Chapter Text
prince-servant>naocho
**
He stood before the huge wooden back gates of the castle. Clenching the paper in his hands, he swallowed the lump in his throat. Choso could barely read, having only learned some stuff here and there on the few rare occasions Kenjaku bothered to teach him something useful. It read: "Help wanted [...] Servant [...] Castle." That was all he could make out anyway.
When he came across this ad stuck to a wall on the streets, he was desperate, jumping from one shop to another, practically begging for a job. So on a whim, he gathered wha was left of his will, grabbed the paper and ran to the castle.
It took him three hard knocks for his knuckles to hurt and realize just how idiotic this plan was. Or lack of there of. He didn't have a plan. What was he thinking when he showed up at the backdoor of the servants without anything as much as a reason. What was he supposed to say to them? *I found this poster, please hire me?* God, that sounded pathetic and idiotic. He should turn around and leave—
The wooden doors opened with an aged creek, slow and controlled. By them stood a rowdy looking man, his eyes narrowed as he regarded Choso. "What's your business here, boy?" His gruff voice already indicated his distaste for Choso. Our boy tried to talk, to muster something to say in front of this royal worker. In those few seconds, the man beat him to speaking, "come on, we don't have all day to waste."
Right. This snapped him out of his anxious trance. Still, he couldn't find the words within himself so he hastily handed the poster for the man. The man skimmed over it with his sharp eyes before he glanced at Choso with nothing short of skepticism. "You want to work here?" He scoffed.
"Yessi—" Choso said at once before being cut off again.
"As the prince's personal servant and butler?"
Wait what?
He thought they were looking for a regular servant. A helper boy to lift things or care for the yard. But to work under the freaking prince himself? This was so out of his skillset. Maybe he should've learned to read better before he went barging into the castle.
Eyeing Choso up and down, the man stiffled a demeaning laugh. Clearly, he knew Choso wasn't cut for this. This was all a huge misunderstanding. Poor planning on his part. He should just turn around and figure out something else.
"Go to your home, boy. This type of high level position is not made for a peasant like you."
Before the door could close in his face, however, a deep, authority filled voice spoke. "Yoshinobu, who's on the door?"
The man who had been humiliating Choso so far looked more annoyed than anything. He let a heavy sigh. "Yaga, it's a peasant who clearly doesn't belong here."
"What does he want?"
"He's looking for a job." Yoshinobu replied shortly.
From the corner of his eye, Choso could see this Yaga person quirking an unamused brow. It was like he had been through this thirty times already. "What kind of job?"
"Well," Now Yoshinobu looked more hesitant. His annoyance wasn't well hidden either. "The job we've been offering recently."
"You know the rules. Let him in."
Yoshinobu's eyebrow rose, almost reaching the peak of his bald forehead. He turned to Yaga, a list of objections already forming on his tongue. "That would be a waste of everyone's time. He doesn't even look qualified to feed the horses."
By now, Choso had enough of this man's bullshit. He had been doing nothing but insulting him in the five minutes he stood there. And since he couldn't obviously get this job, he might as well put this old dick in his place. He opened his mouth, ready to give this Yoshinobu guy a taste of his own medicine before Yaga spoke again. "It's the king's orders. You know that. You're aware of how desperate they are."
"But Yaga-"
"And if the king finds out you turned down a potential hire, I cannot get your head off that noose and neither will your ego."
He took a quick look at Choso, murmured something about filthy peasants before grabbing his hand and shoving him to Yaga.
Well, that was a step forward at least.
Now that Choso was inside, he took a better look at his surroundings. This was the entrance for the servants and the royal staff. Nothing fancy since they were commoners. The walls were of chipped paint and the ground and ceiling of moldy wood. His eyes fixed in on Yaga eyeing him up and down. This was the second time that day. He had a well trimmed beared and a stern expression, that of a military leader. His build was big and manly. Everything about him contradicted Yoshinobu's bald and frail body.
"What's your name, boy?" He asked once he deemed Choso good enough to be here.
"It's Choso Kamo." Choso said at once, never breaking eye contact with Yaga. He knew he couldn't be the prince's butler. But he could at least prove himself to get any kind of job here. Whatever they'd offer him.
"Choso," Yaga tasted the name on his tongue before speaking again. "I'm Masamaichi Yaga, one of the king's advisors. This old snubb right here is Gakuganji Yoshinobu, the head of the royal staff."
Choso nodded briefly.
"I do side with Yoshinobu, you don't look like the type to get this job. There were far better applicants than you that got rejected. But that's for the king to decide. We do not take pity here, so prove yourself."
Yaga led Choso through a maze of halls, full of twists and turns. Each hall they passed was fancier than the one before it. Choso couldn't help taking all of this with bemazed wonder. Hell, the carpet they walked on was worth more than what he would make in his entire life.
While they walked, Yaga explained that they're going to meet the king. He would be the one to directly interview Choso as he wanted to pick only the finest servant for his son. Each word he said made Choso more and more certain that he was going to horribly fail this. For heaven's sake, the most complicated job he did was lift heavy stuff. The anxiety burned hotter in his veins as they neared the throne where the king sat. His heart thrummed louder in his chest as he prayed not to fuck this up. He could at least secure his own head.
Finally, they reached the main room of the castle. The one where the king and queen sat on their golden thrones. The only thing that separated Choso from them was the heavy oak door with its golden handle. Yaga knocked on it. They heard a faint "come in." That came from the king. Holy hell, Choso just heard the actual king speak. It was safe to assume that his heart was ready to jump out of its cage from anxiety.
Yaga opened the door and guided Choso inside. Everything happened so quickly. They stepped onto the burgundy red carpet. The king and queen laid eyes on Choso and Yaga. Then, he automatically went into a deep, respectful bow.
"Yaga," The king, Naobito, spoke, prompting Yaga to elaborate.
