Archive of Our Own ^beta

It had been a fine morning, when Shinya had first woken up.

Slowly, his eyes had blinked open, mind arising to wakefulness. They had come to rest upon the spacious, but sparsely furnished room in which his bed resided, soft and so comfortable, especially with the warmth the sheets provided. He'd been tempted to stay in bed, even as his body, having begun its training since six years ago, prevented him from going back to sleep that he'd come awake. Still, he'd yawned and twisted underneath the bedsheets, pulling the blankets up to his chin, curling into himself. He'd caught sight of the clock by the wall facing his left, and had known he still had about fifteen minutes to till he had to get up and prepare for the day.

Then again, this particular morning, on this time of the year, he'd always enjoyed a lot. So he'd moved out of bed, and walked towards the window. Had stood, and admired the marvelous view outside.

Down—for his room was situated on the upper levels—the ground was covered by a blanket of pure white. The layers were thick; he'd been certain his legs, still not quite tall, would sink down past his ankles should he step on the places still not shoveled enough. It had not stopped him from wishing he could skip breakfast and just go sit outside, even though he knew that, despite the absence of snowfall, it was still cold outside. Perhaps bitingly, in fact.

He'd known better than to try. After all, it had been quite a while since a certain fear had built itself a home in his heart, and locked inside every emotion that attempt to override its rule. Indeed, rather than a simple house, it was a castle, much like the one he resided in. Forever confining him in its walls.

He'd sighed at the thoughts, and had proceeded to move away, beginning to get ready. Thinking far too much on such fine morning would be a mistake, he'd thought.

Later, he'd discovered it did not matter what thoughts had circled his mind. Perhaps this just wasn't so good of a morning after all.

He was rounding a corner when he'd been grabbed, buy the collar of the nice shirt he'd worn, tugged inside a room.p and thrown roughly against the door once it was shut.

Shinya had long since gotten used to the horrors one could face in this castle, however. The angry snarl that came had done little to faze him. He'd simply looked up into eyes of gleaming red, and once he recognised who it was, what little fear had gripped his heart disappeared. He knew well what would happen.

"How dare you?!" The next moment, a painful kick to his stomach had momentarily rendered him breathless. It was followed by another, another, and another.

"You fucking cheated your way through last night's duel, didn't you?! There's no way I can lose! You're just a fucking whore like your mother!"

'Ah, now I understand.'

He'd never liked the winter celebration night. The customary sword duels, in particular, were a hard chore. He did enjoy the morning after, yes, but not the night.

Today, even the next morning appeared to be irritating. Seishirou had come to him, and he'd come vengeful.

'Father must've scolded him… then again, had he even paid attention to the result?'

Possibly, or perhaps not.

The king hardly cared for his middle son, nor the bastard child that had been unfortunately been conceived by another noblewoman.

It was quite simple though. All Shinya needed to do was stay still, and take the beating. In ways, Seishirou was clever with his brutality. He knew perfectly were to land the blows, so they'd never be seen by others.

Moments had passed as the hits came, leaving faint dirt marks on his clean clothes, probably bruising the skin beneath, and at last, Seishirou had grown satisfied with his beating. He'd grabbed him by his hair, thrown him to the floor away from the door, and walked out, slamming it shut.

Shinya had payed none of it any mind.

He'd stayed still, waited for a minute or a couple, for the pain in his body to subside. Not completely, but just about enough for him to get up to his feet, and dust his clothes off. Fortunately there had been a mirror inside the room, and he'd taken a glance at himself in it, making sure he looked presentable and then, as though no violence had occurred, moved towards the door, pulled it open, and walked out.

During breakfast, another pair of carnelian eyes had found him. Shinya had pretended not to see.

It was only when he'd finally made it outside the castles walls, that he felt better, more at ease. 

(He liked to pretend that he was free, for these limited moments.) 

As he begun to walk, he tried to smile, to enjoy the way his foot dipped in the snow. He tried to breath past the weight that had gathered in his chest, nudging up and around, making breathing feel a little hard to do. He stared at the pallor of the winter day, and it reminded him about the that night days ago, when the icy season had begun, and Kureto stood next to him as the snow begun one night, telling him winter was his favourite season. Shinya had smiled and indulged him in the conversation, asking him why, and his big brother told him "because I love the snow."

Shinya tried to think about other things too. But the weight wouldn't leave. It had settled there since he'd stepped out of that room.

Shinya stared hard ahead. His eyes burnt.

The sound of crass laughter fluttered behind him, all too familiar, and Shinya found himself running, his feet carrying him along the snow-covered cobblestone, and he neglected to give navigate them. He only ran, the burn in his eyes cascading its heat down his cold cheeks in bitter-tasting liquid, staining cold cheeks and dripping on a bottom lip which he bit in a continued effort to keep silent, to not give voice to the pained sounds locked within his chest, clenching his throat when they were refused their release.

Shinya wished the tears didn’t fall. He wished they never gathered in his eyes in the first place. He prayed, tried with all his might to get used to it. The neglect, the loneliness, the fear. Perhaps he had, yet he couldn’t help letting it get to him at times. He was only thirteen years of age, he did not deserve this, did he? He'd seen boys his age, raised as nobles like him, but they looked happy, they carried themselves with pride and cheer. 

Shinya tried to feel those emotions too, relentlessly searched for things, anything to give him relief in the castle which held so much elegance and beauty, the most beautiful of paintings and sculptures, but not a spark of light, not a shred of liveliness.

A prison in all its splendor.

So Shinya ran, pretending that the fading of laughter from his hearing means he's gotten away from the chains that bind him unwilling to the palace. Then again, it's not as though he has anywhere else to be, nowhere to be accepted.  Though here, it was more tolerance than acceptance.

Chest burning and head swimming, he stopped running when he reached a spacious building by the back of the castle. He fell against its wall, sliding down panting, his legs shaking, unable to support his weight after such a sudden exertion in the frigid air. He shifted, hugging his knees, trying to even his breathing with slow exhales. Once his chest felt lighter, the pounding of his heart ceased, he leant back, sniffing, raising a hand to wipe his face.

Too caught up with himself, he didn't the crunch of approaching steps. Almost jumping, his hand fell down and he whipped his head to a side when a voice called out.

"What're you doing over there?" 

Shinya blinked, absent-mindedly noting the single tear that escaped his right eye at the motion. Further away from him a boy stood, looking about the same age as him. Upon first look it was clear he was some sort of servant, given the plain clothes he wore. They weren't dirty tatters which he would sometimes hear from the maids say the poor wore when he would ask them how the people in the towns looked, but they certainly did not look like the clothes of nobles. The boy's hair was dark, and his eyes… his eyes were very pretty, Shinya noticed, as the boy came closer, wearing a disinterested expression. They were purple, looking similar to the precious amethysts of the necklace Mahiru had worn last night.

"Oi, I asked you a…" the boy paused, seeming to take a good look at Shinya, and his face seemed to morph into an unpleasant expression then. He glanced away for a moment, muttering something that Shinya did not hear under his breath. 

