodline. Could that have something to do with it? Kudou was probably too young to be more than a name, but the lives of his older relatives were probably in the record somewhere.

“Is it about your family?”

Yoichi’s heart sunk as Kudou shut his mouth abruptly, his eyes swinging to Yoichi. Yoichi noted the tension in Kudou’s shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, and he couldn’t help himself from remembering his brother’s warning,

For all your reading about the east, you’ve missed the darker parts of its history.

“Your family…” Yoichi started again. “Are they…?”

He trailed off, unsure of himself. He didn’t know how to ask whether they were in the book, or whether he even should. It hurt that Kudou was keeping secrets even though Yoichi trusted him completely, but Kudou’s history was his story to tell.  Yoichi shouldn’t have pried. Especially at his brother’s prompting.

Kudou didn’t move, his body still stiff. Yoichi suspected he’d ignore the question—almost hoped he would—until the answer came in a single, brutal word, “Dead.”

Yoichi jerked backward in surprise, staring at Kudou’s face. The nobleman was carefully expressionless, his eyes blank and dull.

“I’m so sorry,” Yoichi squeezed his shoulder. “How did they…?”

Kudou stared at him for a long moment, like he was weighing answers on his tongue. At one point, his mouth opened, his eyes wide and determined, but then he slammed it shut abruptly, wrenching himself away.

He paced to toward the open window, not looking back, “I’ll tell you another time. It’s a long story, and it’s not pretty.”

“But—” Yoichi climbed to his feet, starting after him.

“Anything else, Yoichi,” Kudou’s tone was sharp and nearly desperate. “Ask me about anything else, and I’ll tell you. Just not that. Please not that.”

“Is the answer in the book?”

Kudou froze mid-step. His back was to Yoichi, so he couldn’t see his face, but he could see the tension between his shoulder blades. He swore he could feel the atmosphere in the room shift.

“I could read it,” Yoichi sucked in a breath. “If it’s easier than having to explain.”

The answer was in the pages. After Kudou’s reaction, Yoichi was certain of it. If Kudou really couldn’t talk about it, maybe it would be easier to search for the truth for himself, to save Kudou the discomfort of having to explain.

He’d meant the suggestion as a kindness, but it wasn’t received that way. Yoichi nearly shivered as Kudou slowly turned around. His face was terrible to behold—a whirling maelstrom of anger and suspicion and fear.

Kudou stared at Yoichi, his voice cold, “This is your brother’s fault.”

“I—” Yoichi’s voice died in his throat. “What are you talking about?

“He’s playing games with me, Yoichi,” Kudou’s eyes flashed, his hands curling into fists.

“Kudou—"

Kudou’s expression darkened, “That sick fucking bastard. I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known.” He slammed a fist on the table, hard enough to make Yoichi jump.

“The guards will hear,” Yoichi hissed in warning. Kudou didn’t look at him, but he lifted his fist from the table and balled it at his side instead. “Kudou, tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me.”

Kudou looked away, down at the ground, “I can’t tell. I really can’t. But if I don’t, then you’ll read it. And if you don’t read it, he’ll make sure you learn. Fuck. Fuck.”

His voice rose like he wasn’t even aware of it, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He was breathing hard, his face pale. Yoichi had never seen him like this before. Kudou was always so confident and self-assured, and now…

He was panicking. And Yoichi had no idea why.

Yoichi stepped closer before Kudou could stop him, hands reaching out to either side of Kudou’s face. He lifted Kudou’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Breathe,” he instructed, keeping his tone calm. “Kudou, whatever it is, it’ll be okay. You can tell me.”

Kudou’s eyes finally met his, latching on like he was afraid to let go, “You don’t understand, Yoichi. You’ll hate me.”

Yoichi frowned, his fingers brushing against Kudou’s cheek, “I could never.”

“Yoichi…” Kudou sighed. There was still apprehension in his eyes, but his panic began to drain away, leaving him empty and exhausted. Yoichi watched with wide-eyed concern as he slumped in on himself. “Please don’t ask me to explain.”

Yoichi hesitated. He hated the pained expression on Kudou’s face. He didn’t want Kudou to feel that way because of him, and yet…

“I’m trusting you with everything,” Yoichi told him. “I’m sorry, Kudou, but I know you’ve been keeping secrets from the start. And that’s fine. I don’t need to know everything, but…I do need you to trust me a little. Give me something.”

Kudou blinked, “Your brother really didn’t tell you?” He laughed bitterly when Yoichi shook his head. “Of course he didn’t. He wanted you to hear it from me, or you wouldn’t believe it.”

“I don’t—”

“Fine,” Kudou said. “I’ll answer your questions. I don’t really have a choice.” He sucked in a shaky breath, straightening his spine. “My family, right?”

Yoichi nodded, watching as Kudou exhaled slowly.

“Your brother killed them,” Kudou forced the words from behind a clenched jaw. Yoichi stiffened in shock. “It happened when I was still a young boy. Your brother was young too, but just as cruel as ever. He caught them, and he executed them all in front of me.

“I was the youngest son, so he let me live to carry on our noble line,” Kudou reached up, his hands tracing the jagged scar that curved from his forehead to his nose. “But he didn’t let me escape unscathed. He gave me this scar, and he told me that if I ever thought of following in my family’s footsteps, this scar would mark the place where he cleaved me apart.” He smiled at Yoichi, though his eyes were mournful. “He made it clear. I wouldn’t live to defy him twice.”

Yoichi stared, his mind whirling. His brother had killed Kudou’s family. What reason could he have had to do something so cruel?

“Why?” Yoichi breathed in horror. “Why would he kill them?”

“It’s all in the books he confiscated from the library,” Kudou offered a grim smile, tapping the cover of one of the thick genealogy books. “They rose up against him. They were the leaders of the rebellion against the king.”

Yoichi reeled back in astonishment. He’d heard of the rebellion, but always as a distant, hushed rumor. He’d never made the connection that it had happened during their lifetimes, or that Kudou might be directly connected to it. Kudou had been right—his brother had been thorough in burying that part of the kingdom’s history.

Kudou’s family had been rebels. Their lives had been dedicated to fighting the king. And the king had taken them all from Kudou, right before his eyes. It was enough to tear anyone apart, to fill a whole life with resentment and anger and regret.

“He took them from you,” Yoichi whispered, his voice soft. “And you’re angry.”

Kudou nodded, “How could I not be? He stole away everything that I loved.”

And Yoichi saw it, glinting in his eyes. Rage. All this time, Kudou had been angry. It had always been there, lurking beneath the surface in the bitter look that lingered behind Kudou’s eyes.

Yoichi just hadn’t wanted to see it. He hadn’t wanted to think about what might be causing it.

“Are you…” Yoichi hesitated, his tongue thick and dry in his mouth. “Are you angry with me?”

“What? No,” Kudou said vehemently. “Never.”

“But you want to hurt him,” Yoichi said. It wasn’t really a question. They both knew the answer. Kudou had even said it to him, when he’d seen how the king had hurt Yoichi.

He deserves to suffer.

Kudou nodded miserably, watching as Yoichi’s mind jumped across each of their interactions, assessing them from a new angle. All of the times he’d thought Kudou was keeping secrets, had it always been this?

His mind flitted through memories until it snagged on one. A single comment Kudou had made—one that had never made sense to Yoichi. It filled him with trepidation as he thought of it now.

“You never told me how you found the balcony,” Yoichi said suddenly, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. He hoped—prayed—he was wrong, but the look of dread in Kudou’s eyes didn’t leave him with much hope. “You always just said you were looking up. Was that true?”

Kudou took a long time to reply, “You already know the answer, don’t you?”

Yoichi bit down on the inside of his cheek until blood welled in his mouth. He barely tasted it over the throbbing pain inside of his chest, as if something fragile was slowly cleaving apart.

“Tell me.”

Kudou sucked in a breath, “I was looking up because I was looking for you.”

“And why were you looking for me?”

Kudou looked completely miserable, sunken in on himself with an expression of utter self-loathing. His words, when he spoke, were so quiet Yoichi almost missed them, “Because I was going to kill you.”

And Yoichi knew. He’d known it was coming.

It didn’t stop his heart from cracking in his chest, the pain of it all leaving him clawing for breath.

“But, Yoichi, I didn’t,” Kudou breathed, his tone thick with desperation. “I changed my mind as soon as I saw you. I realized that it was a mistake. And…I saved your life, remember?”

“Did you realize it was a mistake?” Yoichi asked dangerously. “Or did you decide you wanted to use me against my brother in a different way?”

“Yoichi, I wasn’t—”

Yoichi just stared, his voice as hollow as he felt inside, “Was that all this was? You were just…seducing me? Trying to turn me against my brother so you could get your revenge?” He felt worse than he’d ever felt in his life, but when he swiped at his eyes, they were still dry. “Was any of it real?”

“Yes. Yes,” Kudou stepped toward him, but stopped as Yoichi flinched back. “Yoichi, I swear. I wasn’t trying to seduce you. I did entertain the idea of using you against your brother for a little bit, at the beginning. But as soon as I realized how I felt, I let all that go. I swear I did.”

Yoichi just took another step back, the pain in his chest jabbing through his lungs with every breath. He exhaled shakily, forcing himself to meet Kudou’s eye even though it hurt, “How am I supposed to trust you?”

Kudou’s voice was small and dejected, his gaze searching Yoichi’s for something he couldn’t find, “I don’t know.”

The wound in Yoichi’s heart only deepened.

It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. He wanted Kudou to pull out something convincing, something that would make things go back to the way they had been before he’d found out the truth. He wanted to trust Kudou wholeheartedly again—to be willing to risk everything for him without a second thought.

It hurt more than anything that he couldn’t, that he likely never would again. Kudou was the only person he’d ever believed had truly cared about him, and it was all a lie.

