Chapter Text
“We offer our thanks our gracious Gods for our food that adorns our table,” Mikoto murmurs softly, eyes closed and hands linked with Ryoma and Hinoka on either side of her. “Let our gratitude reach their ears, and we pray for our strength in the coming days, and for their divine protection.”
As soon as the prayer is finished and Mikoto releases their hands, Hinoka claps her hands together, a wide grin beset her lips. “Now, let’s dig in!”
“Hungry, dear?” Mikoto chuckles, already handing her a plate. “I imagine you are, after your drills today.”
She nods fervently. "The new recruits are really something else. I think it'll take weeks to whip them into shape!"
Corrin seems to absently pick at her fish. Hinoka nudges her, and she blinks, startled, before giving a weak chuckle and begins to eat.
Takumi almost chokes when Ryoma then reaches for the sliced fish, of which Hinoka has already stolen almost a third of. “Hey!” He pipes, setting down his bowl. “Let me have some, at least!”
“Calm yourself, Takumi. I won’t eat all of it,” His brother chuckles heartily. “However, I cannot say the same for Leo.”
“Uh huh, you better not pass it to him when you’re finished.” Takumi huffs, plucking up a few slices for his own plate. “You all hogged it last night, and I hardly got any of it!”
“Don’t be so slow, then.” Hinoka says around a mouthful of rice, and before he can react, snatches a piece of fish from his plate with her chopsticks.
“Hinoka, you thief!” Takumi lunges for his sister, and steals a bite of pork belly from her plate and pops it into his mouth before she can take it back.
"Hey!"
"You did it first!"
The conversation goes on. Mikoto asks each of her children about their day with a smile; Ryoma sighs and reports that he is training diligently, as always. Corrin had taken a trip to the dungeons for a ‘security check’, which had earned more than a few quirked eyebrows. Takumi himself had sparred with Hinata, then he and Sakura accompanied Mozu to the kitchen to check on her complaints regarding missing fish and meat cuts.
When Leo was prompted, he didn’t answer.
“Leo, dear?” Mikoto laid down her chopsticks. “Are you quite alright?”
Takumi’s brows furrowed. Beside him, Leo was rigid, his hands pressed firmly into his lap. His plate was empty. Upon the further questioning, he hesitates before turning his vacant gaze onto Mikoto, his lips pursed in a frown.
“...Oh, my apologies.” He finally speaks, his voice quieter than usual. “I did not mean to worry you. I am alright.” Leo musters a small smile, and Mikoto returns it.
“That’s wonderful to hear.”
He nods, slowly, and then his absent stare fixates back on the empty plate in front of him, save for his bowl of soup and rice dish. Takumi, sitting directly beside him as he is, can see that his jaw is tight. His expression is neutral, hollow, even, almost as if there is no life looking out from those onyx eyes of his.
Dinner continues, despite the hiccup. Takumi keeps an eye on him, and notes than not once does he reach for a different plate. Occasionally he will eat a mouthful of rice or take a sip of soup when he notices Sakura’s worried stare, but other than that he stays silent and unmoving. To be frank, it’s unnerving, seeing him like this. Normally he’s a step behind Hinoka, at meals. Eager to devour whatever he can shovel onto his plate, especially of late. He wished that at least he would talk, perhaps then he wouldn’t be so worried. But he says nothing, just stares at the table absently, hands forming fists in his lap. The conversation flows around him, as if avoiding prodding at him again. Training is discussed, past battles, fond memories.
Takumi downs his soup, wiping his face with his sleeve once he sets his bowl back on the table. He watches Leo for a moment longer, no longer attempting to be subtle in his observations; Leo still fails to notice him, anyways.
Then, gingerly, he lifts a hand and places it on Leo’s back, between his shoulderblades - and it feels like he’s just laid his hand on a rock. Leo blinks, but otherwise spares him none of his attention, gives him no reaction.
Still in disbelief that he’s actually doing this, Takumi begins to run his hand up and down, slowly, watching him intently for any negative feedback. And still, Leo doesn’t even look at him. At the very least he hasn’t swatted his hand away, like he feared he might. Given the past couple of days, he was even surprised that he didn’t turn around and smack him for touching him so unexpectedly. But... he was allowing him, and that's all he needed.