Shinya blinked, then realized the tears might possibly still be visible on his face. Quickly wiping them away, he stood from his position-undignified, Kureto would certainly call it-and quickly smiled.

"Ah, sorry, am I getting in your way?" he asked gently. He'd never been harsh with servants. Indeed, he spoke to them more often than he did to his 'family'.

In response, the dark-haired boy looked at him in surprise. Shinya waited for him to speak again, and when he didn't, offered another word of his own, "Is there something wrong?"

At first, the boy didn't reply. Then he simply shrugged, and looked away again, "Nah. I've just never seen a noble talk so politely to a lower dog." he stated drily, no hint of respect or  reverence with which most subordinates often spoke to the royal family with. In fact, there was an underlying note of spite in his voice, discreet, but shinya heard it anyway.

Raising his brows in surprise, Shinya tilted his head to a side. Somehow, his smile felt more real on his lips when he spoke again, "Oh? Well, I've also never been spoken to so impolitely before." 

Unlike the other boy, Shinya was less bored and more amused now, regarding the dark-haired servant who only rolled his eyes at him in reply. 

"Yeah well, sorry, your highness." the title was rolled off the dark-haired boy's tongue with clear sarcasm this time, "Not all of us are decked in nice war coats resting in our cozy beds all morning like you." a confused frown pulled itself on his face then, "Why are you here anyway?"

Shinya paused for a moment. If he were honest, he'd say he was offended with the way the servant boy so selfishly assumed he had a nice morning just because he was a noble. Still, it was understandable why he seemed so bitter. Shinya knew well about the treatment servants received. But right now, Shinya was not quite bothered with such things. No, he was more interested in this encounter. This… fresh feeling he was having, as he felt his smile widen at the boy. 

"Well… this and that happened. Say, what's your name?" he asked.

Seeming to be a little taken aback by the excitement lacing both Shinya's words and expression, he flushed a little and glanced aside again, "Uh… Guren."

"Guren." Shinya replied, nodding in what seemed to be an expression of approval. He smiled, and then raised his hand, "It's nice to meet you, Guren! I’m Shinya."

Guren frowned at the offered hand for a moment, then hesitantly raised his own dirtier one. But before their palms could touch, he suddenly seemed to become startled by a realisation, and he looked up with widened eyes.

"Shinya? Like the prince?"

Shinya giggled at that. He'd never been fond of the title, or rather, he did not care for it, but somehow, the shocked way with which Guren phrased it made something flutter inside him.

"Yes, like the prince. Now shake my hand, Guren! It's impolite to just leave a prince's hand hanging in the air like that!" Despite the words, Shinya didn’t wait for the dark-haired boy, and simply reached out his hand and took his, shaking it.

Guren cringed and squeezed his hand back a little. Shinya kept his smile, and kept his grip firmly, shaking their hands between them more. And more. And then some more, until Guren finally snapped and yanked his hand back, "Enough already!" 

In response, the white-haired prince sneakered. He shifted his weight to one foot, having half a mind to tease him about his lack of etiquette, but opted to ask instead, "Where do you work, Guren?" 

Guren frowned and crossed his arms, almost looking unwilling to answer, but did so anyway, "… the stables." 

"I see." Shinya nodded his head, eyes wide, as if the information provided to him was something particularly intriguing. His lips formed an 'o' when an idea sprung in his head, which was already cleared of any difficult thoughts that had been occupying it just minutes ago, "So, were working just now?"

"Why are you asking?" the exasperated reply came with an almost suspicious gaze.

Shinya merely smiled and rocked back on his heels, "Just answer."

"… No. Anyway, why don’t you-"

"Great! Then you should take me riding."

A long pause came after the request. 

"… Are you serious?" Guren asked flatly, after staring at him blankly for several moments.

"Hm?" Shinya tilted his head, still smiling, "Why shouldn't I be?"

"I… damn it, you're not going to leave unless I agree, are you?"

"No." Shinya replied sweetly to the frustrated question.

"… Seriously, it's cold-" 

"Ahaha~" 

They rode on a white horse.

Of Guren's choosing, though he seemed like he could careless. Nevertheless Shinya stood before the stallion and admired the graceful creature, until Guren urged him to climb up already, having seated himself atop the stud horse. The complaints were rather loud when Shinya complied, only to latch onto the dark-haired boy's waist immediately, but they were eventually quitted down with an exasperated sigh before the dark-haired boy pulled on the reigns, urging the horse on.

They rode up the hills residing the back of the castle. The tall trees that had once formed a green ceiling with their thick branches and leaves now formed an ethereal sight of pallor, matching the thick carpet of snow on frozen grass. 

Tightening his grip around the stable boy's waist, Shinya leaned his chin on his shoulder with a giggle, "Hey, Guren." 

"What?" the reply came out sounding less gruff than the words Guren spoke to him before, which made the white-haired boy tilt his head in interest. Maybe the ride had relaxed him. 

"Don't you think we look like a couple? Like those stories were the princess is saved by her peasant lover!"

"I wouldn't save a 'princess' as annoying as you." 

Shinya pouted, though he was sure the other boy couldn't see it, "So Guren would not save me if I was in danger?" 

"No. Why would I?"

"…" 

"… Okay, fine. Maybe I'll save you if you were dying." 

"Thanks a lot." Shinya rolled his eyes, sighing, "Guren is very cruel."

"Yeah, probably. I'll drop you off the horse on the way too."

"Eh~" Shinya huffed, but even so, he could see the faint pull of a smile on Guren's face when he leaned to a side to look at him.

"Sorry, you choose the wrong peasant to try to woo." 

"Is Guren challenging me?"

"Nah, you're enough of a pain as it is." 

"You're just saying that because you know I can make you fall in love with me if I wanted." 

"As if." 

The playful banter continued, and it was like Shinya was breathing for the first time in his life. It was like the chains had snapped, like the collar bound around his neck was cut. He felt free, and his chest seemed to inflate with an emotion he couldn't put a name on, but it felt so much like that one foreign feeling that he didn't think he'd ever truly felt in his life.

Happiness.

Clear, unbidden joy. Genuine cheer that made a smile curl his lips, more natural than any of the ones he'd painted on his face before. There were no formalities needed now, no concealed scorn and forced respect in the grin Guren gave him when his own laughter finally ran unbidden.

Shinya didn't think he ever truly knew disappointment when it finally occurred to him that eventually he had to go back, back into his cage, a reminder brought to him by his dark-haired companion. 

"We'll have to go back now." The words were sudden, and there was no more amusement or exasperation in the stable boy's voice. He sounded almost sullen.

"Oh…" was all Shinya said, as the reigns were pulled, the horse stirred back towards the direction of the stables. He licked his lips, and gathered himself however, cheerfully starting the conversation again. He still had time while they were riding back after all. 

But the time passed sooner than he'd expected, and before long--not long enough--they're at the stables again, and Guren has dismounted the horse, looking up at him expectedly afterwards.

Shinya bit his lip, then smiled broadly. He stretched his one hand towards Guren, looking back at him with a similar gaze, though his was filled with clear amusement as well.

"What now?" Guren said after a moment of confused silence, sighing and running his fingers through his dark hair. 

