Work Text:
To the rest of the Imperial Palace, the upper east wing had become completely cursed.
"I am telling you, brother, it’s a poltergeist!" Kougyoku declared, slamming her hands onto the long wooden meeting table. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and her eyes burned with dramatic fury. "I was walking through the pavilion yesterday, minding my own business, when a steam bun flew straight out of the third-story window and hit me right in the back of the head!"
"At least it was soft," Kouha sighed, leaning back in his chair while picking at a tray of sweet plums. "I was trying to nap in the garden, and someone dumped a pitcher of cold melon juice over my face. When I looked up, there was nothing there but a floating braid and the sound of someone snickering."
"It's completely unacceptable," Koumei muttered, rubbing his exhausted eyes behind a towering stack of tax ledgers. "My reports were organized chronologically this morning. By noon, someone had rearranged them into the shape of a giant pig."
Hakuei sighed, looking over at her younger brother with deep worry. "Hakuryuu... you use the study in the east wing most often. Have you noticed anything strange?"
Sitting at the end of the table, surrounded by three separate stacks of grain requisitions, Prince Hakuryuu didn't even look up from his desk. His pen moved with steady, mechanical precision over the rice paper.
Ever since the news had arrived from the Sindria Kingdom—ever since the grand, joyful wedding announcement of his former love and his closest friend—Hakuryuu had simply... stopped looking up. He had buried his broken heart under a mountain of administrative duty, deciding that if love wasn't meant for him, he would simply become the most efficient prince the empire had ever seen.
"No," Hakuryuu said flatly, his tone completely devoid of emotion. "I haven't noticed a thing."
Smack.
Right on cue, a half-eaten peach flew straight through the open balcony window, bouncing off the wall and landing with a wet squelch right next to Hakuryuu’s inkstone.
Outside the window, floating upside down in mid-air on a cloud of dark magic, a small, pale boy with an impossibly long dark braid was doubled over, giggling hysterically. He wore tattered black silk, his dark eyes bright with chaotic, hyperactive delight as he waited for the prince to blow his top.
Kougyoku gasped, pointing a finger out the window. "There! Do you see?!"
Hakuryuu didn't flinch. He didn't shout. He didn't even drop his pen. With a calm, tired sigh, Hakuryuu took a clean silk handkerchief, wiped the peach juice off his desk, picked up the fruit, and set it neatly in the rubbish bin.
He didn't spare the floating spirit a single glance. He just went right back to writing.
Outside, Judar’s giggles instantly withered away. His smirk fell into a deep, irritated pout. ‘Nothing? Not even a glare?!’
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
Judar was not a spirit who tolerated being ignored. He was a Kobold—an ancient, mischievous magic entity bound to the stone foundations of the palace. For centuries, he had entertained himself by terrorizing arrogant lords and making pompous scholars cry.
This quiet, gloomy prince with the scar over his eye was supposed to be easy target practice.
So, the next morning, Judar went all out.
While Hakuryuu was away attending morning prayers, Judar slipped into the prince’s private study like a whirlwind of dark magic. He unspooled every single scroll, knocked over three inkpots, threw the cushions off the divan, and drew a massive, crude smiley face on the main wall using sticky plum jam.
Satisfied with his masterpiece, Judar hid in the rafters, eagerly waiting for Hakuryuu to return and lose his mind.
When the heavy wooden doors pushed open, Hakuryuu stepped inside. He froze in the doorway, staring at the absolute disaster area his office had become.
For a second, Judar held his breath, leaning over the wooden beam, waiting for the screaming.
Instead, Hakuryuu just stood there. His shoulders slumped, a heavy, bone-deep exhaustion washing over his pale face. He closed his eyes, let out a slow, shaky breath, and began to quietly pick up the fallen scrolls one by one.
Before he could finish, Koumei walked past the open door, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw the ruin.
"Hakuryuu!" he gasped, looking at the jam on the walls and the spilled ink. "What is the meaning of this?! The Emperor’s envoys are arriving in an hour! How could you let your workspace devolve into such chaos?"
Hakuryuu knelt on the floor, rolling up a ruined map. He didn't point to the ceiling. He didn't mention the floating braid, the snickering, or the flying food.
"I apologize, Brother," Hakuryuu murmured softly, keeping his head bowed. "I was careless. It was my fault. I will clean it myself and accept whatever punishment the council deems fit."
