Izana ran a washcloth through his sword, wiping the last of the bloodstains on his blade. The first prince let out a soundless sigh as his hands worked around the blade routinely. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to close his eyes instantly but leaving a bloodied blade in the scabbard would damage the steel no matter how good the blade cuts. He put down the cloth and returned the blade into its sheath before running a hand through his hair. There was caked blood in his blonde hair and it would be harder to wash them out later. Time to trim them short. It was getting troublesome to clean them as it would always be caked with more blood in the future.
"Pardon the intrusion, Izana-sama." Mitsuhide's soft voice rang through the silent night, a contrast to the earlier screams of mercy under blades.
"Enter." He would need to clean his hair later. Those clothes would needed to be burned though, Izana did not fancy the idea of wearing stained attires; he could afford others.
"Zen-sama is finally asleep," Mitsuhide reported, eyes scanning the first prince. "The chief herbalist gave him a tincture that could help him rest after tending to his wounds."
"Is that so?" Izana let his hair flow behind him, deciding against tying it up with the blood still caked in it. He would do that after his well-deserved bath. "You may leave for the night, Mitsuhide. Good work today." The first prince finished the sentence with a flash of his infamous smile and Mitsuhide noticed how the smile somehow did not travel up the prince's eyes.
"Izana-sama, would…" the guard swallowed. "Do you think Zen-sama would be alright?" he braved his heart to ask.
The sight of the 13-year-old prince kneeling next to his dead friend, calling out to his name at night would never be forgotten by Mitsuhide. He could remember how those frail and small shoulders shook; an aguish cry resonated through the dark. He was too young, too young to bear the weight of a betrayal. He wanted to let his new master mourn the loss of his first friend as long as he wanted to but the first prince had other ideas. Izana walked passed Mitsuhide and simply plucked his younger brother from the ground by his arm. Useless legs folded under the younger prince and Mitsuhide immediately went to his master's side, supporting the weightless prince.
"Stand up, Zen." It was more of a command than a plead as Izana stared coldly at those unseeing eyes of his younger brother, their usual shine robbed. The first prince's strong grip on his younger brother was unyielding, dragging the latter onto his feet forcefully. Izana noted the limp doll in his hand and relinquished his hold.
"Report to me once you have him settled." He turned and walked back towards the castle.
Mitsuhide winced at the harshness of the first prince's tone as he pulled the younger prince upright; supporting most of the latter's weight in his own arms. "Zen-sama, let's get you inside and check out by the court herbalist," he looked at those big blue eyes for any recognition but he observed none.
Gone were the screams of name and the tears that streamed from the eyes when Mitsuhide had Zen cleaned up and tucked in the prince's bed, securing the blanket around the little frame. Big blue eyes stared into nothingness as the chief herbalist tended to the wound on the prince's face and the split lip. A small vial of potion was then pressed to the prince's lips. "It's a sedative that will help His Highness sleep better tonight. I'll come and check on him again in the afternoon," the chief herbalist explained once the content was emptied.
"He will need some time to recover from those wounds," Izana answered Mitsuhide as he walked pass the loyal guard. "It's a necessary pain for his growth," he finished before leaving the room, ending the conversation.
Izana noticed how Mitsuhide's eyes soften whenever the latter looked at his younger brother, remembering how the guard rushed head first into a crowd of people with only a single sword drawn to protect the newly appointed master. The first prince found his destination as he entered the younger's prince chamber silently, standing next to the sleeping figure. A bluish green bruise was starting to form on the face where he was struck harshly.
"You're lucky to escape this with only a slap and a split lip, little brother." Izana whispered as he traced the bruise lightly with his hand, feeling the redness and warmth radiated from the battered skin.
It was not a long time ago when the younger prince would still tail behind the blonde prince. Izana let his mask slipped just a little for a smile to surface as he reminisced about those big blue eyes which would stare at him with such curiosity and admiration.
Aniue.
He would look at him for approval, a slight nod of praise or a smile that Izana could spare.
"This would teach you not to trust others so easily, not to give yourself out wholeheartedly in the future, little brother." Izana noticed a speckled of dried blood caught in one of those silvery strands of Zen's; Mitsuhide must have overlooked while cleaning him up. The stillness of his younger brother's sleeping form was unnerving. He knew Zen was sedated for his own good, lest he thrashed in his inevitable nightmare and hurt himself in the process.
"A…Atri…" A soft mumble escaped split lips.
Izana ran his hand to smooth the furrowed brows, hoping to keep the nightmares at bay. "Shh… It's okay, you're okay," even the sedative could not give the younger prince solace.
"Shh… it's okay. I'm here,' Izana's hand continued stroking silvery hair after catching a stray tear which escaped.
Zen was an innocent child who Izana would sacrificed anything to protect. But those big blue eyes were innocent no more and it was a few years after that night before the first prince could see the gleam returning to those big blue eyes.
Those blue eyes shone its brightest alongside the prettiest shade of red.