Archive of Our Own

"Have you heard?” A gossiping servant whispers to the kitchen staff, all of them pausing to listen. “The neighboring kingdom just lost their prince!”

The sound of clanking silverware stops, which means all ears and eyes are now on the nosey attendant. Someone gasps. “How do you lose a prince?”

It’s not very proper of the crew to be exchanging rumors and ignoring their tasks at hand—but it’s a great distraction for Chifuyu, who is able to sneak around the room to grab the remaining leftovers before they’re tossed away. 

He quickly loads up a whole basket full of freshly baked bread, as well as assorted cheese and meats, along with some candied fruits. Chifuyu isn’t sure when he’ll be able to infiltrate the lower parts of the castle again, so he piles up as much as he can.

“That whole kingdom is on lockdown!”

“So all the connecting paths are closed?”

“What of the travelers who haven’t made it back home yet?” 

Despite the ruckus, the problem isn’t nearly that serious—losing access to the roads is very common for estates in the mountains. Sometimes transportation is even forced to a standstill, because of the frequent snowstorms. 

Everyone is used to this weather in the land of Thousand Winters, with their inns and taverns as the busiest sources of income. It makes relations with other nations very favorable, while their own travelers are always treated with hospitality in return. 

“Don’t we have a royal messenger in the next kingdom?” 

“They were sent this morning, right?”

Chifuyu is only half listening to the conversation behind him, still trying to maneuver around undetected. He thinks he can swipe a couple more pastries before heading back. 

But he nearly drops an entire plate of untouched food at the next overheard statement.

“Wasn’t the letter to be delivered of dire importance?” 

“It was even written and sealed by the Queen—not an attendant!”

What? His mother?! 

Chifuyu sets the tray of baked goods down, very quietly despite his trembling hands. If the gossip is true, then he needs to hurry back immediately before he gets caught—not by the cooking staff or guards, but by his own mom.

Which means in his haste, he’s only able to grab one pair of utensils for the meal. An oversight he’ll figure out later. Because Noble Prince Chifuyu needs to get back to his royal quarters—where he’s meant to be during this late hour—before the queen herself comes looking for him. 

With everything shoved underneath his cloak, Chifuyu makes a run for it.

“Do you think the letter has anything to do with the lockdown and the missing prince?”

It’s the last thing Chifuyu hears before rushing out of the kitchen. 

Luckily, he doesn’t find himself stumbling into any of the guards posted on the lower floors. Since everyone expects an infiltration to come from the entrances, nobody notices Chifuyu escaping through the window and scaling the castle's walls. 

Even in darkness, he remembers each familiar footstone, worn through the many years of him sneaking out as a child. But it’s made more precarious with the previous blizzard, each surface now coated with a thin layer of ice, an extremely dangerous climb for the unskilled.

When he gets to his own bedroom, thankfully only on the second floor, he’s forced to do a balancing act of holding the basket in one hand, while trying to find the next ledge with the other. The added weight of all the stolen food is heavier than expected, making it difficult for him to jump to the last destination. 

Perhaps Chifuyu had taken too many supplies from the kitchen. 

With newfound determination, Chifuyu tries again. His frozen fingers barely brush against the protruding stone, each time slipping out of his grasp. 

Until he actually does slip… 

There’s a moment of panic, where he feels himself start to pitch forward, losing his footing, suspended in air—

—when another hand reaches out.

The dark silhouette leans over his open window as slender fingers firmly wrap around his wrist. 

With the extra support, Chifuyu is able to swing his body back around to the wall, and use that same momentum to kick off with his feet. He successfully jumps across the final distance to his bedroom, crashing into the figure waiting for him. 

He feels strong arms surrounding him, tucking him close as they tumble backwards onto the floor, immovable and protective. Someone has broken Chifuyu’s fall, has shielded him from its impact. In their embrace, he's safe.

The contents of his basket roll out onto the floor, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. Not when, after he takes a deep breath to calm down, a familiar smoky scent fills his lungs. 

Safe and with the knowledge of who is holding him close, he catches onto the absurdity of the situation and can’t restrain the chuckles that bubble up his throat.

When Chifuyu looks up, shaking with adrenaline and laughter, it’s to the unimpressed look of his childhood friend.

Long black hair, brown eyes with beautiful red undertones, fangs that poke through his lips and a frown that would make a weaker man run away—that’s Baji Keisuke, alright.

“How did you know I was outside, Baji-san?” 

He can’t help the smile on his face, and he can tell Baji is trying not to laugh as well, after they had just narrowly escaped danger. But it’s so easy to spot the upturning corners of his mouth, the twinkling of his eyes, as the other struggles to force his chuckles down.