Koumei sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Four hours of extra record-keeping tonight, then. See that it is restored immediately."
From high up in the rafters, Judar stared down at the prince. His dark eyes were wide, a strange, uncomfortable knot tightening in his chest.
‘Why didn't he blame me?’ Judar thought, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion. ‘He could have gotten rid of the extra work! Why is he taking the fall for something I did?!’
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
Judar couldn't stand it. The fact that Hakuryuu refused to give him the satisfying, angry attention he wanted was driving his hyperactive brain completely wild.
He needed to figure out what was wrong with this guy.
Using a flicker of his ancient magic, Judar shrank himself down until he was no larger than a teacup. He zipped silently down from the rafters, landing soundlessly on the corner of Hakuryuu's heavy oak desk, hiding himself behind a stack of thick ledgers.
From his miniature vantage point, Judar watched as Hakuryuu worked late into the night.
The prince’s hands were stained with black ink. His eyes were red-rimmed with fatigue, and every few minutes, his gaze would drift toward the corner of his desk, where a small, carved wooden box sat untouched. Inside the box was a faded wedding invitation from Sindria—a reminder of a heart he had tried so hard to give away, only to have it returned unwanted.
Judar tilted his tiny head, watching the quiet, heavy sorrow radiating off the prince. For the first time, Judar realized the boy wasn't ignoring him out of arrogance. He was just... hollowed out.
Suddenly, Hakuryuu reached into a small cloth sack beside his desk and pulled out a small, warm plate. On it rested three beautifully braided, freshly steamed lotus-paste buns, alongside a pair of sweet sesame cookies.
Hakuryuu set the plate right near the edge of the desk—directly in front of the stack of ledgers where tiny Judar was hiding.
Then, without saying a word, Hakuryuu stood up, turned his back, and walked over to the bookshelf across the room, pretending to search for a reference text.
Tiny Judar blinked, his nose twitching at the heavenly, warm scent of sugar and lotus paste. He peeked around the edge of the books.
‘Is he leaving food out?’ Judar wondered, his mouth watering. ‘Did he forget it there?’
Unable to resist, the tiny Kobold darted out from behind the ledgers. Working fast, Judar grabbed one of the sesame cookies—which was nearly as big as his entire torso—and dragged it back into his hiding spot, munching on it ravenously. It was delicious. Warm, buttery, and perfectly sweet.
Across the room, standing by the bookshelves, Hakuryuu quietly looked back over his shoulder.
He saw the tiny black braid disappear behind his ledgers, and watched the cookie magically vanish into the shadows. A tiny, almost invisible trace of a smile touched the corner of Hakuryuu's lips—the first genuine warmth to touch his face in months.
Hakuryuu turned back to the books, taking his sweet time, leaving the rest of the plate sitting right where it was.
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
Over the next week, a subtle, unspoken treaty formed in the prince’s study.
Judar was convinced he was being incredibly sneaky. Every night, while Hakuryuu was away in the imperial kitchens, he would zip around the desk, using his magic to tidy up the messy stacks of paper, organize the inkbrushes by size, and even polish the wooden grain of the desk.
He also decided to leave "helpful" notes for Hakuryuu regarding palace matters, scribbling in tiny, frantic handwriting on spare scraps of parchment:
‘That fat minister with the weird mustache is stealing money from the grain tax. You should throw a turnip at his head.’
When Judar returned the next night to check on his work, he found his note sitting in the center of the desk. Hakuryuu had read it, but right next to Judar’s messy scribbles, the prince had taken a brush dipped in red ink and gently circled three different words.
'Minister' has one 's', not two, Hakuryuu had written in neat, elegant calligraphy right beneath it. And 'turnip' does not have an 'e' at the end. But thank you for the warning regarding the grain tax. I will look into it.
Tiny Judar gasped, his cheeks flushing red with sheer outrage. "He corrected my spelling?!" he squeaked angrily, stomping his tiny foot on the desk. "I am an ancient, terrifying spirit of the earth, not a schoolboy!"
Furious, Judar retreated high into the shadow of the ceiling beams, brooding.
Below him, the door opened, and Hakuryuu stepped inside carrying a small, steaming tray. The aroma hit Judar’s nose instantly—crispy, golden pork belly glazed with honey, accompanied by warm, hand-rolled scallion pancakes.
