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Chapter Text

Red?

Red.

Red dominated every part of his vision. It was inescapable.

Was the world meant to be so red? Wasn’t the sky supposed to be a calm blue?

You Huo only remembered parts of that wretched day. Smoke filling his lungs, fire biting at his clothes, his eyes stinging and tearing from the heat, a hand dragging him out of the burning cabin, retching until he finally coughed up something other than soot.. 

After that, he only remembered the parting. His mother walking back to what was once his residence without a goodbye, much less a wave or tear to see him on his way. Turning away from her as he walked away, barefoot and dressed in those same flame-stained clothing he’d ended the first part of his life in. And an overwhelming sense of reprieve, like he was breathing fresh air for the first time not since the accident, but since the day he was born.

When You Huo finally arrived wherever his mother had decided to send him, reality finally hit. He was no longer a noble, the son of Countess You. He was just another exiled ex-noble, sold away to rid his home of an investment that had proven itself worthless. He gazed up at the cold marble of his new residence, not stepping inside until a steward ran out to welcome him in.

You Huo knew the other boys meant to humiliate him, mistreat him, make him regret coming here despite the fact that he’d had no control over his arrival. He kept quiet about the details. But simply stealing his dessert and throwing his blankets out the window each night were nowhere near enough to shake him. The bullying reminiscent of schoolyard incidents was almost a relief, so menial in comparison to his previous life. His mother had taught him better. As he slept, mouth tasting of gruel and skin tingling with every cold draft blowing through, he reveled in the fact that he wasn’t sleeping with a mouth tasting of blood and skin stinging from sword cuts.

On his fifth day, You Huo heard the rumors. The palace’s crown prince was to come home from a training exercise in a few days. The whispers of the prince’s legendary beauty, his extraordinary skill with the bow, and his strength awarded from the gods, filled the palace. Sitting in a corner, eating plain rice robbed of its toppings, You Huo thought about what kind of boy would inspire so much pride in so many people. If he was so great, would he be a worthy opponent? Or would he just be another tormentor to endure? The latter was probably more likely.

True to the rumors, there was a new host at the head of the largest table in the dining hall on You Huo’s eighth day, but he was too far away for You Huo to see anything but the candlelight reflecting off the jewelry on him.

Late that night, You Huo stealthily made his way to the kitchen to grab leftovers that the others would try to block him from during mealtimes. He’d made this trip almost every night since his arrival in the castle, but this was the first time there was someone else in the kitchen.

You Huo’s first glance of him was nondescript. A boy, slightly shorter than You Huo but stockier, wearing fine clothes that surely had to be adding more to his image than his own looks did. But You Huo’s second glance left him just a bit breathless. 

Sun-kissed skin too smooth to belong to a 16 year-old, windswept brown hair, dark eyes radiating a coldness that could rival You Huo’s own. You Huo met his eyes, standing in the kitchen’s doorway. He’d never met this boy before, but it wasn’t hard to guess who it was. He inclined his head at the crown prince, unwilling to bother with propriety at an already inappropriate time and place. To his surprise, the boy inclined his head in return, before turning around and taking an armful of snacks from the pantry. When he left, he left the pantry doors wide open, as if in an invitation for You Huo to take his share as well.

He grabbed his food and quietly closed the door. His nerves shot up the slightest bit from the ambiguous interaction. In the early hours of morning, as he sat in his bed turning over the roll of bread from the pantry, he sighed heavily, mind racing through possibilities. Why had the prince simply let him take food? The cooks had made it clear they didn’t encourage such behavior, so why wasn’t You Huo being punished? He looked down at the roll of bread, crust slightly dented after being rolled around by You Huo for so long. 

As the sun rose outside his window, something akin to the first ray of sunlight bloomed in You Huo’s chest, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome warmth suffusing the bread as he bit into it.

You Huo woke up at dawn as he had been trained to do – a habit he was planning to break as soon as he was able to. He didn’t want some idea of a prank from the others stopping him from the first bout of serious training. 

Group training was usually a lazy affair, with trainers half-heartedly yelling at the boys to hold their swords higher, make their stances wider, stand a little straighter. But with the crown prince’s arrival, the originally-lackluster trainers were now trying their best, aiming to gain the crown prince’s favor. For the first time, You Huo walked onto the training field to echoing clangs of practice swords, repetitive thuds of arrows hitting their targets, and energetic shouts of trainers working for the first time in their lives.

As he stepped into the training ground, a sole figure could be seen at the practice targets. The crown prince’s proud stance was unmistakable. He cut the figure of a mythical hero, standing proud with a wide stance and a bow pulled taut. You Huo’s eyes lingered on the prince’s arms, showing no sign of strain even as those around him struggled to even draw the bow to its full potential. He watched the prince shoot, the whistle of the bow releasing still distinct over all the noise. The arrow hit dead center with ease, the crown prince’s unchanging expression making it clear that such a feat was nothing new.