"Help me down, Guren!" Shinya chirped 

"Help yourself." The cold command was accompanied by a roll of violet eyes. 

"If you don't help me, I'm not getting down." The prince stated simply, and nearly cackled when Guren finally snapped.

"Why the hell do you have to be so difficult?!" Despite his outburst, the dark-haired boy held firmly onto the reigns with one hand and reached another to grab Shinya's outstretched one anyway, grasping the gloved palm in his own bare, cold one, and Shinya shivered slightly at the contact as he lifted himself off the saddle.

Once he had his feet securely on the ground, Shinya inhaled a little. He glanced down, at the hand he still held in his own, and licked his lips, wondering if it was alright, to speak the words formed in his mind, to do what he felt compelled to. What he wanted. He'd never asked for much in his life, and the world never offered him anything more than an empty title and loneliness, so perhaps, this much was alright? Perhaps god, he whom the kingdom prayed to every winter at the celebrations, would allow him something on this blessed morning after all? 

"Oi." 

He was startled by Guren's voice. Head snapping up to look at the dark-haired boy, Shinya wondered when he'd let his gaze fall down, and upon seeing the concerned frown across Guren's face, he realised he must've let the depressing thoughts show on his face. 

"Are you okay?" Shinya allowed the happy smile to plaster itself on his face, and he nodded quickly.

"Yes!" 

Guren raised an eyebrow, and Shinya knew his reply was far too quick, almost instinctive, but let it go anyway. A part of Shinya almost wished he hadn't.

"Alright… so let go of my hand."

Ah, so straightforward. 

Shinya laughed. He didn’t dislike it. 

With a bright smile, he proceeded to raise his other hand up, fist closed with only his little finger uncurled.

"Then Guren should promise me that he'll take me riding again first." 

As he'd come to expect, the dark-haired boy sputtered, "What?"

"You'll have to take me riding again tomorrow. And the day after that too. And the one after that. And next week. And--"

"Fine! I get it." Shinya laughed once more, watching as the stable boy's face flushed and he looked away, hesitantly raising  his own hand to curl his pinkie around the prince's, "I promise I'll take you riding with me until your royal ass is satisfied. So please, fuck off already."

"Geez~" Shinya sighed dramatically, ignoring the way his chest fluttered at the words, "Guren is so rude. But it's okay. Since you promised to be my friend now, I'll teach you how to be polite too."

Guren's face darkened and he scoffed, "I didn't say I'm going to be your friend." 

"But you just did! You just said 'Shinya, I promise to be your most loyal friend and serve you until you're satisfied'!"

"Don't put words in my mouth!"

"Ahaha~" At last, though he wished he could've held on a little longer, Shinya  released the other boy's hand, turning around and beginning to jog away, but not without turning to look at the still scowling Guren with a wave, "See you tomorrow, Guren!" 

He made his way back to the palace, entering through the grand gates, walking in the elaborate hallways back to his room, carrying a smile that for once felt genuine and not a mere force of habit. It was a good feeling.

"Shinya."

The voice made him freeze momentarily, pausing in his steps. 

He exhaled silently, then turned, expression gentle, "Yes, big brother?" 

Kureto approached him, closing the door of the music room behind himself. A part of Shinya was a little disappointed. He liked to hear him play. His big brother did so well on the piano and violin, unlike Shinya who didn't quite have the talent for such things, his fingers not as deft, though he sometimes wondered how someone who seemed as cold as his older brother could play such passionate songs. He often played so well on these mornings, and Shinya would often stop by the music room, standing next to the half-open door and listen to him play until his brother would invite him in, never once losing the rhyme of his song. 

It was one of the few instances in which he'd feel at ease, especially when next to one of his siblings.

Now, however, something about Kureto's expression seemed wrong. He did not look so relaxed, like he often would when Shinya would follow him out of the music room. He stood before him after few strides--at fifteen, he was already tall in comparison to other boys his age--and Shinya nearly flinched when his hand was grabbed and raised. He did not allow the movement, though he did grow rigid upon feeling the warmth of Kureto's palm on his own still cold one.

Kureto's other hand came up, and Shinya swallowed when it pushed his sleeve back, red eyes focusing on a blackened bruise a little further up his wrist. 

The older prince's brows furrowed more. 

"Where did you get this come from?" 

"Ah," Shinya exhaled a little, giving an experimental tug on his hand, and wasn't surprised when Kureto refused to release him, "I fell down, while I was playing outside.'' 

Kureto's eyes--sharp, a little browner than Mahiru's, a unique shade of their own--raised to look at him, still narrowed, doubtful and speculative. Shinya has never been good at lying to him. His big brother always saw through him too well. Unfortunate, for Shinya felt the need to lie too him far too often.

"Did you?"

"Yes. Why would I lie about this?"

His hand was grasped a little tighter, as Kureto's brows furrowed even more, "I don't know, Shinya. Why would you?" 

"Big brother…" Shinya licked his lips, glancing away, "I'm really telling the truth." 

"Will Seishirou say the same thing if I ask him?"

"…" 

"Shinya." 

"Yes."

Promptly, his hand was dropped, and Kureto turned to walk in a different direction, "Then I will go ask him." 

He almost whined for him not to, to just let it go. But he didn't, because why would he? In the end, either Kureto will scold him, or Seishirou will give him yet more bruises. It would not be the very first occurrence of such thing.

So Shinya trailed back to his room, and shut the door, intent on thinking about the stable boy until it was time for dinner. And even afterwards, until the next morning when he'd see him again. 

(Insults and derogatory words aside, Seishirou rarely made to beat him again after that morning.)

*****************

He woke earlier than he'd usually do.

He woke up, and was out of bed quickly, unheeding of the tiredness from last night, when Mahiru had beaten him quite well at the brawl. He washed and dressed, took a glance at himself in the mirror, and stepped outside his room. He had to be silent then, though, as he walked slowly through the hallways, avoiding servants and any familiar carnelian eyes accompanied by lilac-coloured hair, or ink black ones. It was impossible not to be seen, but he was friendly with some servants, often ones that did not directly serve his siblings. He made his way outside, carrying a pure smile, excited, elated. 

Today was a special day to him, after all. 

He made his way towards the stables, a path already well-learnt, given how often he would take it in the past year. Much more often than he would before the last morning of Christmas day. Though he certainly loved the animal, he did not particularly enjoy riding horses. Rather, he only enjoyed as much as he'd enjoy other studies required of him as a prince. The sport was something he learnt only because he had to. It was why he only knew how to do it so well, unlike Kureto who excelled in it, and Mahiru who went beyond even him. 

And it hadn't changed. Shinya still remained as good as he used to be. Because often he would not be the one to stir the horses. Sometimes, he would not even mount them.

It wasn't the horses that he liked to see, as lovely as the creatures were. The one Shinya wished to see was…

"Guren!"

The happy call of his name had the dark-haired boy turning, his face momentarily looking surprised before he rolled his eyes as Shinya reached him, "Did you wake up extra early today to annoy me?"

Shinya huffed, crossing his arms, "Rude. I did wake up for Guren, but it's because it's a special day today."