Yaga got out of his bow, Choso following suit once he deemed it acceptable. "Your majesty, this is the latest applicant, Choso Kamo."
Now that Choso stood up straight, froozen like a wooden log out of tension, he can make out more of the fancy room and its inhabitants. He almost couldn't believe himself. He was standing directly in front of king Naobito Zenin. He was an old man with white hair and a fancy beard, dressed in the most luxurious of fabrics. He looked at Choso with mild indifferent. Beside him was his wife, Queen Akiko, gauging Choso with her narrow eyes. She held no other expression on her face.
Naobito shared a glance with Yaga and the man took his leave, leaving Choso alone with the monarchs.
"You want to serve my son?" Naobito spoke. It was unexpected. This form of question was way too casual, too sudden. Not how he imagined the king would speak. And to be frank, he didn't know how to answer it.
"Yes, your majesty." He supposed this was the right answer.
Naobito scoffed. "Well, good luck with that if you make it. Tell me, what can you do?"
Holy shit. He was officially fucked.
But he had to do this. For his brothers.
"I..." He gathered his thoughts as quickly as he could. "I am very strong physically. I do well in hand to hand combat. I know enough self defense to protect myself and others. I'm very quick on my feet and I know the ins and outs of the cit—"
"We're not hiring a guard. We have enough of those already." The king interrupted him. "What can you provide intellectually?"
At this Choso faltered. Nothing. Literally nothing.
"I..." He didn't know what to say.
"Can you read?" Naobito prompted further.
AHe nodded. "A little." That was how he got here in the first place.
"Can you use a sword?"
"I can learn."
"What do you know about dining etiquette?"
"Eti...quette?" God, he sounded so stupid now. He should be grateful if he left in one piece since he wasted their time.
This earned him an amused chuckle from Naobito. He turned to his wife, whispering with a frisky smirk. "That kid's a piece of work. He knows nothing of the basics and had the guts to come here."
He turned his attention back to the boy. "Tell me about your upbringin'. You look like you're from the slums."
While this felt extremely humiliating coming from the king, it wasn't inaccurate either. He must've sparked the king's interest in some way or the other. Choso had no idea what value he could bring him, but he wasn't going to object either. So, he talked about the stuff he knew through and through, the places that he memorized like the back of his hand and the things he went through that would always mark him away from the nobles. He was sure he was telling the king stuff he heard for the first time.
Strangely enough, King Naobito looked invested, very much so that he was asking prompting questions. Choso had no idea where this was going, but the king was planning something that he was a key part of. His wife, on the other hand, looked disapproving, at some points even horrified at what Choso had to do. But it wasn't out of sympathy. Rather, she wanted to place him as far away from her son as possible.
As the king asked more, Choso was sure to deliver. He told him about how ever since he could remember, he had to provide for himself, to sustain himself and his frail, sick mother. He spoke about his siblings and how he had to bring food on the table for them when their father couldn't bother. He mentioned how at one point, Kenjaku was making him pay rent for the pile of wood he used to call a home. The more he spoke, the more the king's eyes glittered with a flicker of something he couldn't quite put his finger on. In a way, the king was almost too interested in the hardships he went through.
"And then I punched him to the ground and took the cash out of his pocket," He finished telling the story of the guy that tried to scam him into free labor, his chest buffing up slightly in pride.
Naobito nodded, attentive, before he spoke up. "You're hired. From now on, you'll be stuck to Naoya."
Wait what?
A cold bucket of water spilled all over him, leaving him freezing. He almost couldn't believe it. Did he mishear it? Surely the king wasn't asking him to be his son's servant, was he? Choso was a hundred percent sure he was not getting this job. He was just entertaining the king. But now, it became serious.
"Wait, Naobito-sama," His wife spoke up. She looked just as startled as Choso. "Surely you're not letting this peasant boy come near our precious Naoya, right? Who knows what kind of disease he carries? Or his lack of any manners. It could rub off on Naoya. I cannot let my perfect son be subjected to this... barbarity."
If she were any other woman, Choso would have given her a piece of his mind. But she was the queen and all he could do was take it in silence. But she could at least pretend that he could hear her.
Naobito just waved his wife off, sighing heavily at her words. "I'm grateful he only took after you in beauty. Seriously, that's your saving grace. Not so much in mind. But dear, look at him," He gestured to Choso. "He's a little rough. Definitely needs some polishing Up. But he's hardworking with a will of steel. Naoya is too fucking spoiled. Having this kid around will do him some good."
"But, My kin-"
"Don't even try. He can take a shower if that's all you're worried about. Naoya needs to know how good he has it. I will teach him responsibility, by force if I have to. The future king will not fall due to his own selfishness. This kid is a great tool for that."
Wow. So that was actually real. He really wanted Choso to work for the prince. Even thought he could do him some good.
Naobito turned to him. "I want to see you from the earliest morning light tomorrow, kid. Gakuganji will tell you everything you need to know. You'll be stuck with Naoya throughout his day. Make sure to keep him out of trouble. Use force if you need to, but don't forget he's your prince. You'll be at his service shall he demand anything of you."
With a heart that was ready to jump out of its cage, he nodded. He actually got it. He was working for the king right now. It was almost surreal. The world should be blurring around the edges but it crystal clear, screaming at him that he was awake.
The king dismissed him and Choso left the palace barely keeping his feet on the ground. Seriously, he could almost fly from relief. Two days ago he was being threatned to be kicked out of the only place he could afford in this entire city. One day ago he couldn't serve anything on the dinner table. Last night, he stayed up wondering how he'd take care of his brothers if they ended up on the streets. His brewing anxiety chased any sparse waves of sleepiness he got. But if everything worked out well like the king had promised, he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Maybe he'd get his brothers the meat they've been craving for years now. He'd cross his fingers till they broke if he had to.