“You were taking forever to come back, idiot!” The reprimand is all for show, because Baji’s careful hold on him betrays any bite behind his words. “Then I heard you huffing and puffing outside by the window; what would you have done if I wasn’t here?”

The older boy glares at him sternly, but without any real threat. 

Well, Chifuyu would have fallen—that’s for sure.

But he hadn’t. Because Baji had caught him just in time. Like always.

So he lets his friend continue to scold him, while gently brushing the snowflakes out of hair and patting his clothes down. He puts up a pretense of being guilty, pretending to listen to Baji yell at him, but only paying attention to the cadence of his voice. 

He wants to continue laying on the floor, completely enveloped in the other’s warmth, but he knows they have to get up soon.

It’s unfortunate, but tonight, their time is limited.

It always is.

Truth is, Chifuyu would stay forever with Baji if he could.

There exists in his soul a missing piece that his friend takes with him whenever he leaves, shaped with his silhouette and adorned with all their goodbyes. It aches whenever they’re apart; and he aches with it, like a second pulse beneath his skin.

Chifuyu fools himself every time, thinking he’s gotten used to it. Yet, as he’s back in his arms, he wants to cling to the older prince. 

I missed you. 

The words get stuck in his throat.  

This isn’t about how he hurts with each parting, it isn’t about his hatred for the distance that stretches between them—it’s about Baji and making sure he’s alright. 

Especially after his long journey from the neighboring kingdom. 

The details of which, by the way, he hasn’t been told yet. 

Chfiuyu can surely guess them now, though: after all, the rumors in the kitchen were already confirmed the moment Baji had shown up in his bedroom. For Chifuyu had watched Baji Keisuke—the First Prince of the Western Kingdom—come tumbling through his open window, just like he had mere moments ago.

(Maybe just a bit less clumsily.)

Without any questions asked, Chifuyu had immediately rushed to hide the runaway prince in his own bedroom—completely uncaring of the punishment that could befall either of them if they were caught—because Baji had chosen him.  

Baji, when faced with a danger of his own, had chosen Chifuyu as his safe place. 

And that’s…

It’s been years. When he first met Baji in their childhood, the older boy had been determined to bear all the responsibility of being the heir to his kingdom alone. To fight on his own, to take destiny into his own hands. That’s the Baji he met—a boy convinced that the weight on his shoulders couldn’t be carried by anyone else but himself. 

At the time, Chifuyu had barely begun to understand Baji Keisuke. 

And yet, he’d known, from the moment they crossed paths for the first time, that he wanted to be by Baji’s side. 

It had taken patience he didn’t have and time he couldn’t afford. It had taken a lot. But just as Baji had gotten through Chifuyu’s stubborn skull that he wasn’t fighting alone anymore, Chifuyu also had gotten through Baji’s that in his times of need, Chifuyu would always help. 

Always, like a promise, like a binding vow that shined gold. 

That’s why, even if he doesn’t know what’s going on—the circumstances of what has driven Baji out of his own territory—Chifuyu won’t ask about it. Even if he desperately wants an explanation, or at least something remotely close to it, as long as Baji trusts him to keep him safe, Chifuyu will keep quiet. 

The both of them sit up to untangle their limbs, almost shyly now that the adrenaline has worn off around them. Chifuyu breaks away to collect the scattered food, most of which are still wrapped in the handkerchief.

Baji wrinkles his nose. “Why did you steal so many things from the kitchen?”

The expression isn’t something Chifuyu gets to see every day, so he commits the sight to memory. He wants to remember every last moment with Baji before he’s gone. The way his eyebrows furrow and his eyes glint with a thin layer of confusion; how he looks away, then nabs distractedly at his lower lip. 

“I told you, didn’t I?” Baji continues, uncharacteristically quiet. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

The reminder hits harder the second time. A crushing feeling surrounds his heart, but Chifuyu brushes it off as he hands all the stolen food to the other prince.

“You said you hadn’t eaten all day,” he explains. “Plus, you might need provisions for when you go…” But he can’t bring himself to dwell on that train of thought—unknowing of when he’ll be able to see his friend again. 

Not knowing if he’ll be safe. 

It’ll be lonely, he thinks, and he hates how selfish it sounds. 

Because surely Baji must have a reason for running away, and it isn’t for pleasure. He’s not even doing it out of his own volition. 

Still, a part of Chifuyu already aches at the prospect of not seeing him in the foreseeable future. He misses him, even though Baji is not gone yet. 

