Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The day had barely started, yet the sky wore a shade of dark gray, the clouds descending to the ground in the form of a deep fog. The air was cold, but the ocean being not so far in distance from the land filled the atmosphere with humidity. The midday mist blurred the lines between the pine trees, and Eijirou had to give his left shoulder a shaky rise to keep the sling of his brown leather bag in place. The droplets of sweat brought a shine to his face covered in grime, but his scrunched brows didn’t leave space to doubt his concentration.

A few carmin colored strands escaped the man’s makeshift ponytail, the purple ribbon barely tying his hair together anymore. Eijirou’s breath was labored, exhaustion difficulting each of his inspirations. Red eyes laid on the uneven dirt path that ventured through the dense forest of Kurai, his worn out boots still holding on despite previous endless months of hard work. He wondered if they would finally give out today, which would be quite symbolic for the redhead.

After covering some distance, the slope reached a long awaited end. Although the young man was familiar with the route he had been taking every week for years before leaving, a silly voice in the back of his mind kept complaining about that particular stage. It felt like he was climbing a ninety degree mountain wall, if he had to describe it in his own dramatic terms. Eijirou almost chuckled to himself at the thought, eyebags staining his usually lively face.

How long had it last? Months, for sure… Could it be counted in years? The young man had no idea, and he didn’t want to overthink it either, afraid of opening up wounds that finally started to heal. Observing the scenery brought by his homeland, Eijirou knew they only had a few nights before the harsh winter poked out and tested their survival once more. The memories of his last winter spent with his family caught him by the throat. His eyes stung in emotion, but a smile on his face sufficed to keep any tears at bay.

It had been a great winter. Growing season had been prosperous, and each member had been able to fill their hungry stomach reasonably without complaint or any ache. The head of the Kirishimas, Eijirou’s father, despite his mature age, had been able to cut a good amount of wood in preparation. And when the wood was lacking, he and Eijirou went on an excursion to find any dry goods, and sometimes attempted to hunt. They mostly caught birds and squirrels, and were lucky enough once to get a rabbit. The redhead had left the following summer.

Each of their outings was a moment of teaching for younger Eijirou. His father, Kenshin, had always been wise, sometimes even summoned in the center of the village to share his knowledge and advise the reduced council on their small scale politics. Many were the offers for the man to join, but Kenshin always refused.

“We all have a hunger, and that is not mine.”

That one stuck with Eijirou. More often than not, his father’s sayings were too complex for him to bother thinking them through. Eijirou had always been more practical, his strength resided in his hands. Yes, he reflected on all kinds of matters, but he never thought of himself as a good thinker- how could he when he was his father’s son? This saying, on the other hand, was easy to read, understand. Or at least, he found his own interpretation to it. Only, it was better to ignore it, denying he ever heard those words, especially when his heart ached with the desire of escaping that cage when away from home. An escape was not without consequences, so he preferred to convince himself he forgot, rather than being reminded of how powerless he had been.

His mother would disagree with him though, he was certain. Mayumi’s caring and nurturing nature had only but covered Eijirou and his sisters with the heaviest blanket of love as they grew up. Leaving them behind had been heartbreaking, but knowing his home, it was a little bit easier to reassure himself the rare times he did. Not being present, his strong arms and quick feet could do nothing for his family. 

Eijirou was getting overwhelmed as his steps led him to the modest wooden cottage. To anyone else, it would have looked as if randomly built, in the middle of nowhere. Yet, the area held no secrets to Eijirou, nor to any of the members of his family. The closer he got, the harder his heart pumped in his weakened body, the more adrenaline became the only fuel keeping him together.

Had last winter been as harsh for them as it had been for him? Had his mother finished sewing up their new blanket? Had his father cut out all the logs for the upcoming winter? Did Takumi manage to sell her artistry downtown? Had Touka finally been taken on her first hunt with Father and her wolf? Has Etsumi learned to walk yet? Questions flew from every side in his mind, almost feeling like an attack- ashamed of not thinking about them enough, of not reaching out to them all this time.

Before he knew it, he stood in front of the dark colored door, a chipped berry colored paint Takumi had insisted on creating. It lasted until this day. The singular window was covered by a ragged curtain from the inside, making it impossible to look inside. The woods surrounding him were strangely silent, but Eijirou assumed maybe it was still too early in the day to have his father work and Touka running around into child-like adventures. Maybe Estumi was asleep, hence him not hearing a toddler’s blabber or cries.

And something caught his attention. The faintest of noises, hard to recognise. At least he knew the house wasn’t empty. He took slow and heavy steps up the stairs of the porch, the material creaking under his weight. Eijirou took a deep breath, smiling to himself as he pressed his palm against the door, hoping it was unlocked. He tried to not waste too much time imagining his family slowly emerging from sleep, grinning upon seeing him, rushing to hug tight.

No. No time to waste. Eijirou was finally home. He pushed the door, his smile remaining on his face, but expression confused. The main room was dark, a few candles lit, the curtains not allowing much light inside. The fireplace wasn’t lit though, his sisters’ bed a mess of fabrics and covers in the corner.

Around the dining table, Touka sat in front of a bowl that held what looked like some porridge. Shiny gray eyes looked up to him, shocked, but unmoving. They lacked the young girl’s malice. Her wild red hair was uncharacteristically up in a bun. Eijirou raised a curious brow, smile flattening as he turned his head a bit, seeing Takumi’s figure sitting on the facing chair, holding a sleeping Etsumi in her arms. Takumi looked like a grown woman. White apron over a purple dress, her favorite color. Her black hair was up in a similar bun as Touka, but much more sophisticated. She reminded him of their mother. Meanwhile, Etsumi looked so different from the memory Eijirou had of her. She was a baby when he left. Now she could probably speak, could she eat solids? Her hair was short and spiky, a dark shade of brown. Had her piercing blue eyes darkened?

Takumi’s body jolted in recognition, her tired crimson eyes meeting Eijirou’s. “Brother.” She uttered in a shocked gasp. She shifted, as if she wanted to get up and come up to him, but the sleeping child on her lap stopped her.

“Takumi.” Eijirou’s soft smile came back. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. He took a step further inside the house, allowing the door to close behind him. “Estumi…” His words were barely whispers, his voice deep but cracking as emotion took over his being again. Finally, his eyes darted over his second younger sister. “Touka.” He breathed out in acknowledgement. But the girl still hadn’t moved, her face closing off and looking away, somber.

This awkward reunion left Eijirou uneasy. “You all look beautiful. So grown.” He forced his smile wider, to which Takumi, in her gentle nature, replied with a similar action.

“You look…” Takumi started softly, eyes saddening. “...Tired.”

To that, Eijirou glanced at the floor for half a second, snorting lightly. “I’m bearing news.” He changed subjects. “Where are Father and Mother?” He asked, taking the freedom to slide his satchel down his arm, then placing it down by the door.

Takumi’s eyes filled with tears, visibly searching for her words, but it was Touka who spoke, acting neutral as she grabbed her spoon and played with her porridge. “Bedroom.” Short. Simple. Cold.

Eijirou inspired deeply, stomach turning and twisting. He didn’t know what to expect when coming home, but this wasn’t in any of the scenarios he imagined, not quite. With a curt nod, he walked towards the entrance of the only bedroom of their house, if that small pantry could be considered that. There wasn’t a door, but a longer brown-ish curtain nailed to the top of the wall.

With a careful hand, he pushed the curtain to the side, just enough for him to cross to the otherside. He had to lower his head to enter in order to avoid bumping it against the doorframe. When his eyes explored what was inside, his heart stopped, mouth getting dry.

“Mother.” He whispered, moving to kneel beside her, her slender figure shaking in silent sobs. Mayumi knelt before the bed, holding her lying husband’s cold hand. Eijirou’s large hands rubbed her shoulders in comfort, warming her shivering body as he could.

As soon as she recognised the touch, the elder leaned back into him. “Oh, Eiji… My son.” She sniffled, trying to regain composure in vain.

“Yes, Mother. I’m here.” He whispered, helpless.

Then, he looked at his father, immobile, eyes closed, his once dark skin seeming so much paler now. His chest moved slowly up and down. Reality hadn’t completely hit Eijirou yet- or should he say, his mind couldn’t process the amount of emotions bottled inside his chest. His body, on the other hand, was feeling. The redhead sniffled, eyes finally tearing up, body spasming.

“Son…” His father’s tired voice was heard, shaking up Eijirou out of his shock. He scrambled closer, grasping on his mother’s and father’s hands at once.