He’d only been a pawn in Kudou’s revenge game, and he’d been played like a fool. Because Yoichi might mean nothing to Kudou, but Kudou was everything to him.

He loved him. Even now.

“You should go,” Yoichi told him, keeping his voice as harsh as he could manage. “Leave. Before my brother catches you.”

He needed Kudou to leave. The king would still come for him if he stayed.

Kudou faltered, his voice hoarse, “What about you? You said you’d come.”

“You really think I can?”

“It’s better than staying here,” Kudou’s lips pressed together, his eyes hardening with just a little of the old stubbornness. “I know you don’t trust me, but I would never hurt you.”

Yoichi knew he was a fool, but he believed Kudou meant it. When he stared into his eyes, all he saw was sincerity. Kudou might’ve wanted to use him, but he didn’t want to hurt him. Not like his brother did, at least.

But even though he didn’t want to, Kudou had hurt him. His confession hurt more than any blow from the king ever could, because Yoichi had trusted him. After so long, he’d let himself believe in something again, and it had all been a lie.

“I can’t,” Yoichi whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. Kudou flinched at the sound of it.

“Yoichi, please—”

“I can’t.”

“You’re not safe here,” Kudou protested, his tone pleading. “Your brother—”

“I’ll be okay,” Yoichi told him. “He won’t kill me. He wants me at his side too badly for that.”

“That— That’s not—” Kudou stammered, clearly not getting the response he wanted from Yoichi. He cut himself off, swallowing hard. “He’s— He’s hurting you. Yoichi, it’s—”

“I know how to handle my brother,” Yoichi dismissed him. “I’ve been doing it for two decades.”

“You don’t understand,” Kudou’s voice rose, his eyes wide and begging for Yoichi to understand. “He’s poisoning you. Listen to me, it’s in the—”

“Kudou,” Yoichi held up a hand, cutting him off midsentence. Kudou’s words died in his throat, his face slowly crumpling with defeat.

“I just want you to be safe,” Kudou whispered brokenly. “I know you don’t believe me, but I do care about you. You deserve better than this life.”

Yoichi didn’t answer. He could barely hear. His thoughts were leagues away, and he was drowning in them.

“I know it’s not fair to ask,” Kudou started. “But please come with me. Just until we’re safe, and then you never have to see me again, if you don’t want. Just…please.”

He never thought he’d see Kudou beg, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel any sort of way about it. All he felt was empty—tired and drained and cold.

Yoichi turned from the window, turning his back to the wind and the sky. He faced Kudou, watching the moonlight reflect in his crimson eyes, “You’re asking me to put my faith in you, but everything you’ve said to me has been lies.”

“That’s not true—”

“I can’t,” Yoichi said again, his voice so final that Kudou flinched. “I can’t trust you. I’m sorry.”

Kudou nodded. He looked like he expected it, but his face still looked shattered and hopeless.

Yoichi hated to see him like that.

“But,” Yoichi started. Kudou looked up in surprise. “I still want you to be happy.” He hesitated, his voice quiet. “If revenge is what you want, then take it. You could…hurt me, if you want. Kill me, if it’ll help you feel less angry.”

Kudou didn’t say anything. He only stared at Yoichi in dismay and disbelief. Yoichi stared back in confusion. He’d thought it was what Kudou wanted, but maybe he’d been wrong.

“Yoichi,” Kudou finally recovered enough to speak. “That’s not what I want.”

Yoichi squinted in confusion, “But…my brother would be devastated.”

“Maybe,” Kudou agreed. “But so would I.”

Yoichi blinked.

“I’ve been so angry for so long,” Kudou murmured. “But I don’t want to be. I don’t want to live like this.” He ran a hand through his hair, and Yoichi thought for just a second that he might be on the edge of tears. “I thought that getting revenge would make it better, but I was wrong.

“There were only a few times I didn’t feel angry anymore,” Kudou explained. “And it was always when I was around you.”

Yoichi opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say, what to believe. He didn’t know what Kudou was trying to tell him.

Kudou took a step toward the window, and Yoichi couldn’t bring himself to step away as Kudou stopped in front of him.

“I’ll come back for you,” he whispered, leaning closer. Yoichi didn’t move toward him, but he didn’t move away either. “I’ll keep coming back for you. Just in case there’s ever a day when you change your mind.”

He hovered for a second, and Yoichi almost thought he’d kiss him. He almost wished he would, even though it would only worsen the already-lethal injuries to his heart.

At the last second, Kudou seemed to think better of it. He turned away, sweeping past Yoichi until his warmth was gone, until all Yoichi felt was the chill caress of the wind.

“Don’t do that,” Yoichi warned. “Don’t come back. Go far away from here, where my brother can’t reach you.”

When Kudou didn’t reply, Yoichi spun around, hands reaching out to grab him and shake sense into him. To make him realize that the king would never let him return, that he’d die if he attempted anything so foolish.

It was probably an empty promise anyway, but on the off chance that it wasn’t, Yoichi couldn’t bear to see Kudou put himself in danger.

But when he turned around, there was nothing there but cool breeze and open sky. The room was as dull and empty as Yoichi felt, dark beyond the dim flicker of candlelight.

Kudou was already gone.

Chapter Text

His brother found him when the sun rose, still standing dazedly before the open window. He hadn’t moved, frozen in place as the wind turned his skin ice-cold.

“Poor little brother,” the king crooned, pulling him into his arms. “He’s wronged you, hasn’t he?”

Yoichi stiffened, overwhelmed by certainty that the king had known this would happen. He’d planted suspicion in Yoichi’s head, then left those books on purpose, all so Yoichi would know that Kudou was a liar.

And he’d been right. It made Yoichi sick.

The king tugged Yoichi to his chest, one hand smoothing his hair as if Yoichi were a little child. Yoichi stood stiffly in his arms, hands balled into fists at his sides. He wanted to throw up, to fight his brother off, to scream and cry. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move at all.

“I’m sorry for how he used you,” the king murmured fondly, resting his chin on Yoichi’s head. Yoichi felt himself shudder in disgust at the contact, but his brother ignored it. “But now perhaps you’ll finally let go of that foolish way of seeing the world. You’ll learn to see people for who they are—selfish and cruel.”

His brother had never been kind to him without reason, but Yoichi had always hoped the rest of the world was different. Kudou, with his faraway gaze and grand romantic gestures, had seemed like the proof. He’d never shown Yoichi anything less than compassion, for seemingly no reason but that he was good.

But there was a motive behind his kindness. And as much as Yoichi’s mind scrambled to reject it, Kudou had been using him too.

His brother let go of him, stepping back to stare at Yoichi appraisingly. After a moment, he turned away, grabbing a cup from the table, “Drink your medicine, dear Yoichi. This has taken a toll on you. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Yoichi could do nothing as his brother pressed the cup into his hand, steering it toward his mouth. He didn’t choke or even cough as the bitter tang crossed his tongue. He barely tasted it at all.

When it was empty, the king took back the cup. He took a step back and nodded, as if he were satisfied with what he was seeing, “Rest, sweet brother. You’ve had a trying day, but you needn’t worry. I won’t let anyone come near you ever again.”

Yoichi had never wanted to cry so badly. His eyes hurt from the need, but they were still so dry when he blinked.

He didn’t look up as his brother left, his eyes still staring out the window, toward something far out of reach.

Despite the medicine, sickness descended on Yoichi in all its strength, wrapping him in its arms and leeching the life from his body.

He let it. He couldn’t see the point in fighting off the ache in his limbs or the weight that settled atop his lungs. The sickness was always going to claim him—it kept coming back for a reason. He could no longer see the difference between letting it keep him now or holding it at bay for another few weeks or months or years.

After all, death or illness could not be a crueler owner than his brother.

For days, he was tugged violently between the currents of life and death. His body burned with fever and his skin glistened with cold sweat, a heavy fog settling over his mind. His thoughts were disjointed and wandering, and he drifted between them, never fully aware of his surroundings.

In his mind, he fell from great heights and shattered apart amongst crashing waves and hungry fish. He spun in circles on the dancefloor until he was sick. Images of gemstone eyes and canines sharp enough to rip out his throat haunted his dreams until he screamed and couldn’t stop, and whether his cries were from terror or anguish or rage, he couldn’t begin to know.

In one of his dreams, the voice by his ear was like too-sweet syrup, familiar enough to send prickles of apprehension across his feverish skin. The voice was faint—Yoichi caught only snippets of sentences. It sounded torn between anger and worry, “—told me increasing the dosage was safe… supposed to weaken him, not kill…”

Another voice replied, higher and nasally, “…thought I was clear: nothing about this is safe, Your Majesty. Upping the dosage is an imprecise art, dependent on many factors—”

“Then account for the factors,” the first voice demanded fiercely, his tone allowing for no disagreement. “If he dies, don’t think I’ll settle for just your head. I’ll make your suffering last for longer than you could possibly…”

Their words faded as Yoichi drifted to another dream, his tired mind unable to hang onto their conversation for a moment longer.

Eventually, he did begin to recover, though it certainly wasn’t due to his own efforts. It was a slow process, where the royal physician hovered by his bedside and didn’t leave until he was sure Yoichi was out of immediate danger. Days passed before Yoichi’s mind sharpened enough to tell the difference between dream and reality, and it was weeks before he had the strength to so much as hold a book in his hands.

Even then, the fog in his head left him unable to digest anything denser than a children’s story. He couldn’t do much beyond painstakingly making his way through his collection of fairytales, until the only children’s story left was his old favorite. The story of the hero and the demon lord left a dull ache in Yoichi’s heart, as it was now accompanied by the memory of a warm body pressed against his and a shoulder to rest his head upon. But the pain wasn’t enough to keep him from reaching for the well-loved book anyway.