No, he shakes himself out of his thoughts. I can’t think of that right now. He looks up to find Baji inspecting the bundle, a complicated expression on his face. Chifuyu quickly chimes in. “If you need more, I can go back again in the morning!” 

“No, this is enough.” When Baji lifts his gaze, his eyes are warmer than the heat from the hearth. “Thank you, Chifuyu.” 

He smiles in return. This was the least he could do for Baji. If only he could do more, if only he could go with him—

If only he could offer more than temporary shelter.  

“I’m sorry, this meal isn’t really fit for guests,” let alone a royal prince, he doesn’t mention. “But if I had brought back the food from supper, it might have seemed suspicious.”

Chifuyu sorts out the provisions. 

“I tried to grab things that would travel well.” Then he points at the candied fruit, watching Baji’s face light up when he realizes what he’s brought. “You said apples were scarce in your kingdom, right?”

The two of them settle by the fireplace, as Baji separates his dinner from the supplies to be packed for later. 

“All fruit are,” he comments. “Our land isn’t meant for orchids. It’s not like the rich soil you have here in the mountains.”

“You mean orchards, Baji-san.” Chifuyu laughs. “But I imagine orchids wouldn’t grow well there either.”

He can’t stop looking at the other boy: the way the flames dance against his features, casting shadows along his jawline, how his irises hold a hint of crimson underneath the earthy shades of dark brown, like specks of heat burning on wood. 

Something about fire and Baji always seem to go hand in hand; both enchantingly beautiful, both devastatingly dangerous. Their nature unable to be contained, wild in their purest form. Enticing and hypnotizing and a thousand other words he’d list if only they had the time. 

But that’s something they’re running out of.

Baji holds up a pastry, one he knows that Chifuyu likes. 

Chifuyu had been hoping it would be packed for his journey; a selfish thought that maybe Baji would be reminded of him when he eats it. 

“No.” Chifuyu shakes his head. “Those are for you.”

The older prince lifts an eyebrow, probably thinking about why Chifuyu is holding back from his favorite sweets, puzzled by it. But he doesn’t need the sugary comfort, not when his favorite person is already sitting across from him.

“We’ll split it.”

Baji’s voice leaves no room for complaints, especially as he breaks the scone in half and holds one part in front of Chifuyu. 

Their single set of cutlery sits, unused, between the two of them. 

Chifuyu hopes his blush can be blamed on the flames, as Baji continues to hand feed him the meal he had stolen from his own home. 

It feels wrong, when they were meant as a treat for his friend. And yet, he wants to keep this moment for himself; to take it in his hands and engrave it in his mind, in his heart, and in his soul.  

So that he may never forget Baji’s warmth or the hidden tender look in his eyes. 

“What are you…” another piece of cheese gets stuffed in his mouth, “...going to do after this?”

Baji shrugs. “I suppose I’ll sleep for a bit, then maybe leave before the sun rises.”

It’s less time than he thought, so Chifuyu is unable to hide the sorrow in his words. 

“You’re going to leave in the middle of the night?”

“There’s going to be another snow storm in the morning. I have to leave before then.” Baji says it confidently; a decision already made. “It’ll wipe away my footsteps, so no one can follow me.”

The suffocating feeling around Chifuyu’s heart tightens. 

“Then you should take the bed, Baji-san.” When he sees the other boy start to protest, he pushes a bread end into Baji’s mouth. “You have a long journey ahead of you.” Another ham chunk. “You need to rest.” This fresh apple slice will keep him from talking back. “I’ll take the floor.” 

The next handful of food gets turned down as Baji struggles to chew and swallow what’s already been fed to him. Because Chifuyu can’t stop giving him everything he has to offer—and more.

“I’ve turned you into a thief in your own castle,” coughs Baji. “I’m not going to steal your bed, too.”

Yeah, no way that’s happening.

What Baji doesn’t realize (completely oblivious to how Chifuyu’s brain has died at the mere suggestion) is that he will perish if they share sleeping arrangements. Just the thought of spending the whole night in the same limited space is enough to send him into a cardiac arrest—and the Kingdom of Thousand Winters doesn’t need a dead prince. 

He has shared a lot with Baji, but Chifuyu will simply not wake up if he goes to sleep in those conditions. He’ll simply be found, deceased, by Baji’s side—and then their nations will wage war, and Chifuyu refuses to be the reason for Baji’s prosecution.

Absolutely not.  

But his worst nightmares are confirmed when Baji moves away to rearrange the pillows on his mattress, as dread crawls up his spine. 