Hakuryuu set the tray on the desk alongside a tiny, doll-sized tea cup filled with sweet jasmine tea. Then, the prince picked up a fresh sheet of paper and began to write:
To the spirit of my study,
Thank you for keeping my papers so neat, and for watching over my work. I would love to make foods that you enjoy, but I do not know your name or what you like to eat. If you are willing, please tell me.
Hiding in the shadows, Judar held his breath. His heart gave a strange, unexpected thump. A thank you letter? Just for me?
When Hakuryuu left the room to grab more firewood, Judar zipped down to the desk. He glared at the letter, his chest tight with a mix of defiance and embarrassment. He picked up an inkbrush—which was practically as tall as his miniature body—and dragged it across a blank piece of paper.
Since he was too proud to write out his name (and risk another red-ink spelling correction), he decided to draw a full-body portrait of himself in his full, dark, terrifying glory.
Except... drawing with an oversized brush while being the size of a teacup proved difficult. The ink splattered. The proportions were hilariously off. Head way too big, limbs tiny and stick-like, and a long zig-zag braid that looked more like a squiggly worm.
When Hakuryuu returned, he walked over to the desk and picked up the paper.
He stared at the childish stick-figure drawing for three silent seconds. Then, a soft, helpless sound escaped his throat.
Hakuryuu laughed.
It wasn't a bitter or tired sound. It was a genuine, melodic, quiet laugh—the first real laughter to leave Hakuryuu's lips since his heart had been broken months ago.
"Is this you?" Hakuryuu murmured, a warm, affectionate smile spreading across his face as he carefully set the drawing down. "You know, if you show yourself to me in person, I won't have to guess what you look like. I promise I won't be frightened."
Up in the rafters, tiny Judar squeezed his eyes shut, his entire face burning red. He pulled his knees to his chest and shrank deeper into the shadows. He wasn't afraid of the prince... but suddenly, he felt impossibly, overwhelmingly shy.
Hakuryuu waited quietly for a few minutes. When no floating spirit appeared, the prince let out a soft, understanding sigh. "That's alright," Hakuryuu whispered softly toward the ceiling. "Whenever you're ready."
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
The peace was shattered six days later during a visit from Princess Kougyoku.
She marched into Hakuryuu’s study, holding a heavy, dusty ancient tome under her arm. "Hakuryuu! I found it!" she announced triumphantly. "I spoke with the grand archivists. They confirmed that the strange occurrences in this wing are caused by an unhousebroken Kobold!"
From his hiding spot behind a curtain, tiny Judar stiffened, his dark eyes widening.
"A Kobold?" Hakuryuu asked, pausing his writing.
"Yes! A mischievous house-spirit," Kougyoku explained, flipping open the heavy book to a page with ancient diagrams. "They attach themselves to old buildings and cause endless chaos. But there is an easy way to get rid of them! The lore says that if you present a Kobold with a set of new, tailored clothes, the spirit is forced to accept them, breaking their bond to the building. They will be banished forever and can never return!"
Kougyoku smiled brightly, slamming the book shut. "I've already ordered the royal tailors to stitch a small suit of robes! By tomorrow night, we can banish the pest for good and you can work in peace!"
Hiding behind the curtain, Judar’s heart sank into his stomach. A cold, heavy weight settled in his chest. Of course, he thought bitterly, his tiny hands clenching into fists. He’s a prince. Why would he want a chaotic, annoying spirit ruining his office forever?
Hakuryuu was quiet for a long moment. He looked down at his desk—at the childish stick-figure drawing resting safely beneath his inkstone, and the tiny, empty teacup sitting beside it.
Slowly, Hakuryuu closed his ledger and looked up at his cousin.
"No," Hakuryuu said firmly.
Kougyoku blinked, taken aback. "What? 'No'?"
"Do not order any clothes," Hakuryuu said, his voice quiet, unyielding, and fierce. "I will not banish him. He is... not a pest. He is welcome here for as long as he wishes to stay."
Kougyoku gaped at him in utter disbelief. "Hakuryuu, he threw a turnip at a minister!"
"The minister was embezzling," Hakuryuu replied calmly, going right back to his work. "Please leave the spirit to me, sister."
