Chapter Text
The legend of the former royal family had been circling the village for years – six winters, to be exact, and yet Toge still read it as if the words might change.
He sat curled in the quietest corner of the library, coat wrapped around his small frame for warmth. A single candle flickered beside him, casting golden light over the pages of a worn out book. Its illustration showed a crumbling castle nestled deep in the mountains above the village, swallowed by vines, and with a creepy shadow looming over one of the many windows.
As the story went, the old royal family, two proud kings and their son, once ruled from that very castle. Until, on the coldest night of winter, a beggar girl knocked at their gate, offering a beautiful white rose in exchange for shelter.
The young prince, kind at heart, had almost let her in. But the kings refused her, mocking her for her tattered clothes and dirty skin. The girl had accepted their cruelty in silence, but before turning to disappear into the night, she told them something along the lines of: until you learn where to truly look for beauty, you shall understand what clinging to appearances really costs.
The next morning, the royal family and their entire court had vanished, a monster now living inside those walls that were once full of laughter. Some said they were simply cursed, some others that the whole family is now made of horrible looking monsters whose smells only makes any plant withers.
Years upon years, the village stopped going near the castle, and eventually, they stopped even saying the royal family’s names. The legend of the beast now living in it keeping even outsiders away.
The young boy closes the book softly, fingers lingering on the edge of the page.
“Why read that old thing? See, it’s gotten dust all over you. You should focus on more important things, like me.”
Toge scrunched up his nose at the eerily familiar voice too close to his ear, his shoulders tensing. He ignores him, collecting the book and getting up to place it back. Of course, Naoya Zen’in chased after him. Like always.
“You’re lucky your beautiful. I’m doing you a favor, letting you be my spouse.” He kept nagging, and Toge half expected the usual subtle insults about him being cursed, but instead, this time Naoya added threateningly. “You should stop ignoring me before it irritates me too much, you know.”
Toge held his gaze for a long, cold moment, before hastily turning away, grabbing his bags and going towards the exit.
Naoya, of course, kept following him. “Aren’t you lonely in a house all by yourself? I bet you can use some company.” He said, trying to reach around and touch his waist, but Toge sidestepped, and went in his house.
Then he closed the door, right on Naoya’s smug face.
He should have known sooner or later Naoya’s annoying courting would have done some damage. He just didn’t expect to come so soon.
After the former royal family disappeared, it was Naoya’s family, the Zen’in’s household, who quickly sized the opportunity and claimed themselves the new rulers, who had marched on the legend of the monster saying it choose them. The villagers, could really have done nothing expect accepting.
So when Toge opened his door the next morning to the elders, he wasn’t really surprised. Many words were told him, but he only listened enough to get a grasp on the situation – disrespect, dangerous, reckless behavior, offering.
He didn’t need to hear the rest.
Cold mist curled from his parted lips. With the wind biting at his cheeks, Toge stood before the ancient, rotting gate, before stepping forward, tightening his dark cloak around him to fight off the cold. He stepped slowly, deliberately, leaving footsteps on the fresh snow. He didn’t look back at the small crowd watching him from the iron gate, not once.
The young boy stood tiredly in front of the large and antique wooden door, leaving behind consumed steps made of stone. His resolution didn’t waver, not a bit – he’d rather stay here, alone or with beasts, than endure one more day of being the focus of Naoya’s courting.
With shaky fingers, the boy raised the old and heavy knocker and let it fall, a low and loud thud echoing through his body and surely even louder inside the old castle.
The knock fades into silence.
Toge waits, knuckles brushing the brass knocker again, when the massive doors creak open just enough to show a sliver of flickering torchlight. No one stood there.
Suddenly, the door groans wide open, and a gust of wind forces his cloak to flutter back. The warmth inside beckons him. Shadows stretch across the marbled floor like outstretched limbs.
Toge’s heart stammers in anticipation, and he steps inside, crossing the threshold.
“Stop.” Yuuta whispered, something desperate in his voice.
But the door kept opening. The castle wouldn’t listen.
The boy stepped forward, and the light from the hall spilled across his face.
And Yuuta… stared.
Not because the boy was beautiful – though he was, in a way Yuuta couldn’t name, but because the boy didn’t flinch at the long shadows trying to reach him, did not recoiled from the dark nor lamented the cold.
He just walked in.
Yuuta vanished into the hallow corridor, his shadow, long and wolf-like, dragged behind him like a memory.
The castle was awake now.
And the boy had been let in.
“Why?” Yuuta whispered to the stones beneath his feet. No answer came.
Only the echo of footsteps, heavy and unsure, echoing through the halls.
Warm air greets Toge like a blanket, scented faintly with dried herbs and old wood. Candles illuminated the hallways as he walked through it. Then a flicker of movement – was that a teacup scrambling across the counter?
