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Sougo had never been one for excitement. Being the son of a nobleman, he rarely had the chance to go out and explore the world, instead spending most of his time cooped up in his chambers, his only source of entertainment being the local gardener that his father had hired. Even then, he was not allowed to disturb his new friend whilst he was working. So, he spent his days in solitude, endlessly yearning for some kind of escape.
When the Twilight Troupe arrived in town, the young noble had begged and pleaded with his father to be allowed outside just this once, to no avail. Dejected, he had bowed his head in defeat and retreated to the gardens, seeking solace in the vast expanse of greenery. The gardener — Tamaki — happened to be tending to the plants, so Sougo gave him a polite smile and a wave. The gardener smiled in return, and gestured for the noble to approach him for a conversation.
“What’s got you so down today, young master?”, questioned Tamaki.
“Please, call me Sougo. We are friends, are we not?”, replied Sougo.
“Okay, Sou-chan, ” the gardener teased, “that didn’t answer my question. What’s with the sour mood?”
“My father refused to let me outside to see the Twilight Troupe perform.”
The young noble sighed, and Tamaki immediately understood. He had often listened to Sougo lament his strict routine and knew all too well of the other man’s desire to live freely, instead of being bound to his father like a marionette. So, he removed the hooded cloak he was wearing and draped it around Sougo’s shoulders, fastening the clasp and pulling the hood over his head.
“Tamaki…”
“Go. Sneak out. I’ll cover for you if he realises you’re not here. I can deal with a bit of dirt on my clothes for just one day, it’s nothin’ I’m not used to.”
Tamaki grinned and gave Sougo a thumbs up. Touched by the gardener’s kindness, the noble stepped forward and enveloped his friend in a brief hug, a whispered ‘thank you’ falling from his lips. Oh, how Sougo wished that Tamaki could be his younger brother. He was such a sweet boy, and Sougo could not wait to tell him all about the show when they next crossed paths.
He released the gardener from his grip, and eagerly raced out of the palace and into the world outside.
–
The Twilight Troupe’s performance was indeed dazzling. He watched the clown’s magic tricks with bated breath, lost himself in the sweet melodies of the musician, and sat on the edge of his seat whilst the knife thrower narrowly avoided injuring his volunteer. There was one act in particular, though, that left him utterly astounded.
When the puppeteer took his place onstage, head bowed and face obscured, the crowd went silent, save for a few hushed whispers. He seemed to take control of the stage, filling the atmosphere with his eerie presence. Then… his dolls began to move, strings commanding them to wrap around eachother in an elegant, yet melancholy waltz. It almost seemed as if the puppets were alive. Sougo found himself unable to look away, entranced by the puppeteer’s expertise.
It was over all too soon. Sougo realised that he had forgotten to follow the storyline, he was too mesmerized. As the puppeteer took his final bow, he looked up at the audience, locking eyes with the young noble. Sougo’s heart skipped a beat. Even with his features partially obscured by his hood, he was breathtaking. Forest green locks of hair framed his sharp eyes, emphasised by his round glasses. Sougo could not tear his eyes away. Distantly, he wondered if, by way of prolonged eye contact, the puppeteer had recognised him as being of noble lineage. He was well known, after all.
The applause ended and the puppeteer retreated back behind the curtain, giving Sougo one last glance. Forcing himself to look away from the stage, the young noble pulled his hood down over his eyes to avoid being spotted by the locals and stood up from his seat, making his way to the tent’s exit. He did not want to go back home yet, though it appeared he had no choice. Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him and spun around, only to be met with those same sharp eyes that he had been gazing into just a moment beforehand.
“I was not aware we were in the presence of royalty,” the puppeteer crooned, taking Sougo’s hand and bringing it to his lips. A feather light kiss was placed upon the young man’s knuckles.
“I have no idea what you mean, sir. I am simply a commoner, like everyone else.”
Though shocked that he had been found out, Sougo made no move to pull his hand away. Perhaps it was out of courtesy, or perhaps he had been entranced by the man in front of him yet again. The puppeteer smirked, letting go of the noble’s hand and ever so slightly lifting the hood of the cloak he was wearing, proving his theory correct.
“Sougo Osaka, heir to the Osaka throne. Do not try to lie to me, your highness, for I and my fellow performers have done our research,” the man laughed, “Pray tell, what brings someone of your status to our show?”
Sougo opened his mouth to reply, but the strange man cut him off and continued speaking.
“I would love to find out, but I think it’s time you get home. We would not want your father to find out you’ve snuck out, hm?”