As soon as he opened the cover, something fell out from between the pages. Yoichi picked up a yellowed piece of parchment, carefully unfolding it. His heart stuttered as he stared at the handwriting. It was neat but utilitarian, without a trace of the fancy swirls and embellishments he often saw in the handwriting of the nobility.

Kudou’s handwriting.

His eyes flitted toward his shaking hands, half-tempted to light the parchment on fire without reading another word. He didn’t know what Kudou could possibly have to say to him, but whether it was a confession of apathy or more false promises, he was sure it would hurt.

But still. It was Kudou. And where Kudou was concerned, Yoichi wanted to know everything.

He stared down, his feverish vision slow to focus on the words in front of his eyes,

Yoichi,

Right now, you’re fast asleep with the lamp still burning and your fingers still stuck in the pages of a book. I don’t want to wake you, and I expect that seeing my face would only upset you, so I’m writing you this letter. I still have things to tell you, though I should warn you that I don’t have your affinity for words.

I’d fill this whole page with apologies if I thought it would help, but I know it won’t. I wronged you, betrayed you so completely that if I were in your position, I don’t know that I’d ever want to see myself again. For that, I don’t expect your forgiveness, though I do hope you can at least believe that I wanted to be honest with you.

There were so many times when I almost told you everything. I’d open my mouth to let it spill out, but then I’d catch you looking at me, and it was like the words vanished from my tongue. You always used to stare like you weren’t really seeing all of me. I was so much bigger and brighter to you than I ever was in reality, and every time I got close to telling you who I really was, I could practically see how hurt you’d be when you realized I was made of flesh and blood instead of dreams.

I guess I just got scared. That’s all it really was.

My father and older brothers were publicly executed. My mother was wrenched from my arms and cut down in front of me. Everyone who ever mattered to me has slipped away in one way or another, until eventually, I began to think of it like a pattern. I let someone close, they suffer for it. Over and over again, like some twisted cycle.

And Yoichi, I couldn’t bring myself to dream that you’d be the exception.

There’s always been a part of me that lived in fear of the moment you’d disappear too. It lurked in the back of my mind constantly, growing the further I let you in, until I couldn’t be near you without holding my breath and waiting for the end.

That part of me was convinced that if I made one wrong step, I would lose you forever. I became terrified to take any risks, to even dare to breathe when you drew close to me, to the point where I felt my throat closing in at the thought of telling you about my past. I was petrified that you wouldn’t take me seriously, or even worse, you’d take his side and not want me around any longer. That was my greatest mistake. I let that fear drive me, and in the process, I snatched at your wrist instead of letting you take my hand.

I wanted to be something better for you, but I couldn’t quite figure how to rid myself of all that anger and fear and loss. I couldn’t escape their influence, and in the end, we both suffered for it. And I said no apologies, but I’m sorry. You deserve better than a coward.

Yoichi, you deserve everything.

I hope you experience the scent of the sea and the softness of grass beneath your feet. I hope one day you’ll see the wind rippling over the hills and taste fresh fish cooked over a roaring fire and hear the sound of music echoing over the lakes. I hope you learn every dance you ever admired from afar. If good things don’t come to you, Yoichi, the world is truly a bleak place.

For now though, there is one last truth I must disclose, and I regret to say it’s the opposite of the joys you deserve. It concerns you and your brother, and while I’d hoped you’d have years of safety and comfort before it ever came to light, the way things have gone, we may not have the luxury of such time.

I was sick for a few days, right after the first time I snuck in to visit you. I could barely get out of bed without hacking up a lung. My friend had to send for a healer from the city, and she eventually concluded that it was poison.

I was fine, obviously. I bought the antidote and recovered quickly, but I spent days puzzling over the origin. Everything I’d consumed that day had been eaten by others, and no one else had shown my symptoms. If it wasn’t in the food or the drink, what could it have been?

It took a while for the answer to finally come to me, and even then I couldn’t believe it. I visited you the night before, when you didn’t show up for the ball. And I don’t know if you remember, but I drank your medicine. Just the smallest sip, but still…

I didn’t think it was possible, and if it was, I needed to be sure. I stole some of your medicine just recently and took it to the healer. With her supervision, my friend and I tested it on myself. Sure enough, just a few sips and I might’ve died without an antidote on hand. It was enough to confirm my suspicions—your brother is poisoning you.

If we were talking face-to-face, I know you’d point out that it couldn’t work like that. You drink whole cups every day; you’d never get sick from only a few sips. I asked the healer the same thing (keeping it theoretical, of course), and she told me that if you’ve been drinking poison your whole life, you’ve probably built up an enormous tolerance. You’re not immune—poor constitution and coughing up blood are likely the proof of that—but in order to keep the poison working, your brother probably has to up the dosage quite frequently. By the healer’s prediction, that’s what leads to your sickness.

I know how unbelievable this sounds. I know you’ll likely distrust me and think I’m just trying to turn you against your brother. But it’s the truth, and I think a part of you knows that it’s something your brother is capable of.

He wants you by his side, doesn’t he? Here’s how he’ll keep you there.

 

Please stay safe. And don’t forget what I promised.

The letter wasn’t signed. Yoichi hadn’t expected it to be, but he still found himself staring at the blank space below the last word, almost as if he were looking for some seal of proof. Like if he looked hard enough, he’d know whether Kudou’s words could be trusted.

He wasn’t really sick.

That’s what Kudou was telling him—that he’d never been sick. It had always been poison, and his brother had been the one to feed it to him.

Yoichi tucked the parchment into the map Kudou had given him, hiding it beneath his bed. His hands were still shaking, and he stared down at them uncomprehendingly, his mind whirling.

It couldn’t be the truth. If it was, it would mean that this whole time, his brother had never wanted the best for him. The smothering protection that Yoichi had put up with for his entire life, believing it was necessary, had never been needed.

He could have been free. He could have lived a normal life.

He could have danced.

Kudou had to be lying. He had everything to gain from turning Yoichi against his brother, right? This was just another thing to add to the long list of ways he’d deceived Yoichi already. And if Yoichi were being poisoned, he would know, wouldn’t he? He’d feel it.

He cradled his head in his hands, staring down at the cup on his bedside table. He’d told Kudou the truth before—he knew his brother better than anyone. He knew what his brother was. At his core, the king craved control above all else, and he would do anything to get it. He was deceitful and cruel, and if sapping away years of Yoichi’s life was the best way to keep him under the king’s thumb, he would do it without remorse.

Kudou might very well be lying, but there was a chance, larger than Yoichi wanted to admit, that he was telling the truth.

Yoichi reached out, his fingers wrapping around the base of the cup and squeezing. He watched absently as his knuckles turn white, lurching toward the window in jerky movements. His thoughts were leagues away, and he was drowning in them. His relationship with his brother, his relationship with Kudou, his whole life… It had been one lie after another. No one had ever been honest with him, so how was he supposed to trust in anything?

His wrist twisted, and in a single, unsteady motion, he poured the liquid from his cup out the open window. It vanished from sight, swallowed up by the air and then the dirt.

He set his empty cup by the side of his bed and fell asleep.

Time blended and swirled together, until Yoichi lost track of its passing completely.

The days since Kudou’s departure all seemed the same. Yoichi was confined to his chambers. He’d pick at his food and read through a book or two, and sometimes his brother would stop by to visit and brag about his recent accomplishments, but other than that, nothing really changed. There was nothing left to look forward to, so Yoichi tried his best not to think too hard about everything he’d lost.

He’d stopped drinking his medicine and taken to pouring it from the window instead. He still wasn’t sure if Kudou was telling the truth about the poisoning, but if it really was medicine, the only downside of not taking it was that Yoichi might get sick again. If that happened, at least he’d know with certainty that Kudou could never be trusted. And then… Well, he supposed he’d start drinking the medicine again, though he couldn’t find it in himself to be enthused by the idea.

So far, nothing had happened. Yoichi didn’t feel sick, but he didn’t feel better, either. He still had no idea who to believe.

He hadn’t stopped searching for answers in the lines of Kudou’s pen. He couldn’t bring himself to burn it, even though he knew he should destroy any evidence of Kudou’s affection to keep it from his brother. Instead, he’d folded it into the map Kudou gave him and stashed it beneath his mattress. He’d withdraw it more often than he should, letting his eyes retrace every line of Kudou’s letter in hopes that if he read it enough times, he’d be able to somehow unlock the truth. 

Yoichi knew who he wanted to believe. Even though Kudou was long gone, he wanted to remember Kudou for his kindness, not his manipulation.

After reading the letter, he’d pull out the map. He’d followed the lines of rivers and hills, wondering where amongst them Kudou might be—if he was fishing for Wintertrout or dancing the waltz he’d tried to teach Yoichi. Yoichi had promised him he’d practice, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t heard the song once since the night of the ball.

Kudou hadn’t come back for him, and Yoichi was glad. His brother had barged into his room day after day, ranting about Kudou’s disappearance and the furtivity of those cursed easterners, so Yoichi knew Kudou had managed it. He’d escaped the king’s reach just like he’d always promised he could. He was in his homeland, and he was free.

Yoichi was happy for him. He really was.

He just wished he could have seen the lakes.

Yoichi still thought about it often—Kudou’s outstretched hand and the pleading note in his voice. What would’ve happened if he’d taken it? Maybe Kudou was using him, but Yoichi still could’ve escaped. And Kudou’s manipulations couldn’t have been worse than the way his brother treated him.

It was more complicated than that, though. If Yoichi had ran with Kudou, he would’ve had to live with the knowledge that Kudou’s actions were probably meant only as a strike back at his brother. That there was a chance they had nothing to do with Yoichi and everything to do with his blood. Yoichi didn’t think he could take it—questioning the motive behind each of Kudou’s actions, all while knowing he was the fool who’d fallen for a man who only wanted to use him.