A shout from an overzealous trainer brought You Huo’s attention back to his own target, still conspicuously void of any arrows. He sighed and brought his own weapon up, gripping the unfamiliar bow and closing one eye to focus his aim. The bowstring bit into his gloved fingers as You Huo took a deep breath. With a sharp exhale, he let his first arrow fly, expecting a thud as it hit the target. 

You Huo didn’t have any delusions of a bullseye on his first try. But he didn’t expect the arrow to sail past the target, burying itself in an unsuspecting flower a good distance away. The lack of impact still made him grit his teeth as he opened his other eye, scowling at the still-unmarked target.

He brought his bow up again, pulling it back and adjusting his arm once more before releasing the arrow.

He shot ten times. And even after You Huo expended all his arrows, his target remained unblemished, taunting him.

Still, You Huo felt a traitorous strand of gratitude twist in his stomach. If he’d performed in this embarrassing manner in front of his mother, his stomach would’ve already twisted in anticipation of a night of endless training without a single morsel of food allowed. 

Sighing, he picked up a new quiver and brought his bow up again, letting fly another arrow that would land nowhere near its target.

The crown prince, four targets to his right, glanced at the arrows strewn everywhere but the target. Expressionless, he looked back to his own target and kept shooting, ignoring the sycophantic praise of the trainers.

You Huo’s ears heated up. He clenched his teeth and continued to shoot. By the time the training time was over, his jaw hurt from gritting his teeth at every missed shot, and his arms were sore even after releasing the bow for a drink of water. But more than the pain in his muscles was the anger that coursed through his veins as he looked at the unmarred target, not a single arrow decorating its face.

People were leaving as the established training time was over, but You Huo remained on the target grounds. It’s not as if he wouldn’t be ridiculed and taunted during mealtimes, and his absence would not be noticed either way. He mechanically shot every arrow left in his training quiver, then walked over to pick up the fallen arrows—every damn one—and did it all over again.

A voice came from behind him. “You’re shit at shooting.”

You Huo turned and scowled before he recognized the speaker as the crown prince. Memories of the night before crawled into his mind, and his scowl deepened as he debated whether or not the prince was about to punish him for taking food from the pantry without permission. 

“Leave me to my practice.” The acidic words slipped past his tongue. Damn the consequences. 

“Doesn’t look much like practice to me.” The prince clicked his tongue at the untarnished target and at the arrows littering the ground around it instead. You Huo felt anger and embarrassment run its course through him, but he forced himself to cool down. The prince joining the ever-growing list of boys taunting him here wasn’t the worst outcome, but he could not afford to insult the crown prince. Not as an exile in the prince’s own home. 

You Huo ignored him and turned back to his target, pulling the bowstring back once more. Before he could release, however, he felt a sudden touch at his elbow. The crown prince had found his way behind him and was holding his arm, adjusting his elbow. You Huo flinched away from the sudden touch, an act that would have once earned him punishment.

The prince behind him froze at his flinch before moving away.

“Angle your elbow to be aligned with the arrow.” You Huo wanted to keep ignoring him, but the memory of those perfect shots from earlier — and that touch that so easily receded at You Huo’s flinch — compelled him to follow the instructions. He released the arrow. It still buried itself in the ground, but it was the closest he had gotten to the target thus far. 

The prince’s brow tightened. He handed another arrow to You Huo and crossed his arms. “Pull the arrow with a little less strength and angle the bow a bit higher.” It didn’t line up with the trainers’ originally instructed form, but it wasn’t like You Huo trusted them to be better than the boy he had seen in action.

His second shot hit the outer edges of the target. 

The prince’s eyes brightened as a small smile began to grow on his face. You Huo felt his body slowly relax at this achievement.

“Alright now, angle the bow just a little higher. Keep everything else the same.”

You Huo did so, taking a deep breath. He fired, and the sharp twang of the bow was amplified by the satisfying impact of the arrow hitting the target. 

It was a perfect bull’s eye. The arrow embedded itself into the wood and cloth of the target more deeply than any of the other arrows, a sign of the wonders of the prince’s advice.

A laugh rang out. You Huo turned to see the prince laughing, his eyes lively in a way they hadn’t been before. He could feel his eyes drawn to his smile, something bubbling up in his chest like that night in the kitchen.

Such open liveliness, it had been a long time since it had graced his sight. 

The prince was looking at him expectantly, like he was looking to hear something in return for his advice. You Huo’s mind raced, then he grudgingly muttered, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

The prince blinked. “Thank me? You did that yourself.” That was an interesting notion. Before, You Huo would have never gotten advice, much less recognition. Again and again, he reminded himself that this place was different, for better or worse. And this prince…

“However, I do have one question.” The prince continued, keeping a small smile on his face. “You know why your arrows weren’t landing, don’t you?”

You Huo kept quiet, and the prince smoothly moved on.

“I can see that’s an unwelcome topic. Then, why not introductions? If I could get your name?” 

“You Huo, Your Highness.”