“Yes, Father? I’m sorry, Father-” Eijirou choked on wet words.

“What news… Do you bring?” Eyes still closed, it looked difficult to mutter out those words for Kenshin.

“The war is over.” Eijirou declared, resting his forehead on the edge of the bed, unable to handle the sight of his father on his deathbed. It was too soon, way too soon. His mother’s louder sob of relief, tainted by her own pain, could be heard in the entire house. Soon, a slamming door as well. Eijirou assumed Touka went outside.

In response, his father sighed. Peace.

Nights later, Kenshin died.

+++

After a few calmer days, made up from solitary wandering episodes in the woods, Eijirou had collected enough tree trunks to at least warm their house during the colder nights. The search wasn’t over, but he needed to prep what he already had. The air was quickly turning icier each night, and the blankets weren’t enough to keep his family’s body temperatures high anymore. So far, they were approvisionned by the amount Kenshin had worked on before falling ill. The sun was already high in the sky, and Eijirou had yet to cut down about half of the logs he piled next to what would look like a weak and terribly small shed.

The redhead remembered building it years ago, when he was a mere teenager, under his father’s teachings. He definitely was blessed with Kenshin’s carpentry talents. All the planks weren’t the same size, nor was the surface smooth, undoubtedly giving it a rudimentary look, but it stood. And the shed occupied the same function as any shed, which was what mattered for Kenshin once his eyes softened at the sight of Eijirou accomplishing his first wood project.

Now, giving it a short glance, Eijirou couldn’t help but frown a little in annoyance. He could have done a better job, maybe making it slightly bigger. They could have fit more wood and maybe have space for more than a horse, a cow and a few chickens. The thought sent a wave of disgust throughout his body. How dared he complain about such richness, deeming it almost as irrelevant? The post war poverty had hit them all full force, some of their neighbors didn’t even have a proper roof over their heads, nor a slice of bread in their plate. Greed was one of the most poisonous flaws one could have.

He could tell his own sisters’ were silent about their growing hunger. Touka went downtown everyday to the local bakery, although the only thing they sold anymore was overpriced bread. Thanks to her help by working there for a few hours, and in exchange of a few eggs every other week, the girl managed to bring a loaf of bread home every afternoon. Eijirou was grateful for Taishiro allowing his sister around, knowing how much of a hard head she could be. Especially after their father’s passing. Deep down, the redhead also knew this was the girl’s perfect escape from home, and that she needed that distance. Knowing Ryuu, Touka’s wolf, didn’t leave his sister’s side was also a relief when it came to his worries about the girl taking a little too long to be back home.

Takumi spent many days at home. She would sometimes go to the weekly market in search of a few unused fabrics and rags, hopeful she could find cheap threads. On a few rare occasions, she was lucky to find ornaments that people gave away, not finding any utility to them. Unfortunately, as days passed, the more the crisis took place in their region. It had been hard to find anything this week. So, for the rest of her time, the young woman would care for Estumi. The toddler wasn’t as chubby as they hoped for, but Eijirou was glad she still looked quite healthy. The redhead sometimes wondered if he should worry about her not having said a word yet, but seeing her little feet race around the house always helped ease his mind.

Cutting another log with a grunt, his thoughts started drifting towards his mother. It was difficult to think of her. Mayumi had always been a sweetheart of a woman, yet opinionated and ambitious. The woman hitting rock bottom would sound like a terrible lie to any of her loved ones. Yet, that same woman hadn’t left the bed where her husband lost his life for days. Eijirou would coax her to drink, eat a bite. Takumi was the one to encourage and help with hygiene, the young man thought this was better as a women’s task, for the sake of his mother’s intimacy and self preservation. Eijirou tried to help with the household chores, he attempted to get a look at the few papers scattered here and there: finances, royal communications, family tracts… He was glad he had learned to read back in the camps. This would pretty much be the only reason he was grateful for having been forced to fight as a knight.

“Eijirou?” Takumi’s voice could be heard from within the house and Eijirou allowed the comforting sound to stop his painful train of thoughts.

“Coming, ‘Kumi.” He gave a short reply, letting the ax fall to the ground in a thud.

Eijirou entered the house, taking off his fur as the warmth relaxed his lungs. Their home held a heavy atmosphere, the winter only provided them gloomy days. Eijirou didn’t even dislike winter. He liked the snow, actually. But this year winter was depressing, and it had just begun. Thankfully, whenever his eyes caught sight of brown, red or black tufts of hair while he stepped through the red wooden door, his heart felt lighter. He would do anything for his sisters, for his mother. He would sacrifice his life for them. When their father died, Eijirou felt a sense of higher responsibility fall upon his shoulders instantly. Do not get him wrong- the redhead believed women were just as capable as men. But the world is cruel. Being the only man in the family now, he felt he had a role to fulfill, which he would never complain about.

It was as if the cold daylight dimmed into a warmer shade when his eyes found a sleeping Estumi on the girl’s bed, thumb falling from her lips, lashes barely fluttering while the little girl’s mind ventured into the world of dreams. Her rosy cheeks made the man curve his lips into a soft smile, unable to walk further inside without thinking of how cute she looked. Soon enough, his gaze met Takumi’s. The girl’s bun was slowly coming loose, her hands at work in the process of making yet another simple porridge.

“We do not have much wheat left.” She announced in a soft sigh.

Eijirou gave her a short and reassuring nod at that. “It’s fine, I’ll go downtown tomorrow and get some more.” He hummed, walking past her and giving her hair a gentle pat to which she pouted.

“My hair-!” Takumi complained, hiding her amused smile. She had missed her brother, so even his teasing, the familiarity, made her happy instead of truly annoyed. And she could use some lightness.

The redhead just ignored her complaint and reached the fireplace, bending to add a piece of wood into the red flames. A slight rattle made him raise his head up, taking sight of a clay bowl holding warm porridge inside. With an understanding exchange of looks with his sister, Eijirou rose himself up, grabbed the bowl and a spoon, before walking into the bedroom. 

The curtains were pulled in, leaving the room close to complete darkness, if it wasn’t for the burning candle placed by the nightstand. Mayumi laid on the small bed, curled on herself, body barely moving under her breathing. Her black curls cascaded down the edge of the frame. The spot his father used to sleep in was empty.

“Mother.” Eijirou called with a smooth tone. “Takumi made lunch.”

The woman didn’t move for long seconds, but her son was patient. Eventually, she reluctantly rose to a sitting position, her piercing blue eyes meeting Eijirou’s before having to look away. The young man knew why, he resembled much like his father, inheriting his bright red hair and eyes. He got his mother’s nose, lips and lashes, but it wasn’t enough to keep Kenshin’s memory away. The sight must be unbearable, the redhead thought to himself.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” His mother managed the smallest smile, wanting to reassure her grown child. Weakly, she turned towards him, gaze resting on the ground. “I believe… I will feed myself this time.” 

Those simple words managed to make Eijirou’s heart skip a beat. “Y-yes. Of course.” He held out the bowl to his mother, an indescribable feeling of hope emanating from him.

Mayumi carefully held the food, slowly spooning some and bringing it to her mouth. Eijirou sat on the floor, silent, but happy to witness this important step forward. His mother was slow, sometimes he thought she might not want to finish her meal. Then, after three swallowing three spoons of warm porridge, Mayumi looked back at the young man.

His childlike face, sat on the hard flooring, elbows resting on high knees, she couldn’t help but stare a little. His cheeks weren’t as round as they were a few years back, a soft stubble grew on his chin and his cheeks. The tall teenager now had the figure of a man… And her heart broke a bit more at the thought of her child in a battlefield, mere weeks ago. Due to the cold weather, Eijirou dressed with many layers. Mayumi could never guess what scars lingered over his skin.

“Did you meet with Tomo yet?” She broke the silence. Since Kenshin’s death, her talkative nature had died. She had been a shadow of herself. Now, the woman felt it was time to come back.

Eijirou glanced away, scratching his neck sheepishly. “Ah- no. I didn’t really meet up with anyone. Saw him a few days ago at the market.” He shrugged.

Mayumi played with her food. “You should ask him to meet.” She hummed. “I’m sure he misses his friend, and that you miss him too. It could… do you some good.” 

Eijirou’s eyes were on his mother, an expression of shock on his face. This must have been the longest conversation he had had with his mother in such a long time, and there she was implying he should be going out with friends.

“Maybe go fishing… if the lake is not ice yet.” She suggested, frowning to herself. Mayumi was trying hard to find some normalcy. 