He presses his lips into a thin line, resisting to use his own curse with nothing clear to aim at.
The grand entrance hall is silent, but alive, and its door opening seemed to exhale in relief after a long, dreamless sleep.
The fire in the stone hearth reignites with a hiss, casting flickering shadows across the vaulted ceiling. The doors behind Toge creak closed on their own, leaving him cocooned in the old warmth of the castle. Dust dances in the air like snow falls.
He takes a cautious step forward. His boots echo on the floor. His cloak drips snow onto the patterned stone floor, and his fingers tremble slightly from cold, or his nerves. He doesn’t speak. Not yet.
“Welcome to your death.” A feminine, flat voice deadpans somewhere near his feet, Toge flinches and looked down, instinctively pulling the cloak around him tighter only to stare at… a teapot.
“Yes, yes.” The porcelain clicks softly on stone, as it wobbles slightly on three tiny legs. “I’m a teapot, deal with it.” Steam curls from its spout like a lazy yawn, waddling closer, as Toge simply stares at her, somewhat unbothered.
“I’m Shoko.” She says after a moment. “I used to be a doctor, now I make tea and scare off intruders. And you are?”
Toge doesn’t answer – he can’t answer. His shoulders shift slightly in discomfort and he inclines his head politely, his lilac eyes attentive but tired, and Shoko hums.
“Not the chatty type, that’s fine. Less noise in the halls.”
Somewhere behind her, there’s a loud crash, followed by the frantic patter of feet and the unmistakable sound of something falling over.
“Oh for – hold on.” Shoko sighs, doing a movement that Toge’s sure indicates her rolling her eyes and turning her spout toward the noise. “They heard the door.”
A grandfather clock skids into the hall, arms flailing from carved hinges. His pendulum swings wildly as he struggles to stay upright, a pair of glasses balancing on the lancets.
“He’s not supposed to be here!” The clock yelps. “The Kings said no more visitors!”
Even if the enormous clock wasn’t talking directly to him, Toge couldn’t help but wince and hold tightly on his cloak, his only reassurance.
“Did the Kings say why?” Shoko clatters towards the clock, asking coldly. “Did they clarify? Use bullet points, sent a carrier pigeon?”
The clock sputters.
“It’s a violation of – of internal security protocol – !”
“You’re a piece of furniture, Ijichi.”
The clock huffs, straightening its brass-rimmed glasses indignantly.
Just then, something enormous and loud barrels down the hallway with the chaotic energy of a runaway carriage.
“WE HAVE A GUEST!!” A voice shouted so loud that it booms off the ceiling.
An oversized suit of armor bursts through an archway, skidding to a halt before Toge. It bends forward at the waist with alarming speed, knocking over a candlestick in the process.
“Oh no.” The clock – now Ijichi – groans. “Panda, no.”
The armor practically vibrates with excitement.
“Oh my god he’s so small! Can we keep him?”
Toge steps back half a pace, eyes wide, not frightened, just… overwhelmed. He glances at the teapot for help.
“Down, Panda.” Shoko orders flatly. “Know the funny thing, boy? Panda used to be a dog.”
As the set of armor does actually sit down – like a dog – on the floor with a whine, more clattering and furniture dragging itself other slowly filled the room.
Toge blinked, and looked around at the chaos, enchanted furniture, flickering sconces, sentient tea ware all coming to life, and he doesn’t run.
Instead, he lifts his hands and gently pulls back the edge of his hood, revealing his face. His expression is quiet. Open. Not afraid, but curious.
The castle seems to pause.
“Oh my – what a beauty you are!” Shoko exclaimed, clattering closer, and Toge sits down on the heel of his feet, to take a good look at her – which she must have taken as an invite to hop on his lap.
Shoko studies him in silence for a long moment, then speaks softly, quieter than before.
“You’re not scared.”
Toge keeps her gaze. Shakes his head once.
The teapot then turns to the staircase, and Toge follows her gaze.
There, at the top, a pair of golden eyes glinted faintly in the dark. Watching.
Toge doesn’t flinch. He simply stares back, instinctively holding on to Shoko, but gave a slight nod.
The eyes blink. Then vanish into the dark.
In the highest room of the tallest tower, on a chessboard abandoned beneath dust and vines, two chess pieces rattle. One is a white king, chipped at the crown. The other is black, with a crack running through its base.
“Did you see that?” Whispers the white king. “He bowed. Bowed. Nobody bows anymore.”
“Shut up, Satoru.” Mutters the black king, his voice low and nostalgic.
“You’re just mad because he didn’t flinch.”
“I’m mad because I flinched. Have you seen his eyes? Never seen that color before.”
The chessboard fell silent again.
But somewhere deep in the heart of the castle, an old spell shudders.
And something began to change.
A petal falls down from a rose.