The prince waved his hand dismissively. “Forget all that crown prince nonsense. Call me Qin Jiu.” The prince moved as if to hold out his hand, before seemingly aborting the motion halfway and smoothing his hair instead. Something about the sincerity was endearing. Just a bit.

In the future, when You Huo would look back on this day, all he would be able to think of was how welcome that first taste of warmth was.

By the time You Huo emptied his last quiver, the noon sun was beating down on the two boys. They made their way back to the dining hall, You Huo still silent while Qin Jiu peacefully made conversation. When they entered the hall, already noisy with the chatter of boys arguing over their meals, You Huo turned to make his way to the back of the hall where he usually sat. Before he could walk away, Qin Jiu simply said, “Come, sit with me.” As though it was the most normal thing in the world.

You Huo looked back at him, considering. He nodded silently and followed Qin Jiu to the largest table in the hall, sitting next to him. The murmurs around them quietened at the sight before resuming back to normal, nobody willing to question the prince’s choice. 

Gripping a spoon in his still-gloved hand, You Huo took his first bite. For the first time since he left home, You Huo ate peacefully. And when he stood up at the end of lunch, for the first time in as far as he could remember, You Huo was almost full. 

Afternoon training usually consisted of boys halfheartedly throwing punches at dummies with more holes than a sponge. Their forms would be ignored, and all the equipment looked decades old. But, as with their archery lessons earlier, Qin Jiu’s arrival had transformed the session into one filled with synchronized shouts as the trainers worked for the first time in their lives. The dummies were finally replaced with newer ones, along with new training armor and gear. Each boy’s form was being corrected down to the exact angle of their stance, as though it would be an affront to the prince otherwise.

You Huo gazed at the scene before him, already feeling the calming adrenaline flood his senses at the familiar environment. He had been born and raised on the training mats. However, this was an unfamiliar environment, with noble boys and respected trainers. His mother had warned him against letting his true abilities show in settings like this, instead keeping him as her dirty little secret, to be used when needed. 

So when the trainers yelled for the boys to line up for sparring matches with their new training swords, You Huo forced himself to relax his fists and prepared to act.

You Huo had always known he had shit luck. But it was another level of shit luck to be called up first, and to be paired with this idiot. The boy in front of him was one of his tormentors, wearing an idiotic grin and an even more idiotic stance. It was clear he assumed You Huo would be an easy fight. Every part of You Huo wanted to rebel at letting the fool be right.

The trainer yelled for the start of the match. The boy barely waited before launching into an attack, a haphazard lunge. How predictable . So predictable it made his jaw clench. Instead of parrying and disarming the thug like his shit stance deserved, You Huo clumsily blocked and allowed his sword to be slowly lowered from the apparent ‘pressure.’ The smirk on the idiot’s face grew, and he turned his sword into a lower strike aiming at You Huo’s chest. 

One thing You Huo had very quickly learned after seeing the noble boys train was that being careful with their strength was nothing but a suggestion to them. It was clear that his opponent was looking to injure him, even at the cost of being fouled. All the better, given that You Huo had been trained in worse conditions. Unfortunately though, in this case, You Huo would have to take the hits and lose. 

He could see the training sword coming to his chest and exhaled, emptying his lungs in preparation. He ‘tried’ to move his sword to block and let the impact of the wooden sword push him back, furrowing his eyebrows in a mock show of effort. He even added a little stumble to really sell it. And it worked. A trainer yelled for his opponent to stop.

The boy before him, however, continued to advance, smacking You Huo’s sword out of his hand. You Huo watched it happen as though in slow motion, silently cataloging every opening available, but forced himself to stay still even as the sword left his hand. The boy, acting as though he’d only just registered the trainer’s call to stop, apologized to the trainer with some halfhearted excuse. You Huo slowly got up and picked up his sword.

Standing in line on the other side, the prince’s eyes were watching his every move, brows furrowed indecipherably. You Huo kept his eyes low and went to the back of the line. 

His second match was against another noble boy, who had been virtually the ringleader of the bullying. He was tall and muscled, clearly trained beyond most of the other boys. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for his smarts. You Huo sighed internally at having to calculate how to take this blockhead’s hits. As they were stepping into the ring, Qin Jiu’s voice rang out. 

“I’d like to fight him instead.” The trainers looked confused for a moment. You Huo could see Qin Jiu grimace infinitesimally, before his lips settled on a fake smirk. “It’ll be a good warm-up.” The trainers clearly took it as the prince having his own fun with the exile who had been forcibly added to the household and agreed. The match was called to start.

However, Qin Jiu’s movements were aggressively held back from his first step. You Huo could already tell just how forcibly haphazard Qin Jiu’s circling was, and it lit a small fire in his stomach. Everybody around them was clearly assuming the prince was playing with You Huo, but You Huo had seen the small kindness that this was intended to be. It was a way for You Huo to gain a quick defeat and walk out with minimal bruises – both to his body and his dignity.