"Yeah." Guren nodded absent-mindedly, as he went back to running the brush over the mare's hair, "It's Christmas day."

"Yes, okay, but that's not what I mean. 

"Yeah…" 

Irritated, Shinya kicked his ankle, "Gu~re~n!" 

"What?"

"Pay attention to me when I'm talking."

"I'm working."

"Don't work. How can you look away when I'm standing here? It's because I look so dazzling right?" 

"It's because your face pisses me off. And I'm working." 

Shinya pouted, "I'm more important than your work. 

"…"

A long sigh came, before Guren turned to him, "What is it?" 

In response, Shinya's face fell even more. Which made Guren stiffen.

"Er… are you okay?"

"No." Shinya tightened his grip in front of his chest, looking away.

"…"

"Guren, you idiot!" He said at last, turning to the stable boy with a glare.

"Today is the anniversary of the first time we met."

Silence settled once more, as Guren stared at him blankly. Shinya scowled back at him.

"… That's it?" the dark-haired boy blinked.

"Don't 'that's it' me. It's supposed to be special."

"It is?"

"Yes. Because, you're my first friend."

And the only one, but Shinya decided not to mention that. Instead he sighed, feeling disappointment welling up inside him as he dropped his hands to his side. He felt… well, he knew he might've been too excited. Still, this day was special to him, and he'd thought it might be to Guren though, because… because they were friends, even if Guren was gruff and a little insensitive sometimes. Shinya knew he was a kind person though, could see the way he'd end up smiling at some point or anther when Shinya would show up next to him, either asking to for a ride or just hanging around him. The guards never cared much to see where he went or what he did, given that he always came back unharmed, though Kureto sometimes asked too many questions, some that Shinya wished not to answer. It was stupid, but he liked to think of the time he spent with Guren as… as his own. Guren was his friend.

And Shinya knew he will receive questions today too, if he didn't go back now. He might miss breakfast, or be late. And no one would care, but Kureto would still ask.

He began to turn, deciding that… well, Guren was working, and he could come back to him later, after breakfast, so he could spare himself his older brother's questioning. And then, he'll forget that he felt hurt by Guren too. He had half a mind to display anger, but it would make him even more depressed.

His wrist was grabbed before he could take a step.

He turned his head, surprised, as he looked at Guren's face, flushed with his eyes trained aside.

"Just…" the dark-haired boy started, still not looking at him, "Wait a minute. I'll go get a horse."

Shinya blinked as his hand was dropped, Guren retreating further inside the stables. He slowly felt a smile blooming on his face again. He distantly recognized that maybe he should feel guilty about pulling Guren away from his work, he may get a scolding later. He didn't, though. Really, he thought, Guren out to be thankful to him. No one had to work hard on Christmas Day after all. Everyone should be allowed to laze away, regardless of whom they worked for. He could always use his title to get Guren out  of trouble. Shinya will never become king, but his rank as a royal prince did have its benefits.

Soon, Guren was back, holding the reigns of a horse. A white horse. Shinya giggled.

Guren scowled, his cheeks flushing a little again. He turned and climbed up the horse gracefully, then gestured for him,.

"Don't laugh and get on. Before I change my mind." 

"Okay~" Shinya sang, as he followed suit. 

They rode up to the same path they always took. Up to the woods and hills behind the castle. Whenever Shinya would come at later times, when the sun had already set, Guren refused to take him anywhere, saying something about not wanting the responsibility of a dead prince on his hands. They rarely met at those times though, as the stables would already be closed. Guren knew their riding spot well, as Shinya found, when the dark-haired boy told him he would sometimes come here to laze off, at which Shinya had responded with a teasing remark, of course.

Today, Shinya noticed they took a different turn. His arms involuntarily tightened around the other boy's waist--he could hold himself upright just by putting a hand on Guren's shoulder, the servant boy never stirring the horse too fast, but Shinya it annoyed him when he held on like that, so he did it anyway, even after Guren stopped complaining about it--and looked stared forward with wide eyes. 

"Where are we going, Guren?" He asked curiously 

"Just be quiet and wait."

They stop by a frozen lake. 

Just like every winter, the once stark green grass was concealed by a sheet white. The trees had leafless, crystalline braches bent, looming above the glacial water. This season had been particularly brutal. Still, it was a beautiful sight to behold, well worth the chill of the winds. Even more so, since it was Guren who'd showed him this place. 

"It's…" Guren started, after they've dismounted the, one hand shoved in his pocket and the other one tightening on the reigns, "Nothing special, but--"

Shinya cut him off with a soft laugh and sweetly spoken "It's beautiful."

An inaudible mumble came in reply, followed by a muttered you're welcome when Shinya, in the same tone as earlier, said, "Thank you."

Silence followed that, broken only by the occasional noise from the stallion. Shinya found it comfortable, for once not feeling the need to flood the space between them with words of curiosity, sincerity, or playfulness. No, he decided, for now the sure presence of Guren next him was enough.

Eventually, though, he cut the silence short, turning his head towards Guren and asking a question which he wondered why he'd hadn't asked of him before 

"Hey, Guren, what did you do last night?" 

"Huh?" 

"Last night was the celebrations. I know the townspeople have them too. Did you go there?" He tilted his head with a smile, watching Guren's expression change in realisation. 

The dark-haired boy shifted a little, glancing up at the sky thoughtfully, "Well, yeah." 

"And what did you do? Tell me things people do there." 

So Guren did. He told him about prayers in the local church, and the singing of traditional songs. He told him about children playing snowballs out in the streets, given homemade candies by passing ladies. He talked about family dinners, eaten next at a small table shared by relatives. About a story being told by his father at the fireplace, rolling his eyes as he said how boring it was, but Shinya had never seen so much affection in his eyes than when he talked about his ailing parent.

The prince listened with more attentiveness than he'd ever done to his own lessons, given by educated governesses. Something welled inside him, and he couldn't put a good word on it. It was something like longing, a little similar to envy, mixed with warm admiration. He watched the pull of an amused smile on Guren's lips told him how spoke of his drunk neighbor inviting himself in their house, thinking of it as his own, and how his mother had chased him out with a broom, and Shinya felt almost shy then, as if he was bearing witness to something he shouldn't. 

Suddenly, Guren seemed to caitch himself, and he looked away in what looked like embarrassment, "Well, there you go. Anyway shouldn't we go back? It's getting dark." 

"Will you take me to town someday, Guren?" 

The servant paused, as he'd been about to turn to climb back on the horse. He gave raised a brow at Shinya, who only smiled gently at him in return, hands behind his back. The prince wondered if he was finally asking for too much. He certainly was. Still, he wanted to hear Guren's answer. 

"Don't you have your own fancy parties in the palace?" 

Tapping his foot on the snow, he kept his tone light as he answered, "Yes, but I want to celebrate with Guren." 

He neglected saying how he never really found much entertainment in those overly formal and ostentatious events. Or any at all.

"Tch." A roll of violet eyes, but Guren didn't sound irritated as he replied, "It's not like you'll take no for an answer." 

"No, I won't." Shinya laughed, grinning as he continued, "So, next year?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Say 'yes, your highness. I will serve you whenever you wish it for it'."