“Hum…” Eijirou bit his lip. “It is alright, Mother. I’ll see Tomo in due time. I would rather care for you and the girls.” He admitted in all honesty, to which his mother nodded. 

Tomo, Eijirou’s childhood friend, was a playful and serviable man. He had always been a person of importance in his life. It was a friendship that exceeded many people’s expectations. The shorter black haired man was a regular offender in the area, a rebellious thief, but being a child spared him the harshest of consequences back then. Still, Eijirou saw in him the boy that was craving structure and affection. He befriended him quickly, and they grew up together. Then the war came. They had both been convocated, but stayed in different camps. On the rare occasions the two young men met, Tomo seemed different. Therefore, Eijirou wasn’t sure how to connect again, although he hoped they would sometime soon.

On her side, his mother was deep in thought. She cursed herself for raising such selfless children. Mayumi felt she had been enough of a burden to her family, but none of them had ever been the root of that thought- on the contrary. All had been helpful, patient and loving with her, despite all going through the grieving process after the loss of their father. Not a single complaint had been heard, not a glimpse of resentment towards her. Mayumi was grateful, but she knew there was a lot to get a hold of from now on. She wanted to do more than to just feed herself, but her body didn’t allow it yet. Glancing around the room, memories emerged, and the woman had to blink more than once to keep her eyes from tearing up.

“Alright.” She hummed, her mind starting to gather some thoughts over the matter. She looked at the curtain separating the bedroom from the main division, where Takumi set the table for the rest of her siblings.

The conversation died there. It had been short, a few words. The silence fell over the two individuals once again, but this time it felt much lighter. It wasn’t suffocating anymore.

+++

After a long conversation with Takumi, Eijirou had been convinced to go out that evening. Apparently, the local tavern was celebrating an important announcement, or so his sister had heard when she met Tomo on her way back home from the market that morning. She was the messenger of his invitation to join him there for a drink. It seemed all stars had aligned with the conversation he had with his mother a few days ago. The redhead decided to take it as a sign. Reuniting with Tomo was the occasion to revive their friendship, clear his spirits outside of his home, maybe a beer wouldn’t hurt. He was reticent when he first heard the suggestion, wary of what kind of memory might arise from the sight of his friend, who ended up becoming a companion of war.

After putting on multiple layers of clothing to fight the chilly temperature that engulfed the forest once the sun was setting down, and after he was reassured that his mother and sisters would be alright alone for a few short hours, Eijirou followed the overly familiar path of dirt- or dare he say mud- leading into town. Less than half an hour later, he reached the flimsy gates, signaling the entrance to their main village, carrying the name of Doa. There were a few houses made out of wood, wattle and daub. Most were quite small and modest, although a few stood out, belonging to richer habitants. Some lanterns hung from stone pillars, lightning up most of the roads. The redhead knew his way around, but he couldn’t help thinking about how easy it was to find the tavern just by following the absurdly loud disturbance in the distance.

His feet took him there, and before he knew, he entered a ridiculously warm place. The lights were dim, a foyer burning brightly in the corner while tables and chairs were scattered all around, not a single one empty. Most of the voices were distinctively male, a few smoother ones could still be heard, those of the women, mostly working there. Eijirou frowned to himself. The man didn’t appreciate this kind of environment much. He was quick to move towards the bar, and as he did so, his eyes scanned the place, looking for Tomo. The heat was slowly getting to him in an uncomfortable manner and he needed to take off a few layers, having to carry them on his forearm. 

As he was about to reach the counter, a firm palm grabbed his shoulder. It happened fast. Eijirou didn’t think twice, he caught the wrist, twisting it out painfully and turning around, ready to strike in defense- Only his eyes met Tomo’s dark irises and his body paused. The redhead took in his friend’s confused and wincing expression, and he realized he was panting, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Gently releasing his hold on him, Eijirou slowly realized the nature of his reaction. It almost made him sick. Getting surprised from being sneaked upon hadn’t been a problem at home, surely because he couldn’t feel safer anywhere else. Nonetheless, an uncontrollable and slightly aggressive reaction in public settings and crowded spaces might become a problem.

“Tomo- Man… I’m sorry.” Eijirou let out a nervous smile, unsure what to expect from the shorter man. He tried to ignore his twisting stomach.

Granting him relief, Tomo’s face softened slightly, keeping his smile polite. “Didn’t expect you to greet your friend in such a way.” He teased, relaxed.

Yet, Eijirou was able to decipher comprehension in his eyes, maybe a glimpse of compassion as well. “A hug is my usual greeting of choice, but I know you don’t fancy them.” The redhead reciprocated the playfulness.

Tomo snorted, then an awkward silence fell upon them, muffled by the neverending noise surrounding them. Eijirou bit his lip, and when both opened their mouths, attempting to say something- anything to put a stop to these uncomfortable seconds- they both got distracted by a man at the counter.

“Gonna order somethin’ or?” The older man grumbled, face shaped by his pronounced wrinkles, a thin braided beard dangling from his chin.

“Oh- Uhm-”

“Two beers, please.” Tomo cut Eijirou, placing two golden coins on the counter, before leaning against it with his elbow. “Hope you won’t complain about the taste.” He hummed to Eijirou, seemingly ready to speak.

The redhead mimicked Tomo’s attitude, resting his elbow in a similar way, while facing his friend. “Probably won’t. But I'm not sure I’ll keep a straight face.” He chuckled, reminded of the times they drank together as teenagers, Eijirou had never liked the bitter taste of alcoholic drinks.

“One would think you’d get used to it in camp. Isn’t that what kept you warm enough to survive through last winter?” Tomo asked as he grabbed one of the cups that had just been placed before them.

Eijirou was stunned for a second at how nonchalant Tomo sounded while asking that, abruptly drifting the freshly started conversation into deeper topics. “Uhm. Yeah…” He cleared his throat, uneasy and glancing away. “I still dislike it.” He replied shortly, not necessarily feeling like venturing into those waters, but not feeling like turning Tomo down either.

Yet, it seemed Tomo was acting strange… Although, it wasn’t any different than the few times they had met while their Kingdom was still at war. “Right.” Tomo muttered, adjusting himself, looking equally uneasy at that moment. For a minute, Eijirou felt bad. Ever since they were little boys, Eijirou was the talkative one, the inquisitive and curious one. Tomo wasn’t shy per se, but inevitably seemed quieter compared to the loud redhead. Even when he grew up into a teenager and young adult, his mouth wouldn’t shut. But he wasn’t the same man he was months, years ago. Neither was Tomo, and that, both the men felt it.

Eijirou didn’t expect his heart to clench so strongly in his chest during this entire time. He was prepared for some emotion, but this was slowly building to a higher level than just that. His emotions weren’t solely wandering through his soul in wait for some acknowledgement. Instead, they were banging at his flesh and skin from the inside out, holding out knives and swords in attempts to escape their bodily cage. Restless under the assault of his own feelings, incapable of processing them in that precise moment, the redhead suddenly chugged his entire cup down in one sitting, leaving Tomo in slight awe.

Eijirou tried to clear out his mind, he didn’t want to think of the worst months of his life. He had done great at burying all those memories deep, very deep in the confines of a locked box inside his skull. He wouldn’t let Tomo open up the wounds he had been poorly patching up. And it was clear the other man had gotten the message, reading his distress through his body language.

“Have you heard about what happened in the capital?” Tomo changed subjects, putting a halt to Eijirou's spiraling. The latter looked up to him with a raised brow, prompting him to carry on, welcoming the distraction. Matters of the capital were matters of the King and his Queen, reigning over the Kingdom of Shouri. Whatever kind of crucial information or gossip Tomo might be thinking of, it must have been huge for it to travel all the way to Doa, an irrelevant village bordering the rival Kingdom, Kaen. Shouri’s grand capital was several days away horse riding, probably weeks of distance if anyone went by foot. “They say the prince has been taken.” His friend hummed, a smirk on the corner of his lips as he took a sip.

Eijirou’s eyes widened, shocked by the announcement. Slowly, he looked around, eyebrows twitching as realization settled. “How can you be sure? By who?” He questioned, nodding at the old man behind the bar to serve him another drink. “I suppose that’s the reason the tavern is so lively and cheerful tonight. They are celebrating…” He hummed to himself.

Tomo shrugged. “I can’t be sure. But the sources seemed trustworthy enough that the entire Kingdom knows by now. I think it happened like… two weeks ago? By people like us.” He answered, tapping his index on his chin in reflection. “Of course they are.” He added, expression growing more serious. “They say this was a threat to the King. ‘Feed us or your only heir to the throne will bleed- and you’ll be next’.” The man quoted.