But Kudou had said he wouldn’t hurt Yoichi, and Yoichi believed him. He would’ve been safe with Kudou, even if he wasn’t loved. And though he doubted his own feelings for Kudou would ever truly fade, he might have one day been able to accept a relationship between the two of them that was purely transactional.

Freedom for revenge. It wasn’t a terrible deal.

Had he made a mistake, not taking Kudou’s hand? Had he acted like a coward, turning his back on his own dreams? Kudou had wronged him, but Yoichi’s dreams had never only involved Kudou. They’d also involved dancing, and one day seeing the beautiful world Kudou painted for him. Had Yoichi given up his chance to reach those dreams when he’d let Kudou leave him behind?

It was no use dwelling on it. He’d made his decision, and at least it meant that Kudou was safe. If Yoichi had decided to flee with him, his brother would be far more motivated to give chase.

Still.

Without Kudou, Yoichi’s life felt barren, like all semblance of vitality had been stripped from him. Without the balls and the balcony and Kudou’s stories of his homeland, he’d grown hollow and listless. Yoichi couldn’t manage to return to his hopeless way of life before Kudou. He couldn’t stop mourning his broken dreams.

His brother was the only one around to notice the change in him. His calculating eyes would trace Yoichi’s face, taking in his sunken eyes and pallid complexion. When he sent his personal guard to summon Yoichi from his chambers, Yoichi suspected his recent change had something to do it.

The guard, a hulking giant of a man with a deep, gravelly voice, rapped on Yoichi’s door until he answered, “Your brother requests your presence.”

Yoichi had no choice but to follow the guard to dinner, knowing if he refused, the man probably had instructions to drag him there anyway. His brother was already there when he arrived, twirling a steak knife between his fingers as he leaned back at the head of the table.

The king clicked his tongue disapprovingly when Yoichi made to sit in his usual seat, as far from his brother as possible, “Not today, little brother. Come sit here. I want to see your face.”

His brother’s guard hovered menacingly behind Yoichi shoulder, so he had no choice but to walk stiffly toward the seat at his brother’s right side.

“How have you been, dear brother?” the king smiled at him, reaching over to shovel food onto Yoichi’s plate. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen more of you recently. Our conquest in the north has been eating up my time, though it shouldn’t consume much more of it. One more strike and the land will be mine.”

Yoichi hid a grimace, digging the point of a knife into the slab of meat his brother dropped in front of him. The king knew Yoichi disapproved of his conquests. He’d fought with his brother about it on countless occasions. The king had committed enough atrocities already, conquering the land he already had. There was no need for more violence.

“You should’ve seen the way they cowered before me,” the king told him. “A kingdom of recreant fools, hiding up in the mountains as if they could escape my wrath. They should’ve known better.”

He eyed Yoichi as if waiting for a response. The way he carried on about the subject felt deliberate, like he was baiting Yoichi, trying to get him to fight back.

Yoichi bit his tongue, picking at his food in silence.

The king’s eyes darkened, and he switched topics abruptly, “You’re not eating, brother. Is the food not to your liking? I’ll get rid of the cooks for you, if you’d like.”

Yoichi tensed, his eyes widening. He quickly shoveled a bite of food into his mouth, knowing his brother meant it. It tasted bitter, though maybe it was only Yoichi’s imagination.

“Good, good,” the king smiled widely as Yoichi swallowed so fast he nearly choked. “You should eat. You look unwell.”

Whose fault is that? Yoichi wanted to snap, but he shoved another bite of food into his mouth instead.

The king watched him carefully, his pale eyes gleaming, “I’ve heard an interesting report from the gardener recently.”

Yoichi frowned, glancing up in surprise. His brother usually didn’t concern himself with people as lowly as the palace groundskeepers. He certainly never spoke of it to Yoichi.

“Apparently, there’s a patch of land out there where nothing grows,” the king told him. “They’ve tried everything, to no avail. Any idea why that might be, dear brother?” When Yoichi stared at him blankly, he only shrugged. “You’ve read half the library, haven’t you? You must have some understanding of these things.”

Yoichi swallowed a bite, “Plants need sunlight, water, and nutrients to grow. If your gardeners are trying to plant in a place without one of those things, then maybe—”

“No, no,” his brother shook his head. “It’s a perfect piece of land. Lots of sunlight. In fact, the land on either side of the patch is flourishing. And here’s the strange part: apparently the dead patch was flourishing too, until just a month or two ago.”

“Then something must have happened to it,” Yoichi said thoughtfully, trying to recall what he’d read in the past. “There are ways to make land infertile. If the soil is too acidic, or if it’s been salted.”

“Something must have happened to it…” the king repeated thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s what I think, too.”

The king was still watching him. Yoichi hadn’t seen him blink. He felt a sudden lurching sensation in the pit of his stomach as he wondered again why his brother was asking him about the garden of all things. Yoichi was missing something, clearly, but he couldn’t think of what.

“Do you know where that patch is located?” the king asked.

Yoichi shook his head, swallowing his unease. Obviously, he didn’t. His brother knew that already.

“On the far side of the palace, right along the wall of the western wing,” the king said, his eyes glittering menacingly. “You know where that is, right?”

Yoichi’s stomach sunk, pain twisting and stabbing at his insides as his mind pinned down the location of the dead patch. He forced his head up to meet his brother’s eye. It felt heavy. Every part of him felt heavy, dragged down with dread.

“That’s…” he swallowed. His throat felt dry and scratchy. “Right below my window.”

He sucked in a rattling gasp of air, his fork clattering against the table as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth. His throat felt like it was closing in on him, his stomach twisting with nausea as it tried to force its contents back up.

This wasn’t just unease anymore. It was something else. He felt as if he were dying.

He coughed, grabbing the napkin from his lap just in time to catch a mouthful of blood. He squeezed it in his hand, panic pulsing through his bloodstream as he jerked his head up to meet his brother’s, “What…have you done?”

His brother sighed, watching impassively as Yoichi dissolved into another fit of coughs, “I guess that settles it, then. How disappointing.”

Yoichi’s pain-addled mind took a second too long to realize what his brother meant.

“I put it in the food,” his brother explained, reaching out to rest a hand against Yoichi’s burning forehead. “But if you’d been drinking your medicine—keeping your tolerance high—the effects would barely be noticeable.” He laughed lightly. “I guess one could say that you brought this on yourself.”

Yoichi flinched back from his brother’s touch, hacking up another mouthful of blood. He knew his symptoms, though they were stronger than they’d been in a long while. This was just like the bouts of illness he’d had in the past, only… it had never been illness. His brother’s actions confirmed that it had always been poison.

When he’d realized Yoichi might not be taking his medicine, his brother had decided to put the poison in his food, instead. Now he watched impassively as it twisted its way through Yoichi’s bloodstream, slowly sapping away his energy.

“You…” it took all of Yoichi’s effort to lift his head and meet his brother’s empty gaze. His words came out in a wheezy breath. “…did this to me.”

The king shook his head with a smile, as if he’d made a trivial mistake, “I shouldn’t have let you read all those books. That’s how you found me out, isn’t it?”

Yoichi gritted his teeth, not answering. He was full of frustration and in so much pain that tears welled up in his eyes. His thoughts were muddled by agony, but he still knew better than to admit that he’d learned the truth from Kudou.

The king frowned as the strength began to fade from Yoichi’s body. He slumped forward against the table, his cheek pressed against the hard wood surface. A tear traced a path down his cheek, and through his haze, Yoichi wasn’t sure if it was anger or fear or pain that had summoned it.

Yoichi couldn’t lift his arm to wipe it away, and the king made no move to help him. He only watched it fall, his eyes blank and unsympathetic, “There’s really nothing to be upset over. Nothing is going to change; I won’t let you die.”

Yoichi didn’t understand how his brother could believe what he was saying. Maybe he’d remain his brother’s prisoner, just the same as always, but the truth changed everything. It was a confirmation of the fear that he’d shoved deep inside of him—the fear that whispered that his brother had never really loved him. To the king, Yoichi was no different than a piece of land or a misbehaving subject. He was his brother’s possession. Something to control.

That was all he’d ever be.

His whole life, his brother had been there to offer his protection. He’d supplied Yoichi with the best physicians and medicines, kept him safe and protected from the people who’d take advantage of his condition, looked after him when he was sick and vulnerable. And the whole time, it had been a lie. He’d done it all to keep Yoichi dependent, when the truth was that Yoichi had never really needed him.

Buried in his chest, his heart throbbed with pain. His brother’s cruelty had weakened it over the years, cracking the surface just enough for this last blow to shatter it completely. It pulsed weakly, blending with the poison in his blood until pain was all Yoichi could feel. He stopped fighting, stopped trying to pick himself up as his body slowly listed toward the ground.

The king waved a guard in to catch him, and as Yoichi’s vision blurred, he was dimly aware of being lifted up and carried away, his brother’s voice calling for the physician to be sent after him. As he drifted into unconsciousness, he couldn’t help but laugh at the twisted nature of it all.

He’d begged for the truth, but in the end, it had only caused him pain.

Because Yoichi’s tolerance had lowered during the time he’d refused to drink his ‘medicine,’ his sickness was the worst it had been in years. In the end, the physician was forced to feed him the antidote—something he’d never done before—simply because the poison was driving Yoichi too close to death.

He should’ve recovered quickly after that, but his brother had a different idea. Instead of stopping once Yoichi realized the truth, he’d continued to leave cups of poison by Yoichi’s beside each night, as if he expected Yoichi to keep drinking it. When Yoichi didn’t, he took to putting it in the food instead. Yoichi had only taken one bite, spitting it out as soon as he noticed the bitter aftertaste.

