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Perched on the westernmost point of the Iabert continent, the great Soledo Empire is home to a vastness of wonders. From the great ports unlike anything one might find in this continent or the next, to the precious jewels that arrive from the mines in the mountains up north, few in the world are the countries capable of equaling Soledo's wealth. No other in Iabert certainly can.
In another, more fairy tale kind of story, the Soledo Empire would be the most perfect of the perfect places. An utopia in and out of itself, where everything's good and fair and princes are allowed to roam around in the woods as they get acquainted with the most beautiful of the princesses.
This, however, is not such a story.
(And not only because the prince in question has never had much interest in princesses of any kind.)
So here's the ugly truth: wealth invites envy, invites greed. Which means that the Soledo Empire, with all its beautiful cities and luxurious fields and constant innovations, is on the brink of a war with the neighboring Kingdom of Kleim over the mines in the north. Which means that for each person that lives in the most unimaginable of the mansions, at least a thousand spend their days counting the change in their pockets and doing that sort of desperate math that comes from the knowledge that it's all they have to live by.
The Second Prince of the Empire, Prince Suo Hayato, the Jewel of the People, knows it better than anyone.
For all that he might just be a couple of years into his adulthood, in contrast to his older brother and sister, he's spent half of his childhood pouring over matters such as these. Where his siblings ran from the library as soon as their classes were done for the day, Hayato always remained behind. Just switched one book for the other and kept on reading until someone decided to remember his existence. And the sort of things he's found through the years-
It has helped him understand, at the very least. Why did a group of men look at a nine year old and decide that one of his eyes was the best proof of life they could send to his parents. Why he nearly died from the resulting infection, having to be rushed nearly half-way through the country to find the closest medic qualified enough to deal with it.
So he has to do better, needs to do better. To better the Empire for all the people that live in it, not just the wealthiest of the wealthy.
With his parents and older siblings divided between the Kleim and the Drunhull courts, working to ease away tensions and negotiate marriages, the weight of the nation has been left on his shoulders. Which is as good as it is bad. The amount of laws and measures he's pushed these past few months, arguing his way through the stone-heavy convictions of the members of the Council, is ground-breaking. Amazing. Hayato has never felt prouder of himself in his life.
He has also never felt more tired.
The last full night of sleep he's had? Probably the week before his parents left the palace. The last time he ate a meal without his faithful papers by his side? The past weekend, and only because he got himself a stubborn mule of a personal guard that imposed a minimum of two meals a week without paperwork. At the risk of finding himself dragged out of his study otherwise. The last time he got out of the palace? A good two months ago, to personally overview the delivery of vaccines to the city hospital and show by example that they should be welcomed, not feared.
It’s been hard, yes. Without a doubt. Will he keep doing it? Using and abusing how much the elders of the Council underestimate him to deceive them into getting his propositions approved, even if it means pouring over the same document over and over again? Spending nights on end rewriting paragraph after paragraph to hide away clauses and enough dubious words with which to shield himself later, when they eventually come for his head?
Without. a. single. doubt.
There's still so much to be done, so much to be improved. This is probably a one in a lifetime chance, and one that he has the obligation to use as wisely as he can.
So he needs to keep going, needs to keep working, needs t-
“What you need is a good night of sleep. And don't even try to argue with me.”
Hayato blinks up at his guard, fuzzy brain taking stock of the arms crossed right in front of his face and, further up, of the terrible scowl marring the man's features. Were he a bit more awake and he'd have noticed the tick of worry lining up the downwards set of his mouth, the tension betrayed by the line of his shoulders.
But he doesn't. Beyond the fact that a) Sakura is blocking his access to the bill about the requalification of the Zhiphia university, b) Sakura doesn't look the slightest bit happy with Hayato and c) he's blocking his access to the papers he's been working on, Hayato can't really comprehend much of anything right now.
“Sakura-kun?” a look at the wall clock confirms his suspicions. It's well past three in the morning, when Hayato's sure he'd dismissed the other a little past midnight. “What are you doing up so late? I thought you'd already gone to sleep.”
“And then who would've kept you from knocking out a candle and setting the whole place on fire?”