“Here,” Baji says, tapping the newly cleared space. “We’ll share it.”

Chifuyu’s heartbeat is so loud, he thinks even the neighboring kingdoms, including the one Baji ran away from, can probably hear it now. Compared to that, his own voice is subdued.

“N-No…”

“Hah? What do you mean, no?”

“Baji-san… we’ve always shared a lot of things together,” starts Chifuyu weakly, “but we can’t share that. It’s not proper.”

“Why not?”

“B-Because we’re not…” Chifuyu swallows. “...married.”

The look he gets from Baji is unreadable. 

He turns his head to the side, before Chifuyu can truly figure it out. Maybe marriage is a touchy subject for him, since it’s usually used as a political tactic within royalty, rather than a traditional celebration of a union.

“We don’t have to share everything,” especially not the bed, reasons Chifuyu.

They really do share a lot of things: the border of their kingdoms, the memories of their childhood, their fondness for those imported noodles, and, more recently, the ownership of a street cat of dubious origins as well. 

However, Chifuyu is sure they don’t share the same feelings that lie within him. 

He can’t imagine that Baji’s heart races like his does whenever they’re together. 

Or that his stomach flutters when they exchange words. 

That the moments they spend together are seared in his mind, with desperation and longing clawing at his insides second after second. 

They share a lot of things, but they don’t have to share everything—and Chifuyu is fine with Baji not sharing the type of love he harbours for the other prince. 

The moment of silence that passes between them can’t be too long, but it stretches for all of eternity in Chifuyu’s troubled mind. Time always moves oddly around Baji; the banquets where they reunite are less frequent than the wars that keep them apart. 

“Chifuyu…” he says, still not meeting his gaze. “Would you share a kingdom with me?”

“Huh?” The questions make him anxious, but in a way he doesn’t understand. Chifuyu climbs into the bed with him, leaning in closer to make sure he hears the words properly. “What do you mean?”

Baji opens and closes his mouth a few times. Finally, he dismisses the conversation altogether, a light blush on his face. “Sorry, Fuyu.” He shakes his head. “Just forget I said that.”

Except he can’t. Because Baji already said them.

“This might sound cowardly, but—” Baji sighs, still flustered. “I think I’m going to run away.”

It’s something Chifuyu already knew, had guessed from the start. He always knows Baji’s intentions before he ever speaks them. 

(Years of being by someone’s side will do that.)

But the sadness he sees in the other boy’s eyes, that’s not what Chifuyu is prepared to take in. Not when it’s like this.

“Run… away?”

Baji curls his hands into fists. “Yes, I…” He lowers his gaze, seemingly unable to meet Chifuyu’s eyes. “I came here to say goodbye to you.”

Goodbye. It sounds so final. 

Chifuyu abhorrers the dissonant sound it makes coming out of Baji’s mouth, like a strident echo he wishes he never heard. However, in his friend’s copper stare, he finds nothing but a gentle plea. 

Would you share a kingdom with me, Baji had asked of him earlier... 

“So…” Chifuyu starts, a hand reaching out towards one of Baji’s. He takes it within his own and gently runs his fingertips against the other's skin until the fist unclenches. "You want me to watch over your kingdom while you’re gone?”

He fiddles with Baji’s rings in the semblance of a nervous tick.  

That’s… a lot of responsibility.  

But he would, of course, be agreeable to take over; if only because it’s Baji asking. 

Since there doesn’t exist a world in which Chifuyu is capable of refusing him. 

However, it’s a request he’s cautious about. 

Still, with his parents’ help, it shouldn’t be as difficult as it seems. Neither Chifuyu nor Baji carry the full weight of their kingdom’s well-being—even if they’re a big part of it, as is the duty of the royal family—and so, managing both his and Baji’s affairs should not be… impossible. 

Baji winces at his words, though. “That, uh,” he coughs, diverting his eyes from Chifuyu’s once more. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Chifuyu frowns, wondering what Baji could have meant, if it wasn’t that. He looks at his friend in askance, curiosity peeking through his conflicted emotions. But he doesn’t find an answer—just a sigh as Baji falls down onto the bed, his long hair spreading out over the mattress. 

“Never mind,” Baji’s voice sounds defeated, and Chifuyu, more than anything, hates hearing the resignation in it. Baji squeezes their hands together before saying anything else. “I guess it’s better this way.”

Why? Chifuyu wants to ask. Why are you shutting me out? You can rely on me, Baji-san. You must know that.

Baji must see the questions in his expression, because he smiles at him, gentle, his stare overflowing with fondness. In front of it, Chifuyu crumbles—melts away, completely undone by the older prince. 