He'd stopped eating after that. He had no intention of letting his brother poison him.

And if he starved to death, at least it would be of his own free will.

He grew weaker, his body barely able to summon the energy to lift himself from bed. He’d been far from healthy before his brother had decided to test him by feeding him poison, and the following bout of illness and subsequent fasting period only worsened his deterioration. It didn’t take long before his nutrient-depraved mind couldn’t even focus on the lines of a book.

Without books to entertain himself, his thoughts were the only thing that remained. They accompanied him in the darkness as he lay upon his bed and stared at the ceiling, flitting half-formed and hazy around the inside of his exhausted brain. Flashes of color and slivers of faces hovered behind his eyes, sometimes so dulled and distorted with delirium that Yoichi couldn’t quite remember if they were real or fantasy.

He thought about Kudou most of all.

Lines of Kudou’s letter flashed before his eyes, sometimes accompanied by memories of his voice or his touch. Yoichi couldn’t forget any of it, and though it hurt as much as ever, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to. To unknow Kudou, to unknow everything, felt like stepping backwards into… well, nothing. His life would’ve amounted to nothing if Kudou had never come into it.

In his letter, Kudou had confessed to being a liar and a coward. He had admitted to letting his fear of losing another person close to him control his decisions. If it was true, it meant he really hadn’t been trying to seduce or manipulate Yoichi. He’d just been trying not to lose him.

Yoichi knew it was possible Kudou’s words could be just another lie, cleverly chosen to win back Yoichi’s trust. But Kudou had told the truth about the poison. He could’ve been telling the truth about this, too. And if he was…

Yoichi couldn’t fault Kudou for being afraid. Not when Yoichi had been terrified from the moment they met.

Maybe in some ways, he’d clung to that fear as much as Kudou. After all, there had always been a part of him, even after he’d agreed to run, that never really believed they’d make it. Maybe that had been where they both went wrong. If Yoichi had let himself fall instead of scrabbling for purchase on the edge of the cliff, would they have made it? Is that all it would’ve taken to protect himself from the fall and the rocks and the cold of the water? Mutual belief that they could make it—that they could’ve broken the surface instead of sinking to the deep.

He supposed it was too late to know.

He’d made his choice—both of them had. There was nothing left to do but force himself to be content with the memory of Kudou that never truly faded—to hold it close until he finally, finally sunk to a place where nothing could reach him.

The north was giving the king more trouble than he’d anticipated.

Yoichi heard snippets of conversation amongst the guards, rumors from the mouths of the servants as they drifted about his quarters. Some unexpected new weapon had been unleashed that the king couldn’t counter, or the winter had turned harsh and the king’s army had turned to ice, or each northern soldier fought with the strength of ten ordinary men. He didn’t have enough detail to parse truth from gross exaggeration, but whatever the case, something had happened to turn his brother’s certain victory into an unexpected question.

Back at the castle, it meant that the king’s presence was no longer so smothering. He’d ridden out north some days ago, leaving for the first time in weeks. Yoichi hadn’t felt so close to breathing freely since his last time on the balcony. He was still drained and malnourished, weak and hazy-eyed, but he felt lighter anyway knowing his brother was too far away to reach him.

Almost hungry again.

Not for food. That ache had faded a while ago. He craved something else, something he couldn’t put a name to. Like an itch he couldn’t reach, or the last embers of a fire still clinging to life even after the roaring flames had been stamped out. He’d driven it to the back of his mind when his brother was around, but it crawled steadily to the forefront in the king’s absence, wild and reckless with no trace of self-preservation.

It was those embers that forced him to his feet, carrying him to the door during the changing of the guard with an almost manic fever. He stumbled toward the door, coughing loudly into his arm.

Immediately, a guard pulled the door open. Yoichi breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t the hulking monster of a man that sometimes watched over him.

“I’m sorry,” Yoichi coughed. “Water. I need—”

“Fetch the physician,” one guard ordered. Neither of the two guards looked at him, eyes fixed somewhere far past Yoichi’s head. The guards never looked him straight on or spoke to him directly—on his brother’s orders, no doubt.

The other guard nodded, looking urgently around to see if there was anyone nearby to send. The hallway outside Yoichi’s room was empty. He knew it would be empty. It was right when the servants were off having supper.

Yoichi coughed wetly again, swaying on his feet. The first guard—the one in charge, most likely—swore beneath his breath, turning to the second guard, “Go.”

The second guard hesitated, eyes wide, “If he finds out I abandoned my post—”

“If his brother dies because no one summoned the physician, he’ll have both our heads,” the first guard snapped. When the second guard still hesitated, he let out a huff of air. “Fine. I’ll go. Just don’t let him die.”

He hurried down the hallway without another word, leaving Yoichi hunched in on himself, gripping the doorframe. He didn’t look up, but he could feel the remaining guard’s eyes on him.

He coughed again. He wasn’t poisoned this time, but with his poor health and recent lack of nourishment, it was hardly a challenge to sound unwell.

“Water,” he rasped in between coughs.

The guard shifted on his feet, looking back and forth down the hallway uncertainly, “You- you’ll have to wait for the physician.

“I don’t know if I—” Yoichi broke off, doubling over again.

The guard fidgeted again as Yoichi wheezed, gasping for breath with a rattling inhale. Yoichi knew what he was thinking. If Yoichi keeled over and died right here, and this guard was the only one around, he’d be doomed for sure.

“There should be water in the room,” the guard snapped, a frantic edge underlying his words. He yanked the door open wide, grabbing Yoichi’s arm and dragging him into the room. Yoichi couldn’t suppress a shudder at the tight grip circling his arm.

“My brother wouldn’t want you to touch me,” he said quickly, still out of breath.

The guard let go of Yoichi’s arm as if it burned. His eyes latched on Yoichi for a second, wide with terror, before darting away.

Yoichi felt a flicker of guilt, “I won’t tell him.”

He took a slow step backward as the guard looked around his bedchambers. The guard didn’t look at him, busy scouring the room for water. He lifted a pitcher and turned it upside down, swearing as not even a drop fell, “Why is this empty? The servants should’ve filled it before they left. You couldn’t— It couldn’t have all been drunken in the last hour.”

Yoichi didn’t answer, nor did it seem the guard expected him to. He didn’t tell the guard that he’d emptied the pitcher out his window nearly as soon as it had been filled. He only carefully picked up a long strip of fabric he’d ripped from his sheets, cradling it in both hands as he continued to slowly back towards the door. The guard didn’t seem to notice, reaching for the bell to call for the servants. When he tugged the rope, it came loose from the wall entirely, falling to the ground with a clatter.

The guard reached for it, eyes latching onto the frayed edge where Yoichi had painstakingly cut the line with a table knife, “How the hell—"

Yoichi watched his eyes widen with realization a second before he whirled in Yoichi’s direction. He was a second too late. Yoichi was already in the doorway, winding his long strip of fabric loosely around each handle of the double doors.

Finally, the guard looked at him, eyes wide with panic and mouth falling open, “Wait—"

He started towards Yoichi but couldn’t cover the distance in time. Yoichi slammed the doors closed, the guard’s terrified expression vanishing behind the thick oak wood. He pulled the strip of fabric into a tight knot that he’d practiced countless times in his room beforehand, just a second before the guard’s weight hit the door and tried to force it open.

“No!” the guard shouted from behind the door, his voice climbing as the knot held. “Your Highness, please. Your brother will kill us all.”

Yoichi swallowed, watching the door tremble as the man threw his weight desperately against it. This was a guard who had kept him contained, who had sat by as his brother manipulated and abused him. He knew he didn’t owe the man any sympathy, but he couldn’t help but feel it anyway.

Yoichi straightened, no longer coughing. “You should both flee before my brother returns. You’re right—he won’t forgive you for this.”

He couldn’t offer anything else. He knew he didn’t have the time to spare. Without another word, Yoichi turned and staggered down the hallway in the opposite direction as the other guard had left in.

His lungs burned, limbs aching and cloudiness hanging over his mind, but he didn’t let himself slow down. Instead, he almost felt like laughing. He’d done it. It was reckless. Unbelievably reckless. But for the first time in months, he had left his room without being dragged by his brother. He couldn’t bring himself to care that his freedom was fleeting, that he’d inevitably be caught and tossed back in. As far as Yoichi was concerned, for this single moment of mingled exhilaration and terror, it was worth it.

He tried not to let his feet drag on the ground even as what little muscle that hadn’t atrophied screamed in protest. If he wanted to extend the duration of his wild breakout, he couldn’t linger in the halls where anyone could see him. He needed to go somewhere they wouldn’t know to look.

He turned right down another long hallway, which was thankfully empty. He’d done his best to adapt his hasty escape plan to the schedules of the palace servants, but having been only able to observe the comings and goings of the servants that visited his quarters, he’d had to hope that the servants working in the rest of the castle operated on the same schedule. So far, it seemed his assumption was correct. He encountered no one as he made his way down the hall and down a winding staircase, pushing open an old, worn wooden door halfway down and stumbling through a thin, cobweb-ridden hallway.

About halfway down the hall, he made a sharp turn into another shadowy hall, then pushed open another door. And there it was. The hidden balcony had collected dust in his absence, but the view remained the same.

He allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, bending over with his hands on his knees as his vision swam in front of him. He managed to keep himself from losing consciousness, but it took longer than he would’ve liked to feel well enough to straighten back up. His legs felt weak enough to bend beneath his weight as he stumbled the rest of the way to the balcony edge, grabbing tight to the guardrail as he surveyed the view.

There was no dancing this time. His brother would allow no palace festivities in his absence. The great hall below wasn’t decorated ostentatiously or lit with a hundred candles. It was cloaked in shadow beyond a sparse few torches placed near the king’s seat, their light barely reaching Yoichi’s balcony.