The first swordstrike came, and as they clashed, You Huo could feel the weakness of the strike. This felt wrong. Someone of Qin Jiu’s caliber, someone who could hit repeated bullseyes, should never have to play such a farce with his skills. This was the only person You Huo could ever see as being a worthy match. You Huo had trained in darkness and blood for so long. And for what, to be another forgotten trainee for the prince to defeat? 

It was his mother’s training that had been the whetstone on which he became the blade he was now. It was also her training that made You Huo instinctively pull his punches, hiding his strength. 

How dare she stop him from paying his respects to his first battle with someone he could see as an equal?

You Huo pushed off Qin Jiu’s sword with his own and moved away from the clash. They were both on the edges of the ring. You Huo straightened and adjusted his stance. He gripped his sword, relishing in the rough grip and steady weight of it. Qin Jiu was watching his movements closely, with confusion in his eyes.

You Huo smirked.

He launched himself forward, the heavy sword like a feather in his hands, and aimed at Qin Jiu’s ribs. Qin Jiu parried the movement out of sheer reflex, eyes flickering with surprise, but You Huo didn’t stop his assault. He used his sword’s momentum to push it back in towards Qin Jiu’s shoulder, forcing Qin Jiu to block overhead. The force of the blow was enough to make the prince stumble and use his other hand to brace the sword. 

For a split second, their eyes met. You Huo relished the growing understanding and vague awe in Qin Jiu’s eyes, feasting off it to fuel his next attack. The yells and jeers around them faded away, and it felt as though they were the only ones left in the world.

You Huo quickened his pace even more, each strike forcing Qin Jiu to rely more and more on pure reflex to block and parry. At last, You Huo saw the opening he had been waiting for – Qin Jiu backing away, unbalanced from You Huo’s unending assault. You Huo reversed his grip speedily and used his sword’s tip to push Qin Jiu’s foot.

A cloud of dust, and the prince was on the ground. You Huo, having barely broken a sweat, waited for the paralyzed trainers to call an end to the match. Nobody said a word.

You Huo nudged Qin Jiu’s chin up with his sword. The boy below him stared at him, eyes wide, like he had never seen him before. Then the crown prince at You Huo’s feet laughed and waved for the trainers to call the match to an end.

To You Huo, Qin Jiu’s laugh was like the sun breaking through the darkness. He removed his sword and stepped back. 

The trainers backed away and nervously yelled that the sparring matches were over and it was time for individual practice. Everybody scattered like mice, nobody willing to look the new champion or the longstanding great master in the eyes. 

You Huo and Qin Jiu dusted themselves off and moved to their respective initial spots at the archery targets, as though it was planned. You Huo scowled at the bows, determined to no longer let them best him. Even lifting the bow felt unwieldy, it being almost his height. Nonetheless, he calmed himself and notched an arrow, angling it just as Qin Jiu had told him and controlling his strength. The bow felt steadier, almost like Qin Jiu himself was behind him, a phantom guiding his arms. 

He let go and the arrow soared to hit the bulls-eye. Qin Jiu, who had already shot three arrows decisively into the target marks in one release, smirked at the sight. You Huo kept his face straight and practiced a few more times, forcing himself to not follow his trained instincts. He then notched two arrows, already feeling his arms shaking from the strain of keeping still in such tension. After an hour those too, were hitting clean bulls-eyes. Qin Jiu whistled at his last shot, and You Huo pretended the tips of his ears didn’t turn warm. 

The next day, they were back to sword training and any trace of holding back was gone from Qin Jiu’s stance. The instructors didn’t dare encourage anybody else to spar against You Huo, so they ruled their own private corners of the sparring grounds. With every clash, he could feel Qin Jiu readjusting his grip, adapting his angle, and quickening his pace. It was poetry in motion, each line of his body trying to close the gap in skill with pure strength and improvisation. They both stayed on their feet out of sheer pride by the end of the bouts. Despite the exhaustion, their backs were confidently straight as they walked back together. Helpers rushed to offer iced baths and cooling compresses to the crown prince and the trainee he had seemingly befriended. 

Qin Jiu smiled and grabbed two of the compresses, one hand already extending towards You Huo. But You Huo had already begun walking away, unaware of Qin Jiu’s concerned eyes looking after him.

~

Qin Jiu hadn’t expected training to bring him so much joy. Initially, coming back home had not been something he’d particularly been looking forward to. The training exercise in the neighboring kingdom had been as boring as the previous ones, lonely in the predictably exhausting way the rest of his life was bound to be.  

As the crown prince, he was destined for glory in war. Everyone knew it. It was a joyous fate, they said, especially for someone in a position of power. How lucky for Qin Jiu then, that he had no one to miss him in his bloody future.

So Qin Jiu grinned as he came back, well-aware that this group training would be the first step to that future. Perhaps he’d find his therapon, the companion who’d guard his right side for the rest of their lives. Perhaps he’d go days without finding a single reason to show anything other than an expressionless face.

But then Qin Jiu saw him.

That boy, always hiding at the back of every group he was in. Qin Jiu thought he knew all the nobles whose children were training here. But none of them had raven-black hair and eyes that shone more golden than the sun.