The young noble gasped. The puppeteer was right, he had completely lost track of time! Reluctantly, he turned to leave, even though he would rather find out just how , exactly, the puppeteer knew so much about him. As Sougo began his journey home, the strange man only smiled, and called out to him;
“I hope to see you at our next show.”
–
Sougo had been caught. Despite Tamaki’s valiant effort to cover for him, the pair had been found out and Tamaki had paid dearly. His father, enraged by the gardener’s involvement in Sougo’s small act of rebellion, had lashed out and left his dear friend with a broken arm and no source of income. Powerless to stop him, the young noble was only able to stand and watch in horror.
The gardener had reassured him that it was not Sougo’s fault in the slightest, urging him to hold onto the cloak he had been given and telling him that he would be okay, that they would see eachother again. It did nothing to stop his guilt. In one day, he had lost both his only friend and what little freedom he had.
The day after the incident, his father had locked him in his chambers, instructing guards to keep watch outside his door. He was trapped, like a bird in a cage, unable to spread his wings and fly. All he could do was lie flat on his bed, bury his face in his pillows and cry — for Tamaki, for his inability to stand up for himself, for his last chance at life being taken away from him. The young man wept and wept, but his cries were met with silence.
That is, until he heard a tap at his window.
Sougo lifted his head and turned towards the direction of the noise, trying to discern the source of the tapping. Though his vision was blurred with tears, he could make out… Dark green? It couldn’t be, could it? He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve and pushed himself up off the bed, walking towards the window and unlatching it, coming face to face with the Twilight Troupe’s puppeteer standing on his balcony.
“Why are you here and how did you find me?” Sougo questioned, staring in disbelief at the man before him. How on earth did he even manage to climb so far up without falling?
“You didn’t come to our show today.”
“That does not explain why you are on my balcony.”
The puppeteer cocked his head. “I merely wanted to know why you didn’t come back. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but you appeared to have enjoyed yourself last night.” Without waiting for a response, the man pushed past Sougo and stepped into his bedroom. Confused and annoyed, the noble had no choice but to let him in. He assumed that if he were to protest, the puppeteer could easily overpower him.
“If you must know, I have been banned from leaving my chambers,” sighed the noble. “Now that I’ve answered you, would you so kindly enlighten me as to why you are currently trespassing on my property?”
“You intrigue me, Sougo Osaka,” replied the puppeteer. “You are much like a marionette. I have experience with marionettes, therefore, I wish to understand you.”
“A marionette?”
“Yes. All your life, you have had your strings pulled for you. You cut those strings last night when you came to see our performance. I was drawn to you for that reason. Yet now, you have allowed your strings to be re-tied. Why is that? Are you afraid of being in control of your own destiny?”
“...I suppose I am.”
-
Over the next few days, the puppeteer and the young noble would continue meeting in secret, following the same pattern. The noble would wait by his balcony window and the puppeteer would climb up to meet him. They’d talk for hours on end, growing ever closer by the minute. Sougo found himself falling for the strange man, ever shrouded in mystery. He would never reveal anything about himself, aside from bits and pieces of his backstory, yet he always listened to what Sougo had to say.
Tonight was no different. They were sat side by side on the young noble’s bed, chatting idly and trading tall tales. Sougo had learned that the puppeteer had joined the Twilight Troupe from a young age, that he had no family to speak of — as far as he was concerned, the travelling band of oddballs were his family. It was nice, to say the least. He had never expected to find such comfort in the performer, let alone in anyone at all. In the past, it had felt like an unachievable dream.
However…
“You’ve never told me your name,” remarked Sougo, shifting ever so slightly closer to the puppeteer. “I’d like to know, if you’d be so kind.”
The man beside him remained silent for a while, as if deliberating on whether Sougo could be trusted with such information. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke:
“Yamato. Yamato Nikaido is my name.”
“Yamato… It suits you very well.”
“Thank you.”
The puppeteer — Yamato — then stood up from the bed and extended his hand toward Sougo.
“Now that we are on a first name basis,” Yamato proclaimed, “I would like for you to dance with me.”
“Dance? How are we going to dance when there is no music?”
“Let me take the lead. May I have this dance, Sougo Osaka?”
Hesitantly, Sougo placed his palm atop the other man’s and was instantly pulled flush against his chest. Yamato positioned the noble’s head to rest against his shoulder, then placed his free hand firmly against Sougo’s waist. Following the puppeteer’s example, Sougo laced their fingers together and draped his free arm around the other’s shoulder.
Yamato began to sway gently, humming a tune that Sougo did not recognise. The young man rocked with him and soon took the initiative to turn their vague swaying into a slow waltz, spinning from side to side. Though there was no soundtrack, save for Yamato’s soft singing, the two danced to the symphony of their hearts beating in time.