The redhead sighed quietly, bothered by mixed feelings. “I don’t know. I feel like we shouldn’t celebrate the abduction of anyone. Given his title, who knows what’s happened to that guy.” He mumbled, before adding. “But… His people are hungry. Children are dying from hunger.” Eijirou couldn’t help but conclude, his thoughts diverging towards Etsumi, who he knew would be one of the first victims to this injustice if nothing was done. His heart clenched at the hypothetical possibility.

“Eijirou… You are too much of an empath. One would think war would have opened your eyes to the real world. The King couldn’t care less about us. He couldn’t care less about you .” Tomo scoffed. “If his son has to be sacrificed to save the population, then so be it. His life isn’t worth more than ours.”

But why would it be worth less?-

He shook away the thought. 

The words were harsh to hear, but Eijirou had to admit they held some truth. He didn’t spiral this time. Tomo had always been blunt and undisguised about his opinions. And part of him wants to agree, especially after witnessing first hand the slow descent of their way of living, slowly resembling mere survival. Yet, he wondered what the prince thought of this all. Did he have a heart? Did he care for his people? Was he that kind of prince? The kind that couldn’t be blamed for the actions his parents took. For a long time, Eijirou refused to believe humanity could be as cruel as the tales would tell, then he grew up. Then he fought a war- and with a grim expression, he understood his denial was easier and easier to counter. When faced with the direct consequences, it was difficult to close his eyes and keep on relying on hope.

After a few more beers, the night became relaxing and loosened. Eijirou and Tomo’s conversation soon drifted away from the prince’s abduction. Like old friends, they would talk of alls and nothings, ending their reunion on cackles and laughs, the sounds merging with the other voices present. It felt nice to see Tomo again, and Eijirou promised they would meet more often now before he parted ways with the man. His walk back home was unsteady, but successful.

+++

Touka was on her way home, walking at a hurried pace. Not that she had anything urgent to do, but the repressed emotions left the young girl agitated on a daily basis. Ryuu, a dark and intimidating wolf, calmly walked beside her, panting in thirst. That made her frown. She had forgotten to make him drink back at Taishiro’s bakery before they left. Somehow, that small detail made her angry. Something came to tickle her neck. Her hand quickly swatted the tips of her hair away, letting out a frustrated grunt.

Her red unruly locks fell on her shoulders, bouncing at each of the steps she took. Every morning, she was quick to mess up the bun Takumi put her hair in once she was out of sight. Her older sister wanted to preserve her hair, often talking about how lucky she had been to be born with that shade of red- she also mentioned it would help keep it smooth. It was prone to get so many tangles, and Touka’s short temper always got frustrated brushing it out. Her mother had tried to fight the knots but Touka would always cry out in pain. Takumi was no exception and she wouldn’t even let Eijirou try. But Kenshin knew. He would take his time, carefully gathering a strand of hair at a time on his palm, starting from the bottom, untangling his way up to her roots. And sometimes Touka would fall asleep under the soothing motions, before being woken up by a kiss on the top of her head.

At the core memory, overwhelming feelings bubbled up her chest, like hot lava. Her eyes squinted angrily at the wet ground, and soon her sight could only distinguish a blurry dirt path. Touka’s nose got snotty, and her body shuddered under a quiet sob. She convinced herself she wasn’t crying, carried on with the walking until she stumbled on a rock. Touka lost her footing, but caught her balance back, preventing a nasty fall. Still, it was absolutely necessary to kick the stupid rock with as much strength as she could gather. Then she let herself fall back in a sitting position, bent her knees up and hugged her legs.

This path didn’t get much movement, as the only people using it were the Kirishimas along the years. Surrounded by high trees, the silence could have been deafening if it wasn’t for the young girl’s cries. Ryuu came up to her, trying to get a look, but the redhead was hiding her face in her arms. Her body spasmed in attempted breaths, which led to Ryuu letting out a worried bark before rubbing his snout against the side of her head.

“Get off, Ryuu-!” Touka sobbed, not even tolerating being perceived by her wolf.

It was the first time Touka let herself down. She felt she was being weak, although a little voice in the corner of her mind reminded her of her parents’ words about how processing emotions wasn’t something to fear. Feeling and being vulnerable was a strength not even their King could face, they had said. Yet, she didn’t feel strong at that moment. A wet snout came up again, stubborn enough to reach her cheek and she let out a huff.

“Let me.” She sniffled, but she had no bite to give him anymore.

Ryuu rounded her a little, before laying comfortably wrapped around most of her body. He rested his head over his front legs, eyes darting to each small sound he heard. Despite his relaxed appearance, he was ready to rise up at any given moment, at any alarming sign. Touka weeped for a few more minutes, pouring out all of her pain. She had been unknowingly bottling up, and reached her limit. Grief is hard, it will never be okay again , she thought to herself.

She thought back to her mother, who had started going back to her routines. She could take care of herself now. Mother is getting better , she had heard Takumi and Eijirou commenting these past few days. They didn’t share the information with her, of course. They thought she was too young to get involved in those matters. She often felt Eijirou’s eyes on her, wanting to be reassuring, but it did nothing for the girl. She was still upset about his sudden departure, although it had been pushed aside by a greater pain. Touka had the maturity to know she couldn’t get her nose in some aspects surrounding the passing- but she wasn’t a child anymore! She brought bread home everyday, sat for lunch and dinner with them everyday… She comforted mother when she needed to, almost every day. Yet, they would hide things, try to protect her. They seemed to forget it was her father too, who died.

Breathing, regaining a steady pace, she slowly raised her head, resting her cheek on her forearm while her eyes just looked over the horizon. She complained about her siblings, but she saw all that they did for Mother, Etsumi and her. Eijirou and Takumi worked all day, different tasks of equal exhaustion. Touka worked a little in the mornings, making bread, and bringing a loaf home. That was it. She could do so much more, but her eldests wouldn’t have it. They meant for her to get some freedom and enjoy her free time, but what was there to enjoy in seeing her mother depressed or being in the woods alone? 

Her mind was a mess. The world was unfair, and she couldn’t handle that fact. It was during her moment of reflection that she felt Ryuu suddenly getting back on his paws, facing the direction behind her back. Before she could catch a glimpse of what was there, he barked, then lowered in an offensive stance. Seeing such alarming signs, Touka quickly got to her feet, whipped her head around just for her eyes to find a moving form in the distance.

It looked like a man, unsteady on his feet, disoriented, slow. Her heart jumped out of her chest in fear. This wasn’t a silhouette she recognised, and there was no reason for a random stranger to walk in this area. At least, no reason that wouldn’t inspire danger. Frozen, Touka couldn’t move. Perhaps, the overwhelming moment she just lived took away some of her fight or flight instincts, although the man had done nothing aside from walking in her direction. This lack of focus and attention to herself and her surroundings didn’t allow her to realize Ryuu had left her side, rushing to their home in barks.

Touka took a fearful step back, frowning as she could make out blood on fancy clothing as the man approached slowly. These were made of fabrics she had never seen before, and she could bet Takumi hadn’t either. His boots were covered in mud and greens from the forest. Wet muddy sounds could be heard from there. His pants just looked dirtied, while the blood mostly stained his thin barely white shirt under a torn up jacket. He must feel so cold . The girl couldn’t make out much more details. He looked beyond disheveled. His skin looked unusually fair if she had to compare to hers. The man’s hair seemed to hold a light shade of brown, unless it was the result of grime darkening it. His uneven bangs hid his eyes, reaching right over the tip of his nose, covered in dried blood. The more she observed him, the more her initial apprehension subdued. That man was hurt.

Touka gathered some courage and spoke up. “He-hello?” She could see the condensation of his hot and irregular breath meeting the cold air. “Do you… need help?” She asked, feeling her feet glued to the ground the closer he got.

The man hid one of his hands underneath his dark amber colored jacket. Touka’s heart beat faster, realizing the man was now at arms length from her, towering her. She could distinguish the shake of his shoulders, as if he had walked endlessly. His lips were chapped, his nose frostbitten, and his mouth was contorted into a seemingly displeased scowl. Touka gasped, stepping back once more, just for the man to get closer again.

“You are b-bleeding.” Touka sniffled, not realizing her anxiety had gotten the best of her. “I can call my brother! He can- He can help.” Somehow, she felt the need to mention it. Her hopes were that he wasn’t a predator.