The silence of the boy’s steps intrigued Qin Jiu, quiet to the point of startling the prince. So that night, when he hadn’t even heard the boy enter the kitchen, Qin Jiu had simply left the pantry door open and left with a single thought. Maybe there would be something interesting here, after all.

Days later, lying on the ground and staring up at those amber eyes coolly gazing down at him, a sword tip pressed to his chest, Qin Jiu knew he had been right. More so than he could have ever imagined.

Training was intense every day, all thanks to You Huo. He and Qin Jiu would stay together during every training session, as though under some silent agreement. They’d train with each other’s weapons with the intent to best the other, but they aided the other just as much. Victory would only mean something when the other had reached their best.

You Huo was simply intriguing. You Huo’s terrifying skill and ease in battle, his every sword clash and arrow impaling its target, left Qin Jiu in awe of what You Huo would one day become. As weeks flew by, You Huo’s quiet snark slowly made itself known, his shoulders gradually relaxing in Qin Jiu’s presence. Never before had Qin Jiu flicked his gaze over to look at someone so many times. In his weaker moments, Qin Jiu would muse about how beauty demanded an admirer, and how he was more than happy to be that admirer.

And yet his paleness and lack of weight, especially in comparison to the other noble boys, was worrying. What a contradiction then, that every arrow You Huo initially shot had missed due to You Huo pulling the bowstring too hard. And the way that You Huo trained, pushing himself until his muscles were straining from the weight of his own sword and his brow was drenched, spoke of more than just concentration. It spoke of habit, of desperation drilled into his very bones. 

Holding out a compress to a faceless back, Qin Jiu frowned as he watched You Huo walk away, denying every amenity the castle offered beyond his bed. He looked down at the compress quickly warming in his hands and sighed, running off after him.

Chapter Text

As more days passed since the first time he sparred with You Huo, Qin Jiu grew more and more concerned for the boy he was coming to consider a friend. Since that first meal they ate together, You Huo had started eating more. Qin Jiu made it a habit to push food over to You Huo, to eat slower so the other boy didn’t feel guilty for eating more than the morsels he usually called a meal. As weeks passed, Qin Jiu slowly saw You Huo grow stronger, and his focus slowly drifted more to You Huo’s biceps than his previously protruding elbows, more to his abs than the way his ribs would show every time You Huo lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

But Qin Jiu couldn’t help but notice how while You Huo ate lunch well, it was as though he never ate at any other meal. Qin Jiu took breakfast and dinner with his parents, only eating lunch with the fellow boys as training stretched before and after the lunch hour. As such, he could only make sure You Huo was properly eating for one meal a day, which seemed to be the only thing keeping the boy going. While Qin Jiu and the other boys would come into morning training full from breakfast, You Huo’s stomach would rumble from time to time, as though it hadn’t felt food in hours. And while Qin Jiu continued sneaking to the kitchen in the dead of night for a snack when he felt peckish, he continued running into You Huo, who seemed to be taking food more fit for dinner than a midnight snack.

After a week of midnight kitchen runs full of seeing You Huo take dinner rolls and meat pies from the kitchen instead of fruits or dessert, Qin Jiu decided something must be up. The next morning, he got up at the crack of dawn, before even the sun was up. A quick climb out his window to avoid waking the attendants waiting in front of his door and a short jog brought him to the barracks where the other boys lived. He quickly climbed a tree and hid among its dense leaves, peering down and waiting for any action to take place.

He didn’t have to wait long.

As the breakfast bell rang, groans and complaints filled the barracks as boys washed up and trudged over to the dining hall. Qin Jiu scanned the faces as they walked by under him, but the one he was looking for didn’t appear. Until…

There.

You Huo trudged out of the barracks last, dragging his feet as though he hadn’t had a wink of sleep. Qin Jiu watched him, wondering if he was going to skip breakfast for a quick training routine or simply walk into the barracks once again, prioritizing another hour of sleep over food. Smiling faintly at the thought of You Huo sleeping away, Qin Jiu started planning the lecture he’d have to give his friend on the importance of eating breakfast.

A sharp laugh from below wiped the smile off Qin Jiu’s face.

Qin Jiu looked down to see five boys surrounding You Huo, one stepping forward and pushing You Huo’s shoulder hard. Qin Jiu recognized all five of them as strong fighters, boys who the wrestling instructors loved using as examples of proper form and ferocity. As he watched, his grip on the grab he sat on tightening, Qin Jiu saw You Huo stumble back from that first shove, falling to the ground when the same boy stepped forward and punched him in the stomach. Qin Jiu had half a mind to jump down and break the boy’s nose for that, but his eyes zeroed in on You Huo on the floor. For some reason, You Huo wasn’t getting up, wasn’t fighting back, wasn’t even saying anything back. Even his glare wasn’t trained on the five boys, but on the ground to his side, where a defenseless patch of daisies earned his ire.