To say that this was the first time he’s noticed Leo being on edge lately would be a lie. Leo has hardly even spoken to him, ever since that night when he had sobbed into his arms, wordless even then. It’s as if Leo no longer wanted anything to do with him; while before he would have welcomed his presence accompanying him to the library, the training yard, the gardens, now he just glares at him and, if he’s lucky, mutters ‘please, leave me alone.’
It breaks his fucking heart.
Hinoka has stopped messing around with him, stopped treating him like another little brother like she had so gladly done so in the past. Ryoma still offers him a kind smile, but doesn’t make jokes with him anymore. Corrin worries after him, especially after Takumi had snapped at her, ‘He heard us, you know? Now he’s bent on leaving!’ Her guilt does little to help the situation, but he supposes that at least she’s showing remorse instead of using this to prove her point.
Takumi moves his hand in circles, now, gently rubbing his back, trying to relieve at least some of that tension simmering under his skin. His hand drifts, fingertips gliding over the fabric of his tunic. He can’t tell if his touch is making it better or worse, and he’s pretty sure that if it were making it worse, Leo wouldn’t be accepting it like he was, so he continues.
His hand strays to his side, eyes narrowing as he inevitably feels the ribs that jut out too much for his liking. He’s still so skinny, after all these weeks of steady eating, still so bony. It’s as if he’s hardly changed from when he first found him, on the brink of death in the forest. His skin lacks the sun’s touch, still as pale as a ghost; it almost seems to glow in certain light, like the moon. He still lacks energy, he lacks strength. He is feeble, and despite their efforts, his condition only seems to be growing worse. And now that he’s rejecting even food , Takumi cannot help the dread twisting through his gut.
He’s considering drawing away when he feels something move, under his hand. Takumi freezes, his hand placed against his ribs. He can’t move his hand away, stuck there by dread and morbid fascination. There, right beneath his fingertips, there is undulating beneath Leo’s skin, a foreign movement that almost seems to burrow deeper between his ribs, squirming its way further away from his touch.
It feels alive.
Shocked, Takumi suddenly jerks his hand back, holding it close to him as if he were burned.
Leo looks even paler than usual, and his once absent stare, fixated on the table, is now intense, scalding. He glares down at his plate, hands curled so tightly into fists that his knuckles have turned stark white, and he’s shaking.
And just as he’s about to say something, to ask him a combination of are you alright and what the fuck, the trembling ceases, and Leo straightens, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
He turns his head to meet Takumi’s bewildered gaze, color barely beginning to return to his cheeks. As if his mind has finally decided to occupy his body.
“What was that?” Takumi hisses, careful to keep his voice down. No one else, save for Sakura, has noticed their strange interaction.
“I’m fine.” Leo says firmly, and for the first time during the entire dinner, reaches for another plate and begins serving himself food, however late.
“Leo.” Takumi growls as he storms after him into his room, sliding the door shut behind him. “Leo, we need to talk. Right now.”
“Do we?” Leo rolls his eyes as he situates himself on his bed. Takumi comes to stand in front of him, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Leo watches him, unimpressed. “Isn’t it frowned upon to barge into one’s room, unannounced?”
“Don’t you play coy with me,” Takumi snaps, pointing an accusing finger at him. “We both know something's wrong with you."
Leo sighs. "Can't I just lay down without you shouting in my face?"
Takumi fumes, “No! Because you don't talk to me!”
“Maybe because you shout at me.”
“I said,” He moves so close that he’s practically standing between Leo’s legs, and finally, Leo loses that smug expression, watching him intently. “Don’t play coy with me. You and I both felt it, whatever it was. Right here,” He points to Leo’s side, specifically his wound.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Leo begins, his words clipped.
“But it hurts, doesn’t it?” Takumi pulls away, now that he doesn’t have to loom over him to get him to cooperate. “You barely said a word at dinner.”
“Yes, of course it hurts.” He scoffs. “But I can handle it on my own.”
Takumi drops to a knee in front of him. “How much does it hurt? How bad is it?”