"Just get your ass on the horse already, your highness. 

(That night, the prince dreamt of seeing snowballs thrown and the local songs resounding in the streets. Of a simple dinner and a story by the fireplace. He dreamt of a warm hand holding his own, leading him through merry crowds.)

***************

It was just before dinner when Shinya made his way outside the doors of the grand celebration hall.

He hadn't meant to take so long, and felt guilty about it, for he knew he'd made Guren wait for a while outside. He was certain that by now, they probably missed some, if not most of the festivities. Still, Guren had also said that the town was lively till the wee hours of the nights, so Shinya was happy all the same at the thought of making it there, dangerous as it would be. He only hoped Guren had not grown tired or left him. Shinya wouldn't blame him if he did, but he would certainly sulk about it the next day.

He made his way down the hallways quietly, intending to go to his own room first, to fetch himself a heavier coat and a cloak. The corridors were mostly quiet and barren of people, save for the servants making their way about making sure the party was going perfectly. As the sound of chatter coming from the hall faded from his hearing, Shinya allowed himself to relax a little more. At least he was away from the watchful eyes of guests and aristocrats.

Or he'd thought so, until the sound of skidding steps came, followed by a thump and a grunt.

Breath catching in his throat momentarily, Shinya forced himself to calm down, turning to look behind him, expression placid, betraying nothing of the apprehension growing inside him. 

Further down the hallway, fallen to his knees and struggling to stand up straight, was a man. A nobleman, to be specific, clear in his well-dressed, albeit ungraceful figure. He stumbled to his feet at last, one hand placed on the wall for support, and it didn't take much thought to tell that he was quite a bit drunk. Taking a good look at his face, Shinya recognised him as one of his father's newer advisors. He wasn't very old, perhaps in his early to mid-thirties, or maybe he just looked younger than his age. Either way, the prince didn't quite care. He never bothered with politics, nor would he ever have any say in them.

"Ah, prince!" The man called, and something in his elated tone made Shinya uncomfortable. Still, he forced himself to stay civil, the genial smile staying on his face.

"Yes? Is there something you need, good sir?" He asked, not making an attempt at remembering the inebriated man's name. 

The man beamed. Well, Shinya thought, at least he looked quite the happy drunk, rather than a violent one. It would be harder to deal with that kind. He tapped his foot on the floor, wishing a servant would show up already, to lead the man away.

"Yes! Yes indeed. There's--there's something I need to tell your highness." He stumbled closer to Shinya, the boy instinctively taking a step back when he came too close, the stench of alcohol making him cringe. The man didn't seem to notice, hands fumbling with something in his pockets. At last, he seemed to find it, clumsy, gloved fingers extracting a small, velvet blue box from his coat.

"Ah, there it is! The cursed thing!" The man mumbled to himself, then looked up at Shinya with a grin, who stared back in confusion, more than just uneasy now. The man offered the box up, opening it as he declared 

"Your highness! I have decided! Your highness must marry me!"

Dear lord...

Taking a deep breath, Shinya gave a placating smile, "Ah… I think you've just had too much to drink, sir. Let me call you a servant."

He begun to turn, intending to just scurry off, but suddenly, the awful smell of too much alcohol was near right next to him, the man almost throwing him down to the ground as he stumbled to reach him, and crashed against his back on the way.

He quickly righted himself, grabbing at Shinya's arms, and yanking him around.

"No!" He declared, and then slurred a laugh, "I… I must put the ring on your finger." He looked around in realization then, his eyes catching sight of the velvet box dropped by his feet. He promptly let go of Shinya's forearms, bending down to pick up the box.

Shinya ran.

He turned, and sprinted down the hallway, intent on getting away from the nobleman. Not because he feared him--he was strong enough to handle an intoxicated man--but because he needed to go out already, before someone came to look for him, or possibly, before Guren left him. He could careless of that drunken advisor who, in fact, he'd rather not see him for a long while. Or at all. 

Upon taking up the grand flight of stairs leading up towards his room, he allowed himself to relax slightly. Given that on that particular floor, the prince and princess' rooms resided, there were no one in sight, as said members of royalty were downstairs in the celebration hall, and their rooms were not required to be cleaned for the reminder of the night, until the party was over, at which time a specific maid would be sent to attend to them. Still, Shinya kept himself wary. But not wary enough.

Just as he'd arrived up the last few stairs, his eyes caught sight of the grandfather clock by the wall opposing him. His eyes widened, once seeing how late it was. Intent on speeding up again, he quickly stomped up the remaining steps and proceeded to swiftly round the corner.

Just as fast, he crashed into a solid frame, and found himself sprawled on the floor.

Groaning in pain, which mainly sparked from his bottom as he'd landed rather painfully on it, Shinya lifted himself into a sitting position, legs tucked to one side. He looked up, right into the gaze of carnelian eyes.

It took a moment for him to realise that he'd just been caught by the worst possible person.

Or maybe I can…

"Shinya, what are you doing up here?" Kureto frowned at him, but he didn't seem irritated, merely curious. He outstretched his hand towards Shinya. The white-haired boy hesitantly accepted it, letting the older boy help him up to his feet.

Withdrawing his hands, Shinya tucked both palms behind his back, pursing his lips and casually responded, "I could ask you the same thing."

"Then answer you older brother first." Kureto replied primly, crossing his arms against his chest, patiently waiting for his answer.

Shinya had to struggle to keep his eyes on his brother. It was always the first sign, Kureto had bluntly told him sometime ago, of when he was trying to lie to his eldest sibling. The way he'd always glance away from his gaze.

"It's just…" He waved his hand a little, not dropping his smile, "I just felt like getting away from the crowd a little."

Shinya was relieved when Kureto nodded his head in acceptance afterwards. It did not last long, however.

"Very well. Go fetch your coat and we'll take a walk outside."

"Ah!" Shinya gasped, "You don't need to come with me. Should you not go back to the party? Big brother always scolds me about my lack of manners," he paused to pout, "But there he goes!"

Kureto raised an eyebrow, "I will decide whether I need to go back or not."

"Selfish big brother."

"Aren't I?"

Shinya licked his lips, finally giving in and looking away. He realised with alert that he had not checked the celebration hall to see where his brother was. If he had, perhaps he would not be trapped in this situation.

"I appreciate big brother's offer but… I'd like to spend sometime alone."

"Alone?"

The word was spoken with dry suspense, and Shinya himself go rigid. His flashed his gaze back at his brother, who stared at him calculatingly. Pinpricks of fear and apprehension spread in his chest, but he forced himself not to display it. After all, it was within their family's code of conduct to always keep your emotions reigned. Shinya was taught well. Even so, he was no longer smiling now, expression blanked.

"What are you trying to say, big brother?" He asked carefully, just a little coldly, to show that he was in no way willing to buckle under his piercing stare.

Though it was clear that the conversation way no longer remain civil, Kureto kept his movements casual, leaning his side against the wall.

"You've become quite the outdoors enthusiast. I also hear you enjoy horse-riding lately. I'm merely curious as to what brought such change in your interests."