“Touka!” Eijirou’s low growl could be heard as he pulled his younger sister back, taking her place. Before she knew it, she was back on her butt again, although this time it was a direct consequence from her brother shoving her back a bit too roughly. Ryuu quickly snaked around her, taking his stance in front of the girl to provide added protection. Touka looked up, her brother’s wide standing frame blocking the sight of the mysterious man. All she could see was Eijirou panting. He had run all the way there for her.

The only thing Eijirou could think of once he pushed his sister out of harm’s way was what would have happened if he came one minute later. Because at that moment, the stranger had pulled out an unsheathed dagger from underneath his jacket, the tip digging through his layers and through the skin of the redhead’s chest, ridiculously close to his heart. Yet, Eijirou didn’t move in the slightest. The man was slightly smaller in height, he seemed weakened. His hand trembled while holding the weapon and he wasn’t trying to push it deeper into the redhead’s flesh.

In a swift movement, Eijirou was able to grab his wrist, disarming the man. He looked at him through gritted teeth, only to be met with an equally fierce gaze. Ruby red eyes bore into his own crimson ones, destabilizing the redhead for less than a second. The man’s expression was full of anger and hatred, and Eijirou understood he was only in a position of weakness due to his wounds and exhaustion. His eyes fluttered slowly, anguish written all over his face once he realized such. It was obvious he was fighting to keep awake. But at this point, there was no use fighting any longer. His physical needs were taking over his mental battle.

And as Eijirou predicted, the man lost his remaining strength shortly after that conclusion. He fainted right before the redhead, body falling forward against him.

Chapter Text

Katsuki sat in a chair, in a candle-lit room, smelling of varnished wood and ancient books. The boy flexed his fingers, stared at the leather tightly tying his wrists onto the arms of the shiny chair. Marks would be left, but nothing that his white puffy shirts couldn’t hide. Not that it was necessary to hide, as if anyone could do anything against the King’s words and actions inside the cold walls of this castle. The sole reason behind the attempts in making the marks go unnoticed was related to the image his parents would send to their entourage, to their people. 

They were perfect. They had to be. The blond was no exception. The possibility of being imperfect was not envisageable. Not when the people’s trust in their Royalty was at stake. Even if their trust was based on a semblant. Therefore, all means necessary were taken. If Katsuki was a rebellious child, the rebellion had to go. As simple as that. And that applied to any traits that could endanger their credibility.

Today, the lesson was about their history, where Katsuki had to be irreproachable. He was the one and only heir to the Shouri throne. This subject had always been boring for the young boy.

Their origins were simple. Hundreds of years ago, his ancestors sailed through the ocean to this vast island, barely occupied by a few indigenous groups. They settled there, created a community, which evolved into a nation. A nation that took over the island and was later divided, over old beliefs. He had heard his father discussing the division, but apparently, Katsuki was too young to hear of it yet.

It was under scholar Nezu’s teaching that the small blond head had been learning. Tutoring lessons ranged from some fun to torture in instants. All it took was a wrong answer, or too long of a pause.

“Prince Bakugou… we have been over this topic for months. How can you still get plagued by doubt?” The small tutor mumbled under his short beard, nose perked up, as if sniffing for the perfect opportunity to strike. 

The older man held a burning candle in one of his wrinkled hands, resembling the skin of a dirty mole. Retirement was around the corner, but he had been summoned for the noble task of educating the young Bakugou, an irrefutable honor. His education was the most highly praised in the Kingdom, and sometimes Katuski wondered if the tales of his talents had been true at all.

“Eat shit.” Katsuki growled in frustration, hating the constant bashing. He knew everything- yet a single failure meant he was stupid as a rock? Even in a child’s mind, this did not make sense.

The slap came harder than the little blond expected. “Language.” Nezu reprimanded, approaching his desk, hovering behind the boy’s back. “So? What was the year that the Kingdom of Kaen declared its independence from ours?”

Katsuki wasn’t a loser, but… he couldn’t remember the answer. His silence was broken by a slight hiss. Looking down, his right forearm had droplets of hardening wax lingering all over. Katsuki didn’t dare raise his head, he knew Nezu’s hard and disapproving gaze would be looking down on him. He knew his tutor was bending his candle a bit, just so the clear melted drops would burn the boy, a punishment.

The prince took a deep breath, his eyes stung, but he fiercely shut them. He wasn’t a weak crybaby. He could handle anything. The old man’s candle just kept tilting more, and Katsuki greeted his teeth. It was painful, but… he deserved it. It was only the way to learn and become perfect. His right knee started bouncing, heart beating faster. It was just in his head. Pain didn’t exist, it was just in his head-

Then Nezu turned the candle upside down, extinguishing the flame on Katsuki’s arm. The boy startled with a choked gasp, biting his tongue to keep quiet. This time, the overflowing tears started their descent on his cheeks. Without another word, his tutor exited the room, leaving the young prince alone. Night had already fallen, and Katsuki could only guess he would spend those next hours of darkness attached to his chair. He deserved it, deep down he knew, but his anger was omnipresent in his thoughts.

Unfair, unfair, unfair, unfair-

“Prince Bakugou?”

The boy whipped his head around in the door’s direction upon hearing the subdued voice. Recognising the girl, he furiously turned back around. “Fuck off.” He grumbled in a forced low tone. He would never let someone see him cry. It was already humiliating enough to cry in front of Nezu or his parents.

Still, soft pads on the ground could be heard. The brown haired girl methodically untied Katsuki’s wrists, silent and acting unaware of his emotional state. “I said: Fuck off. You must obey the Prince, Cheeks.” The boy added, starting to feel beyond frustrated by the girl’s stubbornness. 

But she wouldn’t listen, her small chubby hands- hands of a child, like him- held his right wrist, observing the damage not only caused by the restraints, but the burns as well. “I must obey the King, not you.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed, although she hid a hint of worry.

“I can ask Father to kick you out of my castle-!” An empty threat, Ochaco knew.

“Then do it.” She shrugged, starting to clean the wax with a warm wet cloth. Katsuki didn’t know where she pulled it from. 

“I’ll do it!” The blond frowned in ire, brows furrowed.

Yet the girl that worked here as one of their youngest servants didn’t waver. She cleaned the Prince’s arm, cared for the red burn that she knew would leave a slight mark, then rubbed some ointment, that her mother probably made, on his bruising wrists. Katsuki didn’t have friends, he didn’t need them- but he tolerated Ochaco. Sometimes.

And even if he wanted to reject her care, he couldn’t. His limbs felt heavier than ever- like attached to the longest chains made out of the heaviest metals.

His lashes fluttered slightly. A small groan escaped his lips, mind still floating in and out of consciousness. This feeling steaming from lack of control quickly took over his thoughts, forcing his body to awaken in fright. All alarms rang inside his skull, screaming to himself that keeping on sleeping this way meant being in a state of deadly vulnerability.

“Shh… you’re okay.” A soft whisper came to his ears.

Chest moving at an anxious speed, the blond sluggishly attempted to rise up onto his forearms. The place he was laid on was incredibly uncomfortable. The overwhelming smell of hay could have made him snort in disgust if he had the strength to. Yet, if he had to compare it to the past few days- it almost felt adequate to the luxury of his parent’s castle. Although it was a ridiculous statement, in afterthought. 

Words so unfit of a King to become.

Katsuki didn’t care to open his eyes yet. It was as if his brain slowly commanded which senses to reactivate first. A warm cloth, a gentle voice, a bed of hay- his mouth was dry, he realized. The blond thought of how much he desired a fresh glass of water, or wine, the latter could very much help boost his system, he assumed. With that, came the thought of food, making his stomach rumble despite himself.

“Don’t worry, we’re warming up food-” A slender hand came to rest over his shoulder.

It was enough to send him off. His mind rewinded all the memories of the past few hours until… he passed out against a mountain of a man. To which this hand probably didn’t belong to. In a sluggish movement, he slapped the arm away, his opposite hand reaching for his dagger… that wasn’t where he usually left it. Eyes wide open now, he noticed neither were his pants. 

Panting, he looked down to his body, his chest was bare and patched up, a nasty cut he had neglected for days on his left side was even stitched up. His hazy eyes completely ignored the slight commotion beside him, simply falling upon his palms that he held up to observe. 

Quickly, the alarming bells turned into strident ringing in his ears. Katsuki’s head lolled a little from side to side, sat up on a bunch of hay that a cow seemed to be munching on. His eyes squinted at the stinky animal, assessing the potential danger, before he proceeded to a detailed analysis of himself. His hands were bandaged, his delicate skin had gotten too roughened up. The stitches were horrendous, the scar will turn ugly, he admitted to himself in great annoyance. On the bottom half of his body, only his braies remained, rolled up to access the few smaller wounds scattered over his legs. He wasn’t covered in dirt anymore, which meant his hosts bathed him.

