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As the student council president, Eichi knows better than anyone else the reason why the drama club has a lot on their plate right now. The new production, which he was kindly given a sneak peek at, is due to be on stage by next Wednesday. It’s so easy to forget sometimes that Wataru has a club of his own to manage, and it makes these occasional absences feel far too silent. Speaking to each other via messaging just isn’t the same when you’re used to seeing someone nearly every day, after all.
Even coming to stand here, in front of the drama club’s headquarters, feels odd when there isn’t any sort of noise at all coming from within.
… I want to see him.
The thought is there, then gone in a split second, but it gives him pause all the same, his hand frozen in place mere millimeters from the door. Inside his pocket, the small, wrapped box suddenly feels as if it weighs much more than it actually does, making any movement on his part seem sluggish to his own eyes.
He clicks his tongue once, twice.
Instead of knocking politely as intended, Eichi’s fingers curl around the handle, and he pushes the door open. He’s greeted by a room where the light sources are currently limited to a few candles, judging by how his eyes need a moment to adjust. The curtains are pulled shut, as usual. Rather than be put-off by the needless displays, he finds himself charmed by the atmosphere present.
The familiar figure seated on the plush couch by the wall, with light hair cascading down over his shoulders, brings a small smile to Eichi’s face. A thick stack of papers sits next to him, a few held in his hand. Obviously absorbed in his work, Wataru only looks up at him after second or two pass, and quickly sets the papers back down.
“If it isn’t His Majesty, the Emperor himself!”
“I thought you might be here, Hibiki Wataru,” Eichi says, leaning easily against the doorframe. His gaze wanders, drawn to peculiar trinkets and costumes that seem right at home in the dim lighting. How many of these might be Wataru’s personal belongings, he wonders for a brief moment.
“Indeed, here I am, within my kingdom of darkness…” He stands, then whirls around, hair and blazer whipping in the air like a long cape. It suits Wataru, of course, driven by theatrics and filled with a flourish in his every step as he is. “I wonder, however! What could it be that bestows upon this fool the honor of a royal visit? I hope it is not an invasion, for I am dreadfully unprepared… ☆”
“Not today, at least. However, be aware that I have every intention to intrude for a bit.”
Just to punctuate that statement, he steps inside fully, letting the door slide shut behind him with a soft clicking noise. Wataru gestures for him to take a seat on the couch, but Eichi raises his hand to wordlessly decline, instead making a beckoning gesture. On cue, his jester comes over to stand in front of him, arms crossed and posture relaxed in contrast to the scolding tone of voice he takes on.
“Now, now, Eichi… You know as well as I do that an emperor cannot intrude upon a part of his own realm! The ruler is free to come and go as he pleases… that is part of the very foundation of such a dignified figure.”
“You’re right, of course,” he responds, tugging at Wataru’s sleeve to make him hold his hand out, and fishes the box out of his pocket to drop it onto the waiting palm. “And the ruler is free to bestow boons upon his loyal court as he sees fit.”
“Oh? Is there an occasion?”
Wataru looks at him curiously, head tilted in a secondary, silent inquiry, with the slim box held within both his hands now. The sight is adorable enough that Eichi can’t help but chuckle at it, his hand lifting to cover his mouth with feigned modesty. Force of habit, but one he doesn’t care to unlearn.
“I can’t give you something just because I want to? But more importantly, shouldn’t you open it? It’s not very nice to keep someone waiting for a reaction when they deliberately pursue it… ♪”
He’d never admit to it, but he holds his breath as Wataru unwraps the gift with care not to tear the paper up too much. A shimmering shade of blue with hints of silver. The moment he laid eyes on it, he knew it would be the only acceptable choice.
The prize contained within is an ornate hair clip. Delicate white feathers and a thin trimming of lace surround a glittering cluster of small crystals. Already, it seems to be exactly where it belongs, held gingerly between Wataru’s thumb and index finger as he looks it over in awe before breaking into a smile that makes Eichi’s weak heart soar.
“How splendid a gift! As expected of Eichi, it’s exquisite…!”
He can only laugh as he’s pulled by the waist into a loose embrace.
“What a relief. I thought it would suit you wonderfully, but as with any gift, you can never be sure of how it will be received… though I won’t be satisfied enough to leave until I’ve seen you wear it, I’m afraid.”