Behind the curtain, tiny Judar pressed his hand over his mouth, his breath catching in his throat. His chest felt bursting with warmth, a strange, dizzying feeling sweeping over him. He refused to banish me? He... wants me to stay?
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
That very night, a massive summer tempest slammed into the capital. Heavy rain lashed against the wooden shutters, and thunder rattled the roof tiles of the high tower.
Hakuryuu sat alone at his desk, working by the flickering light of a single candle.
Suddenly, a violent gust of wind blew open the heavy balcony doors. Rain poured into the room, threatening to ruin months of tax records. Hakuryuu rushed to his feet, hurrying toward the balcony to pull the heavy wooden doors shut.
As he reached out into the storm, a jagged bolt of lightning struck the wooden support beam of the upper balcony roof directly above him.
CRACK!
With a deafening groan, the heavy timber snapped. The massive, iron-bound oak beam tumbled downward, falling straight toward Hakuryuu’s head. Trapped against the railing, Hakuryuu had no time to move—he instinctively raised his arm, bracing for the crushing blow.
An explosion of dark, shimmering red magic burst through the storm.
In a fraction of a second, a blur of dark silk dropped from the sky. A pair of strong, pale arms grabbed Hakuryuu around the waist, hauling him violently backward into the safety of the room just as the heavy oak beam crashed onto the floorboards with a thunderous BOOM!
Hakuryuu hit the carpeted floor hard, breathing heavily.
Shaking off the shock, he looked up.
Standing between him and the raging storm was no longer a tiny, teacup-sized spirit.
It was a young man—tall, lean, with pale skin, striking red eyes, and absurdly long, braided black hair that whipped around him in the wind. He wore shadowy, flowing robes, his chest rising and falling as he lowered his magic wand.
The ancient Kobold—the terrifying spirit of the palace—stood before him in full human form.
Judar turned slowly to face the prince. For a second, he looked fierce and dangerous... but then, as his red eyes met Hakuryuu's, a deep, flustered blush spread across Judar's pale cheeks. He nervously pulled at the collar of his tattered black silk top.
Slowly Judar dropped to one knee on the floor before Hakuryuu, bowing his head in the traditional manner of an imperial courtier.
"I... I am Judar," the spirit muttered, his voice surprisingly rich and deep, though he refused to look Hakuryuu directly in the eye. "The spirit of this tower."
Hakuryuu sat on the floor, staring at him in stunned silence. Then, a slow, breathtakingly gentle smile spread across the prince’s face.
"It's very nice to finally meet you," Hakuryuu whispered softly, reaching out to gently touch the spirit's rain-soaked sleeve. "And thank you for saving my life."
Judar looked up, his red eyes wide as he met Hakuryuu's warm gaze. He swallowed hard, his cheeks burning hotter than ever, knowing right then and there that no bribe of food or threat of clothes could ever make him leave this prince's side again.
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
The rain outside had finally eased into a soft, steady patter against the windowpanes, leaving the study wrapped in a cozy, quiet warmth.
Judar was sitting directly on top of Hakuryuu’s desk, casually swinging his legs back and forth like a bored child. His bare feet dangled over the carved edge, occasionally kicking the wooden paneling. In his hands, he held the paper Hakuryuu was currently sketching on, cackling openly at the prince's work.
"Look at his head!" Judar laughed, pointing a pale finger at the ink drawing. "Why did you draw Koumei’s chin so long? He looks like an angry eggplant!"
Hakuryuu didn't pull the paper away. He just dipped his brush into fresh black ink, a tiny, fond smile tugging at his lips. "It's an accurate likeness."
"Whatever," Judar huffed, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the high, vaulted ceiling. "Everyone in this palace is so unbelievably annoying. A total bunch of pests! They just scream and run around like headless chickens whenever I throw a pastry or float a cushion. It's getting boring playing pranks on them. They don't even have good reactions anymore."
Hakuryuu paused his brush, looking up at the dark spirit sitting amidst his neatly stacked ledgers. "If everyone here is such a pest... why did you choose this palace to stay in, Judar? You could have gone anywhere."
Judar shrugged, kicking his heels against the desk again. "I was bored. Out in the wild, nobody sees you unless they're dying in a blizzard or lost in a cave. In a huge palace full of noisy people? Playing pranks and getting attention was a fun way to make myself known. If I'm gonna be stuck around mortals, I might as well make them look at me." He crossed his arms, smirking down at Hakuryuu. "Plus, the food here is way better than moss and rainwater."