So as the buzzing market retreated back into quiet hums and the bustling crowds simmered into a few passerbys, Choso raised his head to see the starry night ahead melting into the setting sun. That was when it hit him that he really hadn't done much for today.
Sure, he got hired at the castle itself, probably landing a job others would only dream of, however, really, he hadn't earned anything today. He had spent the morning looking for any sort of stable job and of course the whole fiasco with his ruler took up most of the day so he had made zero money in that time frame. And that meant that he might have to get them to bed on an empty stomach, *again.* Choso hated that. He loathed that feeling of helplessness at his lack of money. For all he had, he truly wished he could give his brothers every luxury the world had to offer. Yet his almost empty pockets were a cruel reminder of reality. He had merely a few coins in his pocket, barely enough to buy two apples. And so he did. He got what would be enough for his baby brothers . It wouldn't be the first time he went to bed without food, especially this week. In fact, he hadn't put anything in his mouth for days.
Choso pushed the creaky, musty door to his rundown house only to find the cutest little beings sprawled out on the makeshift couch. He couldn't help the small smile that crept up his face. One of his brothers, Yuji, was long gone, knocked out a good few hours ago. The other one, Sukuna, was wide awake, attentive to his surroundings like a hawk searching for prey. He perked up when he saw Choso make his way home. "Nii-chan!" Sukuna jumped on him, nearly knocking Choso off his feet.
"Hi there, big boy!" Choso greeted him back, gently lifting Sukuna into his arms. "Hope you didn't get into trouble."
As Choso took a seat on the semi-couch thing beside sleepy Yuji, Sukuna gave him a firey, excited grin. "I kicked some ass today!" He exclaimed, pumping air fists.
"Language, 'Kuna," Choso gently scolded, a careful hand pinching the child's cheek. "And didn't I tell you not to get into trouble?"
"Whaaaa" Sukuna retorted back. "That's bullshit! You used to say more stuff when I was younger! I remember Nii-san coming bloody and bruised from kicking ass!"
Choso stiffened, going cold beneath Sukuna. Unpleasant memories manifested in his mind as he recalled the days when he was a lost teenagers. He did a lot of things he wasn't particularly proud of, some he couldn't even pronounce out loud and he'd made peace with that (totally not lying ). He'd never be clean and he was okay with it. He didn't want it, however, to rub off on his younger brothers. Because Choso was a lucky bastard, he was blessed with really smart brothers and he knew one way or another, they were aware of some of the things he did. And even if it was just a glimpse, it always drowned him in a sea of guilt.
"Well," He swallowed after a pause. "Nii-san did some mistakes. You shouldn't do like him, okay?" That was all he could manage to say before falling into a puddle of shame.
"Bu-"
"No buts, Sukuna, or do you want me to sell you to the ogre?"
"Noooo, don't sell me to the ogre," Sukuna whined, genuinely scared with the cutest frown ever. "Sell Yuji. He's ugly. The ogre family can eat him."
Choso chuckled, clearly amused with his baby brother and glad the subject steered away from his past. "It's not fair. I wouldn't sell Yuji for the ogre. He's too kind. But since the ogre is mean and ugly, I'll send you over to him. I know you'll make his life hell."
Before Sukuna could come with a smart ass reply, they both heared a faint, groggy "Nii-chan?" coming from beside them. Yuji gingerly rubbed at his eyes, still held captive to the holds of sleep. It was a sight that was enough to make choso's heart melt. "Nii-chan." Yuji repeated, reaching his arms out.
Choso could only comply, lifting Yuji up and setting him on his other leg. "Look who's awake."
"You promised you wouldn't take long! I fell asleep waiting for you!" Yuji grumbled, looking away from Choso.
Though it did sting just a tiny bit, it was ultimately better than both kids starving to death. He'd rather them be lonely than hungry.
"Weeeeell, I had to bring someone food, right?" He pulled out the apples he got them. "See what I gotcha."
"What? Only apples?" Sukuna grumbled again.
"Are we poor?" Yuji quirked an eyebrow with all the innocence in the world.
"I think the correct word is thank you." Choso gently scolded.
"I mean thank you and everything, but..." Little Yuji frowned, hesitant to mouth his objection like the gentle creature he was.
"This sucks! I don't even like apples!" Sukuna finished for him.
"Well, it's either that or you go to bed hungry."
"I'll go to bed hungry." Sukuna challenged.
"I'll sell you to the ogre tomorrow."
This made him back down, genuinely scared and Choso felt just the tiniest bit satisfied at his brother's fear. Really, it was amusing at times.
"What about you, Nii-san?" Yuji looked up with worried eyes, noting how there was only two apples not three. "Where's your apple?"
"I already ate mine earlier. You don't have to worry about me." He swiftly lied, ruffling Yuji's hair in reassurance. It was becoming more frequent these days. No matter how hard Choso tried, gigs were getting harder to find and money became tighter. He lost count of how many times he had to feed his brothers instead of himself.
"Do you think we're stupid or something?" Sukuna teased when Yuji didn't say anything. "You suck at lying." With that they both left him to go play and have food. Well, at least they won't bombard him with questions.
The morning came faster than Choso would've liked it to. The early morning rays chased away his five minutes of peace sooner than desired. He had tried to sleep off the hunger, ignoring his wailing empty stomach. There was genuinely nothing he could fill it with. And so, sleep came in rare waves, each disturbed by a growl of the digestive sack. All in all, it was the farthest from a good night's sleep.
Beside him were the twins, each with limps sprawled out in different directions. He sighed, smiling, before adjusting the cover on them. It was still early and so he had to get up to go to his new job. The twins were old enough to be left alone now, and as much as he hated it, there was no one to keep an eye on them. They were good kids, he thought, they knew how to stay out of trouble. At least one of them did.