Hosts?

He whipped his head around, his thin eyes glaring into wide red ones. Almond shaped and a vivid color- those weren’t the eyes he remembered… “I apologize!” The young woman frowned in what looked like embarrassment, keeping her hands in fists against her chest now.

“Why the fuck are you touching me?” Katsuki growled, words escaping his lips before he could even think. His tone was defensive, but somehow, it felt wrong to say them at that moment.

Her eyes widened even more, mouth parting slightly, as if calculating what to do next. And before she could say anything else, a man stepped in this garbage of a shed. Katsuki noticed her body relax, and naturally, his eyes followed the girl’s.

Tall and seemingly bulky, the man’s perfect shade of red hair tied with a purple ribbon swayed over his shoulders as he turned towards Katsuki and the girl. Unable to understand why suddenly his throat felt sore and unable to swallow anymore, the blond held his fierce gaze over the man, but the anger was flattering. His nose was beautifully straight, lips chapped from the cold. His eyes, the same intense red he remembered, pierced through his own from under his thick lashes. If Katsuki was a coward, he would have crawled back. 

This man was unreadable. The following short seconds didn’t leave nearly enough time for Katsuki to lose himself in rightful admiration over the redhead. He caught on some more details. Light freckles on tanned skin, what looked like a scar over one eyelid, ears decorated with golden jewelry. Though his aura wasn’t menacing, Katsuki couldn’t help but just stay put, and not enter offensive mode. Those people stole his weapons anyway…

“Everything okay, ‘Kumi?” The mountain asked the young woman, who was probably his sister, Katsuki concluded, unless big red eyes were a running genetics in this region. The blond observed a silent interaction between the siblings. She nodded, but her brother didn’t seem to be reassured by that answer. He turned his face, expression seeming neutral until a soft smile made its way on his lips. Damn it, even his smile made Katsuki overthink.

“It’s fine, Eijirou! He was having a nightmare-” Her soothing words made Katsuki’s face contort into disgust.

“The hell you talking about-”

But the tall redhead, Eijirou was his name- a pretty name, cut the blond instantly. “Don’t talk to her this way again.” He muttered calmly. The simplest of warnings.

Katsuki huffed, what a joke. “You have no idea who I am and this is my first impression of you. Let me tell you it’s pure shit.” He spat, weakly.

To his venomous words, Eijirou raised a brow. “Oh- you mean like when you tried to stab my sister, then me, as my first impression of you?” 

Katsuki, for once, kept his mouth shut. He was right. Ultimately, despite his distress, he tried to stab this stranger before he could even take a proper look at him. “I didn’t want to fucking stab the kid.” He groaned, annoyed by half of the assumption.

Eijirou rolled his eyes, finally entering the shed, a steaming bowl in his hands. He didn’t reply to Katsuki’s words so the blond just dropped the conversation. He never was one to waste energy in unnecessary talks, though sometimes he knew he could get pushed to speak more than he’d like. The tall man bent down, holding out the bowl of a horrifying mixture with a spoon. The prince, unsure of how edible this food was, frowned and looked away.

Suddenly, the atmosphere felt heavy on the blond’s shoulders, making them sink lower. It didn’t go unnoticed. Eijirou, as much as he felt the need to keep a tough attitude to keep this stranger in line, couldn’t help but feel his heart squeeze with the need to tend to the man. He shot Takumi a quick glance. Understanding, the girl left the shed, probably to wander off to take care of Etsumi or sew.

Eijirou knew it the second this man fell into his arms lifelessly. This would go wrong, sooner or later. He had seen the fancy clothing under the dirt and blood and he recognized the unusual fair hair for the region. The man’s jacket lacked the royal pin made of gold that the heads of the military harboured. This could be some sort of trap, a sick and twisted plan to steal his family, hurt his sisters and mother.

But those eyes, both wary and angry at the same time, reflected vulnerability, shielded behind powerful defense. This guy was on edge, but unable to act the way he wanted to, due to his wounded body. Eijirou didn’t know him, he didn’t know how he gathered such clothing, and had no idea how and why he got beaten up so badly. This blond man being the kidnapped Prince crossed his mind… but here? Deep inside Kurai’s forest? It sounded so unlikely, but there weren’t many other explanations.

“You should eat.” Eijirou hummed, nudging the bowl onto his lap this time.

Katsuki didn’t react. He kept his gaze low, staring at the steam evaporating. His eyes seemed suddenly distant, and somehow, Eijirou couldn’t help but frown at that. The blond had completely calmed down now. It looked as if he was calculating his next move, his next words. Anything he did or said could either allow him to escape to the safety of his castle, or trap him in this place, in the middle of nowhere, prone to any danger. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back any careless threat.

“Come on, Takumi is a great cook.” Eijirou smiled in an attempt to turn the atmosphere calmer.

The blond’s eyes settle back on him. Even if Katuski didn’t eat any of these people’s food to avoid potential poisoning, he couldn’t know if he wouldn’t be dead by tomorrow. He wasn’t sure of anything. He was lost. “Do you know who I am?” His voice rasped quietly, making Eijirou shiver with an unknown sensation.

The redhead didn’t need to give him an answer, the flash of seriousness flashing before his eyes was enough for Katuski to know. “So what now…” He huffed, playing with the wooden spoon in hand. “... You’re going to tie me up here and ask my family for some kind of ransom too?”

To Katuski’s surprise, Eijirou snorted with a soft smile. “Like that would work.” The blond rose one eyebrow and Eijirou continued. “Like that wouldn’t get me killed as soon as they got you back. I’m a commoner, but I’m not stupid. I know how this Kingdom works.”

Such words should have upset the Prince, set him in a noble rage and awakened the need to defend his name’s legacy, but deep down, he knew the man wasn’t wrong. His family would have fakely promised the money, soldiers traveling to this quiet forest to slaughter Eijirou and get Katuski back home. No one messed with the only heir to the throne. Still, the reminder was uncharacteristically bitter.

Suddenly, he wasn’t so hungry, not that this beige paste had tempted him anyway. “So what are you going to do?”

To that, Eijirou shrugged, flopping down to the ground. He pulled his knees up and leaned back on his palms in a relaxed position. Can’t he even pretend I’m a potential and intimidating threat? Katsuki’s ego stung. “I honestly don’t know. Didn’t think too deeply yet.” He admitted openly.

The blond squinted his eyes. This guy could never survive the tangled mess of this world. It was a miracle he was still alive with all the snakes lurking around. Or perhaps, his reality was biased by matters of the Kingdom. But surely, things weren’t so different out there, were they?

“Maybe you should start thinking.” Katsuki groaned, frustrated by the lack of action from the other.

Eijirou eyed him, intensely observing him silently. Katsuki was used to be stared at during parades and conferences. Eyes gawking and evaluating his clean appearance, his charisma and wealth. Here, he barely had decent clothes on, he had been hastily washed, body wounded and weakened, snapy mouth shut. He was nothing like the shiny and polished man he was at Shouri’s castle.

Here he was at Eijirou’s mercy, who seemed unable to look away. The redhead’s eyes traveled down, and Katsuki’s cheeks burned. Not unexpectedly. The second the blond had a clear view of this man’s figure and face, he knew the tingles in his body were not innocent. He was charming, but he was a random peasant. Far from of his rank. No one Katsuki could befriend, much less get involved with. His breath slowed down a bit, as if his body was catching onto his lying thoughts.

Eijirou’s red eyes didn’t linger though, as if trying to remain polite. The redhead bit his lip. Sharp teeth, Katsuki noticed. Soon enough, both men were making eye contact again. And this time, Katsuki couldn’t escape his abrasive personality. “Quit staring, you red porcupine!”

Eijirou frowned sheepishly, raising one hand to his unruly hair. “Man… that’s kind of rude. You shouldn’t call strangers names.”

“And you shouldn’t keep so fucking calm when you’re holding a Prince hostage with no plans-”

To that, he was immediately cut. “You’re not a hostage.” Eijirou’s eyes seemed to show confusion, maybe a tinge of hurt? It was strange, Katsuki normally wouldn’t care about that. “We tried to patch you up, so you could leave when you’re healed. You leave my family out of trouble, and we’ll do the same to you.” After some silence, he looked away. “They don’t know who you are.” His voice was quiet. “I didn’t tell them, although I recognised your clothing. So… even if they’re asked, they would never tell anyone you were here.”