“I don’t want to drag you into this mess, Chifuyu.” A hand reaches out to cup his cheek, and Chifuyu leans into it. “I’m sorry you have to put up with my selfishness.”

He shakes his head. “You can drag me into all the messes you want, Baji-san. You can be as selfish as you want when it comes to me,” he responds, hoping to convey the sincerity in his words. “I promise.”

“I know,” Baji whispers. “That’s why I can’t.”

A finger caresses his cheekbone, traces a line towards his bangs before pushing them away as tenderly as possible. Then, Baji detangles their interlaced hands and sits up with his back turned to him. 

Baji runs a hand through his hair, as he’s wont to do when stressed. Chifuyu bites his lip, feeling useless, not knowing how his words can reach his friend. He extends his arm outwards, yet as he’s about to grab onto Baji’s shirt, the older boy stands up and begins to pack his belongings. 

“Baji-san…!” At least, spend the night here! “What are you doing? You shouldn’t venture into the tundra past the sunset!” 

He sees Baji pause, a tremor in his back.

“My kingdom is about to be merged, and they’re going to use me as a pawn.” 

The words echo in the chamber. Chifuyu grips the bedsheets tight, unable to reply—can barely hang onto their meaning. 

Baji sighs and runs his hand through his hair again, still with his back towards him. 

“Like I said before, our crops are failing and it’s affecting the feed of the cattle,” as he explains, Baji keeps packing his few possessions away. “All of our food resources are less than they were last year.” Chifuyu can hear him grit his teeth, frustrated at the situation. “Any day now, we won’t have enough supplies to ration for the winter.”

If that’s the problem, then—

“Our kingdom isn’t like yours,” Baji continues, helplessness afflicting his voice. “We only have winter for one season, and we can’t even prepare for it when it comes.”

“Baji-san, if that’s the problem, then my kingdom can help!” 

Chifuyu refuses to backtrack, even as Baji turns around and stares at him as if he’s lost his mind. “How would you—?”

“We have plenty of trees that still grow in the cold! Our fertilizer produces heat and our irrigation system is insulated—” he attempts to explain. 

However, once he sees Baji’s confused expression, he stops. They’re technical terms Chifuyu himself only knows because of how it affects his land; Baji doesn’t have any reason to know them. 

“We’re very used to winter,” he tries again, this time in a much simpler way. “We have measures in place so our crops don’t die, we could share them with you! And we could give you a portion of seeds from those variations that mutated to survive below freezing temperatures,” Chifuyu offers, earnest to help. Knowing he can, relief blooms in his heart. “We can help the Western Kingdom, Baji-san.”

But Baji shakes his head.

It stings, to watch him do so. “Something like that would take years to negotiate between our nations,” the other prince counters, aware of the politics it would involve. “Plus, we don’t have the money or the resources to pay you guys back.”

Like a puppet whose strings were cut, Baji’s body sags against his bed frame. He turns just barely to look Chifuyu in the eyes, and then, with a rueful smile, he adds: 

“Thank you, though.”

Chifuyu’s heart aches at the sight. Abruptly, he gets off the bed and kneels by Baji’s side, his hands gripping the other’s shoulders tightly. “You cannot truly believe that I would charge you for anything. Have I not shown you that I would stand by your side? Baji-san, there would be no price to pay!”

“I can’t ask that of you,” Baji denies, an iron-clad refusal to take advantage of Chifuyu’s goodwill. Still, he places his hands above Chifuyu’s own, gently. “Neither can I ask it of your parents, or your kingdom. The North shouldn’t give away their secrets so easily, Fuyu.”

But all Chifuyu hears is that Baji is, yet again, trying to carry all the responsibility alone. “You can, Baji-san. I know you would take care of the North’s secrets as well as you do the West’s.”

“It—” Baji’s voice catches in his breath. Then, he shakes his head again, slower. “It wouldn’t work anyways. What my parents want is an immediate solution. One that would forfeit our kingdom to someone else’s rule.” Interweaving their fingers, Baji leads their hands towards his cheek and leans into it, searching for the caress. He remains quiet for a moment, before opening his eyes—when had they closed?—and clashing burnt amber against aquamarine. “But I know there’s another way out of this. I just have to find it before winter.”

Entranced, Chifuyu is hardly aware of what he whispers. “Before it’s too late.”

Baji nods. His eyes reflect a resolution, a distinct determination—he won’t back down, no matter what. “Even if I have to do this alone.”

They stay like that for what might have been seconds, minutes, or forever, perhaps. Chifuyu knows, then, what he has to do.