Shinya pursed his lips, clenching his hands as Kureto smirked.

"What's with that look, Shinya? Is there something upsetting about what I'm asking you? Don't stand so rigidly, and why are you glaring at me?" He moved closer, and if possible, Shinya stiffened even more as his brother grasped him by his tense shoulders, running his hands down his arms, reaching his hands and worming his fingers through Shinya's, forcing him to uncurl his fist.

Shinya willed himself to stay still when Kureto refused to drop his palms, "I just happened to start enjoying the sport. Is there something strange about that?"

"Really? And there's no other reason? No… interesting person that turned your attention?"

Shinya felt his brow twitch, "Even if there was, it wouldn't be any of big brother's business, would it?" He said flatly, the challenge subtle in his tone, "I'm old enough to take care of myself."

Kureto laughed at his words, and the younger boy nearly snapped then. He despised it when Kureto acted this way. Like he knew better. Like Shinya was inferior, and couldn't decide what would benefit him, how to keep himself out of harm's way.

"Is there something amusing about what I said?" Shinya asked stiffly, with underlying sarcasm, "Please, share the joke, big brother."

The older prince merely shook his head, chuckling again, "No. Rather, it's adorable."

"… I'm not a child, Kureto."

His older brother arched a brow, then slowly smiled. His hands dropped Shinya's, at last, and he stepped away from him.

"Then," he said, as he rounded him, "Be the very responsible adult that you are, and don't sneak away from the public. Come back to the celebration with me, Shinya."

He froze, gaping.

"B—you can't just—"

"I can. And I just did." Kureto did not stop, calling to him authoritatively without so much as a glance over his shoulder, "Come, Shinya."

Like thick liquid in a glass, Shinya felt himself filling to the brim with frustration. With anger, and so much unwanted resignation. Because Ehe knew. As much as he wished to be ignorant, to put up a valiant, blind effort to struggle, there was no denying the truth. There was no use in fooling himself into believing that he could disobey his brother. His older, wiser, so much stronger brother.

It was times like this, when the days where he'd sit with Kureto in the music room and listen to him play, the days where the older boy would come to his room and gently pet his head when he was sick, would swiftly fade from his memory. Become lost in the bitter blend of of desperate longing and fierce, far fetched dreams of independence.

His feet carry him forward, after his brother, down the stairs. Though he has given up before even trying to fight, he still makes sure to spit, "I hate you."

There was no answer given to his biting declaration.

That night, he goes to his bed and thinks of a dark with dark hair and amethyst eyes, sees his figure walk away into the distance, and almost cries. He drifts into sleep, promising himself to give a sincere apology the following morning, and telling himself it will be accepted.

The next morning, he doesn't see Guren, and is told he's fallen sick with a cold. He could only bite his lip then, as the other stable boy gives him a note which said:

Next year, I'm gonna kidnap your royal ass from you cozy castle to town, and ditch you there so you freeze your ass off in the streets.

He laughed.

*********************

Shinya stared at the clear sheet of ice covering the very edge of the lake, pondering and for once, letting silence hang between him and his servant friend. He wondered absently about just how cold it would feel, to dip his hand into the lake right now, and shivered a little at the thought. He tapped his foot on the ice, hugging his knees tighter, mind swimming further down into a sea of trivial questions. Perhaps he ought to think of other things. Perhaps he should think of how strangely silent the palace was this morning. Perhaps he should wonder how the towns, if they are also quiet, or maybe even… 

"Oi!" 

He's startled, head snapping towards Guren, who scowls at him.

"Why did you even drag me here today if you were just gonna sit down and space out?" 

Shinya licked his lips, glancing down momentarily as the other boy scoffed. His eyes found Guren's hand, resting over his thigh, and he wished he was brave enough to reach out and hold it.

He looked back towards the frozen edge of the lake instead. 

"Sorry." He said, laughing a little, "But you know, you should be a lot nicer to me today, Guren. You should kiss my hand and hold me while I cry on your chest. After all," he had to pause, hoping his exhale wasn't audible, "My sister just passed away." 

A sweet way of phrasing the truth of her death. Then again, Shinya was told not to tell, and he found no reason to do so. It would be better. For Guren to never know the dirty dealing of the royalty. 

"I thought you said you weren't close to her."

"Well, yes, but…" Shinya took a deep breath, and still couldn't help but bite his lip.

"It's… It's just that it feel weird. It's… like when you walk into your room and you just know there is something out of place. And it feels weird because you didn't notice it before but it's not there anymore and you just—"

"Shinya."

Ah, I'm messing up, aren't I?

He kept his gaze stubbornly trained forward.

"Why are you so upset?"

"… Ahaha, I don't know what—"

"Don't give me bullshit." A hand was closed over his shoulder then, forcefully turning him around. He had o bite his lip again, as he met Guren's eyes, narrowed but lacking anger. He bit his lip again then, chewing at it, and took a shuddering sigh.

"It's just… Mahiru committed suicide."

The shock was visible. Wide-eyed, the servant boy looked at him in surprise. Shinya looked down then, smiling sadly.

"She was… She was strong, Guren. Stronger than anyone I've ever seen. Anyone who saw her said she's perfect. She was powerful, and beautiful and…" He laughed a little, but it sounded choked, and he hardly his hands clenching, "And yet she gave in. She just…she had so much, but she said she wanted her freedom. She loved someone and wanted them. She had everything but that. And in the end… She…"

Collapsed in the middle of her own bed, a long, frightening dagger slicing her flesh, embedded in her heart. Radiant, but never more tragic. They said she had been intoxicated, by an unknown assailant. A lie that couldn't have possibly been more crystal clear. 

Mahiru. Strong, unbeatable Mahiru was fallen. 

How would it been that he, like fragile rose petals in comparison to her poisoned thorns, could live?

I too found love… But neither of us will ever find happiness…

The back of his head was grabbed in a rough grip.

 Shinya's eyes widened, as his face was soon pressed against the cheap leather of Guren's winter coat. The dark-haired boy's hand stayed atop his head, keeping it there, resting over his shoulder.

"So?" He almost sounded bored as he spoke, "So what if she did? Do you want to mourn her? Then do it. Cry all you want. But don't look like a scared chicken. Do you want me to hit you?"

Shinya bit his lip, brows furrowing in frustration, but his face going warmer. There, with his face against Guren's shoulder, his chest clenched, tightening as a flood of emotions swam in it, ultimately constricting his breath a little. He'd wished, hoped, fell in love with the thought of being close like this to Guren. To experience his affection, regardless of any gruff words he'd speak. His own hands reached out, and then held on, tight and firm on the black coat. He buried his face in the other boy's shoulder, and let out a shaking sigh.

Still, he was irritated. He was angry, because Guren did not understand. He didn't know, and Shinya wouldn't let him know, and yet he selfishly wished that he could bring himself to tell him, to make him understand— 

"There's not gonna be any celebrations next week, right? Come with me."

Oh, Guren…

He couldn't help the laughter that escaped him.

"I wish I could."

I wish I could come with you, and just have you take me away.

He was not selfish enough to ask that of him.