“Would you?” Katsuki asked.

“Maybe.” Eijirou replied, head leveled. An honest admission. “I have to take care of them. You may be a Prince, but I don’t know you. I would never put you before them again.” Again? He wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but Katsuki nodded slowly. It was fair. Still, he couldn’t help getting the feeling that Eijirou’s words had more meanings. How did he recognize him so easily? Katsuki knew rumors were quick to spread. But this region was so remote from the capital, often the people living there didn’t even know the King’s first name.

“But once I leave, how can you be sure I won’t send my army after you?” Katsuki asked, in a neutral tone that left Eijirou slightly unsettled.

“I… I can’t.” He replied, almost unsure of his words. He looked at Katsuki, sitting up. The blond noticed his shoulders tense. That’s a threat to him. Katsuki smirked. If needed, this could be a way out. But his smirk quickly flattered when he felt the tension was back in the shed. With that one question, Katsuki was able to ruin the slightest of friendly connection they had. He opened his mouth, but he remained silent. 

Eijirou shook his head, he almost looked… disappointed. “Whatever… I would never let a man die when I could have saved him.” He sighed, memories flashing in his mind. “And it would be awfully unmanly for you to send after us, when all we did was help you.” 

Katsuki nodded, actually agreeing. Being born in such unbalanced wealth thankfully didn’t shape his character into one of a piece of shit, ridden of basic values. Still, he had to hold back a roll of his eyes to the word “unmanly”. 

“You can’t stay here.” Eijirou added.

“I know.”

“But they’re probably still searching for you. Did they outnumber you?”

It was an innocent question, but Katsuki looked away with gritted teeth. “Yeah.”

“You don’t seem like you fight so much-“

“What is that supposed to mean-“ Katsuki started, offended, but Eijirou quickly explained himself.

“Don’t get me wrong. You seem pretty strong, and I guess the Royal family would be a fool to not train their heirs, at least with some self-defense bases. But you definitely are unprepared for real fights.” Honest. Unknowingly, the truth, which just pissed off the blond. “And alone? You don’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t stand a chance. It’s a given.” Katsuki lied to himself, denying the past recent events, which made Eijirou slightly frown.

“Right…” The redhead sighed, his eyes wandering once again over the Prince’s weakened body. With some training, Eijirou had no doubts in the fighting potential the blond held. But right now, he had been battered, starved and dehydrated. He would need at least a few days of proper rest to recover, if not weeks. One more mouth to feed would take a toll on his family’s struggling finances. But abandoning him was not an option, especially at the beginning of winter. Eijirou wasn’t like that, nor was his family. He only hoped he’d find a way to compensate. 

And an idea suddenly came up. Red eyes locked into red. “What?” Katsuki barked.

“I’ll come with you.” Eijirou calmly stated. “I’ll dedicate my life to your safety during the trip. Bring you home.” A promise. “But if I’m putting my life on the line, I need something back.”

Bored, knowing where this conversation was going, Katsuki raised a brow. He was tempted to say he didn’t need some undergrad bodyguard, but the fact was that the blond was in bad shape, and in urgent need to return to the castle. Eijirou had called it his home, but the word seemed improper. So Katsuki’s gaze turned harsh. All pleasantry vanished. He knew the redhead wasn’t looking at him anymore, just looking at what he represented.

Corruption. Greed. Wealth.

“You want money.” 

A priceless opportunity for his family. Katsuki shivered from an uncomfortable breeze.

A nod.

***

A few days passed and winter peaked.

Katsuki wore a shapeless woolen coat, light snowflakes contrasting over the fabric as he walked into the small shed he woke up days ago. It was supposed to be some tiny barn, he knew now. He walked slow, calculating each step as they transitioned to the cushioned snow to the harsh dirt flooring. The gash on his side was deep, healing throughout a long process. The blond didn’t admit it, but it conditioned his movements significantly still. So much so, that the Kirishima family refused any offers of help with the most demanding tasks. He wasn’t incapable, but there was only so much a wounded man could do against four people.

This coat was slightly oversized, proof that it belonged to the older Kirishima sibling. Of course the idiot, whom he refused to use the first name, would try to accommodate royalty. He wants all the chances he can take to assure his family a comfortable life once all of this is over. Not an ounce of empathy, just fucking covetousness, Katsuki scoffed to himself, throwing a metallic bucket towards the cow, startling the poor animal.

The next day following his abrupt arrival, Katsuki watched Takumi convince her brother to wear their father’s coat, the one he used to wear before his mysterious disappearance. Kirishima showed so much resistance, but ended up resigning himself. Upon witnessing the incredibly depressing interaction, Katsuki quickly concluded the head of the family had died. 

The blond grunted to himself, staring at the pitiful cow before him as he sat on a wooden stool. She looked so emaciated to his standards, he doubted he could get any milk. He used the technique that the wild middle sister, Touka, taught him. Although the girl looked like a pain in the ass with an attitude, at least she wasn’t boring like Kirishima. He hated having to do this task, but the man never allowed him far out of the house, only until the barn. Despite their isolated home, the redhead told him about the road ahead being a common travel path, encountering many pilgrims all year long.

Best to avoid crossing yet another stranger’s path.

He hadn’t interacted that much with the family despite the manifested hospitality. He was respectful, but given his title, Katsuki would never allow himself to look or sound vulnerable. He doesn't need to make connections, soon he’ll be home. He doesn’t care about Kirishima, he just wants him to travel with him. Although that idea stirred anger within him, as if the word “weak” was tattooed on his forehead for everyone to know, he knew it was the intelligent and safest choice to make. He didn’t need to prove Kirishima anything. He was the Prince.

He had noticed how Kirishima’s eyes seemed to simultaneously avoid him and get captivated by him. Maybe the eyecatching blond hair, maybe the visible purple and green-ish bruises. A stupid excuse to stare either way, he thought. Or maybe he was intimidated by what Katsuki represented. A symbol of power. Or maybe… just maybe, his presence just shone in the way the fire in their foyer lit at night, untouchable and fierce. 

Wavering, too.

This thought made him clench his jaw. The pitiful eyes of the redhead made him sick. He hated to look at him, to observe him so much, but Katsuki had to prepare himself to anything possible. Any random wood cracks and any distant sound triggered a reaction from his body. He wasn’t the only one carrying this dooming awareness. He noticed Kirishima’s eyes would snap in the given directions, unmoving and with a short breath, sometimes.

They hadn’t talked much, but Katsuki could not care.

Once he was done milking the cow, the blond gathered the bucket, kicked the stool to a corner, and walked back towards the house without a hurry. He huffed when the milk threatened to spill as he took a stronger step into the squeaky snow. His annoyance only came to a halt when he identified a squeak that wasn’t his. Looking behind his shoulder, red hair caught his attention behind a few large trees.

Kirishima walked, slow but steady, two small bunnies attached to his belt, dangling with each step he took. His shoulders were discouragingly hunched, testimony of a strenuous hunting afternoon that hadn’t been successful. Despite not caring about the redhead’s whereabouts, Katsuki couldn’t help frown to himself watching Kirishima so… defeated. That look didn’t suit him.

As his breathing made the cold air fume, the redhead lifted his gaze towards Katsuki. The blond couldn’t decipher the kind of look he was given. He stood there while the other approached. Katsuki was never one to start a conversation. The redhead on the other hand… “You should be inside.”

Katsuki’s lips tugged into a bored smirk. “Yes. Because I’ll surely freeze to death by getting some milk.” He let the bucket slide down to the ground, hiding the tinge of pain shooting across his ribs. “Which, by the way, you asked me to do.” He crossed his arms.

Eijirou stopped, sighing softly, visibly tired. “No. I just asked you to participate in household tasks.”

“Same thing.”

Then, to Katsuki’s surprise, the redhead let out a comforting sound. A quiet chuckle. “I mean, I expected a Prince to be stubborn. But not that.” He gestured towards the blond.

Katsuki’s red cheeks and nose matched Eijirou’s, though his own were due to different reasons than the cold. “I don’t know what you’re implying. I’ve been a fucking saint up to now.” He scoffed, forcing his body to relax when the other’s eyes wandered over it briefly before returning to his red eyes. 

“Sure thing.” Kirishima shrugged, with a stupid smile on his face. It was as if the other was enjoying this irrelevant interaction. As if he cared for a good time, apart from the money he has to gain. Katsuki knew this was a subtle strategy. The better they get along, the more the other would expect to receive back. Despite this belief, something tugged at his heart, the small doubt that maybe the other was genuine. “You’ve been so mellow. Muttering insults against your scratchy new clothes, scowling at Etsumi whenever she approaches you and avoiding me like the plague.”