Yoichi rarely saw the balcony so empty. Another time, many months ago, he might’ve found the sight disappointing, might’ve felt a certain hollowness from the absence of the music and the bright colors and whirling dancer. But too much had changed since then, and now he couldn’t bring himself to mind. He could once again feel the absence of his brother like a weight lifted from his chest—a luxury he’d taken for granted the last time he’d been on the balcony.

He gazed toward the empty throne, his contentment mingled with the steady, dull ache that had been ever-present since that dinner with his brother. He already knew it how this ended. They would tear the castle apart until they found him and lock him somewhere he could never escape from. Word would get back to the king, and when his brother returned, he would unleash his rage on Yoichi and whatever other poor souls had the misfortune of crossing his path. 

Yoichi was well aware of the cycle—had spent his life living in fear of it. Now all he felt when he thought of his inevitable punishment was a hollow sort of resignation. He was so tired of desperately clawing himself away from his brother at their every interaction. He was so tired of trying to convince himself that existing like that—as the object of his brother’s twisted affections—was okay. It wasn’t. He’d tried to believe the best of his brother, tried to change his mind about love, about kindness, about so many other things. The king had never so much as pretended to listen. He’d only ever been concerned with taking what he wanted, and kindness had no role in achieving that goal.

Perhaps that was the greatest tragedy of all—the cruelest of Yoichi’s dreams. The king had so much power, so much potential to do good, and it just…didn’t matter, because he was so completely incapable of looking beyond himself. Yoichi had let himself hope for so long that his brother would see others—see him—as more than just prized possessions or tools to wield at his convenience. And the whole time, he’d been playing a losing game.

There was no cure for his brother’s type of blindness.

He tightened his grip on the balcony railing, leaning further over the edge to catch the cool draft that blew up from the room below. He didn’t want to leave. He was heavy with exhaustion and too weak to go back to a fate he stood no chance of changing. He wanted to stay here, in this place where things had once been good.

And if he couldn’t…

Yoichi had been moving sluggishly for a long while. The feeling of being deep below the water, where only muffled sound and distorted sunlight could reach him, was hardly novel. Perhaps he’d been sinking for as long as he could remember. Perhaps it would be a relief if he finally hit the bottom now.

He looked down at the throne, remembering a time when he’d plummeted forward, arms flailing and heart thundering in his chest. His heart pulsed fast but steady now, and he marveled that it still beat, after everything. He’d dreamed of falling as something large and symbolic, a freefall towards an unknown fate. Maybe it was far simpler in reality. Just a rush of exhilaration and an abrupt end.

His fingers loosened their grip. His brother would never follow him down.

“Not going to fall, are you?”

Yoichi spun around on instinct, sucking in a strangled gasp of air. A single figure stood behind him, dressed in the plain, dark clothes of a palace servant. He was staring at Yoichi, his brows furrowed in deep concern. As Yoichi watched, he lifted an arm, then let it fall back to his side, like he wanted to reach out but thought better of it.

Yoichi blinked, clearing his eyes. When he opened them, the figure was still there, still watching him uncertainly with bright crimson eyes.

Oh, Yoichi thought to himself distractedly. How could I have forgotten?

He hadn’t fallen last time, either. Kudou had caught him first.

Yoichi’s lips parted, his heart pounding in his throat as his own eyes clung to the figure in front of him. Kudou. It had been so long since Yoichi had seen those familiar features, but even in the darkness he knew them like his own reflection. Kudou had always been so beautiful. Even despite the dark circles beneath his eyes and the drawn, pale look of his skin, that hadn’t changed.

Yoichi wanted to stare forever.

Kudou stared back, seeming just as reluctant to look away. He stood tensely, like he wanted to step closer, but was holding himself back with all his strength.

Yoichi wished he wouldn’t.

Finally, still not looking away from Kudou, Yoichi found his voice, “A-are you real?”

He was afraid this was another hallucination, and the sound of his voice would shatter the illusion, but to his relief, Kudou didn’t disappear.

“I said I’d come back for you, didn’t I?” Kudou murmured, offering a small, tentative smile. “Didn’t really expect to find you here, though.”

Yoichi didn’t say anything in response. He only stared, not sure he could trust his eyes or Kudou’s words. Kudou couldn’t be here. He was far away, back in the east. Safe. Happy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Kudou’s smile fell away. “I tried, but your brother has been looking for me. I couldn’t risk it until tonight. Not after I gave you my word I wouldn’t let him catch me.”

Yoichi still didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust himself to. If he let himself believe Kudou was really there, he’d only be more brokenhearted when he realized it was all a dream.

“You look…” Kudou stared in concern. Yoichi knew what he was seeing. He’d always been frail, but since Kudou had last seen him, he’d grown frighteningly gaunt, with sunken-in cheeks and hollow eyes. “Are you alright? Have you been…sick?”

Sick. He wondered if Kudou was keeping up the charade to save his feelings. It wasn’t necessary anymore, now that Yoichi knew the truth.

Yoichi swallowed, “You were right. I was never sick.”

He watched Kudou’s jaw clench. Yoichi thought he caught a glimpse of the old anger in Kudou’s eyes, though it faded fast, “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I take no pleasure in being correct.”

Yoichi nodded. He did believe it. There wasn’t an ounce of joy in Kudou’s gaze.

“I stopped taking it, but my brother caught on that I’d realized,” Yoichi told him, keeping his voice carefully controlled. “He started to put it in my food instead, so I had to stop eating.”

Kudou’s jaw squeezed even tighter, “I’m sorry.”

Yoichi shrugged, looking toward the ground, “It isn’t your fault.”

“No, but…” Kudou trailed off, his voice choked with regret. “I could have been honest with you earlier. Before your brother got the chance to use my past against me. If I had, maybe things wouldn’t have gone the way they did.”

“It’s alright,” Yoichi said. “You didn’t want me to be suspicious. I understand.”

“No,” Kudou breathed. “Yoichi, that’s not why.”

Yoichi lifted his head in confusion.

Kudou sighed, sitting heavily on the ground in front of Yoichi’s feet. He stared up at Yoichi, his eyes swirling with regret, “I never expected to feel anything for you. You were just the only person I could take from the king to make him suffer as much as I did.”

Yoichi nodded. Kudou had told him as much already, both on that night in his room and in his letter.

“But then I saw you, and all of a sudden I was saving your life instead of taking it,” Kudou told him in a rush of air. “And after that, I didn’t even think about hurting you. I don’t know why, exactly, but it never crossed my mind again.

“And then we started talking, and I thought I saw something in your face. Like…you were looking at something far away and willing it to come closer. Dreaming, but in a fearful, reluctant sort of way,” Kudou said. “I was fascinated by that look. I thought that we might see things the same way.

“So I came back,” Kudou continued, looking at his hands. “I kept coming back. And for a while, I told myself it was because I wanted to use you against my brother. Even once I knew I liked you for more than that, there was still a piece of me that wondered if your ties to your brother were part of the reason I was so drawn to you.”

Yoichi opened his mouth to say something, though he had no idea what, “I—"

“But it wasn’t about your brother. I’m certain of that now,” Kudou continued before Yoichi got the chance to interject. His voice was quiet but filled with conviction. “How could it have been about him, when these month I spent without you, all I could think about was how much I missed talking to you?

He exhaled heavily, glancing up at Yoichi with a small, defeated smile, “I just wish I’d realized it sooner. Before I went and ruined everything.”

Yoichi studied Kudou carefully, the sharp angles of his face and the haunted shadows beneath his eyes. Was he telling the truth? All Yoichi could glean was that Kudou looked tired. Yoichi wished in spite of himself that he could say something to take some of that exhaustion away, but he didn’t have the energy left in him to expel anything but the truth.

“I put so much faith in you,” he began quietly. “You were the only thing I ever dared to believe in, and finding out you weren’t who I believed was just—”

He broke off, unable to put his devastation into words.

“Maybe it wasn’t fair of me to place all of my dreams onto your shoulders. Maybe that was too much weight,” Yoichi continued softly. “But you shouldn’t have lied to me. You condemn my brother for stealing every decision from me, yet you manipulated the truth just as he does. You shattered the one chance I had to make a choice for myself.”

Kudou winced, but he didn’t look away from Yoichi. He didn’t toss aside the heavy weight of Yoichi’s words; he carried them without complaint. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

“Then how could you do it?” Yoichi breathed, and he couldn’t hide the way his voice cracked on the question. He hadn’t cried much since Kudou had left, but now he wasn’t sure he could help himself.

“Yoichi—”

“No,” Yoichi swallowed hard, his matted hair falling into his face, but he wasn’t strong enough to shove it all down. “Why couldn’t you have just trusted me?”

Kudou took a step forward but stopped himself once again, looking miserable, “I’m sorry. Yoichi, I’m so—”

But Yoichi couldn’t take hearing him apologize again. A ragged sob tore its way from his throat, the composure he’d been trying so hard to keep shattering into a thousand pieces. Before he could process it, he was stumbling forward, still gasping for air with what was left of his heart in bleeding splinters in his chest. He was so tired of not knowing how to feel about Kudou, about his brother, about everything. He was so sick of second-guessing everything good in his life, and even though he didn’t want to be, there was a part of him that was furious with Kudou for proving his brother right and making him doubt the kindness he’d believed people possessed.

He'd shoved it down for so long, shoved down all the anger and the resentment and everything negative he felt about his brother, his life, Kudou. He knew there was no use in feeling angry about what he couldn’t change, but just this once, he couldn’t suppress it. He’d feel it all this time—no more hiding, no hesitation. He’d race straight for the edge of the cliff, and to hell with the consequences.