Now for his job.... Choso wasn't sure where to start. There was a simmering sort of anxiety bubbling beneath his skin, barely staying beneath the surface. He didn't fit in, knew he never would. Not in a million years. Yet he couldn't show up there with those clothes, with that hair, with that... *Ruined* face. He would stand out immediately. Something about royal ass idiots scrutinizing his form didn't sit right with him. So he did what he always did, try his best to make himself look less horrible.
Thankfully, he had taken a bath not too long ago, so he didn't smell revolting. For clothes, he wore the least tattered that he had. It would at least make him blend with the middle class. A black pair of trousers and a paper thin knit sweater. He decided to brush his oily hair into its usual space buns so it was tame. God, he really craved a shower.
Having been there before, getting into the castle wasn't as hard as the first time. He got through the back door where there was a servant expecting him. Nice. He felt silly for the sense of importance that washed over him. While the servant area wasn't fancy, the actual palace was fancy as fuck. Every inch dripped of wealth and Choso stuck out like a sore thumb. He noted how the servants had a well made suit for a uniform. Perhaps they'd give him one. He really hoped so. He didn't feel too proud showing at the prince's door dress like a haggard.
Sure enough, Gakuganji was waiting for him in some corridor the other servant led him to. He looked at Choso with what could only be described as pure despise. His eyes almost whispered how dare Choso be here, as if he was a bug deserving only to be stepped on. However, he spoke with forced respect, painfully fake politeness, barely hidden disgust. "You're two minutes late. If you want last here you'd have to be punctual."
Choso nodded, not doing much to hide his clear lack of fondness for the man either. Under any other circumstances, he would've gladly punched that condescendence off his big nose.
The old man began to walk, Choso following behind. The servant had gone off to chase other duties. "As you can tell, we all here wear a certain uniform. It indicates our role and the value we bring to this magnificent palace. Each and every outfit is hand made by the most skilled of tailors, using only the finest fabric in the Kingdom."
Choso's heart picked up a beat. Was he going to get one of those too? He couldn't deny it, Gakuganji was wearing a very well made outfit. And he really didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb among the workers. And beside everything else, frankly speaking, he wouldn't hate getting some expensive clothes for free.
"The king didn't mention anything about you needing an outfit and we're not even sure you'll last here, so I'm not going to waste the material. We're better off saving it for a more valuable worker."
The small smile that'd formed quickly fell off his face. He'd already gotten his hopes too high and got smacked back down to reality fast. It did hurt a little being called a worthless addition, even if not outright. Boiling anger replaced bubbling disappointment and he was ready to actually punch that old geezer.
"You got a problem with it?" The geezer raised an eyebrow.
Choso shook his head, masking any emotion that his face displayed. The smirk on the man's face turned smug. "Good to know." He continued walking to the prince's room, hands clasped behind a hunched back. "We also provide our servants with three healthy meals a day. However, the budget has been tight lately and it's my duty to manage resources. We cannot handle one more worker. I believe you're more than capable of handling yourself. So don't go into the kitchen asking for food or you'll get in trouble."
Welp, there goes his dreams of tasting chicken just because this old asshole dislikes him. He'd be working literally all day and he wouldn't even get water.
"The prince usually wakes up at 7 in the morning, a little later than expected but that's what he's used to. He sometimes has his meals in his room and other times with his family in the dining room. It all depends on his mood. Throughout the day, there's various classes he has to take and some duties the king has assigned for him. His day typically ends at 9 in the evening. That's when he has his tea and reads before sleeping."
Choso perked up at the important information, taking it all in. They turned a corridor, Gakuganji spoke again. "Your work day starts when the prince wakes up and ends when he sleeps. You're expected to be there before he gets out of bed and bring him breakfast and help him get ready. You'll always be by the prince's side. You'll do whatever he commands and help him with anything that he needs."
Seemed easy enough. That was exactly what Choso expected anyway. He'd basically be someone's butler and he wasn't exactly thrilled about it but it was better than nothing.
Before they reached that room however, they cross ways with Yaga. His eyes land on Choso. "I've been looking for you."
"Yes?" Choso tilts his head, his face as stoic as Yaga's.
"First off," Yaga placed a heavy hand on Choso's shoulder, knocking his balance a little. "Congratulations on getting this job. To be honest, I didn't think you'd make it. None of us did. The king has peculiar choices indeed."
Choso didn't know what to make of that. He didn't like Yaga that much either, especially with what felt like the back handed compliment he just said. He stepped back, removing Yaga's hand from his shoulder and instantly feeling lighter. "Thank you. I hope I'll get to your expectations."
"Now for the important stuff," Yaga nodded, clearing his throat. "You're not simply here to serve our prince. The young crown has been known to have sever mood issues. He's also very hard headed and never listens. The king wants him to stop getting into trouble and stop with his selfish attitude. So that's why you're here. Basically, we need you to stop the prince from doing anything stupid and just keep him in line like a royal member should. But of course, with all the respect he's entitled to. He's still your prince."
Great, so not only would he serve someone. He'd also be babysitting a spoiled brat. Perfect. Just perfect. As if he didn't already do that at home. But he supposed he could be grateful for the experience.
Choso nodded again, steeling his will. "Alright, I understand." Just like that they reached the chamber of the prince after what felt like forever.
It was only then that Choso realized how nervous he actually was. A small tremor shook his pale hands as he reached out to knock on the wooden door. Before he did, he turned around as if wanting confirmation. Yaga caught on to it and gave him a confident nod. Gakuganji on the on the other hand, looked as disapproving as always. "Go ahead, kid." Yaga said.
At last, he gave three polite knocks. From the other side of the door, he heard a faint but slightly annoyed voice that definitely belonged to a young man. "Come in."
That was the prince. Prince Naoya himself.
Choso really wanted to make a good impression. Just this once, he hoped his stars would align and he wouldn't fuck this up. He really couldn't.