"Brother Kureto is busy with ceremonial planning today, and he's probably beside himself with joy as well. But once the burial is over, until the next week… I won't be allowed to leave the palace." 

Guren was silent then.

They stayed like that, leaning against each other, sharing warmth but not truly at ease, neither of them. Shinya still, held onto the other's coat with desperate fingers. He wished that he never had to let go. He wished they could, indeed, come even closer. Closer, with both of Guren's arms around him. Closer, and uncaring of the world around them.

Closer, so maybe, Shinya could pretend they will last forever.

It's not long before he has to let go. 

He broke away, and it's almost as if the movement startled Guren. Shinya laughed a little, hating how, even after being held by him, the tight knot within his chest refused to disappear.

"I need to go back now. It's almost time for my afternoon lessons." He said, almost hurriedly, as he stood up and shook away the snow clinging to him. Guren followed suit, but Shinya refused to meet his gaze, despite feeling the weight of his gaze on him. 

"Well, I'll see Guren… maybe two weeks later?" He giggled, pretending it was a joke, like the thought of staying in his prison without a single day of relief, of seeing the only one whom brought him happiness—temporary as it was—did not make his stomach turn into itself.

Guren did not laugh. 

(Years later, Shinya would look back wistfully, and wish he could've been stronger.)

************************

Guren was already waiting by the lake when he comes, horse reigns tied to the tree which he leant against, hands in his pockets. 

Shinya almost smiled at the sight. Almost. 

It's three nights following the celebrations. The winter this year wasn't quite as cold as the season often was. It remained bitingly cold, however, given this time of the night. He pulled the shawl around himself tighter, hands clenching his hands on the soft, woven fabric. Every step he took made it hard for him to keep looking forward, at the one who stood at the end of his destination.

Every destination. Every single one and yet—

He stopped when he reached him, and looked up through his eyelashes, smiling. Serene, quiet. Everything was quiet. The winds carried no howl, the snow had stopped falling, leaving only a white sheet in its wake. Like every year. Every year, it was the same. The same snowy fields, the same frozen edge of a lake. The tree with bent branches, barren of leaves. 

Four winters had passed since he met Guren. Shinya had loved every single one. Despite everything, he'd loved every single one. 

This time, Shinya trailed down to the same path, knowing that he would have to stop loving the winter.

Who says you have to stop loving it?

So he could live. Shinya had to remind himself, over and over.

"You shouldn't be outside right now." Were the first words spoken, and they were Guren, with his purple-tinted black hair and violet eyes, and Shinya laughed, because of course he'd say that first. He worried too much, always thought too much, and Shinya hoped that tonight, he wouldn't. Tonight, he'd stop thinking of what was right and what was wrong, like Shinya wanted to and couldn't.

"I know. But here I am."

Guren sighed, "Shinya—"

"I missed you, Guren."

Guren stopped, and stared at him. Shinya knew why.

There was bare sincerity in his voice, the heartache within him just nearly laid bare. Not clear enough, but still hinted. The prince shifted, and sighed, and shifted some more. He almost felt uncomfortable in his own body. It was awful. And strange, and Shinya did not want it. He wanted the comfort of childhood cheer, the laughter and the teasing brought by himself, in hot days of summer and cool days of autumn.

"What happened?" Guren was approaching him now, closing the gap between them. He grabbed his arm and shook him, when Shinya stayed silent, "Shinya." 

Shinya shut his eyes, and felt the salt of tears on his lips.

He stepped closer, and wordlessly slipped his arms around the other's neck, pressing his forehead against his shoulder. The same black, cheap leather.

Everything is the same. And so is his prison.

An exhale came from next to him, and then arms were wrapping around him hesitantly, holding him. The shawl dropped off his shoulders, hanging over the circle of Guren's hands on his waist.

"Shinya—"

"Just… just give me a moment, Guren."

A moment to dream. He didn't allow it to last long, and soon after those words, he pulled away, wiping away the tears. He took some steps back, breaking away from Guren, who sighed exasperatedly.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

Shinya had made a vow to be honest tonight.

So he let a small, wavering laugh, and replied, "Nothing that's really unusual… well, there had been some news for me three days ago…

Guren was still frowning. The prince had long decided his friend frowned too much. He wanted to tease him, make him smile, and he almost did, so set on their past routine which had been breaking recently, aggravating him, agonising him with the unwanted change.

"What is it?" 

"… Let's go for a ride first." 

"Shinya!" Guren snapped now, angered, and Shinya could only close his eyes and turn away as he grabbed his shoulders and shook him, "Stop fucking avoiding my questions! What do you mean like usual? I… I know you're an illegitimate son. I know those bastard brothers of yours hurt you. How long do you—" 

"Then you know enough."

He hadn't meant to sound as cold as the winter winds, but perhaps it was for the better. The hands on his shoulders momentarily clenched, then dropped down. Guren turned sharply and walked towards the horse, untying the white stallion's reigns. Shinya opened his eyes, allowing his gaze to be wistful on the other's back until it was turned away from him, as Guren climbed the horse. Shinya followed after him, and there was no response when he held onto his waist, no complain. Utter silence except for the crunch of hooves on snow-filled ground. 

Shinya rested his head on the other's shoulder, closing his eyes.

The silence proves itself to much, and he speaks up soon enough, keeping his eyes closed. 

"There's really no one around?" 

"No. You're the only idiot who'd ask for a horse ride at this time of the night." The reply is sharp, and there's something wrong with his tone. 

I don't want it like this.

He exhales.

"Guren, I'm going to get married." 

 The shoulder which his head is resting on went rigid. But he didn't say anything,  and so Shinya didn't either. 

It wasn't long before Guren makes a turn and they went back to the lake. This time, Shinya opened, and looked around the dreary surroundings. They never looked so grim to him before. He wondered if the night was going to end this way, so silent and solemn. So unlike them, so unlike him.

He wished he could make Guren smile once. Perhaps cause an accident. Perhaps say a joke so awful he,d just laugh at him. He just something to fill the emptiness.

They stopped and Guren promptly dismounted the horse, tied the reigns once more to the tree, and pulled on his hand.

"Get off." 

"Guren, what—" he started to say, as he did so, but Guren did not let go of his hand and dragged him towards the lake, pushing him down to his knee along with himself. The prince stared in confusion as the dark-haired boy dropped of his hand, pulling off the wool gloves he was wearing. Then he dipped his hands in the lake, which made Shinya further bemused. 

Before he knew it, his face was splashed with bitingly cold water. 

He gasped, flinching and falling back on his bottom. He quickly raised an arm to wipe it off, irritation prickling his mind.

"Wha—what are you doing?!" He snapped, glaring up at Guren.

"I could ask you the same question!" the servant boy yelled back, "What the hell are you doing?! What's the point of coming to me like this if you're never going to be honest with me?! You're getting married?! Good for you! How about you stop lying to your friend too?!" 

Shinya flinched at the outburst, pressing his lips together. He looked away from Guren as the other sat back, running a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his throat. 

"… That's exactly why."

"What?" He could feel Guren's still angry eyes on him. He stared at the lake for a few seconds, closed his eyes, then looked back at Guren. 

