Summer and Winter

By Adriel W. L'Alfayage

An adequate title.

"Jericho sat down next to the Russian tsarevich, worried. The sweat on his forehead was just as visibly as the water drop that was slowly sliding down the outside of the glass of water he was holding. Niko didn't react immediately, prompting the prince's worry one more time."

Haruhito stopped typing and glanced up to the two royals he was writing about. Technically, he had a deadline coming up and the publisher was pressing for the edited version of his next book, but he didn't know that he was dealing with a New Asian royal who was currently grilling in the sun of Los Angeles. He only needed to read through it one more time either way. Haruhito could take a break and write a smut oneshot about the two royals in the Selection that he had come to ship.

"Hey, Adern, what do you think?" he asked his cat, switching into Mandarin. Since most people spoke English here, he couldn't really talk to his cat in English, and since some seemed to know Japanese (Niko did, and considering him writing a smut oneshot about him and another royal, he shouldn't be talking about it loudly). "Who should make the first step? The Russian guy or the Oceanian?"

"What are you doing?" Yao Jinhai, clearly just from the pool considering the fact that he was wet all over his body, stood in front of him. If there wasn't the big parasol, he'd probably block the sun, Haruhito thought. Cliché. Jinhai spoke Mandarin.

Haruhito groaned, although a bit playfully. "Damn, someone speaks Mandarin," he remarked. Jinhai had been a nice person to talk to on the ball—Haruhito liked him, war or not. What was next? He had a terrible relationship with his brother, like Haruhito had, and his sister was the closest one to him, out of the family? That'd be a ridiculous coincidence and set up for a star-crossed romance, Haruhito thought. Cliché. Fate? More like lazy plot writing.

"I'm sorry," Jinhai apologised. Being bad with people as Haruhito was, he couldn't say whenever he was genuine or sarcastic. "But, what are you doing?" he asked, staying in Mandarin.

Was that good? In writing, he'd use that to show that they had an unspoken deal to remain in a private conversation and work together, but real life? He had way too little experience on that. "Writing a smut oneshot on Jericho and Niko, of course." Haruhito replied with a sarcastic undertone, trying to adopt his Mandarin knowledge to the situation.

Jinhai took a seat next to him, ignoring the confused glance of Tomlin and Kwasi on why exactly the two archenemies (they weren't really, but details) were talking again. At least there was no Ruby Wright stalking them. She was irritating. Cultural differences, Haruhito concluded.

"What's 'smut'?" Jinhai asked, either being not as secure in Mandarin, or just having no ideas.

Okay. Okay. Okay. Okayokayokayokaykayayay. He shouldn't have said that. Damn, what if Jinhai did understand and he was going to tell that Jericho or Niko? They were New Asian allies, but this could ruin their alliance. A shift in alliances could cause

"Are you alright?" Jinhai asked, switching into English. He probably was most confident in that.

"I'm fine," Haruhito said, with a trembling voice and sweat that didn't come from the heat on his forehead. "I'm fine, don't bother." He could have been hold at gun point and wouldn't feel less afraid and nervous. He was going to cause the outbreak of a world war. Absolutely. Why had he given in to his mother? Why not warn her that he couldn't do that? Even if—

"You don't seem fine at all," Jinhai responded. "You're probably way too hot. You got to take of the sweater—you'll overheat."

He had no idea, Haruhito's mind shouted. He can't know. He probably was here to have exactly that happen. Why did he speak to him in the first place? How stupid he was! Too naïve. Too hopeful that this all was just a game he wouldn't win or lose.

Jinhai reached out, genuinely wanting to help Haruhito, but he twitched uncontrolled, surprising the urge to shout. Not here. Not with royalty from all over the world. Damn. Why couldn't he just be at home, with Adern, editing his novel as he was meant to be?

He stuttered. "Ple… Please don't," he whispered, just loud enough for Jinhai to hear. His expression, filled with fear, probably was the reason why Tomlin and Kwasi were not moving towards them, with a serious expression on their faces.

"What's happening?" A confused but wary Tomlin asked. This was political, and Haruhito knew he was going to mess this up. Tomlin, New England, was on the edge with the war. He was going to push them into the wrong direction, fail and probably get his home destroyed in the process.

"Heat stroke, possibly," Jinhai explained having let go of Haruhito's wrist. "He's red all over his face, breathing too fast, and wearing a sweater in the mid of summer."

What? What in the world was he talking about? Why were Kwasi and Tomlin coming closer? Couldn't they go away? Tomlin was kneeing down next to him, saying something, but Haruhito didn't listen. There was just… he was already suffocating, and now they were taking even more space away? Couldn't they just go? Leave him alone?

They had woken up Adern who had jumped down from his shoulders, having noticed his worry. The ginger cat pushed his headphones against his neck, causing him to jump again. Go away. There was no air. Damn it, where was the air?! Adern meowed desperately, climbing on his lap.

"Can you get a glass of water?" Tomlin suggested, pushing Kwasi away. Good, but Kwasi wasn't the issue. Jinhai and Tomlin were the problems. They were the royals from countries where they needed to be careful. England could be a game changer. Their navy was strong—they could attack New Asia in places where Mongolia would never be able to aid.

He heard something that vaguely sounded like his title from Jinhai, before Tomlin cut him off, calling his name and telling him something. Haruhito gasped for air. Nonononono. Listen to them, avoid war and what else could happen. Work. Think. Logic. Whatever.