Hayato frowns, unconsciously reaching out to place a hand on the jut of Sakura's hip. He barely feels the way the man stiffens at the contact, too entertained in trying to follow the lines of his hipbone over his clothes to pay much attention to the stuttering of his breath.
It takes him a bit before he remembers what they were talking about. More than he feels comfortable in admitting to, and he dearly hopes Sakura didn't notice the unnatural pause.
“I don't have any candles on my desk, though.” It's true, anyhow. He learnt it the last time he accidentally knocked one over and had to re-write the sixteen pages of a nearly finished document. And nearly gave Sakura a heart attack as he woke him up to help put out the resulting fire.
So, maybe, just maybe, Sakura's fears were not completely unfounded.
“Mm, that's true” his guard considers, voice now gentler and so far from the previous gruffness that Hayato looks up at him once more, trying to work out the cause of such a drastic change in tone. “I was the one who moved them away, remember?”
He was? Yes, Hayato supposes he was. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers coming into the office one day - night? - and finding Sakura hunched over the biggest candle holder Hayato had ever seen. One that would keep a couple of candles close enough for him to work into the night, but far enough not to cause another incident.
He also remembers being assaulted by a sudden, raw desire to press himself closer to Sakura and kiss the breath out of his lips. Of studying the dip of his waist and wondering how it would feel beneath his hands, were he to give way to his impulses.
Out of its own volition, his hand reaches higher, fits itself over Sakura's waist and squeezes. Only to be disappointed when the material of his vest is much too thick, much too uncooperative for him to properly be able to feel the skin beneath.
Hayato should order him a set of lighter, thinner clothes. Though he's pretty sure there's a reason why Sakura's clothes are so thick in the first place-
“-ce Suo” fingers snap once, twice in front of his face “Prince Suo, are you listening? Gods, how can you get any work done when you're like this?”
Work? Yes, that's right, he was supposed to be working. There's this bill that he has to present to the Council until the end of the week but he keeps getting stuck on the same paragraph and-
A hand cups his chin, fingers calloused but gentle as can be. The touch is so warm, so achingly gentle that Hayato finds himself leaning into it with a jarring sort of helplessness, as if there was nothing else in the world he could imagine himself to be doing in the moment.
His eye flutters closed at its own volition, the feeling of the barely there swipe of a thumb over his chin, the underside of his lips, far too much for him to handle.
When was the last time he was touched like this? Treated like something to be cared for?
And by Sakura, of all people. Who is so good and so honest and makes it so easy for Hayato to be honest in return. Who stands up to him and for him, and will just as readily call Hayato out on a lie as he will defend him in front of whomever dares to speak badly of the Second Prince in his presence.
He's special like that. Precious. So close and yet so far that sometimes Hayato wants to go back to the day they met and avoid it at all. If only for the chance of getting to know a Sakura that is not his personal guard, untouchable precisely because he's so close.
But then he tries to imagine what it would feel like to go back to the days before Sakura, without his constant presence by Hayato's side and his quiet reassurance and not so quiet quips. The images his mind conjures are sour enough to deprive him of any appetite.
His quiet musings are interrupted by Sakura, as he says:
“Come on, my Prince, let's get you to bed” Haruka says as he gazes down at his exhausted Prince. And he must be exhausted indeed, to have let Haruka catch him babbling and glaring down at his documents.
His words have the Prince stirring up, a lethargic reaction that does nothing to ease Haruka's worries. Not only doesn't Haruka remember the last time the Prince had a full night of sleep, but he's been sleeping even less than usual this past week, what with the stress of a Council meeting looming on the horizon. And one that promises to be intense, given the topic of discussion.
While Haruka has never personally attended Zhiphia University, nor met anyone who did, it's one of the things any person in the Empire knows about. And after many weeks of guarding the Prince while he worked on his proposition, listening to his sleep-fueled rambles and reading a couple of paragraphs over his shoulder, it would be impossible not to know anything about it.
Once one of the great prides of the Empire, reduced to an institution on the verge of collapsing. The war effort during the reign of the previous Emperor, Prince Suo's grandfather, had diverted all but the utmost essential funding from the University. And the current Emperor, while at the throne for close to a decade now, hasn't done much to change it.
