Work Text:
Three knocks sounded on the heavy wooden door. There was some shuffling from within before it creaked open. ‘What is it?’ Dazai asked, stifling a yawn. The guard had the decency to look sheepish, knocking at such a late hour.
‘His Majesty the King has requested to speak with you, Your Highness. Immediately.’
Dazai blinked at the guard for a moment before shrugging on a cloak - it didn’t match the rest of his ensemble but he preferred being warm in the cool castle hallways than keeping up with the fashions of high society. When he stepped into the hallway, another guard joined their walk to the king’s quarters, smiling briefly at Dazai before resuming the role of a stoic sentry.
‘Odasaku!’ Dazai beamed. ‘You’re finally back. How are the kids? How are you doing on your mission of finding looove ?’ He asked impishly, with a pointed look back at the guard on his right. Oda had been trying - and failing - at flirting with the man all year. Daza decided it was high time he sped things up.
Oda’s furious blush was hidden by his helmet. ‘They’re fine, Your High--Dazai,’ he corrected, when Dazai sharply turned his head. He had made it adamant that he despised being referred to by his title by anyone, let alone by those he considered friends. Most reverted back to calling him by his title out of habit, or insisted it wasn’t proper for them to do so. That was one of the reasons Dazai liked Oda - he slipped up sometimes, but gave his best effort in treating the prince like a human being, and not like a deity as most did.
The castle was quiet at night - no courtiers, no servants running errands. Just the guardsmen keeping watch, on occasion the odd knight returning from a quest. The door to the king’s chambers was already open, knights huddled around a war table. Dazai stepped forward, his eyes on the war table in the centre of the room. Their kingdom had been at peace for some time now, they had strong allies, their enemies severely weakened by their disastrous loss in the war years prior. To see a war table meant trouble was brewing. ‘You requested to see me, Your Majesty?’ He gave a brief bow to the king as the knights took their prompt to leave.
‘Ah, Dazai, you’re here.’ Mori beckoned him in, the doors slamming shut behind him. ‘I’m afraid there have been some recent reports concerning a potential uprising, of sorts.’
Dazai raised an eyebrow. Uprisings and rebellions had been common as he grew up, under the rule of his grandfather. ‘Of sorts?’
Mori looked grim. ‘I’ve received word there may be an attempt to overthrow us. Overthrow me .’
In brutal honesty, Dazai didn’t care much for Mori’s life. While he had been able to secure peace for the kingdom, Dazai wasn’t blind to the hardships their people still faced. And how Mori had done little to solve those issues. If he ever spoke up, he would be thrown out of the castle, his title taken from him. While that was something that didn’t worry Dazai, the potential harm his actions could cause for his sister did. Yosano wouldn’t be willing to go down without a fight, but if it came down to her against every guard under the king’s command...
Putting on a facade of concern, Dazai pretended to show interest in the figures on the war table. ‘Is there a particular group responsible for this?’
A nod. ‘A small anarchist group known as the Sheep. Youngsters whose lives were ruined by the war and refused to step back into society. My sources tell me they’ve been moving from the outskirts of the kingdom to the capital for the past few months now. In every town they’ve been through, every outpost they passed, there’s been an attack on the guards posted there.’
Dazai pretended to ponder for a moment. ‘These attacks - are they leaving the men injured or dead?’
A scroll was tossed onto the table, toppling over a few figurines. ‘At first they were just injured. But the last eight have experienced deaths. The last three were completely wiped out.’
That tidbit of information made Dazai’s outstretched hand pause. To wipe out an entire outpost of trained guards took more skill than he had given them credit for. ‘When was the last attack?’
‘Two nights ago. Near the port.’
He scanned the scroll, taking note of the number of injured guards, the witness statements, the trail they had been following. It was far from the easiest way of reaching the capital, avoiding the main cities and hitting the smaller, weaker spots. ‘Why did you request my presence, Your Majesty?’
