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There was a man on the banquet gobbling down the food like a ravaging animal.
On any situation, Satoru would've called the sight disgusting, if not mildy intriguing, but after being succumbed of hours dancing and interacting with a myriad of men and women that just wanted a piece of the crown; it was the best entertainment Satoru had had.
The man in question was adorned in a pale blue suit, draped in a shimmering cloak so white that it was nearly see-through. His hair was strange too, a light shade of pink Satoru had only ever seen from fresh peaches. He was an odd ball and a beacon of light amongst all the boring heads.
"See someone you like?" Suguru whispered against his ear.
He didn't respond, too distracted by the stranger's enthusiasm for the food, piling up a tower on his plate and taking a savoring bite. His clothing bore a display of extravagant wealth, but his mannerism was no different from an average peasant. Satoru could always sense if someone came from a background of wealth or not. But with this man, Satoru honestly can't tell.
The stranger didn't seem to care about talking to Satoru. In fact, Satoru had a wild suspicion he came specifically for the food.
And wasn't that just offending?
"Where are you going?" Suguru asked as he shot him a look of suspicion. "I swear, Satoru, if you're trying to escape again, the King will have your head—"
"I'm not," Satoru cut him off. "I'm just going to talk to someone."
He ignored Suguru's loud call for his name, walking across the ball room and expertly dodging attempts of a dance. As he arrived in front of the banquet, Satoru grabbed a glass of champagne and stood beside the stranger. "Hello there," he greeted.
Instead of receiving wide-eyed looks or adoring compliments like Satoru was used to, the man merely turned to him and offered a kind smile, a smear of chocolate on the side of his lip. "Hello," he said. "Quite a large party, right?"
Satoru shrugged. "I've attended better ones."
"Imagine all these people wanting to dance with one guy," he said, swallowing a bite out of a truffle. "Wonder how the prince feels."
With a herculean strength of will, Satoru managed not to snort at the stranger's obliviousness. "I don't know. How do you think he feels?"
"Hmm, if I were a prince, I'd probably be annoyed by strangers never leaving me alone. Frankly, I find this whole engagement pretty stupid," he responded, while Satoru swallowed his laughter by taking a long sip from his champagne. "Woah, are you alright, man? You sound like you just choked."
"I'm fine." Satoru cleared his throat and flashed a smile. "You were saying?"
He gave Satoru a mild frown. "Well.... I wouldn't wanna marry someone I met for a single night. That's how fast you speedrun a regretful relationship. But if I have to really, really marry someone, then I'd choose a friend I trust rather than a stranger who's more than likely mooching me off for my money."
That was Satoru's first thought too. But his father gave him a whole speech about responsibilities and choosing the right person to rule alongside him. If the royal ball flopped and Satoru still had no interest, he'd just convince Suguru or Shoko to marry him and dramatically announce to his father that he was madly in love with one of his best friends. Royal divorces weren't a common thing and they'd have to spend the rest of their lives married to Satoru— which most of Satoru's associates would call a fate worst than death—but hey, at least the money made it tolerable.
Before Satoru could respond, he noticed the attention they're garnering. He brought down his glass on the table and pressed a hand over the man's shoulder. "Would you like to take this conversation elsewhere? I could show you around the palace garden."
That sparked an interest. "I'd love to!"
"Then come on." Quickly, he tugged his arm and guided him discreetly from the crowd. The guards thankfully didn't announce his presence as they stepped out of the doors.
"You must really know your way here," he commented, turning his head on every corner of the room they pass by with a child-like wonderment. "Do you visit the palace a lot?"
Satoru smiled. "You can say that."
He wore his heart on his sleeve. Every time something interested him, he'd mention it to Satoru and show an unbridled excitement that Satoru could admit was infectious. As much as Satoru enjoyed people kissing his ass, it was a rarity to find someone treating you like a regular person. Not just a figure to be worship or be used to socially climb ladders.
Satoru found him adorable despite how stupid he may be.
"Wait," he paused, and turned to him, curious. "Shouldn't you be with the prince rather than staying with me?"