Hakuryuu stared at him for a quiet moment. The candlelight flickered, casting soft shadows across the prince's scarred face. He looked down at his own hands—scarred, tired, and carrying the quiet weight of a love he had been forced to let go.
Outside the study, two figures crept along the dimly lit corridor.
"Shh! Hakuei, be quiet!" Kougyoku giggled under her breath, tugging her cousin’s sleeve as they ducked behind a heavy velvet curtain near the cracked study door.
Hakuei sighed softly, trying to adjust her robes without making a sound. "Kougyoku, this is in vain. Kobolds are notoriously mischievous and elusive creatures. They never allow humans to see them. Whatever is in Hakuryuu's study will simply hide until we leave."
"Just trust me!" Kougyoku whispered excitedly, peering through the gap in the door. "I've tried luring him out with honey and tricks a dozen times, but Hakuryuu has been acting so suspicious lately! Look!"
Inside the quiet room, Judar tried to reach for a fresh peach on the desk, but his face suddenly went dangerously pale. A wave of dizziness hit him, his dark magic flickering like a dying flame. With a soft groan, he tumbled right off the desk!
"Judar!" Hakuryuu reacted instantly. He caught the spirit mid-fall, gently gathering Judar into his arms and pulling him onto the soft cushions of the divan. Without a moment's hesitation, Hakuryuu draped his own warm velvet cloak over Judar's shoulders, kneeling beside him and carefully rubbing Judar’s ice-cold hands to bring back his warmth.
From the hallway, Hakuei stared through the crack in the door in utter shock at how relaxed, gentle, and utterly natural her usually stoic brother was being. Kougyoku, meanwhile, clasped her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement.
On the divan, Judar shivered, his red eyes glaring weakly up at the prince. He felt a strange, sickening weakness leaching his power away.
"Hey... Ryuu," Judar rasped, his voice tight. "Something is... weakening my core. Is this your doing? Are you secretly using some spell to drain me?"
Hakuryuu frowned, his scarred face darkening with genuine hurt. "Of course not. Why would I do that? I don't want you gone, Judar. I... I want you here."
Judar’s heart gave a violent, terrifying thud against his ribs. He looked at Hakuryuu's warm, worried eyes, and a wave of pure irritation washed over him—irritation at his own chaotic, overwhelming feelings that he couldn't control or understand.
"Ugh! Stop looking at me like that!" Judar huffed, sitting up abruptly and wrapping the cloak tighter around himself, his cheeks burning red. He stared at the floor, picking aggressively at a loose thread on the blanket. "What even is this stupid mortal garbage? What is love anyway? Everyone in this palace whines about it."
Hakuryuu blinked, surprised by the question. He softened, looking down at his hands with a quiet, reflective smile.
"Love?" Hakuryuu murmured softly. "I suppose... it’s when someone else’s wishes become your own. When you care about their happiness so much that you want to make their desires real for them."
Judar let out a loud, mocking laugh, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Ha! What a joke! I’d never waste my magic like that! What do I look like to you, a Djinn? I don't grant wishes!"
"It's nothing literal, Judar," Hakuryuu chuckled gently, amused by his outbursts. "It just means you want someone else to be happy."
"Yeah, right," Judar smirked, leaning in closer with a wicked, teasing grin, though his face was still bright red. "Humans are just sexual creatures who want... that. I don't believe in your mushy fairy tales."
Hakuryuu looked at Judar’s smirk, his dark eyes trailing down to the spirit's lips.
"Judar..." Hakuryuu asked quietly, his voice dropping an octave. "Have you ever kissed someone?"
Judar’s smug smile instantly froze. He blinked, staring at Hakuryuu in stunned silence before puffing out his chest, trying to play it cool. "Why? Is that an invitation, Ryuu?"
Behind the curtain, Hakuei gasped loudly in shock! Before she could ruin the moment, Kougyoku violently threw her hand over Hakuei's mouth, holding her shut, her eyes wide with pure, unadulterated joy.
Inside the room, Hakuryuu didn't flinch. Instead, he slowly leaned forward, closing the distance between their faces, his intention entirely clear. "Maybe it is."
Judar’s brain completely short-circuited. His eyes went wide as saucers, his face turning as red as a ripe cherry.