"That's exactly why." he smiled slightly, "Because I need to see you, I lie. And I… and I have to look like this now. Because I need to see you, and I don't want to go anywhere else when I do."

The silence that followed choked him. It made his insides twist, and he trembled slightly, trying to calm the storm of emotions within him, the the overwhelming intensity of each one barely allowing him not to break down, not crumble underneath the weight of everything.

"Say something." His voice shook, and he looked up, and looked pleadingly, "Guren, say something. It's… it's your fault so say—" 

"I'm sorry." 

And how could he not cry at that whisper? It carried the ending of the letter. The last page of a story. The last petal of a rose blown away by the winds. 

He bit his lip, however. He cried without a sound. Just like before. 

And this time, Guren did not hold him. 

Instead… instead, his hands settled on his cheeks, lifting his head up, and Shinya allowed his eyes to open, having clenched them shut in a vain attempt at stopping the tears. Guren's forehead was just as cold as his own as it pressed to his, when he leant towards him, and whispered again, "I'm sorry." 

"Why?" Shinya chuckled, and again, it was wrong. So so wrong.

"I was never able to tell."

"I never let you." 

"Still." 

"Guren, please, just… just once—" 

"No." 

Shinya fell silent.

"No," Guren repeated, firm and passionate, "Not just once."

He leant down then, and kissed him.

And Shinya was silent again, for his gasp was drowned against the other's lips. Cold and inexperienced, just like his own. But now… now things felt right. This was right. Everything was false, but not this. He did not allow himself to believe otherwise. His title, his wealth. His engagement and his position, they were all works of misfortune. And now, this felt as though finally, God had smiled upon him. 

He reached with his hands, and clung to Guren's sleeves. Black and cheap.

Everything was the same, but reality was slipping from his fingers. He was living the dream he'd wished for to come true so many nights before his sleep. The kiss is clumsy, and its passionate, and it's just like the one in his fantasies.

They had to part then, and Guren looked at him with a resolute gaze.

"Not just once." He repeated, "I won't let you go."

And was that not the most beautiful thing he could ever hear?

*************************

Children liked to read fairy tales and old stories of passionate love, fables written by those who were fortunate and optimistic in their minds. They filled their innocent minds with imagines of life as bright as the sun, achieved through pretty words and a hardened will. Those older and wiser read such stories, but only with wistfulness, for they had learnt by now that no phrase of endearment and no iron resolve could be strong enough to win against all misfortunes of life alone.

Shinya was a prince of seventeen years when he realised the truthfulness of that lesson, when the world gripped him with its icy claws, dug the imprint of its cruelties into his soul. He was less than ten when he first learnt that lesson, and yet he'd only been a child then. He'd believed, with a hopeful heart, that perhaps he was wrong.

It wasn't until his fantasy was shattered that, that he found out even this much naivety would cost him too much a price.

On the fifth winter of meeting Guren, the festivities were high and cheerful, and so much warmer around him.

On that season, Guren took him to his town.

On that night, Shinya lived the most beautiful night of his life.

He was wrapped in a cloak, his hand held in a warm grip. He was led through singing crowds, and stood in a local church, prayers echoing in its old walls. He was taken to eat a feast by a fire, without the glamour of a palace dinner. He was taken to visit the grave of Guren's father, and he held him from behind when he could not help but shed a tear, the wound left from the death of a beloved parent still only two months old, still a little fresh. But Guren had not cried too long, barely spent moments in his grief before he turned, and took Shinya's hand once more, leading him back to the horse.

They went to a meadow, wrapped in warm clothes. They held each other, and kissed.

It all turned into a mere memory far too soon. It turned into a burnt mark within the prince's heart, an imprint of the words it was never meant to be.

Shinya had been dreaming for far too long.

"There he is!"

He wished he hadn't flinched away from that kiss so fast.

But it would not have mattered, how long he'd clung to his stable boy's sleeves, how long Guren had tried to hold him. The arms which grab him are too hard, like steel handcuffs on his arms, tearing him away, dragging him awake.

But Shinya did not believe that this was reality. He did not want to believe that the blood shedding from Guren's hairline was part of his reality.

He'd woken up to a nightmare. And he's screaming, struggling, trying to break away from the claws that drag him again and again towards it, restraining him, barricading him from reaching for his sun again.

Soon enough, however, it occurred to him another cruel realisation. Soon, because it only too so much time before he was within the decorated walls on his room, and he looks part of them as though they each hide a monster's den, that there was not much of a difference.

This prison was his reality, and his reality was his nightmare.

He collapsed on the marble floor as he's shoved inside, and he cried out at the cruelty of it all.

******************

He soon found it who has brought him back to his nightmare.

"Get up from that place. You're going to eat your dinner, Shinya."

Shinya did not look up, did not bother to. He kept his eyes trained on his hands, delicate fingers almost as pale as the white of his pants. Almost as pale as the snow outside, if not as much. He remembered how Guren's skin wasn't quite as light.

He heard footsteps approaching him, and still did not look up. It wasn’t until his chin was grabbed, and raised to force him to stare into carnelian eyes.

"Shinya, respond to me when I speak to you."

He could've laughed.

Instead he merely smiled, and he's sure it's as awful as the black spots of insomnia underneath his eyes.

"Who's the child after all?"

Kureto did not share his humour. Shinya had not intended him to.

His chin was dropped as his older brother stood up.

"You will eat your dinner. Afterwards, you will be escorted to my study."

The echo of the door slamming behind him when he left was like a dirge. It was fitting, after all, Shinya's dreams had been buried.

When he's forced to go to Kureto's study, his brother took his hand in his own, and showed him a little glimpse of them once more.

Shinya had not expected the kindness. He'd stopped expecting anything.

Behind the bars, he stood gazing at dark hair with a hint of purple. And he was choking, when he finally managed to call out.

"Guren…"

There was no response, and he almost broke down then, for he'd longed so much to see the amethysts, the most beautiful pair of them all. Instead, his eyes saw the sight of black bruises on pallid skin.

His hands clenched on the cold iron of the bars.

"Why did you do this? Why… why show him to me?"

"So you can let go."

"I can't."

"You can."

"Why do you care?"

A sharp exhale came.

"It's not your grief that I want."

****************

Shinya stood behind a massive window, staring out at a world beautifully painted in white. Behind him, further down the hallway, the sound of chatter was coming, the playing of lovely carols. His eyes followed a path outside, towards the gates where a carriage had left through, seven years ago when he'd still dreamt.

"You're still dreaming."

He smiled, as he heard the approach of footsteps.

"Am I?"

"You are."

His chin is taken in a warm palm, and turned. Shinya stared into cerise eyes, not quite red but not brown, and failed to muster up any expression but warm serenity.

"I am, too." His brother said, and caressed his cheek as he did so.

Shinya laughed. It's more real than any he'd shared with his own wife.

"You're a child."

"Perhaps."

He closed his eyes.

"Then don't be a fool as well."

The hand on his cheek was extracted. Kureto turned, and begun to walk away.

Shinya wondered if, now, he'll stop dreaming as well.

There's nothing to look for, in empty, cold white