He charged up to Kudou and slammed both hands against his chest, letting out a strangled yell. Kudou stumbled back, probably more out of surprise than from the force (Yoichi knew he didn’t have much strength left in him). Yoichi was on him before he could recover, staggering hard until his weight slammed into Kudou’s chest.

He didn’t know what he intended—maybe to knock Kudou to the floor with the force of his body. It didn’t work. Kudou barely moved as Yoichi’s bony frame came in contact with his bulkier chest. And as the heat of his body bled through the fabric of Yoichi’s shirt, Yoichi’s brief surge of anger dimmed, dwarfed in comparison to the shock of physical contact.

He tensed as soon as they collided, expecting the usual nausea and repulsion. It didn’t come. Yoichi should’ve known it wouldn’t. In all the months of knowing nothing but his brother’s touch, he had forgotten—Kudou had never felt anything like his brother. Kudou felt warm, comforting instead of reviling. Kudou felt safe. And it had been so long since Yoichi had felt anything close to safety that for once, he didn’t let himself dwell on whether the feeling could be trusted.

He melted into Kudou like it was second nature, collapsing into Kudou’s chest with another rattling sob.

Kudou caught him before he could slide to the ground. His hands tightened around Yoichi’s body and Yoichi didn’t feel trapped. He didn’t feel sick. His skin didn’t crawl. He just felt warm. Like nothing could touch him. Yoichi thought absently that if Kudou were to stab him in the back right now, it would’ve been worth it to feel like this one more time.

But Kudou didn’t go for the kill. Instead, he was so, so gentle. Slowly, carefully, as if he were afraid Yoichi would break apart at his touch, Kudou reached to stroke his hair, mumbling his name in a hoarse whisper.

“Yoichi,” he breathed raggedly. “I’ve been a fool. I’ve been such a fool.”

Yoichi hiccupped, his own voice just as raw, “It-it’s alright. Kudou, it—”

“No,” Kudou murmured. “I wanted to save you and I just hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

Yoichi found the strength to lift his arms, wrapping them as tight as he could around Kudou’s torso. Kudou inhaled shakily, and for the first time, Yoichi considered that he might not have been the only one living a half-life since that night they’d fought in Yoichi’s bedchamber.

Kudou pulled back slightly, his hands sliding down Yoichi’s arms, “I’d do anything to make it up to you. I would take you anywhere you wish to go, whenever you wish it. I would wait for you forever if that’s what you need. And—” he cut himself off, squeezed his eyes shut, and started again. “If you wish it, I would even let you go.”

Yoichi watched him with wide eyes. His whole life, he’d only known how to hold on. The king clung to everything with a vise grip, and Yoichi was the king’s brother. He shared blood with the king, regardless of how much he resented that fact. And though he hated to draw parallels between the two of them, a tight hold was something they shared. Whether it was books or questions or dreams, once Yoichi had latched on, he didn’t let go.

He always figured it was the same with people. His brother’s grip had been suffocating, but he’d thought for the longest time that its tightness reflected the king’s love. He’d thought that was what love was—wanting to grip onto someone’s being and never let go.

Then he’d met Kudou, and he’d wanted so badly to be with him, to be around him, to know him. But more than any of those things, he’d wanted Kudou to be happy. He wanted it enough to try to give Kudou up just to keep him safe.

Yoichi knew now—that was what love was. It was wanting someone so bad his heart felt it could shatter his own ribcage, and wanting that person to be happy even more.

And now Kudou was saying that if Yoichi wanted, he would let him go…

“It’s okay if you don’t trust a word I say,” Kudou told him, eyes soft. “But I need to tell you— I need to be honest with you about one last thing. I tried to put it on paper before, but it felt too small there. I need to tell you to your face.”

He took a deep, sharp breath, “I love you, Yoichi. So much it terrifies me. But I’m not going to be a coward anymore. I’m there for you always, but if you don’t choose me, I’ll figure out how to be okay with that, too.”

Yoichi was silent for a long moment. He still felt the hurt and betrayal of realizing Kudou had lied, the desperate confusion that left him questioning everything he ever believed. But more than anything else, he felt the warmth of Kudou’s arms around him, holding him tight like he was something precious. He didn’t want to lose that again.

Yoichi knew the danger of reaching for dreams. He knew that Kudou could still be lying, that the arms around him could disappear at any second. But maybe that was a risk he’d signed up to take a long time ago, when he’d taken Kudou’s hand during the swell of a waltz. Maybe when it came down to it, he would risk everything again for the chance of Kudou’s companionship, so long as it was his choice to make.

The words slipped from his mouth without hesitation, “I don’t want that.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to let me go.”

Kudou’s lips parted in complete shock, as if he’d never allowed himself to even consider that Yoichi might decide not to push him away. As Yoichi watched, the first tentative spark of hope flickered behind his gaze, still fragile and tenuous.

“Then…” Kudou hesitated, his eyes flitting across Yoichi’s face. “What do you want?”

Yoichi’s mind flitted to another night, another time when Kudou’s arms had curled around him as he’d asked that same question. The answer had not changed.

You. Always you.

“I—” Yoichi swallowed hard, catching himself just before he allowed the truth to slip out. The danger hadn’t faded. Just because his brother was busy in the north didn’t mean Kudou wouldn’t be at risk if Yoichi answered honestly. “I don’t think I can ask for it.”

His words were hollow. He took a step back, the cold sinking into his skin as Kudou’s arms fell away.

Kudou was silent. Yoichi didn’t dare to look up at his face as he shifted on his feet.

“I was never brave enough to dream that I wouldn’t lose you before,” Kudou said finally, his voice slow as if making sure Yoichi heard every word. “But I want to be now. I think I could be, if you joined me in believing we could make it.”

Yoichi tilted his chin up to look at Kudou in spite of himself. His brows were furrowed with resolve, eyes fierce and full of the old familiar stubbornness. Yoichi was petrified as he watched him, torn between wanting to protect him and wanting to keep him near enough to stare at him forever.

“You don’t have to answer,” Kudou told him after a pause. “But you could take my hand.”

If you want to escape, you need only take my hand.

Yoichi stared as Kudou reached out an arm, palm turned upward and long fingers unfurling. His heart thrummed painfully, the splinters of it stabbing straight through his lungs until his breath hissed between his parted lips. How many nights had he sat by his open window, letting the breeze catch his hair as he wondered, What might have been different? How many times had he stared at the map Kudou had given him and tried to paint each location in his mind from the stories Kudou had told him?

When his mind lingered on that broken dream, his thoughts were always heavy with grief and regret. It had never once occurred to him that it might be able to be mended—that he might have a second chance to make his choice without the lies and betrayal clouding his view.

He knew the storm, the danger. He knew the risk that his brother would never let him go. And despite it all, he knew what he’d choose.

A dream. Still beautiful, even if it was cracked at the edges.

He took a deep breath and reached out to grab it.

Epilogue: The Eastern Reaches, Nearly One Year Later

The lake had been warmed by a summer’s worth of sunlight. He’d heard it froze in the winter, but it was a mild temperature now, refreshing as it lapped against his legs. It stretched out in front of him, its surface a glistening reflection of sprawling forest and sunset skies. Yoichi savored the feeling of the water across his bare skin as he watched the reflection of the sun slowly plummet toward the treetops.

The water rippled, scattering flecks of golden sunlight. Yoichi stilled as a fish cut its way through the water toward him, navy scale flashing as it looped around his feet and darted in to nibble at his toe. He couldn’t hold back a laugh at the tickling sensation.

The sound bounced across the water, sending the fish zooming away only to circle back again. It slowly drew closer as the sound of Yoichi’s laughter died away, scales glittering in the sinking sunlight.

“Made a friend, have you?”

The fish startled, gone in a flash as a new voice echoed across the lake. When Yoichi turned to glance over his shoulder, Kudou was standing on the dock behind him, watching Yoichi with a soft smile, “He must trust you. Wintertrout aren’t normally so bold.”

Yoichi huffed a laugh, “I think he just knows I’m never going to catch him.”

Kudou had tried a few times to teach him to fish, but so far, Yoichi had met little success. He hadn’t grown up on the water like Kudou, nor was he particularly coordinated with a fishing rod yet, but the biggest reason for his failure was motivation. Yoichi had once dreamed of learning to catch them, but now that he’d seen the fish up close, he much preferred just watching them swim.

Kudou glanced at him, “You disappeared from the festival. I was worried.”

Yoichi tilted his head, just able to make out the faint sound of music. The town they’d spent the last few months in was in the midst of throwing a festival, complete with street vendors and traveling musicians and dancing in the street. They’d used up most of the day enjoying the festivities in town as much as they could without drawing too much attention to themselves. It had been so much better than anything Yoichi had read about in his books.

“Sorry,” Yoichi blinked at Kudou apologetically. “I loved it. I wanted to stay all night, it’s just… It’s a lot of people. I thought I was getting used to it, but I suppose I’m not quite there yet.” He laughs lightly, turning to look back at the lake. “Strange, right? I’ve wanted to be around other people my whole life, and yet here I am.”

Kudou’s face softened, “I don’t think it’s strange. Ten months won’t undo twenty-something years of isolation. You shouldn’t try to force it, and you certainly don’t owe me any apologies for it.” His expression turned thoughtful as his eyes assessed Yoichi. “I won’t intrude. You know where I’ll be if you need—"

He broke off midsentence as Yoichi leaned back and grabbed the leg of his pants between his fingers.

“I didn’t mean you,” Yoichi rushed to tell him. “You can stay.” He blushed, loosening his grip. “I-if you want to, I mean. I wouldn’t want to keep you from the festivities.”

Kudou watched him for a second longer, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he rolled up his pant legs and took a seat by Yoichi’s side.