"W-Wait—NO!" Judar squeaked in absolute panic.
POOF!
In a cloud of chaotic black smoke, Judar instantly shrank down to the size of a tiny teacup!
"YOU'RE CRAZY!" the miniature spirit shrieked in a high-pitched voice, scrambling across the divan, his tiny braid flying behind him. He dove straight out the open balcony window, fleeing into the night sky as fast as his tiny, panicked wings could carry him.
Hakuryuu sat on the floor, blinking at the empty window, before letting out a soft, helpless laugh.
Out in the hallway, Kougyoku finally let go of Hakuei's mouth, bouncing on her heels. "I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU JUST SAW THAT!" she squealed in a whisper.
Hakuei just leaned against the wall, utterly bewildered, wondering how her serious, quiet brother had managed to court a chaotic palace spirit!
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
Three days passed, and the high tower study fell into an agonizing, suffocating silence.
Every single night, Hakuryuu cooked. He made fried lotus root, sweet scallion pancakes, and fresh sesame cookies, placing the steaming plates right on the edge of his desk alongside a tiny, doll-sized tea cup.
And every morning, the food sat there—cold, untouched, and growing stale.
Hakuryuu sat in his chair, his hands resting motionless on his lap. He didn't pick up his pen. He didn't review his tax ledgers. He just stared blankly at the tray of cold food, the silence in the room weighing heavier on his chest than any physical injury ever could.
The heavy wooden doors clicked open, and Hakuei stepped inside. She carried no work, only a warm blanket and a heart aching for her brother. She had watched him search every corner of the east wing for days—checking high rafters, looking under divans, and standing on the balcony late into the night calling out into the empty wind.
"Hakuryuu..." she murmured gently, walking over and placing a soft hand on his shoulder.
Hakuryuu didn't look up from the cold plate. His voice, when he finally spoke, was hollow and small, sounding like the young boy who had lost everything years ago.
"What did I do wrong, Hakuei?" he asked softly, his fingers tightening in his lap. "Did I push him too far? Did I... make him uncomfortable?" He swallowed hard, his throat tight. "Has he left me?"
Hakuei’s heart melted. She pulled a chair close, sitting beside him and taking his cold hand into hers.
"Oh, Hakuryuu, I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding," Hakuei tried to reassure him gently, rubbing his knuckles. "You must remember... Judar is an ancient spirit of the earth. Spirits are like the wind. They don't belong to one room or one prince. When they grow restless, they move on to a different place whenever it pleases them. Maybe... maybe it was simply time for him to wander again."
Hakuryuu let out a slow, trembling breath. A single, bitter tear traced its way down his scarred cheek.
"I know," Hakuryuu whispered, his voice cracking. "I knew from the start he was just bored. I knew he was a chaotic creature who would leave the moment I stopped being entertaining. I knew... but I couldn't help it, Hakuei. Despite all of that... I love him."
Hakuei pulled him into a tight, protective embrace, letting her brother rest his forehead against her shoulder in quiet grief.
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
Hakuryuu couldn't accept it. Even if Judar had fled out of panic, he wouldn't have left his favorite inkbrush behind, nor would he have left the drawing of himself sitting on the desk.
Late that night, driven by a dark, gnawing suspicion, Hakuryuu snuck into the palace’s forbidden lower archives—the ancient, stone-lined vaults beneath Empress Gyokuen's private quarters.
He searched through the dark magical artifacts until his eyes fell upon a heavy silver basin resting on an altar. The water inside was pitch-black. Surrounding the basin were four shattered binding stones, glowing with the faint, fading aura of Judar's dark magic.
On the floor beside the altar lay a torn piece of black silk—a scrap from Judar's top.
Hakuryuu knelt, picking up the silk. His hands began to shake violently. This hadn't been a voluntary departure. Judar hadn't abandoned him.
He had been torn away.
The temperature in the vault plummeted. A low, mocking laugh echoed from the dark archway as Empress Gyokuen stepped out of the shadows, her long sleeves trailing behind her like black wings.
"Look at you," Gyokuen sneered, her eyes gleaming with cold disdain. "Crawling around in the dark over a handful of spirit-dust."
Hakuryuu stood up slowly. His face was pale, his dark eyes burning with a terrifying, deadly fury as he clutched the scrap of black silk in his fist.
"Mother," Hakuryuu said, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "What is this?"
