Chapter Text
The next day at training was awkward as hell.
Osora avoided Arias like the plague, his eyes constantly darting away whenever their gazes threatened to meet. His punches were off—slower, less focused, lacking that fiery precision he usually had. It didn’t go unnoticed either. The others cast glances between the two of them, sensing something unspoken crackling under the surface.
Arias said nothing during drills, but he watched. Quietly. Carefully. And when training finally wrapped up, he didn’t waste a second.
He spotted Osora sitting alone on the bench in the corner, towel hanging around his neck, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the ground like it held all the answers. His entire posture screamed defeat.
“Sora?” Arias tried gently, using the nickname from the day before like a soft offering. His tone was careful, like he didn’t want to scare him off.
Osora didn’t respond. He didn’t even flinch. His eyes remained locked on the floor, jaw tight. The silence was thick—almost louder than words.
Arias approached anyway, standing beside him. He didn’t sit. Not yet. He could feel the weight coming off Osora like steam, and he didn’t want to crowd him. But he also wasn’t leaving.
Minutes passed.
“Go away, Arias.” Osora said at last, his voice flat, clipped, like a door being shut.
“No,” Arias answered, simple and firm.
Osora’s head snapped up, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Go. Away.”
“I’m not leaving until we talk.”
Osora scoffed and turned his head again with a harsh exhale. “There’s nothing to talk about, moron. Just leave me alone,” he muttered, but his voice cracked ever so slightly near the end.
Arias didn’t flinch. He didn’t push. He just crouched down slowly, bringing himself to Osora’s eye level.
“Please, Sora,” he said, softer now. There was something in his voice that made Osora’s chest ache. “I’m worried about you. What’s going on?”
It was that gentle voice—the one that always seemed to unravel him without even trying. Osora bit the inside of his cheek, wrestling with himself, his emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. He knew Arias wouldn’t leave so he caved.
“I—” he started, then stopped. Words jammed in his throat. He exhaled shakily.
Arias waited. He didn’t say anything. He just stayed there, eyes calm and patient like he had all the time in the world.
After a pause that felt like hours, Osora finally spoke.
“I just feel… suffocated,” he mumbled, barely above a whisper. “I can’t go anywhere alone anymore. There’s always someone watching, following, asking something from me. I’m tired of it.”
His voice was trembling now. “It’s like… I don’t belong to myself anymore.”
Arias’s heart twisted. He slowly sat beside him and, without asking, wrapped an arm around Osora’s shoulder. The contact was warm, grounding.
Osora stiffened for a moment, caught off guard—but didn’t pull away.
The comfort seeped into his bones, and it took everything in him not to fall apart again. He blinked quickly, forcing back the tears that threatened to rise. There were still a few stragglers in the training hall, and the last thing he wanted was to cry again in front of anyone.
Still, the gesture meant more than he could say.
“…Thanks,” he mumbled, barely audible, like the word weighed too much to say properly.
Arias smiled a little, his tone playful but affectionate. “What was that, your highness?~”
Osora shot him a flustered look, the tips of his ears going pink. “N-nothing, you idiot,” he muttered, cheeks warming with embarrassment.
Arias just chuckled, keeping his arm around him. He didn’t need Osora to say anything else. The fact that he hadn’t pulled away was enough.
“You’re welcome, Osora,” Arias said softly, his grin turning gentle.
Osora huffed and looked away, but his lips twitched like they were fighting a smile. And though he wouldn’t admit it, a part of him was grateful—deeply, painfully grateful—that Arias hadn’t left him alone on that bench.