For if Baji goes, he will follow. 

He won’t leave his childhood friend, the person he’s in love with, to face this alone. 

Chifuyu stands up, breaking the contact between them, and walks up to his closet. He takes out a handful of clothes and adds them to Baji’s baggage. Knowing it won’t have enough space for both of their clothing though, he looks around for another sack—he could’ve sworn he had a couple of them lying around…

“What are you doing?”

At Baji’s baffled question, Chifuyu rolls his eyes. As if it isn’t obvious. Still. “Packing,” he answers. “The sun rises in a few hours; we need to get going soon if we’re headed East—that’s where the sunlight will hit first.”

Silence befalls the room, broken only by the sound of ruffling fabric. 

At least, before Baji finds his voice again. “What are you talking about? Chifuyu—”

“I’ll come with you,” he interrupts the other.

“You don’t even know where I’m going.”

At this, Chifuyu pauses and turns to meet Baji’s stare. “Does it matter?” It’s true that all he knows is that Baji is going towards the East. How far, until when, all the hows—Chifuyu doesn’t know any of it. But he also doesn’t care about them. “I’ll still follow you.”

It’s not a confession, but his heart is still laid bare. 

“Chifuyu…”

“Don’t try to stop me,” he cuts Baji off. “I’ll go with you, Baji-san. Whether you want it or not.”

A snort leaves his friend’s lips, fond and yielding. “I wouldn’t,” he admits. His brown eyes shine like rich soil. “You know I couldn’t.”

Indeed. Chifuyu is stubborn about what he wants, and he knows Baji both respects and admires that. Headstrong, the older prince said to him—as if he was the only one. 

Both of them are as bull-headed as they come. 

But it’s because of that same nature that they understand when the other has made a decision and not to interfere. 

Baji sighs, and Chifuyu knows he’s won this round.

“Come on, then,” Chifuyu grins, cheeky. Happy Baji won’t try to get him to reconsider. “Help me pack.”

The other boy does as told with an amused scoff, and soon enough, they’re talking about what they’re going to need for the journey. Clothes, jewelry to sell and not end up short of money, scarves to cover their—very recognizable—faces, food…

“I don’t think we need cat toys, Baji-san,” Chifuyu says, amusement dripping from his voice. 

Baji doesn’t pout, but it’s a near thing. “What if we find stray cats?”

“If we do,”—which, considering who he’ll be traveling with, Chifuyu is counting on it— “we’ll entertain them ourselves. No need for the extra weight.”

“Fine…”

By the time they’re done, it’s past midnight. The castle is barren of sound, except for Baji's and Chifuyu’s own voices and the howling wind outside the windows. 

It’s time to go. 

They leave his bedroom immaculate, so people won’t suspect a kidnapping, but decide on a handwritten note for Chifuyu’s mother—signed and everything, just in case.

As they grab the bags, though, Chifuyu notices Baji taking the majority of them, leaving for Chifuyu to travel as light as possible. 

He huffs at the realization. “You don’t have to carry everything,” Chifuyu complains as he forcibly takes a bag from Baji’s hand. “I’m here, too.”

“I’m stronger,” Baji justifies. 

“I don’t care,” he answers, almost petulant. “No matter how strong you are, I’ll always be there to help, Baji-san. So rely on me.”

A smile, fond and sincere, makes its way to Baji’s mouth. “I know.”

Suddenly, it’s as if they’re not talking about the bags anymore. 

The weight that Baji carries for the sake of his kingdom, Chifuyu can only be glad that he chose to share it with him. If it were me, he thinks, it would’ve crushed me. But he's trying to move forward. 

The responsibility Baji took on is enormous—anyone of lesser strength would have folded. The lives of many hang on his back, on his ability to find a solution before winter devours their reserves and leaves the West a barren land. Yet, although not with utmost confidence, Baji walks towards the future and confronts it head on. 

After all, Baji-san is still Baji-san. 

Chifuyu smiles to himself. He knows that Baji would keep on walking forward without his help, that he wouldn’t complain or try to get out of carrying such weight alone. Yet, relief fills him at knowing Baji has let him ease a sliver of it. 

To lift the weight off of Baji-san’s shoulders as much as I can. That’s all I want. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he nods resolutely and goes towards the balcony. The guards will have more chances to spot them, but if they walk through the castle’s corridors, surely they will wake someone up. 

As he’s about to open the balcony’s door, though, Baji interrupts him. 

“You don’t really have to do this, you know.”

I know. 

But Chifuyu wants to. 

