Chapter Text
Chigiri made his way down the marble steps, his dress trailing behind him as he stepped into the courtyard where the knights had gathered.
Kunigami stood slightly apart from the other knights, his posture relaxed but his presence commanding as always. The dim evening light cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the quiet strength in his expression. When he noticed Chigiri approaching, he turned fully toward him, his amber eyes warm with familiarity.
For a moment, they just looked at each other.
Then, Kunigami gave him the smallest of smiles.
Chigiri let out a breath and chuckled. He jerked his head toward the side gate leading to the gardens. “Walk with me?”
Kunigami nodded, falling into step beside him as they made their way toward the secluded path.
The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers. The garden was quiet save for the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the soft crunch of their footsteps on the stone path.
This was the place where it had all started—the place where Chigiri had taken his first steps toward freedom. Back then, he had run toward the unknown with nothing but desperation. And now, here he was, standing beside the person who had taken him away.
They lingered near the hedge wall, neither speaking right away.
Chigiri stole a glance at Kunigami, catching him staring. He raised a brow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “What? Do I look ridiculous in this?” He gestured vaguely at the elaborate gown he was wrapped in—layers of delicate embroidery, heavy fabric, jewels sewn into the bodice. “You can be honest. I probably do.”
Kunigami’s expression didn’t waver. His gaze remained steady as he answered, his voice low but certain.
“You’re beautiful.”
Chigiri blinked. The teasing remark he was about to fire back died on his tongue.
Chigiri felt heat creep up his neck, and he looked away, suddenly very aware of the way his heart was beating a little too fast.
“You’re so blunt,” he muttered, hoping his tone masked the flustered feeling settling in his chest.
Kunigami just chuckled softly. “You asked.”
His expression then shifted, the lightness from before fading into something more solemn. He exhaled, his shoulders tensing slightly as he turned to face Chigiri fully.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I should’ve done more. I should’ve protected you better. If I had, you wouldn’t have been brought back here.”
Chigiri blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in Kunigami’s words. For all his strength, for all the things he had done, Kunigami still carried the weight of what had happened as if it were his failure.
Chigiri shook his head, a small, almost wistful smile forming on his lips. “Don’t apologize.”
Kunigami frowned slightly, but Chigiri continued before he could argue.
“I never really expected to get away forever,” he admitted. “Deep down, I always knew I’d be brought back eventually.” His fingers idly traced the embroidery of his gown. “But those days outside... those days with you—they were more than I could have ever asked for.”
Kunigami’s eyes softened.
“I got to be free, even if it was just for a moment.” Chigiri let out a quiet laugh, though it lacked amusement. “So don’t blame yourself. If anything... I should be thanking you.”
Kunigami didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t push back. He studied Chigiri for a long moment, then sighed, raking a hand through his hair.
“You’re too damn calm about all of this,” he muttered.
Chigiri smirked. “What, did you expect me to be crying in your arms?”
Kunigami scoffed, but his lips twitched slightly. “Would’ve been nice for my ego.”
Chigiri chuckled, shaking his head. “Not happening.”
“Why did you even participate in the knight selection?” he asked, crossing his arms. “You hate the royal family. You hate this place.”
Kunigami glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Chigiri raised a brow, waiting for his answer.
Kunigami took a step closer, lowering his voice as he leaned in just enough to make Chigiri uneasy. “To kidnap the princess, of course.”
Chigiri blinked, stunned. “You’re—what?”
Before he could fully register what was happening, Kunigami grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him forward. “No time for questions,” he said as he hoisted Chigiri up, moving swiftly toward the hedge wall.
“What—Kunigami, what are you doing?!” Chigiri hissed, scrambling in his grasp.
Kunigami barely spared him a glance. “Hold on tight.”
As they reached the hedge wall, Chigiri struggled against Kunigami’s iron grip. “Are you insane?!”
Kunigami huffed, adjusting his hold on Chigiri as he prepared to climb. “Stop moving. Save your strength. You’re gonna have to run too once we’re over the castle walls.”
Chigiri barely had time to argue before Kunigami scaled the hedge with ease, lifting him over in one fluid motion. His breath hitched as they landed on the other side, his heart hammering in his chest.
But before he could say another word, he risked a glance back, and his stomach dropped.
Soldiers were already gathering, their weapons glinting in the fading light.
And standing at the top of the castle steps was the king, his father, looking absolutely furious.
But beside him, the queen stood silent. She didn’t yell, didn’t demand the soldiers to stop them.
She just watched.
And when her eyes met Chigiri’s, she smiled.
As soon as they landed on the other side of the castle walls, Kunigami let go of Chigiri, barely sparing him a glance before barking, “Run.”
Chigiri staggered slightly but didn’t hesitate. He gathered up the heavy fabric of his dress and bolted forward, his heart pounding with exhilaration.
And then—he laughed.
It bubbled up before he could stop it, light and breathless, carried by the cool night air. He was running through the open fields, the elaborate gown trailing behind him, the jewels on his sleeves catching the moonlight.
And somehow, even dressed like this—he was still faster than Kunigami.
Kunigami cursed behind him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Chigiri turned his head just enough to smirk. “What’s wrong, knight? Too slow?”
Kunigami huffed, pushing himself harder, but Chigiri was already pulling ahead, his laughter echoing in the night.
Even now, even like this—he was free.