He entered the room with a very carefully masked confidence to hide the anxiety manifesting within. The room looked fancy. Fancier than anything he'd ever seen. It was well put together in a breathtakingly beautiful manner. A beautiful handmade carpet with a king sized bed covered in silk. A hand crafted wardrobe and a matching vanity. Beautiful paintings on the wall and a gleaming gold chandelier. It was simply too pretty for Choso to take in. However, it was all overpowered by the painful mess made in the room.
The finely crafted wardrobe was open hinges wide and clothes spilled out onto every inch of the floor. Expensive, fancy clothes at that. The bed was not made either, its soft blankets sprawled out. On the nightstand was an empty plate and a cup, remnants of a morning breakfast. Finally, lying in the center of all this mess was a young blonde man reading his book on the bed nonchalantly.
He quirked a non interested eyebrow at the three guests of his chambers. "Yes?" Prince Naoya finally said.
Yaga was the first to speak, clearing his throat with barely masked exasperation. "Young prince, this is your personal servant starting from today. His name is Choso."
Before Choso could say anything, Naoya huffed in annoyance. He sent a glare towards Choso. "I can't believe old man actually went through with this. I don't need to be babysat!"
"If so, your highness, what caused this mess?" Yaga pointed to practically the whole room.
"Well," Naoya rolled his eyes. "I was getting ready like everyday but none of you geezers sent anyone like usual. So I left the job for its workers."
Gakuganji just looked in disappointment and Yaga shook his head. "I think the king made the right decision."
"If papa is so wise as to get me a babysitter then he might as well start cleaning up." Naoya laid back in bed, book in hand. He briefly glanced at Choso before going back to what he was reading. "Make sure to close the door behind you and don't interrupt unless necessary."
Five minutes in and Choso already wanted to punch everyone in the room, especially this royal brat. But he held himself back. He wasn't exactly keen on getting beheaded.
Yaga was about to speak but Choso beat him to it. "I can take it from here." He reassured. This can't be harder than getting Sukuna to tidy up, correct?
Wrong. It's much worse as he'd later come to know.
Choso reassured them that he'd be fine before ushering them out. Really, he could manage. He didn't want to owe anyone anything.
Finally after Yaga and the other old geezer left, he let out a relieved sigh. The room felt lighter in a way. Even with a pair of glaring eyes. At least he wasn't judging him, measuring Choso to see what he was worth.
Now, time to get to business.
"Good morning my prince," He gave a polite bow, voice steady. "My name is cho-"
"Yeah, yeah, I already got that part. Just start cleaning already." Naoya waved him off.
"Well," Choso maintained his gentle smile. "I'm not here to clean up after you. I'm here to help you."
Nonetheless, he knelt down and began picking up the clothes and fold them with practiced skill more because it pained him to see such a beautiful room messed up than he cared for the prince.
"You're doing it anyway."
"Because I like to help. And I would very much love for you to start on a clean slate."
"Clean what?" Prince Naoya raised an eyebrow.
"Well, we don't exactly throw our clothes like that when we're getting ready and we don't leave our plates like that after eating-"
"Are you my mom or something? You know I never had to do this before, right?" The prince said, amused with the boldness of this new servant. This should be entertaining.
"Well that has to change," Choso retorted back. He had already finished picking up clothes from the ground. "You're going to rule this entire kingdom one day. Things are already bad as is and I wouldn't trust a leader who can't fold his clothes back in place. And you know what they say, if you want to change the world, start by making your bed."
Naoya sat his book down and gave a sarcastic, dead clap. "Woohoo, so profound I could cry. What are you, a fucking mentor too?"
Choso's eyebrow twitched, his hands itching to deliver a sweet punch to that sour face. "Not at all. I'm just a worried brother and I don't want my young siblings to grow in a shitty country because of an incompetent kid. Things are already bad as is."
Naoya sat up so fast the bed creaked under him. “Say that again, you bastar—”
"Try it. Just try saying it and I'll show you what bastards can do." Choso cut him off, aggressive in a way he hadn't been in a while. Now clothes and tidying up aside, formalities aside, a guy just indirectly disrespected his mother. He would never let that slide. Never.
Now the prince was equally angry too. He was burning with fury. He stood up to where Choso was crouched and yanked him by the collar, strong hands forcing Choso up. “Don’t forget your fucking place,” Naoya snarled, his grip tightening, knuckles pale. “You son of a bitch.”
Before he even had time to blink, Choso had already striked a good punch square to his jaw, sending Naoya back a few steps. In turn, Choso also stumbled to the ground as he was roughly let go. His knuckles hurt, feeling a pulsating ache through them. He hadn’t felt this way in years, the burn of a fight clouding his vision. The prince though, had a forming bruise on his cheek and a split lip trailing blood.
Time seemed to slow down as Choso came back from his blinding rage. Now that the burn slowed down to a simmer, his eyes widened in shock as he actually comprehended what he had done. He had just hit the prince. He hit the *fucking* Prince.
On the other hand, Naoya seemed to be equally out of it, his mind not able to process the fact that he just got hit. This is the first time in his life he has ever been treated with such disrespect. He almost couldn't believe it. He slowly wiped the blood on his lips and stared at his hand in genuine shock.
"What the fuck did you just do?" He whispered, breaking the fragile silence that had formed.
Shaken from his trance, Choso immediately began to panic, his face turning a funny shade of mortifying. He hurried to the prince's side, fluttering from the ever growing anxiety. He had no idea what to do. "I'm so sorry. Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry." The string of apologies fell from his lips like a running waterfall.
As he reached out to cup the prince's cheek to assess the damage closely, a painful, concrete blow hit his face. Naoya took revenge on him. And if he was being honest, it hurt like a bitch. It hurt enough to make Choso want to even out this fight. But he held back before he regretted it anymore. "This is what you get for hitting me, fucker."