For a split second, Katsuki’s eyes widened. “I don’t scowl at Etsumi-” He quickly muttered, his brain still processing how naturally the other pointed out his avoidance.

“So you’ve been avoiding me.”

“No.” He answered too quickly.

“Do all the powerful people lie that easy?” Eijirou asked boldly, taking the blond aback.

He was offended, but he knew the sentiment only came from the truth. Katsuki furrowed his brows, staring quietly at the other. Eijirou moved, taking heavy steps towards the barn. Seriously, it looked more like a shed, to Katsuki. Without much thought, Katsuki grabbed the bucket again and followed him. Once inside, the redhead hung the lifeless bunnies onto one of the many hooks hammered into the beams. He removed his heavy cover, arms stretching and back moving. He wasn’t facing Katuki anymore.

“You’re right. Been avoiding you.” Katsuki spoke, against his pride. He wasn’t exactly sure why.

Eijirou didn’t turn around. He pulled a bruised apple out of his pocket, holding it out on his palm for his cow to grab. “I know.” He gave him a short glance before focusing back on the animal. “Look, I get it. All that happened to you is so, so far from your… normal life. I’m sorry it happened.”

Was he… trying to get personal?

Katsuki frowned, the shed feeling colder than ever suddenly. “You have no idea about whatever happened, nor whatever my normal life is.” He spat. Kirishima fully turned towards him, a remorseful expression crossing his face.

“I didn’t mean to-” And before Katsuki could spit out something regretful, Kirishima quickly kept talking. “I’m sorry. I swear. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He sounded sincere. Which… was strange for Katsuki. He couldn’t allow himself to get fooled. The blond kept a cold stare towards the redhead, whose shoulders hunched forward a bit. Kirishima didn’t look ashamed, more so less intimidating. Perhaps, that had been his subconscious goal. Returning his gaze to the cow and petting her softly, the man’s gravely but soothing voice could be heard again. “I bet those daily tasks are boring as hell compared to what you usually do back at Shouri?” He hummed.

Katsuki let the silence answer first. This was an opening for more exploration. This was a change from the subject of his hostage situation. He should ignore him. Get the fucking milk and go back inside the house. But something unknown anchored his feet to the ground there. 

Wetting his lips, almost anxiety filled, the blond attempted an answer. “Definitely.” He answered, his tone lacking any bitterness. “Although I recognize the necessity of your daily activities, what I used to engage in was much more enriching.” Somehow, it felt unfair to sputter those words, but Katsuki wanted nothing more than to be honest. Even if that required his barriers to temporally fall down. “Swords and riding, history and strategy courses,... and, obviously, I already take care of certain diplomatic and administrative affairs.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Doesn’t sound that fun.” Kirishima snorted with sincerity, but still impressed. Although Katsuki had to fake annoyance at his comment, he knew it wasn’t too far from the truth. *What about leisure time?”

“You think a Prince has time for leisure?” The blond scoffed,

“I especially think a Prince has time for leisure.” Kirishima retorted back, unphased.

Katsuki had to bite back his snappy words. As much as he wanted to argue back, Kirishima’s words didn’t sound unsupported. The redhead had no idea what kind of pressure fell upon Katsuki’s shoulders regularly. But on the other hand, Katsuki wasn’t that sure that he knew his people’s way of living anymore. If the common life looked anything like Kirishima’s, the smart thing would be to remain shut. Therefore, he’d let this one slide. 

“I don’t.” He scoffed softly, arms crossed defiantly. “If anything, my free time is spent on perfecting my sword skills and expanding my already advanced knowledge in the library.”

Kirishima chuckled. If anything, this definitely sounded like fancy leisure to him. But the redhead knew better than to fight definitions. All he really wanted was to satisfy some of the curiosity that had been burning in his chest through the cold, for days now. “Do you have a library?”

Katsuki raised a brow in boredom. “Of fucking course, Shitty Hair.” He grumbled. “I’m the Prince, remember?”

Kirishima rolled his eyes with a soft chuckle, ignoring the absurd call out. “I know. Can’t a guy ask?” He paused. “So… you like to read?”

“Yes.” Katsuki replied, visibly bored by the conversation, but deep down easing into it.

“When I was… out of town-“ Kirishima started, mouth dry for a moment before focusing back on the topic. “- I made a friend, Tetsutetsu. Taught me how to read and even lended me his book to read. I struggle a bit still, but I manage.” He hummed quietly, looking at Katsuki for a few seconds, fearing judgement. To his surprise, the blond’s red eyes remained neutral, attentive. With a nervous gulp, the redhead selected the memories from his time at camp that he’d accept remembering, not wanting to trigger any unnecessary behaviours during such a casual conversation. “I don’t remember the title, but it was about the travels and adventures of a Knight, before the Bakugous took over the crown, a few centuries ago. I remember one particular chapter where he talked about his crossing of the mountains between Shouri and Kaen, describing all the strange and beautiful elements he found. Very difficult journey, but he was pretty manly about it.” Kirishima smiled about it. “I’m not sure about his name anymore though…”

“Sir Crimson.” Katsuki said, eyes scanning over the redhead, a strange curiosity illuminating his face. “Memoir of a Riotous Knight.”

“You know it!” Kirishima grinned, spiky teeth showing.

“Father wanted to banish it. Said would give people the wrong ideas.” Katsuki hummed, watching the colors slowly disappearing from the other’s face. “I advised against it though. Could be seen as a threat to our people’s freedom, and there’s nothing more revolting than senseless prohibitions.” He explained, detached.

Kirishima frowned lightly, the light atmosphere slowly gaining weight. “You keep saying ‘your’ people. Doesn’t it sound wrong to you?” The nervous hint in his voice was almost unnoticeable.

Tension broke.

Katsuki squinted his eyes. It was like the first time they saw each other all over again. They exchanged defiant looks, each man standing for himself. But this time, Kirishima was the one holding an imaginary dagger, digging into Katsuki’s chest. “No.” He replied, colder than the snow. “The crown fights and kills to protect the Kingdom’s citizens. I hope you are not implying something different, Kirishima.” The blond breathed through his nose. “They are our people. You are my people.”

Eijirou’s eyes briefly shone at Katsuki’s last words. His internalized anger was quick to break the spell. He scoffed bitterly. “You must be blinded by all the treasures you got back in your castle. Who fights, Bakugou?” He asked, demanding an answer, using his name. “Who kills? Who dies for the sake of a false protection? Who are you trying to protect us from? The tension your family creates with Kaen out of pure, selfish greed?”

Katsuki gritted his teeth. Kirishima had no fucking idea what he was talking about. “Oh you wanna talk about greed? How about we talk about the only reason you accepted to escort me was the money promised at the end?” He took a threatening step towards the other, stopping right in front of him, chin held up high, shoulders broad and fists clenched.

Kirishima’s eyelids flicked for a second, a quiet gasp escaping his lips, the unexpected close distance catching him off guard. Katuski was so close. Barely taller than the blond, Eijirou had to look lower to meet the other’s fury eyes. It wasn’t his fault the other’s lips caught his gaze for a moment. His chest heaved with the slow and controlled breaths he took. His harsh expression, his controlled aggression. The blond held such familiarity for anger. He reached out to it with such ease. If Eijirou leaned closer, he knew their faces would touch..

How unfortunate it had to be for this man to ignite his own fire in his chest, right in the middle of a moral argument. 

“You’re right.” Kirishima breathed out slowly. Katsuki blinked, uncontrolled fury squeezing his throat. “I understand you see it that way. But you need to understand…” He carried on.

That’s when the redhead leaned closer, apparently composed. Katsuki’s anger came to a sudden halt. His body remained furious, but tensed so much more. His eyes looked at the other’s defined face, then his chapped lips. It lasted an instant, his heart calling out to feel the other’s emanating warmth and his brain short circuiting with the non incomprehensible scene displaying before him.

Before Katsuki could run a detailed mental analysis of this new behavioural pattern, Kirishima leaned even closer, straight nose almost brushing against his ear. The man’s breath gave him goosebumps. 

“My ‘greed’, as you call it, isn’t driven by a wish, but a need.” Kirishima whispered.

And Katsuki closed his eyes, his own short breaths escaping him out of frustration. A matter of survival. 

How fucking stupid.

Kirishima’s words don’t only make sense to him.

What Katsuki felt wasn’t a mere wish, but a turned visceral need, too.