The puppeteer adjusted his grip and dipped Sougo low, causing the young noble to wrap his arms around Yamato’s neck for balance. The other man simply laughed and brought them back to a standing position, lifting Sougo slightly off the ground and spinning him around.
They came to a stop, arms still wrapped around eachother. Yamato’s hand moved to rest on Sougo’s cheek, as the puppeteer leaned closer.
“I wish I could keep you,” he whispered, hot breath fanning across Sougo’s lips. “You would make a fine doll in my collection.”
Sougo inhaled shakily, sliding one of the hands draped around the other man’s neck down to rest on his cravat, fingers curling around the soft material. He toyed with the fabric idly, before responding, “I do not wish to be kept. However, I wish for you to claim me as yours.”
Yamato leaned down and captured the young noble’s lips in a soft kiss. Sougo kissed back, melting into the other, the hand that was around the puppeteer’s neck trailing up to tangle in his hair. It was almost as if the two were made for eachother, lips slotting together like puzzle pieces, pressing against eachother as if they were to die upon separating. Sougo deepened the kiss, and Yamato allowed him, tongues dancing to the same rhythm that their bodies had done just moments ago.
After a while, Sougo pulled away, breathless. Pressing their foreheads together, he uttered just one word:
“Stay.”
In lieu of a response, Yamato kissed him once more.
-
The next morning, Sougo woke up alone. The balcony window was swung wide open, pale lilac curtains fluttering in the breeze. The sound of an aircraft’s motor could be heard faintly in the distance. The young man felt his heart shatter. How cruel life was, to give him a taste of love, only to rip it away from him with no warning. Miserably, he slid out of bed and made his way over to the window and rested his hand against the glass pane. He could not bear to close it, for what if Yamato were to return?
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something laying by his feet. Upon closer inspection, he determined that it was a piece of parchment paper and… a doll made in his likeness? He picked it up and unfolded it, revealing it to be a note that read:
I will find my way back to you.
Sougo’s eyes glistened with tears. He picked up the doll, held it close to his heart, and wailed.
-
Patience was an art form, and Sougo was not an artist. Day by day, he sat by the window and waited for Yamato to return. Weeks and months passed by, hopes and dreams faded away, yet Sougo never stopped waiting. He supposed that Yamato had forgotten him. It seemed like it had been lifetimes since they first met, but… He still indulged in his fantasy, yearned for Yamato to come back and whisk him away from his prison.
It was the only way he could keep from going insane.
Sougo had once more been allowed to roam freely around his family home in the time that Yamato had been away from him, though he could not bring himself to go anywhere but the library and occasionally the dining hall for family meals. The space felt emptier than ever.
-
One year passed by. Sougo was to begin his training to take over head of the household, soon. By then, Yamato was just a distant memory. The young noble had no time to think of such asinine fantasies. He would immerse himself in his studies, sit through wordless meals with his father, then retire to his chambers. A pitiful routine.
He had just finished eating supper and had been ordered to go back to his room and stay there until morning. With a curt nod and a sickly sweet ‘yes, father’, he obeyed. Stepping through the doorframe, he sighed, glancing over to the doll still sitting on his vanity. His heart began to ache — perhaps it was time to lock it away in a drawer somewhere for good, never to be seen again. It was time to give up.
Just as he was about to do so, a rumble shook the ground he stood on. A thunderous whirring noise came from outside his window. He swore he could hear a voice calling out his name. A voice he knew all too well.
With his heart racing, he rushed over to the balcony window and threw it wide open, running outside. In front of him was an airship, a ladder dangling below it and Yamato Nikaido, in all his glory, holding on to the rungs.
“You—!” Sougo exclaimed in shock, as he stared at the puppeteer, wide eyed.
“I promised I’d come back,” Yamato yelled over the whirring of the aircraft. He extended his hand toward Sougo, just like how he had asked him to dance on that fateful night. “Take my hand!”
The young noble had never been more sure of anything in his life. He took a deep breath, climbed atop the balcony railing, and grasped Yamato’s hand as if it were a lifeline. Yamato pulled him up, bracing the younger man against his own body, making sure he wouldn’t plummet to the ground below. The puppeteer called for the ladder to be raised, marking the start of their new life together.
Sougo was no longer the heir to the Osaka throne, nor was he a marionette. The puppeteer had, ironically, cut his strings. Now, he was simply Sougo.
-
The Twilight Troupe’s performance was enchanting as usual. The clown performed his illusions, the musician played and the knife thrower performed death defying stunts. And among this merry band of artists, were the puppeteer and his dancer.