Enter one Suo Hayato, stubborn as a mule to the point of making Haruka want to tear his hair out and hide him away in a pot somewhere. It's not his fault, he thinks, to have found himself endeared by this man that so persistently fights for what he believes to be right.
Man that seems to have forgotten how human he is, and how dependent on sleep that makes him. Not for much longer, though, if Haruka has any say in it.
And if anyone says anything about his methods? The contract he signed explicitly says he shall strive to preserve the Prince's well-being to the best of his capabilities. Isn't that precisely what he's doing?
Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he combs the Prince's hair with his free hand, comforted by the shield that is the fact that the Prince is probably too high on sleep deprivation to remember any of this tomorrow.
If nobody else remembers, Haruka can pretend it never happened, while storing away the feel of silken auburn strands through the tips of his fingers, the warmth of his skin and how sweetly he responds to Haruka's words.
“Come on, my Prince” he tries again, praying for that sole ruby eye to open “you'll think better after a good night of sleep.”
Though quiet and as still as a living statue, he knows the Prince to be awake. His breaths are too light, his position is still too straight, holding most of his own weight to avoid slumping forward. And his hand. Haruka can still feel his hand thumbing at his hipbone.
He's trying not to think too hard about that.
Eventually - finally - Prince Suo opens his eye. Hazy and unfocused, giving the impression that he's even closer to falling asleep on the spot than he was before. But it's progress.
Now if only Haruka can get him to bed without any complications.
“Can you stand up?”
“I- can't” okay then. While not optimal, Haruka supposes he can just carry h- “I still need to finish this page today, Sakura-kun.”
Haruka takes a glance at such ‘page’. There's barely two lines written, the rest a sad, empty space. And even then, he just knows that, if given the chance, the Prince wouldn't stop at that.
Stubborn as a mule, even while half asleep.
Well, too bad for him that he hired himself a guard just as stubborn. And one that isn't nearly half as sleep deprived as him - even if lately Haruka has been stretching his shifts more and more.
“The document isn't going to eat you if you don't finish it today or tomorrow, you know? You could afford to sleep a bit.”
A violent shake of head. Or, at least, as violent as the Prince can seemingly manage while fighting sleep with teeth and nails. Which is to say, not much. “Is my only chance” laced with sleep as they are, Haruka has to fight to comprehend his words. “They'll come back soon so I have to get it perfect at the first try.”
“And can you do it in this state?” Blinking owlishly up at him, the Prince offers no answer, so Haruka tries to prod a bit further. “Wouldn't it be better to take a nap for two or three hours and come back with a fresher mind?”
Haruka lets him mull on the answer for a couple of minutes, content to stand back and let the Prince argue with himself over the best choice to make.
“I suppose you're right” good. Haruka won't have to take any drastic measures then.
Well, not too drastic, anyhow.
Hayato lets himself be guided towards his bedroom without complaint. A quip about being perfectly fine to walk on his own seats on the tip of his tongue, but right there is where it'll stay. After nearly toppling his chair over while trying to stand up - only Sakura's quick reaction sparing him of the humiliation - it's probably for the best not to try his luck any further tonight.
Besides, it's nice. Sakura is warm and strong and smells really good, so good that Hayato has to remind himself every ten seconds that burying his face in the other's neck is inappropriate. The fact that he has Hayato all pressed up against him makes it even harder.
“Thanks for helping me, Sakura” he finds himself saying at some point, conscious enough to know he's speaking but not enough to filter the contents. “I don't know what I would've done without you.”
A little snort. “Probably fall asleep on your desk. Drool over some documents.”
Though his brain faintly registers the tease, he doesn't rise to it. Instead, he adds:
“No, no, not just today. I couldn't have done this all without you, you know? You've been- you've been taking care of me and… it's much beyond what is asked of you. I don't-”
Sakura sniffs at that, leaning Hayato more fully against the line of his shoulders so he can reach over and open the door to his inner quarters. Hayato is happy enough to let him manhandle him around as he pleases, never one to complain at the chance of being closer to Sakura.