"Shouldn't you?"
He shook his head as a self-deprecating smile reached his lips. "I don't think he'd find me interesting."
Satoru stared at him in the eye. "I disagree."
"You think?"
"Well, I'm with you right now and so far, my night has made better."
"I'm happy to entertain." His smile made his cheeks pop. The color of honey-filled eyes glowing under the moonlit sky.
Satoru felt entranced. "Can you dance?"
"Huh?" His brows creased, stunned by the sudden question. "I don't actually."
"Then I'll teach you," Satoru grabbed his hands but they pull away.
"I–I can't," he mumbled, shifting gazes. "I'd just humiliate myself in front of you."
"You won't." Then slowly tilted his chin, their eyes meeting again. "I promise."
Biting his lip, he slowly relented and let Satoru bring them closer. He adjusted his hands to where they should rest, putting one on Satoru's shoulder and the other held by his hand. "It's easy," Satoru said, gripping a narrowed waist. "Just follow my pace."
It wasn't easy.
He was stiff as a board, no elegance or confidence in the way he moved but Satoru could give points on his determination to learn; he really was trying his best. Satoru winced every time there was a stab of pain on his foot, then there was a gasp and he'd back away, muttering a sea of apologies. "Oh my God, are you okay—"
"It's fine," Satoru reassured for the umpteenth time, draping his arm back to resume their dance. "This is all just trial and error."
"You're very stubborn," he mumbled, and for some reason, that made Satoru laugh.
"I've been called worst so I'll consider that a compliment," Satoru said. "So we've talked about my day. Let's hear about yours."
He scowled, nose wrinkling. "My day started horrible until it drastically shifted to weird."
"How weird are we talking about here?"
"Very weird," he responded with a laugh. After a hesitant pause, he continued, "I could hardly believe it myself. The most grumpiest person I've ever met randomly appeared to my life and basically made my dreams come true for a night."
His answer wasvague. Honestly, Satoru had so many questions because first of all, that sounded hilarious, but he didn't seem to want to say more on the matter, so Satoru moved on. "There's something you should know."
"What?"
"Remember when you mentioned that I was very familiar with the palace?"
"Uhh... yeah?"
"That's because I live here."
"Oh really?" he said, genuinely impressed. "That sounds awesome."
Satoru couldn't hold it anymore, the laughter that was building up since the start broke rampant. He ducked down and clutched his stomach, the intensity of his guffawing caused his body to madly convulse.
"I...don't get it?" He pulled an adorable frown, confusion clear as day as he watched Satoru die from laughter.
"Okay... " It took an obscene amount of self-control until Satoru could form coherent words, still giggling, he asked him, "Just think about it. Who else lives in the palace?"
"Uhh... The king?"
"And?"
"And the prince—" his lovely eyes shot open. "No."
"Yes," Satoru grinned.
"Y–you're the prince? And you didn't tell me?" Groaning, he took a moment to stir in his own stupidity. "I can't believe it— Now I look like an idiot!"
"A loveable idiot," Satoru added helpfully. "There's a distinction."
"What now?" he asked, a little sheepish. "Should I be calling you Royal Highness?"
Satoru shook his head, smile still lingering. Then softly his hand reached over and cupped a warm cheek, stroking the skin under his thumb. "Gojo-san would suffice."
'Uh," he stuttered, and to Satoru's pleasure, reddish undertones spreading furiously across his cheeks. "Gojo-san, I—"
The clock chimed.
The moment the bell rang in the distance, horror swept over him like an ocean tide. He stepped back from Satoru, body rigid as color washed off his face. "I–I need to go, Gojo-san."
"Wait, where are you—"
"I'm sorry!" And he was already running.
Baffled and confused, Satoru could only watch him disappear through the hedges.
"So you finally met someone you're interested in but you don't know his name or where he came from and now you have no idea how to find him, did I get it right?"
Hearing it in words made Satoru's situation all the more depressing. "Pretty much. Yeah."
Shouko closed her eyes. "You fucking dumbass."