Qin Jiu frowned. You Huo was strong. Stronger than even him, maybe, if it came to a physical fight. He could take on at least three, if not all, of the boys bullying him. So why wasn’t he fighting back? Why wasn’t he acting like the fierce, fearless friend Qin Jiu had come to respect and admire?

His grip tightened until he heard the leaves rustling under his palm and had to relax his grip to avoid the sound drawing attention to his position. Below, the boys cackled as the boy who punched You Huo shook out his wrist and grinned. “So, you think you deserve to eat?” He leaned down, kicking You Huo in the side. “When you snuck out again last night after we said you couldn’t? Huh? Huh ?!” He punctuated each word with a kick, one each aimed straight at You Huo’s ribs. You Huo didn’t even properly curl into a ball, as though feeling it might anger or please the boys. Instead, he just lay there, not moving even a facial muscle as pain must rip through his sides. Qin Jiu clenched his fists until he drew blood, though he didn’t drop to the ground and walk over to You Huo until the boys walked away in the direction of the dining hall, cackling and smirking and patting each other on the back for a job well done.

Qin Jiu stood over You Huo, looking down at the bruises visible under the open collar of his shirt, under its lifted hem. He looked at You Huo’s face, at the eyes now holding shame and anger and worry on top of the fury they’d already held, and held out a hand. Bright red crescents shone on his palm, and Qin Jiu saw You Huo’s eyes flick to the evidence of Qin Jiu’s rage on his behalf before You Huo took his hand and stood up.

Qin Jiu tightened his grip on You Huo’s hand. “Start talking.”

You Huo looked down at where their hands were still connected and tried pulling away, but Qin Jiu held fast, glaring at You Huo. “I said start talking . I wasn’t asking.”

You Huo’s eyes narrowed, but he sighed and started walking to the back of the barracks, the side of the building farthest away from the dining hall and training grounds. Qin Jiu followed, listening as You Huo started talking. “What do you want to know?”

“For starters, why were they beating you up?”

“No idea.”

Qin Jiu stared at You Huo in disbelief. “You–okay. Then, do you know why they don’t like you? Did you do anything to them?”

“Not that I know of.”

Qin Jiu massaged his temples. “How long has this been going on?”

You Huo shrugged and shifted his gaze to the rising sun in the distance. Qin Jiu grabbed his shoulders and turned You Huo to face him, guilt churning in his chest when he accidentally pressed on a bruise and You Huo winced. “You Huo. How long?”

You Huo sighed. “Three weeks.”

Qin Jiu did the math. Three weeks meant…since You Huo had gotten here. He looked at the other boy. “Have you eaten breakfast even once since you got here? Or dinner?”

You Huo nodded and Qin Jiu felt a spark of relief, but he’d grown to know You Huo well and so he just raised an eyebrow for him to elaborate.

Sure enough, You Huo shrugged again. “Once.”

Qin Jiu dropped his hands and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, You Huo, and you didn’t think about fighting back? You’re certainly strong enough.”

“They’re not worth fighting. I was taught to hide my strength until absolutely necessary.”

Qin Jiu stared. A fool , he thought. My new friend is a fool . “You Huo…this is considered necessary.” You Huo opened his mouth to argue but Qin Jiu shook his head, cutting him off. “Even then, why didn’t you tell me? Did that never once cross your mind?”

You Huo blinked, like the thought had never occurred to him. “I–you’re the prince.”

“So??”

“I shouldn’t bother you with such things.” You Huo said it so flippantly, so dismissively, as though he was more than sure that Qin Jiu would agree. As though he knew for a fact Qin Jiu didn’t care about his wellbeing.

At that moment, Qin Jiu wanted nothing more than to strangle him.

But instead, he chose peace. He chose to massage his temples, to sigh, to say, “You’re so fucking stupid.” Maybe not so peaceful, after all . He looked up and met You Huo’s eyes. “You fucking idiot, of course you should bother me with such things.”

He turned around and started walking off before You Huo could argue. He had a good mind to head straight to the dining halls and smash the bullies’ faces in their food to show them who deserved to starve, but the bell signaling the end of breakfast sounded and Qin Jiu could only watch as boys swarmed out of the dining halls and onto the training grounds. He sighed and changed directions, walking to the training grounds as the mildly threatening shouts of the training instructors filled the air. Behind him, he heard footsteps as You Huo silently followed behind him, not saying a word either.

Qin Jiu didn’t go to lunch that day. He pushed You Huo into the dining hall and stalked off, heading back to the training grounds. He’d seen the boys who’d bullied You Huo often stick around in the wrestling pits during lunch hour, using the extra time to ‘play around’ in a way that the instructors, were they present, would never have permitted. A cursory glance told Qin Jiu they were in the pit farthest from the training hall’s door.

Looking around to make sure no one else was in the hall and that You Huo hadn’t doubled back to follow him, Qin Jiu made his way to the last pit, watching as two boys wrestled in the pit while the other three watched, jeering and laughing. The two boys punched, clawed, even bit each other until blood fell, and even they laughed the whole time. Qin Jiu called out, “Having fun?”