Though he ached so badly to get physical (not in the good way ), his fingers longing to form a fist, he held his horses, aiming to be stable. Because honestly, he deserved it. He shouldn't have hit the prince. "Right, my apologies, your highness." He said through grit teeth and a head forced down. It hurt his pride more than his face but he wanted to keep the job and preferably, his life.
Prince Naoya smirked, triumph overtaking his demeanor. "Say that again? I didn't hear you." When Choso stayed silent, opting to glare at the ground instead, he spoke again. "It's a command."
He gulped down the rest of his ego and met the prince's eyes, a silent, begrudging plea on his face. "I said I apologize, your highness. I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what got into me." The words rubbed against his throat like sandpaper but he pushed through. "But please don't tell the king. I can't afford to lose this job. Please."
This made Naoya frown, taking offense into what Choso just said. "What did you just say? Are you stupid? I'm not some weak princess who'd run to her daddy to solve her problems. And you're not important enough to be a problem. We settle this like real men."
"I... Uh- wha-" Choso was dumbfounded, his mind working slowly to catch up with his prince.
"Just get back to what you're doing. We're even for now." The prince grumbled after the fury had bled out of him, unwilling but inevitable, and got back to his book.
Whatever he was blabbering about, at least Choso won't be publicly excuted, and for that, he had to thank his lucky stars.
In the tense silence that followed, he was able to tidy up the scattered clothes into an organized wardrobe. Every once in a while, he'd be taken aback by how soft the fabric was. He never imagined that clothes could be this comforting. He also took away the dirty breakfast dishes to the kitchen and came back with a steaming cup of tea, hoping that this would ease the tension that settled upon them like a blanket.
When he passed by the vanity mirror, he saw the angry bruise that had formed on his cheek from the sneaky punch he took. It had been a long while since he'd been hit and it didn't exactly trigger pleasant memories. He set the cup on the bedside table without much acknowledgment from the prince, but caught a glimpse of the others face and a cold realization hit him. (For the second time that day) Prince Naoya had a growing bruise on his cheek, splashed a nasty shade of blue. It was only a matter of time before somebody sees it and sentences him dead.
True to his dismay, while Naoya was sipping his tea, an impatient knock went through the door. Choso opened the door, slightly annoyed by the demanding person. A tall man with a full build stared at him. He had spikey black hair and tired, sharp eyes. Pushing past Choso, the man's strides were percise as he stood in front of the not caring prince. "Naoya-sama, you're twenty minutes late for your swordsmanship training."
The prince, still engulfed in this god forsaken book, simply shrugged his shoulders. "My servant never informed me about any training today."
That ass— now that was low, even for the prince. "How was I supposed to know?" Choso blurted out. "No one informed me of any schedule."
The man looked disinterested, mildly amused if you squint. He adjusted the tie on his neck, speaking to no one in particular. "So the rumors are true. The king hired an incompetent peasant. Sometimes I wonder what goes through his head."
Naoya snorted. "We share the same sentiment, Higurama-sensei. What is daddy thinking about?"
Daddy? That caught Choso off guard. He let out a sneaky giggle making both pairs of eyes land on him. The royal ones in particular sending him a glare. The Higurama man picked up instantly on the banter. He looked the prince up and down. "Did you get hit today, your majesty?"
"What?" Naoya turned to glare at him full force. "Of course not! I'm not a weakling, Sensei. Nobody's been able to land a hit on me in years."
"Then what is tha-"
"I fell this morning." The prince said through grinded teath. It sounded desperately final, like he begged – in a dignified way— for the topic to end.
"That must have been a tough hit, my prince." Higurama-sensei concluded, his expression jumping from wondering to amused. "I will see you in the garden in ten, please take your weapons with you."
As soon as the door closed behind the man, the room felt lighter, like the anticipating weight as been lifted off. Both Choso and Naoya shared a welcomed relief now that no scrutinizing eye was weighing them down. The prince, to Choso's surprise, let out a sigh. His voice dropped, tight and hushed. "We dodged disaster by seconds. You’re lucky I’m merciful today. Next time you get sloppy, I won’t wait for the guards. I’ll do the damn beheading myself."
Choso only nodded, equally filled with distaste. Though he had his own suspicions that the teacher didn't believe them. He looked far too skeptic for Choso's liking.
"What do you need for your training, your highness?" He asked as he opened the heavy door of the oak closet. There, besides the neatly folded clothes was a couple of sheathed swords, tall enough to reach Choso's hip. The cover of one of them was a beautiful shiny silver, embroidered with red ruby and glaring emeralds. It caught Choso's eye as he found himself unconsciously leaning towards it.
"The big one, covered with gems." The prince said.
"But it's too beautiful to be used in training." He held the big sword in his hands, quality craftsmanship dripped from each corner, the weight resting heavy in his hand. If Choso had his way, he'd rather keep this sword hidden, protected somewhere safe. "Aren't you afraid to get it scratched or damaged?"
"This what swords are for, dumbass." The prince said while he put on his shoes. "Besides, it's a shame to keep it hidden. Such beauty is meant to last. It can withstand war."
"I wonder where'd you get it? Is it an heirloom?" Choso aksed absentmindedly, examining the gorgeous hilt of the sword. From the corner of his eye, he could see the prince's gaze soften, his eyes staring into nothingness as if he recalled a past memory. It took him a beat before he replied.
"Sort of. It's a... gift."
Before he could ask any further questions, Naoya got up and headed for the door. "C'mon, we can't keep sensei waiting."
In the garden, Higurama was waiting for them, shirt slightly unbuttoned and forehead. beading with sweat. The sun cast a golden shine on him, reflecting off his aged sword resting on his shoulder. Choso was panting, out of breath as he was carrying Naoya's heavy sword, chest plate armor and bag of necessities of water and the like. Even for a strong boy like him, carrying such heavy stuff through a few flights of stairs, a garden and under the scorching hot sun tired him out. Naoya on the other hand looked pristine, perfect in every way a prince should. Not even a wrinkle on his clothes. And yet, Choso knew better than to take him as a spoiled weakling. If the bruise on his face was anything to go by. And he could clearly see the athletic form hid behind the royal fabrics.