He’ll always want to.

“Whatever burden you’re carrying right now, I want to make it lighter,” the words come out soft, but his conviction is firm. “The problem you have right now, we’ll solve it together.” He turns around, eyes. “If you want to face it, I’ll face it with you.”

Baji is, after all, his most precious person. 

“And if you want to run,” Chifuyu says, his most sincere feelings coming out. “Then run to me.”

“Chifuyu…” 

Baji says his name like a caress done half-way, choking up at the palpable affection in the air. And it’s all Chifuyu needs to continue with this improvised confession of his. 

“If you run, Baji-san, I’ll run with you. Anywhere. I’ll follow you.” His heartbeat echoes loudly as it trembles. Baji has had his heart from the start. “Only you.”

After a few seconds of silence, he hears Baji mutter: “Only me, huh…”

The smile that blooms in the corners of Baji’s lips, almost hesitant in its nature, outshines the moon even as it glows through the windows. 

It’s beautiful, and a bit bashful. 

And it gives Chifuyu the courage to put his bag down and step into Baji’s space. “Your burdens, I want you to share them with me. If that means running off to the East,” —once in front of the other, he can’t help his smile as he takes one of Baji’s hands with his and caresses it with his thumb—“then, let’s walk towards where the light shines. Let’s run without a moment’s hesitation, and find a solution of our own!”

Baji stares at him for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing—and squeezes his hand in thanks at the same time. 

Heat runs beneath Chifuyu’s cheeks when he realizes what he’s said, but he doesn’t regret them at all. 

Even less so when, after calming down, Baji gains a peaceful expression and leans down to rest their foreheads together. There is so much affection pouring from Baji’s eyes that Chifuyu feels able to drown in it. 

“Alright,” Baji accepts with a grin that shows off his fangs. Then, as elation hits Chifuyu full on the chest, the other prince huffs, amused. “Sap.”

Chifuyu is sure his face has become red, but he doesn’t dare step backwards or lean away from Baji—no matter how detrimental to his heart he is. When Baji doesn’t, either, as seconds pass, he nudges Baji’s forehead with his, close as they still are. 

“Baji-san?”

The older boy takes a deep breath. “Then…” He exhales and takes a step back. “You should know what I’m running from.”

Chifuyu expects an explanation, an obstacle, or maybe an enemy. 

What he doesn’t expect—is for Baji to reach into his bag and pull out a formal parchment scroll. One with a broken, but somewhat familiar seal. 

“You remember our nation’s marriage traditions, right?” Baji blushes here. “The rituals we have for courting someone of the royal family…” 

Chifuyu stays silent.

“They have to receive a marriage proposal in the form of a letter—”

He knows this.

Chifuyu has often wondered what it would be like to receive a letter from Baji Keisuke.

He thinks he knows where this is going. 

“—detailing the merging of kingdoms, or the forfeit of one. Either way, the two nations will become one with the union, and be under the same rule.”

Baji sighs awkwardly, as his blush deepens. Whether from embarrassment or frustration or something else—it isn’t clear. Since he’s looking away from Chifuyu’s direction now.

“We have 24 hours to accept or reject a letter.” He shakes the crumpled up scroll in his fist, further distressing the paper. “But ignoring the proposal is also as good as a rejection. Actually it’s worse.”

There’s a bitter laugh here that doesn’t match the situation. It’s clear that Baji has recently received a marriage proposal from another kingdom. But it’s not the joyous occasion it should normally be. 

This was not the solution he wanted.

“I overheard my parents talking about this letter.” The jealousy that’s eating away at Chifuyu is only subdued by the reluctance in Baji’s tone as he describes his own reaction. “They want me to accept the proposal so that we can save our kingdom. But I—”

There’s a moment, too quick that he might have imagined it, where Baji’s eyes flicker over to him.

“I stole the letter.” Baji says, carefully. “So that they can’t respond.”

Chifuyu swallows. “Then you came here?”

The true question is left unspoken.

Between them lies a million answers, and Chifuyu isn’t sure he’s ready to hear any of them just yet. Not when the only thing that can be heard is the beating of his own heart. 

“All marriages are political nowadays, I get it.” Baji continues on. “It’s a privilege to be able to marry someone you have feelings for.” Though his tone indicates he disagrees with this statement. “But I don’t even know who Sentou is—I can’t just marry someone I’ve never met!” 

Time literally freezes in the land of Thousand Winters as Chifuyu slowly processes what Baji has just said. The words ringing in his ear, as comprehension slowly takes over.

“Baji-san.” The sound is so small, just like the hope in his heart. “Did you say, Sentou?”