"Can you hear us?"

Just shut up. Leave me alone. Go away. Ignore me. Pretend I don't exist. Don't make me deal with this. Why in the world are you even sitting next to the prince of a country you are at war with? Especially when the war is just about to escalate into a world war!?

"Hey, let's go inside, okay? Or somewhere with less people," Jinhai suggested. "Uh, you," he turned to Tomlin. The rest of the conversation didn't reach Haruhito.

The next time, Jinhai tried to make him move, he didn't move either. He just jerked back from the Mongolian prince. In-between his circling thoughts, he realised that Tomlin was gone. Good, that was meant to be good, right? But why was he still not getting any air?

"Hey, Haruhito?" Jinhai repeated again. "Let's go inside." This time, he could understand the foreign prince. This had to be a plot. Just like him even coming to him, or talking to him during the ball. Yet, Haruhito found himself to be following him inside.

Jinhai dismissed the Illéan guards immediately. Despite initial responses, they did leave them alone, and Haruhito eventually came to realise that Jinhai had been so intelligent to take his laptop. Just in case the others decided to do more jumps into the water.

It took a while for Haruhito to calm down. Kwasi briefly came by, dropping the glass he had gotten from wherever, but eventually, Haruhito managed to calm down. Jinhai hadn't done anything except try to help him with the alleged heat stroke.

I might as well play the part. Haruhito thanked the Mongolian for the glass, took a sip and dropped his head. I hate life.

Now assured that Haruhito was better, Jinhai curiously looked at the opened file on his laptop. Good that he hadn't gotten to the juicy parts yet, huh?

"Just another day in the Illéan Selection of Princess Elisabeth, surrounded by potential enemies and potential allies, a crown princess who was in love with her bodyguard and wasn't really wanting this Selection or her job, a princess who secretly wanted to overthrow her sister and a queen mother that everyone had to somehow like." Jinhai looked up to Haruhito. "Princess Emilia plans to overthrow Elisabeth?"

Haruhito shook his head slowly. "… No. That's just me throwing some tropes for a more realistic background."

"Jericho had already enjoyed one swim, but now, the other suitors were joining them. After a few more laps, he stopped, pulling himself up the stairs. Everyone had arrived by now," Jinhai continued reading. "Are you writing about the Selection?"

"Uh…" Haruhito groaned. "Not exactly. I'm shipping JeriNiko."

"JeriNiko?"

"Innocent children," Haruhito muttered under his breath before, with a pained expression, explaining the term 'shipping' to Jinhai, although trying to be more general than just focused on JeriNiko.

"Oh, that's cute," Jinhai remarked. "I mean, that people put love there. That's better than war and hatred, I suppose."

That was a… quite cute answer, Haruhito thought. "Yeah, so… Don't mind me shipping and just forget it?"

"What is this thing you mention though?"

"Smut?"

"I don't know?" Jinhai repeated the word he had used earlier in Mandarin.

"Smut." Haruhito nodded, mentally bracing himself for the embarrassing moment. "Don't… forget it."

"Please, we all need English skills here."

Haruhito's mind laughed. If he needed the English to talk about that, he didn't need skills with English for the Selection anymore. But nonetheless, he began summarising what 'smut' meant—as proper and official as possible.

Once he was finished, Haruhito took a breath, dodging the other prince's eyes. "… and, yeah, that's smut."

Jinhai placed the laptop besides them. He had continued to read the oneshot. "The theme is Summer and Winter? Based on where they're from, I guess?"

Haruhito shook his head. "I got the ideal from their clothes. Nikolai looks like he's dressed for Russia and not Illéa." He evidently ignored the fact that that applied completely to them as well. Jinhai breathed in sharply, probably considering asking something. Haruhito didn't need to encourage him to ask why he had been about to write that. "Cultural differences."

"What? Between their clothes?"

"N-no," Haruhito bit on his lip. So he hadn't been about to ask that, huh? "Whatever, forget it." He rose, grabbed his laptop and dropped the now empty glass onto the table. "Thanks for your help," he quickly added.

"How come you're writing that?" Jinhai asked though.

"… Spoiler." He was bored, and hey, the two had chemistry.

"Huh?" Jinhai looked at him confused. He hadn't moved.

"… Spoiler. That's… like… how do you explain what a spoiler is…"

"I know what that means," Jinhai replied, "I'm more curious about how it comes that you're writing… if you don't mind telling me, it is."

Well, explaining that writing was—besides cats—his hobby, he didn't mind. He wouldn't mind telling Jinhai about Tales Untold either, but he wasn't sure whenever his books were translated into Mongolian. Going by his father, Mongolia was a developing country and all, so he wasn't sure whenever they even had books over there.

The real issue was that he had to swear to his parents that no one ever would learn about him writing the books. He couldn't tell Jinhai that. Apparently that was considered bad for royals or something. Probably mainly because Haruhito wrote in English and not Japanese, but whatever.

"… Maybe a different time."

A line he would use to imply that there was going to be another meeting. They would meet again, talk again and who knew? Maybe he would come to trust him. But no, right now, Haruhito was busy shipping other people with a winter-summer clothing theme. HaruHai shippers had to wait. BTorturing readers with wait was the best thing either way. Besides killing characters, of course.

Who doesn't ship them 3

Shout out to the Discord who was very helpful.