Yoichi let out a relieved breath, tilting his head to look at Kudou in his periphery. When he’d been back at the castle, he’d thought that the level of comfort he’d felt in Kudou’s presence had only been because Kudou was the first person to come near him without hurting him. Now, he knew it was more than that. He’d been around other people, and it wasn’t the same. There was no one he felt safer around than Kudou, and no one else whose company he craved with even half as much hunger.

That hunger hadn’t faded in the months they’d spent on the run. If anything, it grew stronger with each passing day. Yoichi knew he hadn’t been easy to keep safe—he’d been incapacitated by sickness the first few months and plagued by nightmares and paranoia long after. But even though it must have taken a heavy toll, Kudou had shouldered the burden of keeping Yoichi fed and safe and alive without complaint. He’d remained in a constant state of vigilance, sacrificing countless nights of sleep to keep guard and countless days of meals to keep Yoichi fed (he never admitted to it, but Yoichi wasn’t a fool). And when Yoichi became his own worst enemy, when he saw his brother’s face in the shadows or felt his hands around his throat when he tried to sleep, Kudou would light a candle to drive away the shadows and stroke Yoichi’s back until he could breathe again.

Yoichi wanted to be that for Kudou too. He wanted to be steadfast and unwavering—the person Kudou turned to first. But after their months on the run, Yoichi had become painfully aware of his own weakness. He was terrified that Kudou was just as conscious of Yoichi’s fraily, and that after so long looking after Yoichi, he’d always see him as someone to take care of, rather than someone to rely on.

He glanced down at Kudou’s hand, resting on the wood of the deck between them. He wanted so badly to curl his fingers around it, but he held himself back. They had been so busy running over the past year that there hadn’t been time for anything else. And now that they’d finally reached Kudou’s homeland, taking shelter in a hidden lakeside cabin that had belonged to Kudou’s family, Yoichi was no longer sure where they stood. He knew what he wanted, of course, but if Kudou no longer felt the same, he refused to let his feelings be another burden for the other man to bear.

“What are you thinking about?” Yoichi jumped as Kudou knocked his knee against Yoichi’s. The skin of his bare calf brushed against Yoichi’s leg beneath the water, sending a faint current of warmth across Yoichi’s skin before he drew away. “You only scrunch up your forehead like that when you’re serious.”

Yoichi held his breath as Kudou lifted a hand towards him face, a thoughtful look his face as he carefully tucked a strand of Yoichi’s hair behind his ear, “Are you thinking about…”

“No,” Yoichi shook his head immediately. “Well, I am now. But I wasn’t.”

His brother had handled Yoichi’s escape about as well as Yoichi had expected. He certainly hadn’t made it easy for Yoichi and Kudou to get as far as they had. They’d had too many close calls over the past year, and Yoichi was certain they would’ve had even more if the war in the north hadn’t demanded so much of the king’s attention. It had escalated since Yoichi had fled, the cold winter decimating enough of the king’s army to actually give the north a fighting chance. Last Yoichi had heard, there had been unrest amongst the king’s soldiers as the war drew on far longer than was promised—a stroke of good luck for Yoichi. His brother couldn’t send troops in the opposite direction of the war without risking an uprising amongst his own men.

Kudou hummed beneath his breath, letting his hand settle back on the wood of the dock, “Heard people in town saying the northerners have been gaining ground recently. With any luck, they’ll win and take him out in combat.”

Yoichi nodded, looking back at the lake. Even after everything. he still found it difficult to wish for his brother’s death, “It would be for the best.”

He felt Kudou’s gaze settle on his face, but the other man didn’t speak. He didn’t call Yoichi out for the hollowness in his voice when he spoke of his brother.

Silence stretched out between them. Yoichi waited for the fish to return to circling his feet as music distantly filtered through the trees surrounding them. Kudou leaned back on his hands, head tilted toward the sky.

When Yoichi was sure he wasn’t looking, he stole glances at Kudou, watching the pastel reflection of the sunset within Kudou’s sharp crimson eyes. Kudou’s hair was cut choppier than back at the castle. His skin had darkened from the sunlight, and he wore rough-spun clothing instead of jackets made of fish scales. It was a different version of Kudou than the refined nobleman Yoichi had met on the balcony so long ago, but it felt more authentic. Rougher edges, but a softer smile, no longer buried quite so deep in bitter history.

Yoichi glanced again at Kudou’s hand. His own fingers twitched where they lay in his lap, very slowly inching closer—

“Do you recognize this one?”

Yoichi jerked his hand back as Kudou turned toward him. It took him a second to realize that Kudou was asking about the music. The musicians in town had just started to play a new song.

He flushed, trying to focus enough to listen, “Oh, uh… isn’t this…?”

He knew the song. How could he not? It was the one Kudou had tried to teach him so long ago.

Kudou grinned at him, and in an instant, scrambled to his feet, “Well?” Yoichi blinked in surprise as Kudou stretched out a hand towards him—the very one Yoichi had been trying to reach for. “Should we see what you remembered?”

“W-what?”

Kudou’s smile softened, “Dance with me, Yoichi.”

His smile didn’t waver, but Yoichi read the hesitance behind his every word. It was a question, even if it didn’t sound like one. And by the way Kudou’s eyes latched onto his own, it was an important one.

Yoichi felt warmth flicker beneath his skin, “You’re sure? You’re not just asking because…” Because you pity me? Because you think it’s what I want? because you feel obligated?

Kudou’s smile faded, replaced by something far more serious, “I’m asking because I want to.”

Yoichi felt relief rush over him. Tentatively, he smiled back, reaching up to grasp Kudou’s hand. The warmth intensified where Kudou’s palm met his, tingling exhilaratingly as it rushed up his forearm towards the center of his chest. Kudou easily pulled him to his feet, not letting go of Yoichi’s hand as he swept them off the dock towards the grassy shoreline.

Yoichi let out a startled laugh as wind raced through his hair. It caught in his throat as Kudou’s other palm pressed against his lower back, steadying him as he drew Yoichi closer, then closer still, until Yoichi’s breath caught in his throat as he felt the warmth of Kudou’s body.

“Is this alright?” Kudou’s voice was a low whisper, an echo of another night on a balcony that was now a kingdom away. “You’ll tell me, right? If it’s too much?”

Yoichi could only nod wordlessly. He wasn’t sure if it was the wind or the pressure of Kudou’s hand against his back, but speaking felt too difficult to manage. Instead, he worked up all his courage and let go of Kudou’s hand, twining his arms around Kudou’s neck instead. He ducked his head away before he could see Kudou’s reaction, face burning.

Kudou let out a noise that sounded like a surprised laugh, though it was too deep in his chest to tell for sure. Yoichi sucked in a breath as his fingers reached out, dancing along Yoichi’s jaw as he carefully guided Yoichi’s face back to look at him.

His eyes were luminous in the setting sun, bright and intense, “Is it what you imagined, Yoichi?”

“What?”

Kudou’s gaze flickered away for just a moment, “I know this past year… It hasn’t exactly been like your stories. When you imagined seeing the world, you were probably expecting more—”

“I wasn’t.”

It was Kudou’s turn to blink at him in confusion.

“I mean,” Yoichi hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Whatever I read back in the castle, it can’t compare. Being here, experiencing everything myself, being with you… That’s what I wanted. That’s what I chose. No fantasy could compete.”

Kudou’s eyes traveled across his face for a long moment, his face flashing with a jumbled mix of emotions. Yoichi thought he saw relief, and maybe a flash of hopefulness, though he couldn’t tell for sure, “You mean that?”

Yoichi smiled, “Of course I do.”

He was standing in front of a view so stunning he wasn’t sure a painting would do it justice, swaying to distant music with the warmth of Kudou’s body mingling with his own. He wished he could open up his mind and transfer his consciousness, just to show Kudou how happy he felt in this moment.

“You want to…be with me?” Kudou whispered softly.

That was what Kudou was asking. Yoichi felt himself flush again, but he couldn't bring himself to lie, “I- I always have. You know that.”

Kudou swallowed, looking uncharacteristically timid, “I wasn’t sure, now that your health is improving enough to go wherever you wish, if you’d still want to…”

He trailed off, averting his eyes. Yoichi just gaped at him. How could Kudou think he’d ever want to leave him? Yoichi had barely been holding himself back from Kudou these past few months, and he’d only managed it because he’d thought Kudou’s feelings might have changed. This whole time...had Kudou been doing the same thing?

It almost made him want to laugh. They were dancing around each other once again, when all Yoichi truly wanted was to dance with him.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Kudou cast his eyes toward the ground. “If you want to go, I would never keep—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yoichi didn’t let Kudou finish his sentence. He didn’t let himself hesitate for a second longer. He grabbed Kudou’s face between his hands and pulled it towards his own, catching only a brief glimpse of Kudou’s wide-eyed surprise before he leaned in and kissed him.

Kudou’s grip tightened around Yoichi’s waist as he pulled him closer and returned the kiss with just as much vigor, his touch gentle as his hand curved around base of Yoichi’s neck. Yoichi leaned into him hungrily, the wind cool against his face as every place his body touched Kudou burned with an exhilarating warmth.

When he pulled back to breathe, he didn’t let go of Kudou’s face, still staring deep into Kudou’s eyes as he whispered fiercely, “I’m not going anywhere without you, alright? So don’t even suggest it.”

Kudou blinked, looking slightly dazed. As Yoichi watched, his surprise shifted back into that hesitantly hopeful look Yoichi had seen earlier, mouth twisting up at the corners, “Then the same goes for you. So long as you’ll have me, I’ll be there.”

Yoichi’s hands still gripped Kudou’s face as he leaned closer, the faint swell of music ringing in his ears, “That might be a very long time.”

A pleased smile danced across Kudou’s lips, his voice soft as he reached towards his own face to tangle his fingers with Yoichi’s, “I truly hope so.”