‘I’m warning you, Dazai,’ Mori said. He stood up from his chair and paced to the window, his hands behind his back. ‘Warning you that the peace may be over soon.’ He turned to look at Dazai. ‘When that time comes, you’ll need to lead the knights into battle.’ Dazai opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off. ‘I don’t care about your silly little thoughts of killing yourself.’ His voice turned from even and firm to a cruel growl. ‘Get a hold of yourself. I have enough to deal with as it is - Yosano’s...’ He waved his hand around dismissively, ‘ incipacitated , for the time being. Until she recovers enough, I’m stuck with you instead. It’s time you get over your issue with being a leader and actually take control. For once in your life, Dazai, grow up. You aren’t a pathetic child who can hide anymore.’
Each word stung like a poisoned arrow shot straight into his body. But he had come to expect nothing less of his father over the years. When in public, he was the shining example of a perfect parent, a perfect king, a perfect leader. But when the doors closed, he became someone else entirely.
As much as Dazai wanted to protest, to shout back that his depression wasn’t something he could just get over , that Yosano’s injury during training two months ago had left her in a wheelchair, an injury that she couldn’t just walk off like it was nothing, that neither of them were perfect, but they tried their best despite what the world threw at them - as much as he wanted to shout, he couldn’t. If he went out of line, Yosano would be the one facing the fall. Or Oda. Or Ango. Or-
‘Have I made myself clear, Dazai?’
He swallowed. ‘Crystal clear, Your Majesty.’
Dazai was dismissed.
---
The second he slammed the door to his own chambers shut, the act dropped. His shoulders relaxed, the pleasant, approachable expression fell. His eyes fell to the closet door, hanging slightly ajar.
Most would have called for the guards. Dazai did not.
Without drawing his sword, he pulled on the handle of the closet door, and it swung open to reveal a shorter man hiding inside. ‘About time, mackerel,’ Chuuya grumbled as he stepped out. ‘I swear those fucking guards came in here to see if you were--’ His words were cut off with a kiss.
When Dazai withdrew, he was breathing heavily. ‘Good to see you too, babe.’ He hoisted Chuuya into his arms, ignoring his struggle, before setting him down on the bed. Chuuya was on his knees in an instant, still trying to reach Dazai’s face to continue where they left off. He always pouted in an adorable way when he inevitably couldn’t reach.
‘What did they want, anyway?’ Chuuya asked as Dazai put away the cloak he had been wearing. ‘Must have been important to pull you out of bed in the middle of the night.’
Dazai smirked. ‘Nothing important, honestly. But is that a hint of jealousy, I hear, my dear Chuuya?’ Chuuya’s face turned red as he began his protest, and Dazai couldn’t help but smile.
God, he was so in love.
When the smile crossed his face, Chuuya faltered. ‘Osamu, are you okay?’ Dazai had two types of smiles - the ones he reserved for Chuuya, true and honest smiles that made his face light up and his eyes sparkle, and the ones he used for everyone else, never reaching his eyes, only appearing as a shallow expression. Usually, Dazai didn’t hold back his true smiles when it was just himself and Chuuya. But now he was.
Something had changed in the time between Dazai being whisked away in the middle of their nap and now.
Dazai nodded cheerfully. ‘Just fine, Chuuya. Absolutely desperate to get back to having you sleeping on me,’ he said as he laid down on the bed, pulling Chuuya under the sheets with him.
Tired. Don’t want to talk about it.
Chuuya could take a hint. Talking about his problems did help Dazai, to some degree, but at times it was too much for him to handle. Out of the ways he tried to cope with that, sleep was the only safe option. Coincidentally, he slept the best on the nights Chuuya snuck into the castle to coax him to sleep, fighting his demons for him. Meanwhile, Dazai gave Chuuya the warmth and protection he so desperately wanted, helped remind him he was worth more than his occupation, that it was okay to relax sometimes.
The prince and the petty thief had more in common than they had originally thought. But little did they know, that would soon change.