His friend gives him an odd look.

Almost numbly, Chifuyu reaches out to uncurl Baji’s fist, pulling the parchment from between the other boy’s fingers. 

“Huh?” Baji asks. “You know who this Sentou is?”

Chifuyu’s hands are shaking as he turns over the paper.

In disbelief, he sees it now, the two sides of the broken seal.

It’s a snowflake.

“You don’t—” His voice gets caught in his throat. “You don’t recognize this insignia, Baji-san?”

His friend peers over to look, but shakes his head. “I mean, it kinda looks like yours? But doesn’t your family crest have a cat on it too?”

No.

That was the unofficial one that Chifuyu had drawn as a child and was rejected by all the royal advisors. Yet, it’s the one that Baji remembers, because all the letters Chifuyu has sent him, ever since they were just a couple of rebellious kids, use his handmade stamp.

“This is my seal,” he says quietly.

When Chifuyu opens the letter, despite the shaking of his hands, he can read the words clearly. Of course he can.

Because it’s his mother’s handwriting that stares back at him.

“This is from my kingdom,” he confirms.

And as he carefully looks at the characters below:

千冬

In barely a whisper, for he can’t believe it himself. “This is… my name.” 

He had forgotten that Baji can’t read kanji properly.

“This is,” voice trembling, “my marriage proposal… ?”

Baji rips the letter out of his hands, scanning the content like they’re some secret to behold. “What are you talking about?” 

To be fair, the two kingdoms read their words differently. So Baji isn’t too far off the mark. But Chifuyu knows the characters that make up his namesake.

“Baji-san… this is read as Thousand Winters.”

When the other boy stays quiet, either stunned silent or possibly just confused, Chifuyu tries to explain. “It’s read as ‘sen’ and ‘tou’ in the West, but in the North we read it as ‘chi’ and ‘fuyu.’ It’s probably a common mistak—” 

“I accept.”

Chifuyu stops at the interruption, now confused himself. “What?”

“I accept,” repeats Baji.

The declaration rings in his ears, echoing through the room. 

I accept. 

Chifuyu thinks he should, at the very least, be a bit miffed with his mother, who sent his hand in marriage away without his input. 

But he can’t. 

Baji stares at him like the first signs of spring—full of wonder and awe—and although Chifuyu is a child of snow, right now, it feels as if flowers are blooming from his heart to his veins, and blossoming inside his body, beautiful and colorful.

“Baji-san, are you…?” Sure, he doesn’t finish, a part of himself afraid of the answer. “If this is because you can’t see an alternative—”

“It’s not.” The older prince steps forwards, impossibly closer to him. “When I asked you if you’d share a kingdom with me, this is what I meant. But you didn’t get it, and I…” 

As Baji’s hand reaches out and cups his cheek, Chifuyu’s breath catches. His knees almost give out when the other boy rests their foreheads together.

“I couldn’t force you into a marriage,” Baji finishes, no louder than a whisper. 

Chifuyu lifts his arms and grips onto Baji tightly, his fingers digging into the fabric. “You wouldn’t have,” he replies. He feels himself tremble, but he can’t contain the words any longer. “I’m in love with you, Baji-san.”

The smile overtaking Baji’s mouth erases all his doubts. He’s never seen the older boy as happy as he seems now. 

“So am I,” Baji answers his confession. “My family name, my kingdom, my burdens, my life—I’ll share them with you.” His eyes burn bright, a flame ablaze. Then, quieter: “I’ve always wanted to.”

Those words—what they promise, what they mean for their relationship—Chifuyu has longed to hear them for years, long before he even realized what he felt for his childhood friend wasn’t just friendship. 

And that’s his limit, really. 

He stands lightly on his tiptoes and brings their lips mere millimetres apart, before asking softly: “May I?”

Baji chuckles just as soft. And gives his answer as he closes the distance and seals their lips together. It’s short, clumsy and sweet, and it’s Chifuyu’s first kiss. 

The parchment lies on the floor, the fireplace bristles on. The moon shines on the sky, and the winds of the night howl, a snow storm on the horizon. 

Chifuyu giggles as Baji leans down once more, kissing his mouth repeatedly. 

There’ll be work to do in the morning. Baji will have to answer the letter—preferably within the time limit—and clear things up with his parents. Chifuyu will probably be swept away to start the arrangements for the wedding and the union of their nations. 

The thought is so daunting, he thinks maybe they should run away after all and elope.

Either way, one thing is clear:

Whatever path Baji chooses, Chifuyu will follow him.