Leo gives him a bewildered look before his eyes narrow. “Did you not just hear me? I said I can handle -”
“Yes, I heard you!” Takumi huffs, exasperated. “But you don’t have to handle it by yourself, prick!”
“Why are you doing this?” Leo glares down at him. “Have I not made my feelings towards you clear?”
“What, that you hate me?” Takumi returns it. “I don’t believe you.”
This catches Leo off guard, apparently, because his eyes widen and he sputters, “Why - why not?”
“You’ve been acting this way ever - ever since I told you that I would help you find your family. I don’t understand why you’re behaving the way you are, but I know that you don’t despise me like you claim to.” Takumi has taken one of his hands, as if afraid if he didn’t hold onto him that he would flee. “I don’t understand why you won’t just let me help you? What happened to us, Leo?”
“Because you can’t help me.” Leo growls.
Takumi’s glare vanishes. “What?”
“ I don’t understand why you insist on doing so.” He sneers. “I tell Sakura to leave me in peace, and she does. I ignore Ryoma and Hinoka, and they ignore me in return. I ignore you, I tell you to leave me alone,” Leo sweeps his free arm towards his door. “And you follow me, you practically hold me at dinner, and you barge into my room, kneel at my feet and coddle me like a child!”
“I can help you! What makes you think I can’t?” Takumi’s face burns, and he does his best to ignore it. The way Leo puts it, he now feels like a hovering mother.
“By the time this war ends,” Leo lowers his voice. “You and I will have separated, and you will never see me again.”
At this, Takumi is stunned into silence. Leo’s eyes are hard as he glowers down at him, his lips pursed tightly together.
“What…” He finally whispers, afraid to speak too loud, let his voice breaks. “What are you talking about?”
“There is no plainer way to say it.” Leo hisses. “You and I cannot be friends. Not ever. Certainly not now. Not in the midst of this war.”
His grip on Leo’s wrist falls limp, and Leo draws his hand back.
“There is nothing plain about this.” Growls Takumi, rising to his feet. His heart remains in his stomach, a sting behind his eyes. “Why is it that you deem we can’t even be friends? Because I’m a prince?”
Leo averts his eyes. “You are of Hoshido, and I am not. You are a prince,” His hand moves up his right arm, gripping his sleeve tightly. “And I'm not.”
“That doesn’t matter!” Takumi blurts, his hands forming fists at his sides. “After all I’ve done for you, after -” He swallows the growing lump in his throat. “After all our time together, you would throw that all away? Just because I’m royalty?!”
“We just can't be!”
“Bullshit.” He snarls. “That’s bullshit. ”
Leo draws in a trembling breath.
“You would never understand.” He mutters, his voice small. “The sooner I leave, the better.”
“I can’t understand if you refuse to talk to me!” Takumi throws his arms up in exasperation, bringing his hands back down to run through his hair. “You’re keeping everything to yourself, and then blaming me when I can’t read your mind! Of course, I don’t understand!”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Leo says coldly.
His nails dig into his scalp. “Oh, and I should have just left you to die when I found you out there, too? Is it so wrong of me to care about you?!”
“I don’t need you to care about me!” Leo stands, suddenly, gesturing forcefully towards the door. “Just get out!"
Takumi’s head is swimming. “Fine. Fine. I’ll leave you alone. We can forget all about being friends, just like you wanted!”
“Just go, Takumi!”
As he wished, Takumi whirls on his heel, storming towards the door. His stomach feels as if its tying itself in knots as he practically rips the door open, sliding it shut with excessive force behind him.
The second he’s in the hallway, he rakes in a shuddering breath. The sting behind his eyes is biting, impossible to ignore. Takumi tries to hold his tears back, his face hot as he takes up a brisk pace down the corridor.
His heart feels as if there’s a knife stuck through it. Everything he thought he had, everything he wished he had with him, with Leo - it was all gone. He had cradled Leo in his arms, his family had nursed him, protected him, he had rescued him, but none of that mattered. Not to Leo. It had crumbled apart and he had done everything he could to stop it, to hold it together, but Leo didn’t care.
Every handhold, every prolonged stare, every embrace. What happened?