The boys stopped and slowly looked over. They looked like they’d love to beat him up as well, but they bowed, forced to give him the respect his position as Crown Prince was due.

Qin Jiu looked over the pit. “Is this sanctioned activity?”

The boy who’d taken the lead in beating You Huo up earlier spoke up, his voice dripping with arrogance despite the respect his words would otherwise convey. “I’m afraid not, Your Highness. There’s no supervision here – at least, not during lunchtime.”

Qin Jiu nodded slowly. “Ah, I see. Good.”

The boy blinked, somewhat taken aback.

Qin Jiu, now assured his actions would not be seen by unwanted eyes, tilted his neck from side to side, cracking his knuckles. “I heard you’ve been bullying a boy.”

The boys stared, then understanding dawned on their faces and even the thin facades of respect they’d deigned to pull over their words fell apart. “Oh,” one of them drawled, “that whelp Your Highness runs around with?”

Qin Jiu’s lips curved into a smile, the justification motivating his actions growing by the minute. But before he could lunge forward, bringing his fist back to deliver a scathing blow–

“Stop.”

A voice echoed through the pits, and Qin Jiu looked back to see a familiar boy standing there, raven hair blowing in the wind, amber eyes fixed straight on his. You Huo . Qin Jiu frowned, wondering how You Huo could be here. He’d made sure to lock the doors behind him to avoid something like this.

You Huo walked closer, and Qin Jiu saw a set of lock picks sticking out of his pocket. That explained things.

He came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Qin Jiu, looking over at him. “What are you doing?”

Qin Jiu looked from him to the five boys in the pit, looking at You Huo with varying degrees of surprise and sadistic glee. “I was going to remind them of their actual worth, which they seem to have forgotten.”

You Huo, however, frowned at that. “Not before me.”

Qin Jiu felt something in his brain crack at that. First, You Huo wouldn’t fight back under the reason of ‘hiding his strength,’ then he wouldn’t even let Qin Jiu deal with the problem? “What? You’re willing to protect them?”

You Huo seemed to be full of surprises that day, for he scoffed, leaning down to pick up a big stick the instructors often used to separate boys when wrestling came too close to fighting. “Protect them?” He swung it a few times, as if testing it out before using it. “Like I’ll let you hit them before I have a go.”

Qin Jiu blinked, then his smile widened and he turned back to the five boys. “I bet I’ll get more hits in than you.”

You Huo snorted, hefting the stick and taking a step forward. “You wish.”

The boys in front of them stared at the two in a rare moment of hesitation. But Qin Jiu knew he was not exactly beloved, only envied, and the less said about opinions about You Huo, the better—something which made no sense to Qin Jiu but he’d make up for them all. They started spreading out, clearly intending to surround the two. It would’ve been successful if not for how laughably predictable it was. 

Not even bothering to signal something to You Huo, Qin Jiu backed up a few steps. The welcome warmth of a lithe back stopped his steps. Qin Jiu smirked. 

This is how it should be. Your body and mine, forever aligned. Your spine never being forced to bend in submission again.

Chaos erupted. One boy ran right into Qin Jiu, intending to tackle him while the other grabbed his legs. Qin Jiu ducked and weaved away from the tackle, using his stick to smash the knuckles of the boy at his feet. He gave a quick bite of a grin, before quickly getting up from his crouch position to break the boy’s nose with his now-free leg. 

The boy who had tripped from his failed tackle swan-dived right into You Huo’s hand. You Huo grabbed the once coiffed hair of the boy and pulled his face into his other waiting hand’s baton. 

“Even?” Another, more careful boy was now trading blows with Qin Jiu, taking more hits than he was giving.

“Technically, I gave you that one.” Qin Jiu managed to finally sweep the boy’s leg, and then swung his stick into his diaphragm. Two.

“Fuck off-” You Huo’s voice cut off, and Qin Jiu turned around only to see a complicated maneuver which ended with You Huo’s thighs squeezing any room for breath from the— lucky, no, poor—bastard.

Qin Jiu swallowed. You Huo got up and twirled his baton, unconcerned for Qin Jiu’s sanity. 

“One left?” 

“...Indeed. Last hit wins!” Qin Jiu rushed the remaining boy, whose face was now a rictus, to clear his thoughts. He could hear You Huo’s huff of a laugh, which was just all sorts of bad for Qin Jiu’s concentration.

Qin Jiu went in for a kick to the boy’s shin, and got ready to leverage him into a takedown, he’d even make it a bit flashier than usual now that he had an audience. 

A blur and the sound of an impact. As the boy had been flipped in the air, You Huo’s baton had been thrown right at him. Qin Jiu and You Huo stared at each other. Then at the boy, who was weakly moaning on the ground, with a giant bruise on his forehead. And back.

“Let’s call this one a tie.”

“Agreed.” The pair walked back inside, Qin Jiu slinging a hand around You Huo’s shoulders. 