"A cleansing," Gyokuen replied smoothly, examining her golden fingernails with absolute indifference. "That entity was a nuisance and a liability. You were failing your duties, ignoring your council, and spending your days entertaining a parasitic ghost. I banished him. The binding spell ensures he can never step foot inside this imperial palace again."
"He was not a nuisance!" Hakuryuu bellowed, stepping forward, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. "He belonged here!"
"He was a pest," Gyokuen hissed, her eyes narrowing. "A wild, dangerous distraction. Nobody wants to live in a haunted place, Hakuryuu. Least of all a future ruler. You should be thanking me for ridding your tower of such trash."
Hakuryuu’s breath came in ragged, furious gasps. The room seemed to tremble with his rage. He took a step toward the Empress, his voice dropping into a desperate, terrifying whisper.
"What did you do to him?" Hakuryuu demanded, staring straight into his mother's cold eyes. "Is Judar alive?!"
Gyokuen let out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed off the cold stone walls of the vault.
"Alive?" she sneered, her eyes gleaming with disdain. "He is an ancient, parasitic spirit, Hakuryuu. I did not kill him—I banished him. I severed his tether to this palace and set a barrier so absolute that no creature of pure magic could ever cross it again. If he ever attempted to force his way through my barrier, the clash of power would burn his magical core to ash. Now stop this foolishness and return to your duties."
Hakuryuu didn't hear another word she said. He turned on his heel and sprinted out of the vault, his heart hammering violently against his ribs.
If he can't cross the barrier as a spirit...
Hakuryuu burst through the palace gates, plunging out into the cold, pouring rain. He ran blindly toward the boundary lines of the imperial territory—toward the old stone markers at the edge of the palace woods where Gyokuen’s dark barrier shimmered faintly in the night.
He searched frantically through the soaked underbrush, calling out into the storm. "Judar! Judar, where are you?!"
Beside an ancient willow tree, just inside the boundary line, Hakuryuu froze.
Kneeling in the mud was a figure.
Judar was curled on the damp earth, shivering violently. He was entirely naked, completely stripped of his shadowy silks and ethereal glow. His eyes were wide, vacant, and terrified, staring in absolute horror at his own pale, trembling hands. Rain washed over his bare shoulders, plastering his long black hair to his back.
"Judar!" Hakuryuu gasped, rushing forward and dropping to his knees beside him.
"NO! Stay back!" Judar suddenly screamed, flinching away violently. Tears streamed wildly down his wet cheeks, mixing with the rain. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shove Hakuryuu away with trembling arms. "Don't look at me! Get away from me, Ryuu! Go away!"
Hakuryuu caught Judar’s hands, and the moment their skin met, Hakuryuu’s blood ran cold.
There was no magical hum. No pulse of dark energy. No ethereal chill.
Judar was soft. Warm. Vulnerable.
He was entirely, completely human.
"Judar..." Hakuryuu’s voice broke as realization washed over him. "Your magic... your core..."
"It's gone!" Judar sobbed, his voice raw and cracking as he buried his wet face in his hands. "It's all gone! I can't feel the earth, I can't fly, I can't even spark a tiny light! I'm useless! I'm just a stupid, weak mortal!"
"Listen to me," Hakuryuu said frantically, unwrapping his heavy, dry cloak and wrapping it tightly around Judar’s shivering, bare body. "We'll fix this. I'll help you regain your magic and your powers. I'll search every library in the continent, I swear it. You can turn back!"
Judar shook his head wildly, his dark braid whipping around his neck as tears poured down his face. "You don't get it, you idiot!" Judar yelled, grabbing the lapels of Hakuryuu's wet robes. "Gyokuen didn't take my magic! All she did was banish me! She put up a barrier that no spirit could cross!"
Hakuryuu blinked, stunned. "Then... how are you here?"
"The only way through the barrier was to cease being a spirit!" Judar cried out, his chest heaving as he gripped Hakuryuu tighter. "The ancient magic rules... to break a spirit's tether and cross a banned boundary, you have to trade your immortality! The only way I could step foot back into this place... was to sacrifice my magic forever!"
Hakuryuu froze. The breath was completely knocked from his lungs.
Without another word, Hakuryuu pulled Judar fiercely into his arms, crushing the newly-mortal boy against his chest. He buried his face into Judar’s rain-soaked hair, holding him so tightly as if Judar might vanish into the rain if he let go.