Leo falls back onto the bed, his knees weak. With each quivering breath he draws, the twisting, burning sensation in his ribs grows. He holds his head in his hands, his thin frame trembling with the choked sobs forcing their way out of his throat.
It’s for the best. It’s for the best, the mantra he repeated did little to ease him. He tries to convince himself that what he’s just done is a victory, a success. Despite what he’s telling himself, he knows that it isn’t. Not truly.
Never before had he so desperately wished for someone to hate him. If Takumi hated him, everything would be so much easier. There would be no tender friendship, no fluttering heart, no reddened ears or stuttered speech. There would be no more ridiculous hand holding, a human practice that somehow managed to both confuse him and warm his cheeks. No more concerned stares, no comforting hands on his back, his shoulders. No desire to crawl in bed with him at night, finally growing sick of sleeping alone in these stupidly soft human beds.
If Takumi hated him, he would never have to question his own loyalty. He would never want to vomit from the guilt, the guilt of daring to think ill of his father, of his family. He would never have to consider that perhaps, just perhaps, Father is wrong. That this entire war is wrong, founded on flimsy pretenses.
It was not worth the burned villages, the orphaned children, the sobbing parents. It wasn’t worth a battlefield littered with the dead, both dragon and human.
But there was nothing he could do about it. Father’s word was law.
Leo can’t decide, for the life of him, if his change in heart is a weakness of loyalty, a betrayal, or if its simply the result of looking at their world through another lense. These humans really had no idea what they had done to incur his father’s rage; all they knew was that they were in danger. That the dragons must be killed on sight, for the sake of their wives, their husbands, their children.
Through his time with the royal family of Hoshido, that is what he had learned. Princess Hinoka didn’t drill relentlessly to earn herself the title of a ruthless dragonslayer; she did it to protect her family. Prince Ryoma and Princess Corrin were chosen by the swords of legend to defend their people, to defend their kingdom.
Queen Mikoto was not heartless, nor was she a killer. Princess Sakura was not a coward. And Prince Takumi… to Leo, he was the bravest of them all. He had only faced him on the battlefield once, but it told him all he needed to know.
Takumi didn’t just give orders; he fought like an animal alongside his soldiers. As much as his retainers had his back, he had theirs. He and Corrin lead their warriors with golden swords and brilliant arrows. Leo wished he could say the same for himself. The humans, they protected each other. They were united. He had seen their synergy with his own eyes.
He wishes he didn’t know them. He wishes they were still just faces with names to him, people to deceive and manipulate and nothing more.
Leo should hate Takumi. Takumi, by his station alone, was by all logic his sworn enemy. He was a hot headed fool, the son of a bitch who shot him with that damned arrow that was still festering in his side, burrowing deeper into him and eating away at his flesh. Hell, he should despise him for what he did to him, for how he crippled him, made him useless to both himself and his family. What good was he to Father is he couldn’t even take back his true form?
Another sob racks him, and he bends forward, tears dripping down his chin and into his lap.
Leo could never hate him. He didn’t want to. He didn’t ever want to hurt him, either. He never wanted to stand opposite him on a battlefield. He’d rather get struck between the eyes with another heavenly arrow. Because Takumi wasn’t just hot headed, he wasn’t just haughty, he wasn’t just a prince. He was gentle, caring, protective, he was kind. His bow, his Fujin Yumi, he didn’t treat it like a tool to slaughter the dragons with. To him, it was his means to protect all he loved. To think, that once Leo had hoped that included him, as well.
He bites down on his knuckles to quiet his pathetic weeping. He wishes he could’ve just taken Takumi’s face into his hands and apologized, he wishes he was able to tell him the truth. He deserved the truth, but he couldn’t tell him. He wishes he could stop sniveling like a scolded hatchling, that he could act like a true child of Garon and let this roll off his shoulders with ease. But he can’t erase the sight of Takumi’s face, his stunned, pained face, eyes wide and swimming with confusion, with desperation. With hurt. The arrowhead buried in his side burns every time that sight resurfaces in his thoughts, and he wants to throw up. The nausea crawls up his throat, head still swimming with his foolish delusions.
He couldn't afford to care so deeply for him. Not for a prince of Hoshido.
Not for a human.