You Huo had started coming back to Qin Jiu’s room more and more often after training. Qin Jiu hid his delight at the other boy’s actions, and simply stocked his lavish room with even more blankets and snacks. And if once in a while he could convince You Huo to share the ice compress with him, he’d think it a victory well earned. 

It was their haven. A place where nobody would judge their skills or their unlikely bond. Where they could watch the setting sun and feel the cool air make its way into the room. They’d mostly talk of training and previous fights, but slowly little pieces of their pasts also became relevant. 

You Huo already had heard most of his past from others. Every little secret Qin Jiu told You Huo was met with a listening ear, no judgment, and You Huo’s brand of comfort. The little gestures made Qin Jiu feel all the more warm, because he knew just how much it meant coming from the other boy. Qin Jiu was far more open in this regard; he knew this and didn’t mind. Something about You Huo had been frozen over for too long to so easily melt, so he never asked questions and took to heart every small story You Huo deigned to tell him.

“I’m not used to all of this.” The words came suddenly one night. Qin Jiu opened his eyes and looked at You Huo, who he had assumed had fallen asleep early like usual. He kept silent. 

You Huo’s eyes were on the ceiling, the single candle’s light illuminating the room just enough for Qin Jiu to discern his expression. Not calm like usual, but numb. 

“These soft pillows, the luxury, the food. Not for free. I had to earn it.” 

“Earn?” Qin Jiu slowly grasped You Huo’s hand, feeling the slight tremble. It made his heart twinge. 

“Nothing was to be expected. My mother had done me the duty of bringing me to life, so I had to do my duty. Learn. Train. Become someone worth keeping.” The words were so few, but Qin Jiu could hear the years of pain they so concisely summarized. 

How did a child adapt in those circumstances, where simple things are rewards for back-breaking work? He would live and breathe with permission, become better but never enough. Every sword strike would grow ever more precise, all for the price of a little more weight cleaved off his bones, a little more carved from his heart.

Qin Jiu never knew his own mother, who passed away in childbirth. His childhood was a lonely one, and only in his weakest moments did he ever think about the warmth of a mother. The word held near mythic value to him, the idea of the mother who could have protected him from the watchful eyes and stern brow of his father. 

So to hear You Huo so calmly continue and list his daily torturous regimen prior to coming here, all because of a mother who wouldn’t love her damn son? 

It made his blood boil.

He came to his senses as You Huo’s trembles grew worse despite the monotonous tone of his voice. Qin Jiu wrapped his arms around him but the word wouldn’t stop.

“..Dinner was only allowed on the days where I had improved in training. Lunch was based on if she was in an alright mood. If I didn’t wake at dawn, she–”

“You Huo.” 

“–Assigned me to sword practice until I collapsed. Food would be banned for the next da–”

“ You Huo, please.” The words stopped, only when Qin Jiu’s voice broke. You Huo shook in his arms and Qin Jiu held him tighter. It was too late for tears. Not comfort, though. 

Qin Jiu whispered in You Huo’s ear, his chin wedged into the crook of You Huo’s neck like a puzzle piece.

“With me, you will see peace and glory alike. I want you to eat, I want you to rest. With me, you will never have to see her again. I promise.”

“But–”

“I refuse to listen to any objections, dear.” He grinned and knew You Huo felt it.

You Huo raised his head, his eyes having lost the blankness they had been blanketed in. The trembling had faded and it was brave, stoic You Huo staring at him, gauging his promise. 

He then ducked his head back into the hug, pulling them even closer, much to Qin Jiu’s delight. 

“Alright. I’ll hold you to the same.”

Please, peace and glory for us both. Together.

Four months later, the group training for the nobles had reached its conclusion. The other boys would be returning to their homes for individual instruction and learning. You Huo, as the ward of the royal family, would remain to answer to the king directly. Qin Jiu was both ecstatic and discomfited at this turn of events, as while they could remain by each other's side, the king was not a merciful man. 

Not to his own son, and definitely not to some “unwanted exile”.

As Qin Jiu was now 17, the day his prophesied life would begin crept closer and closer. And so, he was called to the throne room by his father. 

“Son. You know as well as I do, that you have reached your mortal capacity. It is time for you to train befitting of the gods. There is a renowned centaur, Gao Qi, who keeps disciples in the mountains to train them. You will become his protege.”

Qin Jiu had known this was coming his entire life. But now, he had someone he did not want to leave behind.

“I understand. However, what of You Huo?”

His father scoffed at the mention of the boy the palace had taken out of sheer pity. 

“He is not worthy of you, Qin Jiu. He can remain here, that is the most I am willing to entertain your foolishness.”

“Not worthy? Father, he is just as skilled as me and only continues to improve! You do him a disservice.” The king’s expression darkened.

“We do him an honor by letting him stay here. A gift I am absolutely willing to take away if you continue with this disobedience.”

Every inch of Qin Jiu’s body wanted to rebel, but You Huo was someone he could not risk. He wasn’t strong enough to keep him, to protect him. Not yet. 

“..Alright. I understand.”

“Good. Be ready to leave tomorrow.”