Chapter Text
The rising sun streams golden through thin white curtains; warming silken sheets and the body lying cocooned in them. Feeling the wayward rays on his skin, Tooru frowns, shifting in his sleep.
“Wake up, my prince,” A gentle voice floats softly through the air. It's accompanied by the sound of the door shutting quietly behind equally muted footsteps. “It is almost midday.”
Tooru groans lightly and curls in on himself. The tendrils of sleep are receding quickly, but Tooru isn’t quite ready to let go yet. "A while more, Suga-chan...”
“I didn’t want to do this today, of all days,” Suga’s voice is much nearer than it had been, steel-edged with determination yet light with mischief. “But you leave me no choice, my liege.”
Tooru falls off the side of the bed with a loud squawk when something loud, like a bunch of ceramic plates falling onto the ground, rings next to his ear.The prince pulls himself up from the ground with a glare at Suga, who’s laughing so hard he’s doubled over.
“Suga-chan is so mean to me.” Tooru sulks, crossing his arms over his sleeping robes.
“Oh, don’t start, you big baby.” Suga wipes away tears of mirth, placing a tiny gong onto the shelf before bringing Tooru’s wash basin over to him. The water is warm; just the way the Crown Prince likes it in the mornings - Suga has always known him well. It's been his duty to do so for most of their lives, after all.
Handing over a similarly heated wet towel, Suga aims a bright smile at his Prince. “Happy birthday, Tooru. May all your wishes come true.”
Tooru’s mouth falls open a little in surprise. He recovers a moment later and rushes over to Suga to engulf the smaller in a tight hug. “Suga-chan! You're too sweet.”
Suga squeaks in surprise at the sudden contact, but he somehow manages to keep the water in the small basin from splashing all over the marble floor. Tooru refuses to let go, however, until Suga relaxes into the embrace and rests a hand on Tooru’s messy brown hair. A small smile graces his soft features. “And you’re just impossible.”
As a member of the Sugawara House, a noble family that has served the Oikawa line for generations, Sugawara Koushi has been by Tooru’s side since they were children. The only one who Tooru has known longer is General Iwaizumi Hajime.
Speak of the devil, Tooru thinks as he watches Iwaizumi enter his chambers.
“Happy birthday, idiot prince.” Iwaizumi mutters grumpily. Already changed into his full armour, likely in preparation for the festivities that are scheduled to take place later in the day, the general's footsteps are heavier than usual and punctuated with the sound of his scabbard clanking against the metal of his suit.
Iwaizumi is one of the four legendary generals pledging allegiance to the crown. Having defeated an entire battalion of an opposing army with just a small squadron of men – and Oikawa’s strategy, of course – he’s widely considered the Pillar of the South and the Ace of the military.
“Iwa-chan!” Tooru greets happily, waving his arms in excitement. Iwaizumi might seem rather irritable, but his expression is set at a default even if he's in a good mood. Few people can discern his normal grouch from his truly bad moods. With a little bit of effort, Suga holds Tooru still so that he can properly tie the last knot in the sash holding Tooru’s robes together. “I can’t believe you remembered!”
“It’s not like it’s the biggest celebration of the year or anything.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, taking a seat at Tooru’s tea table. His sword – custom made, and so heavy Tooru can’t pick it up – bumps against the side of the stool with a dull thud. Suga snorts in amusement, sitting Tooru down on his bed.
“Iwa-chan you’re so mean to me too!” Tooru cries, lips curving in an angry pout.
“Keep still, your Highness,” Suga chuckles as he settles down behind the prince. He reaches for the jade comb sitting on Tooru’s vanity and starts combing through brown, layered hair. Separating the longer strands from the shorter ones, the grey-haired boy begins fashioning them into two separate braids.
With a little huff, Tooru ruffles the shorter strands to frame his face. If the Crown Prince were honest, Suga’s pampering soothes him like nothing else. “I don’t want you to leave, Suga-chan.”
The fingers in his hair falter for a second, and then Suga is smiling. “I won’t be that far from the Royal Castle, your highness.”
“It’s not the same and you know it!” Tooru whines, fisting the blanket pooled around his body. “You’re still young, why’d you have to go and get married?”
“If I were more proficient at the sword, or the spear, like my brothers – then, maybe, I wouldn’t need to,” Suga answers, a little bitterness lacing his otherwise matter-of-fact tone. “My parents arranged this marriage so that I can continue to live in the same luxury we’ve been brought up with, and I have to honour their decision, now that they’re gone. I don’t want to leave your side either, Tooru. You know that, right?”
Tooru just sighs. It seems his coming of age brings more misery than joy.
“You need to take care of yourself, Tooru, especially with that prophecy floating about.” Suga rests a warm hand on his Prince’s shoulder as he exchanges a sombre look with Iwaizumi.
The General nods, fingers tightening reflexively where they rest around the handle of his sword. “The whole palace has been ordered on high alert today. They’ve been told that it’s because of the party, of course, but we’ll still have to be careful.”
The Prophecy.
A handful of words that have haunted Tooru since they were uttered at the bedside of his birth; foretelling the tale of a Kingdom led to ruin, and the Four Horsemen who follow after.
It’s no wonder it’s kept in such secrecy – A Crown Prince who heralds great tragedy for his Kingdom is not one who’s welcome. He would have been drowned as an infant, or burned at the stake.
“Tooru.” Suga’s voice is warm and familiar. Tooru turns to look at him, and is greeted by one of the grey-haired boy’s large, toothy grins. “You bring joy to me and Iwaizumi-san. What some old lady has to say about you doesn’t matter.”
Suga sticks out his hand, pinky finger extended.
It’s a little tradition between them, something that’s survived their careless childhood. A promise, of sorts, or rather a reminder that they’ll always be together, even if it might not seem that way.
Tooru nods, wrapping his own little finger around Suga’s pinky, and allows himself to smile.
“We’ll be by your side.” Iwaizumi sounds uncharacteristically gentle, and Tooru sees that his almost permanent frown has smoothed out into an expression of sincerity. “So don’t worry, stupid Prince.”
That’s right.
With these two by his side, Tooru can do anything.