"Why did you do something so stupid?!" Hakuryuu choked out, tears finally spilling from his own eyes, hot against Judar’s wet skin. "You were an immortal spirit! You could have gone anywhere in the world! You could have found a new palace, a new forest, a new tower! Why didn't you just move on to a new place?!"
Judar clung to Hakuryuu’s back, his small, newly-human fingers digging helplessly into the prince's wet robes. He let out a shaky, sobbing breath, pressing his face into the crook of Hakuryuu's neck.
"Because..." Judar whispered softly, his voice trembling with a raw, terrifying honesty he had never felt before. "Because those other places... don't have you."
Hakuryuu’s heart shattered and rebuilt itself in a single, breathless second.
Judar sniffled, clutching Hakuryuu tighter, his cheeks flushing warm beneath the rain. "You said... love is when someone else's wishes become your own. You said you wanted me to stay... and I wanted to be with you. It was my own wish to change, Ryuu."
Hakuryuu closed his eyes, a soft, tearful laugh escaping his throat as he cupped the back of Judar's neck, pressing his forehead against Judar’s.
"You absolute fool," Hakuryuu whispered, his voice overflowing with gentle, unconditional warmth. "You beautiful, foolish spirit."
"I'm not a spirit anymore," Judar pouted weakly, though a tiny, watery smile touched his lips. "I'm just a needy mortal now. You're stuck feeding me real food forever."
"Good," Hakuryuu smiled, kissing Judar’s rain-slicked cheek, then his forehead, and finally resting his lips softly against Judar's. "I'm never letting you go again."
⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚
To the rest of the Imperial Palace, it almost seemed as if nothing had changed at all.
Judar was still there, floating down corridors (though now, it was usually because Hakuryuu was carrying him on his back or because he was riding on the shoulders of an amused guard), playing loud, chaotic pranks and cackling at his own ridiculous ideas for killing boredom.
Except he had changed. He was... tame.
The terrifying, unpredictable entity of the tower had transformed into something remarkably like a spoiled house cat. Judar now had a soft, lavishly cushioned bed inside Hakuryuu’s tower—though he spent half his time sprawled across Hakuryuu’s desk, draped over the prince’s lap, or batting at Hakuryuu's calligraphy brushes whenever he felt he wasn't getting enough attention.
He demanded fresh fruit, threw dramatic tantrums if his tea was too cold, and would aggressively shove his head under Hakuryuu’s hand until the prince gave in and petted his hair.
And to absolute no one's surprise, Princess Kougyoku instantly fell in love with him.
"I knew it!" she squealed one afternoon, bursting into the study and dropping a massive box of sweet pastries onto the desk right in front of Judar. "I knew you were just a lonely little spirit looking for a home! Look at you, you're practically a prince's favorite pet now!"
Judar stuffed a strawberry pastry into his mouth, glaring at her with a flushed, pouting face. "I'm not a pet, shorty! I'm an ancient threat!"
"Sure you are," Kougyoku giggled, casually patting Judar on the head—and to her absolute delight, Judar didn't even try to zap her.
Prince Kouha was quick to follow. Fascinated by Judar’s wild, unapologetic attitude, Kouha began spending all his free time trailing behind the former Kobold like a loyal disciple. Within weeks, Kouha had adopted Judar's exact habit of resting his chin on his hands, smirking arrogantly at boring court ministers, and threatening to throw vegetables at anyone who talked for too long.
"You're teaching my brother terrible habits," Hakuryuu noted softly one evening, sitting beside Judar on the divan as the sun set over the palace.
"Hey, I'm giving the kid personality," Judar grinned, leaning his back against Hakuryuu’s chest. He closed his eyes, letting out a long, content sigh as Hakuryuu’s arms wrapped naturally around his waist, resting his chin on Judar’s shoulder.
"Are you happy here, Judar?" Hakuryuu whispered, his hand gently resting over Judar’s heart—beating steady, warm, and human.
Judar reached up, lacing his pale fingers through Hakuryuu’s. He smirked, turning his head slightly to press a quick, sweet kiss against Hakuryuu’s jaw.
"The food is great, your family is ridiculous, and my prince is a total pushover," Judar murmured softly, his smile warm and genuinely happy. "I'm not going anywhere."