“I'd say it was no trouble, but we both know you're a lot of trouble” except that he sounds so fond about it that it takes Hayato by surprise. Not that he doesn't love their usual back and forth, but this? This tone?
It tugs at something on his chest, a warm, jittery feeling that makes him want to be stupid beyond reason and risk himself a punch for the trouble of kissing his personal guard.
Maybe he's even more stupid for hoping he might not be punched at all.
“Even so” Sakura continues, seemingly not noticing Hayato's inner turmoil as he walks them to the bedroom, “you're doing a great job. I want to help you as much as I can.”
It's only fortunate they've already reached the bedroom by them, as Hayato finds himself collapsing on top of the bed, not an ounce of strength left in his legs. His brain, simultaneously too full and too empty, struggles to find a suitable answer.
He's been praised by his efforts before, yes. The people he's helped, either directly or indirectly, always shower him in praise and appreciation whenever he manages to make time to do some rounds around the city. Likewise, the more progressive ministers are always more than happy to catch him for a brief word and praise him to the heavens and back.
But none of it sounds like Sakura's words did. Perhaps because this praise comes from someone who has seen every high and low Hayato has powered through. Who has remained by his side through sleepless nights and skipped meals and sparring sessions at the most orthodox hours because Hayato's brain decided to stop cooperating.
This comes from someone who has seen it all, the good and the ugly and everything in between, and not only decided Hayato's done a good job, but that he’ll keep on helping however he can.
And coming from Sakura? There's no way those are empty platitudes.
So in a voice much too close to a whine but might just be a choked off sob, he finds himself thanking his guard, far more sincerely than he's ever done to anyone in a long time.
It earns him Sakura's hands in his hair once more, a gentle movement that makes Hayato melt all over, body pending forward out of its own volition. The other doesn't say anything, but Hayato doesn't need him to. His touch is all the answer he needs.
“Time for bed, my Prince” Sakura eventually says, slowly stepping back. Hayato's body follows him for a moment too long, before it seemingly remembers itself and its ability to stand on its own. “I'll go get you a cup of tea while you get ready.”
And so it is. Hayato uses the time while Sakura is away to change into lighter clothes, for once not bothering to fold his old ones before putting them away. Not putting his pants on backwards already feels like too much of a challenge.
By the time Sakura comes back, he's already seated beneath the sheets, only his black leather eyepatch lasting as a reminder of the Prince on Hayato. The cup he hands him is perfectly prepared, as always, though Hayato doesn't quite recognize the blend. Perhaps he's more tired than he’d thought.
Sakura certainly seems to think so, from the way he hovers just by Hayato's bed, worrying the pommel of his sword beneath his hand. Just as Hayato has noticed him doing whenever he's nervous.
“Are you worried I'll drop tea all over myself, Sakura-kun?” he tries to tease, though it comes out weak and quite more muddled than Hayato would like it to. Maybe, just maybe, Sakura's worries aren't entirely unfounded.
“The healers don't like me very much already, for punching you back when we first met.” With an amused smirk, he adds “I don't need them to hate me even more for letting their precious Prince burn himself.”
“Except Healer Yenn” he yawns, feeling his eye close despite himself “he has… ah, he has…”
The tea cup is taken away from his hands, though Hayato's brain is almost too muddled for him to notice it. Hands reach for his shoulders, gently pushing him down further into the pillows.
What he hears next might as well be just the beginning of a dream, “Sleep well, Hayato.”
And he does.
Kiryu is woken up by a loud banging at his front door. Jumping out of bed, he casts a glance at the windows as he hurries for the door.
But no, it's still completely dark outside. Not even a trace of the sun yet.
So he hasn't overslept. Is that good? Is that bad? Is the castle under attack? Has someone been injured? Wh-
When he slams the door open, it's to find Sakura standing on the other side. Though his expression is a bit more serious than what Kiryu is used to, he sees no trace of anxiety or urgency or anything that might have warranted such a rude awakening.
“Sakura?”
“Kiryu, I need a favor.”
“Of course” is that even a question? After all that Sakura has done for him? And it's not like he's going to ask Kiryu to help him hide a body or something, right?