The prince took the sword from Choso with practiced ease, unsheathing and moving it like it was made of paper. Choso couldn't help the flare of jealousy that surged through his chest. He thought he was strong and yet he could barely get this sword without falling. The prince must've been doing this for years to be able to weild iron like it's cotton. He wished he could be like that, strong, confident and quietly threatening.
Standing under the shade of a willow tree, he watched like a hawk as Naoya sparred with his teacher, both of magnificent skill to Choso. It was his first time watching a sparring match. Higurama held years of practiced ease in his grasp, almost like he memorized the movements, could tell what Naoya's next move would be. He tore through his openings like a hot knife. The prince on the other hand was focused, eyes burning with locked in intensity. He could see one thing and one thing only, his target. Each time Higurama launched at him, he barely avoided it, going in for the kill without hesitation no matter how many times he got dodged. He had a glaring ferocity that Choso hadn't seen before. On the battle field he almost looked...free. Not the fabricated facade he had been showing Choso since the morning, but actually free to move without any burdens.
After a squandering fight and a good amount of effort, the prince landed a hit on his tutor. A slash on the shoulder that only tore through fabric and not flesh. Stumbling back to where Choso stood, Naoya, heaving for air and sweating like a fountain, leaned on Choso before his legs gave out. The other caught him like it was instinct. Despite that, he had a glorious smirk on his face, like he just won a thousand wars.
"I won again, Sensei."
Higurama nodded, straightening whats left of his shirt. "Hard and earned, my prince."
Choso handed him a water bottle and wiped the sweat off his prince's forehead. Neither commented on it. In fact, neither noticed. It somehow felt natural. A ryrhem carved into their blood. If Choso from earlier this morning had seen this, he would have been mortified, puked right then and there perhaps. But Choso of the present did his job to the best of his abilities. Choso of the present was only focusing on how much stronger he wanted to get, of how he found this sparring fascinating, wishing he could do that like them.
"What are you staring at, peasant?" Higurama said. His tone was not particularly cruel, just neutral. Asked like a true question.
He jolted back to reality, only now realizing he'd been staring at Higurama and the way he wielded his sword. The teacher was expectant of an answer. Feeling caught, Choso looked down at the ground. "I was just... Admiring the fight." He said, voice low, very unlike Choso.
"What do you like about it?"
"Strength," Choso said. "The ability to not be powerless and take on a fight."
"You know," Higurama scratched his chin, eyeing Choso like he could see potential. "I could make something out of you, with some hard work and a miracle. And my future king's approval."
"That would be funny," Naoya scoffed. "What need does he have to learn swordsmanship anyway?"
"He can defend you if anything happens."
The prince snorted like the idea was funny to him. It was somewhere between a snort and a scoff actually, as if the mere concept of it personally offended him. "I don't need anyone to defend me. He's merely here because my father insisted on it. I don't need protection, Sensei."
"He could be your training dummy when you need one." Higurama offered.
"Hmm," Naoya looked deep in thought. "No one in this castle is a worthy opponent except you, sensei. He might cure my boredom after all." He walked over to the table in the shade, sitting beside it and waving behind his back. "Alright, do whatever you want. Just don't kill him."
Walking over to Naoya, Choso handed him his book that he was reading this morning without a word, whispering a silent 'thank you' before heading back to Higurama.
Choso felt grateful. He really was. Though he knew that Naoya is only letting him be trained so he can win against him and boost his ego and Higurama just thinks it would be interesting to see a peasant learn the arts like he was a lab rat. Still, he would seize this chance anyway. He would take any chance he got to learn something useful.
He stood before Higurama, reaching down for the silver sword Naoya left on the damp grass. However, his voice cut through the air, sharp and sudden. "Sensei, don't let him touch my sword! He can use his own damn sword!"
Right. He almost forgot it was Naoya they were talking about. Higurama sighed and gave Choso his own plain sword. "This one means a lot to him. You're not to touch it. Let alone, spare with it."
Choso held the old, simple sword, heavy but not fancy in his hands. He felt safer this way too. He had always been anxious carrying valuable stuff.
Higurama-sensei adjusted his hold, telling Choso what to do. Slowly, he began easing into the movements. The man's voice was gruff, talking his ear off about swordsmanship basics and what Choso was doing wrong and the right way to do it. The minutes passed by in a breeze as he got caught up in the momentum and before he noticed, it had already been an hour. Worn out and exhausted, he collapsed on the ground under the scorching hot sun, yearning for a splash of water.
"You did surprisingly good for a peasant." Higurama commented nonchalantly. "Have you had any training before?"
Choso shook his head no from the ground.
"Yeah, the streets are a great place to learn I suppose."
"You should see yourself," prince Naoya laughed. "You look like a wet dog."
Choso turned to send him a glare. He might look disheveled, but he was proud of his hard work. "That's the price of strength and effort, your honor. Not sure you'll know much about it."
"Why, you little-"
"Hold your horses, both of you. I don't want this garden to turn into a murder scene." The teacher said, cutting off any potential escalations.
The prince snorted again. "As if. I can kill him if I want to."
"Right, that bruise says it all." His teacher agreed calmly.
Naoya was mortified, turning to his teacher like he just commited treason. "I told you I fell hard!"
Tired and worn out, Choso had to carry the sword, bag and chest plate back up a few flights of stairs again, all without even a mouthful of water. By the time he reached the chamber again, he was ready to drop dead.
"I'll take a shower and then go to the dining room." Naoya said after a beat of silence. He slipped into the shower before Choso could reply. Meanwhile, he picked up a comfortable outfit for the prince to wear for the meal.
