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To be a good Prince, Akaashi had to follow many rules. Somewhere within his study was a thick book with yellowed pages, rules upon rules scribbled down onto them. However, there were three that were more important than the others. At least three was an easier number to remember than the hundreds of rules his advisor had tried to get him to submit to his brain.
Rule one: the Kingdom always came first.
That was easy enough. Though their Kingdom was small, Fukurodani was dear to Akaashi. How could it not be– he had grown up here, born to the King and Queen. This place had given him everything and so he didn't think it was crazy that he had to give everything back. His plans for the future had to have the Kingdom in mind. He had to be weary of opposing factors who maybe wanted to take advantage of them.
However, rule number two slightly contradicted that whole idea. Rule two stated that if the situation was too dire and no solution could be found, then flee from the Kingdom to find safety.
His father used to tell him that a Kingdom was no more than the people who make it. Akaashi supposed that was true. Whilst he didn't like being put on a pedestal, singled out simply because he was born into the royal lineage, it had helped him learn the stories of the people who live in his Kingdom. Like the baker who supplied them with fresh bread, baked with honey and thyme with just the perfect crunch from a golden crust. Or the seamstress who made the most beautiful garments, from simple clothing you could complete everyday tasks in to extravagant gowns fit for any ball. Or, the teacher at the school who put his heart and soul into giving the kids a future. Whilst Fukurodani was not a large Kingdom, the connection between its people was strong. So, Akaashi started to understand his father's words. If in danger, then the people should flee together as it was the people who made up Fukurodani, not the buildings or land.
Eventually, he would be expected to continue the line. Make sure the Kingdom could still thrive. Rule three: find a suitable partner, one you are happy and content with, to produce an heir to the throne.
Whilst an uncomfortable rule to read, Akaashi understood the importance. His father, the King, was born into royalty but had fallen in love with the butcher's daughter. His grandparents had not been pleased about that, stating his father had needed a “proper wife.” Then his father had simply ignored what his parents had to say and married her anyway. He appreciated that his parents did not rush him like he had heard about in other Kingdoms, instead encouraging him to find someone he truly cared about and wanted to spend his life with continuing the Kingdom.
However, the problem with that was that he had found someone. He just wasn't sure if that was going to work out in the eyes of the rules. Whilst he knew his parents adored Bokuto, he wasn't sure the rest of the kingdom would.
His Knight in shining armour, quite literally. Bokuto had been hired to protect him, his father being a close friend/advisor to the King. At first, Akaashi hadn't thought much of the man but his eccentric charm and unapologetic kindness got to him. Bokuto was quite the opposite to him. Akaashi preferred to stay quiet and reserved whereas Bokuto was boisterous and energetic. Though he supposed that was all part of the man's natural charisma. Slowly (or, perhaps he wanted to think it happened slowly, others would say it happened fairly quickly) he had fallen for the man and suddenly he was in a relationship.
Something was exciting about being with someone and hiding it from the public eye. Secret meet-ups at dawn, hidden kisses behind the Palace walls, being able to stand so close because of their positions but the rest of the world being none the wiser. Only his family and close friends or trusted acquaintances knew.
It was perfect, for now. Whenever some stranger or a ruler from another Kingdom pestered him about a partner he simply shrugged– saying he had someone in mind and never elaborating on that.
—
The Kingdom was under siege.
Akaashi couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming. Fukurodani was always very neutral when it came to combat. Staying out of the major battles– for example, Kurasuno versus Shiratorizawa. Fukurodani prided itself on being absent from conflict and it was only a matter of time before someone saw that as a weakness and picked their time to seize them.
His father and mother were dead.
There was no time to mourn. Attackers were inside the castle. The screams outside rattled within his skull. His clothes were blood-stained from where he had held a butler, one he knew and loved like his own brother, who was now spurting blood from a sword to the chest. Akaashi had never known fear like this. The Kingdom wasn't prepared and he could only hope that his people were fleeing to the meet-up location. Survivors could move on, they would find somewhere else to rebuild their Kingdom. It would be hard, yes, but it would be doable.
Hand in hand, Bokuto dragged him through the winding castle halls. There was an exit somewhere in this wing of the castle. If they could find it and slip away, they would hopefully be safe. Heart thundered in his chest and his grip tightened, holding onto his lover like a lifeline.
They rounded a corner, the exit near. The exit was just there in front of them. Bokuto pulled him closer, his hand reaching out for the door. One push and they would be tumbling out into the frigid air and a successful escape just within their grasp.
Then a numbing pain, blunted and forceful, punctured his chest. The tip of an arrow that was splattered in crimson poked out through his tunic.
With wide eyes, his hand slipped out of Bokuto's flitting out towards the unwanted intrusion, a gush of blood coughing up past his lips.
—
The attack was dead before Akaashi could turn to see who it was. Bokuto had thrown one of his daggers, hitting the man right between the eyes. He fell, crossbow clattering to the ground, body limp.
Then all his focus was on Akaashi. “Hey,” he whispered breathlessly, lowering his partner to the floor. “Hey, Hey, it's okay. You're okay.”
“Bo,” Akaashi's voice was weak, barely audible. “It's not– I won't–”
Hacking up more blood, Akaashi whined deeply. Curling into Bokuto even further, eyes scrunched up in silent pain. Around them, there were faint footsteps. Bokuto could still make out the screaming outside. The King and Queen were both dead, the Kingdom couldn't lose another royal.
(Bokuto couldn't lose this particular royal either.)
“It'll be fine. You're okay,” he was a broken record, repeating a seemingly ineffective matra. His hands came up to attempt to staunch the bleeding but more viscous liquid bubbled up past his fingers and pooled around them both. “We can–”
A hand came up and cupped his chin. “Bokuto. We both know I'm not going to make it.”
“No–” he sucked in a breath, eyes wet. “ No.” He repeated, hands shaky. He couldn't– wouldn't let that happen.
“Bo, it's okay,” it certainly was not okay. “You can– the people love you, they'll follow you.”
That was true. Whilst many didn't know the intricacies of their relationship, people still saw Bokuto as the Prince's closest protector. A royal guard and knight. Bokuto was not quiet and that had worked in his favour, gathering a small group that appreciated his work and loyalty to the King and Queen.
But he couldn't run a Kingdom alone. He wasn't fit for that. He wasn't made to live the lonesome life.
“Bokuto, I'm not,” he didn't need to finish that sentence, blood leaking from his lips as the colour left his eyes. “Please.”
“Don't leave me,” his voice cracked, eyes closing as he knocked his forehead against Akaashi's. “I can't live without you.”
“I know. But our people need someone. And that someone can be you. I know you can do it Bo, I know.”
“I love you, ‘Kashi. More than life itself.”
Akaashi smiled, it was the calm within the storm. Not before or after but in the middle of the chaos, his smile was serene and subdued.
“I love you too, Bo. I think, if the fates were written any differently, we could’ve lived our perfect life together.”
Bokuto lowered his partner, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. Akaashi fell limply to the side. With a suppressed sob, Bokuto stood on shaky legs. Collecting his thoughts, he knew that now was not the time to mourn. He could process it later, with a beautiful grave and a perfect eulogy. Akaashi had always loved daisies, he'll make sure to plant some for him.
He slipped out the exit, alone. Into the icy air– alone .