“Will you take my shift today, guarding Prince Suo?” Before he can even open his mouth, Sakura adds “he'll probably sleep in until late afternoon, but I won't be able to come back before nightfall. Think you can hold the fort until then?”
Kiryu blinks, once, twice “of course.” But then his brain catches up with the torrent of information and “what do you mean come back? And wait, until late afternoon? But the Prince-”
“I took care of it, don't worry.”
He… took care of it? What? How?
“...Sakura?” trepidation seeps into his words, and he finds himself clutching at the door frame on instinct. “Have you done… something to His Highness?”
“Don't worry about it” Sakura pacifies, patting him on the shoulder. Which is just about the recipe for Kiryu to worry even more, thank you very much. “I'll be counting on you, then. Thanks.”
And with that he's out, down the corridor before Kiryu can even think to stop him. Off to god knows where, after doing god knows what to His Royal freaking Highness.
Oh boy.
His Royal Highness, the Second Prince of the Soledo Empire, the Jewel of the People, stares at him over the desk of his inner quarters. His smile is perfectly pleasant, his shoulders perfectly poised and there's not a single hair of his out of place. All in all, he looks just like he always does, calm and polite and normal .
And yet.
That glint sparkling on a sole red eye? There's nothing even remotely normal about it.
Kiryu is not sweating. He's not! It's just… hot in this part of the palace. Yes, that's it. Very, very hot.
(Nevermind the fact that most of the windows are open to let in the cool night breeze.)
“So you said that Sakura asked you to do his shift for him, yes?” Kiryu nods, not quite confident enough in his voice to dare speak unless absolutely necessary. “And he didn't tell you where he went. Nor why.”
“No, Your Highness. Only that he'd be back by nightfall.”
The Second Prince glances out of the window, quite pointedly in Kiryu's humble opinion. Kiryu feels his left cheek start to tremble with the effort of keeping his smile. Though, by now, it must be more yellow than a lemon.
Sakura, where are you?
“It's almost midnight by now” the Prince turns his attention back to Kiryu, tap, tap, tapping the tip of his pointer finger on his armrest. “Maybe you got the message wrong?”
Kiryu swallows. His smile slips. Should he start praying?
The door slams open and in Sakura marches, dressed down in civilian clothes and dragging… someone? behind him. Someone who honestly doesn't seem too keen on being dragged at all, but with both stubbornness and strength on Sakura's side, the battle's winner is more than clear.
Honestly, Kiryu is more than ready to go to sleep. He's pretty sure he can hear his bed calling him from a couple doors down, as alluring as a siren. Maybe, if he doesn't make any noise, he can just slink along the wall unnoticed?
“Good to finally see you again, Sakura-kun” the Prince says, all attention now turned to his personal guard. Kiryu watches the figure behind him jump at the sound of the Prince's voice, pressing themselves further against Sakura's back. “Were you after more of those wonderful leaves you gave me to drink last night?”
“Oh, fuck off, you needed that sleep and you know it” Sakura grumbles back, because he's a fearless man who makes a pastime out of looking danger in the face and laughing. “Besides, I even brought you back a gift.”
Shifting his attention back towards the Prince, Kiryu watches him blink, startled. A feeling that only worsens when Sakura steps aside and places a hand on the unknown's shoulder, who just about jumps a meter high.
Sudden as it is, the movement makes the hood fall from his head, revealing blond hair that catches the candlelight and the ashen face of someone whose soul is just about to leave their body.
“This is Nirei Akihiko, Social Studies graduate from Zhiphia University two years ago. Most knowledgeable person about anything that happens inside this city.”
“I-i-it's a pleasure t-to meet you, Your Ro-royal H-Highness!”
A glint of interest takes over the Prince's face, only getting more pronounced as he takes in Nirei's trembling frame. For the sake of his mental sanity, Kiryu doesn't even try to guess what sort of thing has he gotten himself involved in, for a whole freaking person to be considered a ‘gift’.
“My, my, Sakura-kun, you do bring me the most interesting strays” finally purrs His Royal Highness, resting his cheek on top of a closed fist. “And the most thoughtful gifts, it seems.”
Yeah, that? Kiryu isn't going to touch that, not even with a barge pole.