Fifteen minutes later and the prince emerged with a towel on his waist, hair dripping wet, looking gorgeou— looking around for his clothes. Choso immediately handed him his clothes and next time he emerged he was dressed up, hair comped and ready to eat.
They didn't exchange any words as they headed for the dining room, the tension between them growing tighter. The prince still disliked Choso. Choso still disliked the prince. He was still anxious about potentially getting beheaded. All in all, not a good atmosphere.
As they reached the dining hall, Choso opened the handmade, gold painted door knob for him, following the prince inside. The entire royal family was sat on the dining table, food of various types of fruits, meats and appetizers sat there cunningly. Choso was almost dizzy, about to throw up from the sheer amount of food present. This might've been the most amount of food he'd ever seen in one sitting.
Naoya sat beside what Choso assumed to be one of his brothers, near the edge of the table. One thing Choso noted was how they're was one empty chair sitting there uninhabited. Naoya glanced up at him before he picked up his fork. "Aren't you going to the servants area to eat?"
Choso could feel his stomach rumble, mouth watering at the food in front of Naoya. But he bit his hunger down and shook his head no matter how hungry he was. Seems like Naoya doesn't know much about how it works when you're not a prince. "I'm not hungry, your majesty. I'll stay by your side."
"You're fucking weird," He murmured but didn't comment on it further.
A few minutes later, king Naobito joined the family. He sat on the chair at the head of the table and the that was when they all began to eat. Immediately, he could feel Naoya's shift in mood, like a grey cloud settling over him.
"So, Naoya, how is the new boy faring with you?" King Naobito asks between a bite and a sip.
"Great if you think I need a babysitter, father." Naoya spat back. That made his two brothers snicker at him.
"I think you can benefit from some lessons if you want a chance in running this kingdom." The king replied smoothly.
"And what can this raggedy slave teach me, huh?" Naoya glared, clenching his fork.
"Some responsibility. You're too hard headed and you never listen to your teachers."
"And you think having him follow me around will make me listen to those idiots?!"
"I'm willing to take the chance." The king said, leaning back in finality.
"I do have to say, though, father," One of the brothers interjected. "This peasant looks horribly poor. Couldn't you find anyone better? He doesn't even match the lowest servant we have."
Suddenly, four pairs of scrutinizing eyes were on him, measuring him. Naoya wasn't looking at him, though. Only the rest of them weighing if he was worth it. He felt small. Choso wanted to disappear, to get as far away from this room as possible. It got harder to breath the more they looked at him, stripped him bare with no dignity and a shattered pride.
The other brother curled his lip into a smirk. “Guess he packs a punch after all. Looks like you’re due for a few lessons, weakling.”
Naoya shot up from his seat, eyes burning like a thousand embers, thrumming with hating fire at his brother's insult. "*No one* can leave a bruise on me," He said lowly. He grabbed Choso by the collar and yanked him forward, dragging him towards the door to leave. "This worthless animal is nothing to me. Look and see, all of you!"
The door closed with a slam and he roughly let go of Choso, sending him stumbling a few steps back.
"This is all your fault!" He glared at Choso, pointing an accusing finger. "You gave them something to laugh about."
Then, he grabbed a fistful of his shirt again. "Give me one fucking reason not to kill you right now."
With Naoya seething down his nose, Choso was losing hope that he would be able to last in this. Just on his first day, he got into two fights with the prince himself.
"No reason," He said after a moment of silence pulled taught, "Other than the kindness of your heart. I admit I am a bit impulsive," His eyes travel back to the nasty bruise on Naoya's cheek. "So don't be like me. You don't wanna prove them right, do you? Show them how mature you can be that you forgave such a disrespectful servant after all these transgressions."
Naoya's eyes flicked in thought, the words replaying in his mind. Finally, the fire lowered to a flickering flame and the tension laxed for a second. He turned on his heal back to his room. "You're lucky I'm generous. Go get me a fucking drink now, will ya."
Sigh.
And Choso didn't know he was such a good diplomate, a skilled manipulator. He learned something about himself.
Well, the more you live.
The rest of the night was spent in pure silence, one that is packed with uncertainty and frustration. He brought the prince his nighttime tea and the other spent his last waking moments sipping it and continuing with the book he'd had his nose in since the morning. Choso spent it willing off the hunger that continued to gnaw away at his insides.
Really, the dichotomy of the world struck him in strange ways at times. Here he was, hungry, tired and aching to the bones, fearing for his life and how to provide for his siblings while just on the other end of the room, someone was comfortably warm and full, privileged enough to not worry about money. Still, in some strange way, Choso did not find it in himself to resent the prince for being fortunate and it wasn't like any of them had a choice in where they were born. He only had his bad luck to blame. At least someone wasn't starving.
The night went faster when he was lost in thought and soon enough the prince put his book down and ushered Choso out. He turned off the candle and closed the door behind him.
Most of the castle had already went out and there was only the ambient silence of night bugs and distant flickering flame. As he made his way home, the only thing he'd come across was the occasional night guards eyeing him warily. The rest of the city is as silent as the castle, leave for the bars and the few places you wouldn't want to frequent lest you wanted trouble.
Back home, the old wooden door screeched as he pushed it open, breaking the tender silence just slightly. Sukuna and Yuji were sprawled out on the old bedding, covered by a threadbare blanket. Something in him swelled with warmth at the sight of his two precious beans. Seeing them deep into slumber like that reminded him of his own growing exhaustion. He had to sleep before the hunger took him down.
Slowly, he took off his boots and joined them, curling in a way that stretchd his back uncomfortably. Still, Choso wouldn't trade this moment for the world, here, next to the twins, safe and sound.
As he drifted off to sleep, he mulled over the events of the day. Things went south, but like always, he somehow made it through. All in all, it wasn't the worst of his days. He could do this for a while longer, he thought. If only for his dear brothers.