Author's Notes:
Not dead. Just drowning. I need swimming homos to help me back to the surface. Cross-posting on AO3.
This is inspired by a prompt on the Hetalia Kink Meme that I saw a long time ago, but never got around to writing. Basically, this story is a whipping boy AU. This in itself says a lot, but more historical info on whipping boys on the notes at the end.
Starts off as friendly RinHaru, but they will definitely get romantically involved later on. Please be aware of the warnings before you read! Enjoy!
Warnings: Child abuse, physical abuse.
At age eight, Prince Haruka got a new ceremonial crown.
At age ten, Prince Haruka got his very own horse.
At age twelve, Prince Haruka got a lesson.
…OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…
Haruka knew that he wasn't the ideal heir to the throne, and he didn't think he ever would be. Did he even want to be a King? On many days, he didn't even know. After all, how could he rule a kingdom later on if he spent his days skipping out on his lessons to go soak in the fountain in the courtyard? Or go hide in the tall bushes of the garden and draw to his heart's content? Or be extremely picky about the meals he was served?
He studied. He learned his history and politics and mathematics and calligraphy, but the fact remained that although he was an average student, he did not have the manners befitting a young prince, and he did not have the interest that a young prince should have in regards to his future kingdom. He was still young, barely twelve, and though pressure was put on him to age quicker than he should in preparation to take the throne, he refused to let his days as a boy go by. He had plenty of time for studying and politics and business when he became a man.
Which was why he was confused when, on a bright summer day, he was called to his father's office. He was never summoned without reason, and a spark of apprehension hit him as the maids dressed him up for his audience with the King. Had his father finally gotten fed up with his attitude? Would he reprimand him again, as he always did?
"Your Grace," a familiar voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to the doorway of his dressing room. His calm blue eyes fell on the comforting figure of Makoto, his (unofficial) personal attendant, who bowed to him in respect and smiled.
"Makoto," he nodded, not reacting to the other's sudden appearance. He was used to having him pop up at a moment's notice. Makoto, though only a year older than him, was a lot taller and built like a servant, whereas he was built like the prince he was, more dainty and well-groomed.
"His Highness awaits," Makoto reminded him good-naturedly, shifting his weight from one leg to another.
"I'm coming," Haruka sighed, moving a bit to let the maids know that he wanted to go. The women respectfully finished up with his makeup and flattened his clothes and then stepped back to let him go to the olive-haired boy.
Makoto did not say a word, and let Haruka take the lead as manners dictated. They'd had the whole "drop the formalities" discussion too many times to count, and so for now, they saved themselves the headache and in front of prying eyes, Makoto and Haruka acted like servant and prince.
They walked in silence as Haruka did not feel particularly talkative, and Makoto hummed lightly as he followed him. He could tell that the Prince was concerned, and if he was honest with himself, he was, too. Haruka had not been summoned to his father's office in a long time, and last time he had, his curfew privileges had been revoked. He knew that the Prince was not very inclined to live up to his position for the moment, but he still tried to beg him to make some effort. Makoto was not just a servant; he was a friend. And as a friend, he would not be able to bear it if something happened to Haruka, especially if it was something he could have prevented.
They reached the King's quarters quickly enough, and that's where Makoto bid Haruka goodbye (and silently, good luck), promising to wait on him for lunch later. Haruka nodded and entered the quarters with a nod to the guards outside. Although it was his own father's quarters, he was so rarely in contact with the man that he barely even knew how to navigate the series of connected rooms. However, muscle memory helped lead his legs in the right direction, and soon, he was standing in front of the door to his father's office. Knocking softly, he waited for confirmation before entering.
The richly-decorated room unfolded in front of his eyes as he stepped in. Many awards and treaties were framed up on the wall in a mosaic that said a lot about his father's pride and his achievements. The place was a mess, full of papers and documents and folders everywhere, and yet everybody knew that the King did not want anybody cleaning up. The man took his job extremely seriously, and perhaps that was why the kingdom was in such good shape.
A strange nausea rolled in Haruka's stomach. Perhaps he should take his position a bit seriously. Once his father passed the throne onto him, he would have to live up to his reputation, and that was not an easy thing to do.
"Haruka."
"My King," the young boy bowed mechanically, snapping out of his reverie. "You summoned me?"
"I did. Come, sit with me," the tall man called, not turning to meet his son. Haruka simply walked over and sat at the chair on the other side of his desk, and waited to be addressed.
It took a moment for the King's eyes to go to his son. His hair was jet black, like the Prince's, but the child had gotten his infinitely bright blue eyes from his mother. He was tall and well-built, although years of age and as a member of royalty had put a little weight on his hips. Haruka remembered that his mother, when she was not distanced as she was today, used to joke about them and how much she appreciated them. Now, his father was drowning in work, and his mother never left her quarters.
And Haruka would have to be King one day.
"I have news to announce to you, child," the King announced, putting his glasses down. The golden chain around them rattled loudly as it pooled on the mahogany desk, and Haruka's eyes darted to it, unable to keep up his father's stare.
"May I inquire what those news may be?" Haruka asked softly, hands twitching slightly in nervousness.
"First of all, I want to talk about your grades," the King continued, and Haruka's heart stopped for a moment. He knew it. He was here to be punished.
"Your Highness," Haruka began. "I know that I have not been applying myself entirely to my studies-"
"Haruka," the King cut in, silencing the child effectively. He sighed and then stood. "Come with me to the window."
Haruka obediently followed, apprehensive, and yet curious. Together, they gazed out of the large glass, onto the castle town illuminated by the mid-morning light. From where they stood, Haruka could not see the individual people who were bustling at this time of day in the cobblestone streets of the town, but he could see the wriggling of the masses and he knew that he was meant to cherish these people as his own one day. He wasn't ready, though. And he wasn't sure if he would ever be.
"This kingdom is only as successful as it is because I control it," his father began. "Do you see the people down in the streets? They live because I give them the opportunity. I provide the guards to insure their safety. I ration the water so that everybody can have some of it. I provide them with food, and clothing, and shelter. I am the heart of this nation." He finally turned to his son. "And some day, it will be your turn to protect them."
"Your Highness, if I may," Haruka added in. "I am doing my best with my instructors."
"That is not what the tell me. They tell me instead that you spend your time swimming in the fountain, drawing in the courtyard, and daydreaming up in the fruit trees."
"However, I do work hard," Haruka interjected, slightly offended that his efforts were not being paid attention to. Then again, he should have expected this from his father. His strong, stoic, cold, distant father. "I have passed my examinations."
"And yet your instructors fail to be impressed with you," the King shook his head. "Child, you cannot lead a kingdom if you cannot discipline yourself to excel in your studies."
"My King, I-"
"Say no more, Haruka. You cannot tarnish the reputation of this family with your frivolities. You are given a task, and that is to train yourself to become King. You cannot let yourself waste away with your head in the clouds. The future belongs to those who wake up in time for it. Surely you listened in your poetry classes and you know the importance of being ready from early on."
"Father!" Haruka frowned, and then, realizing what he'd said, he let a minuscule gasp escape his lips. Stiffening, he turned his eyes to the floor, feeling infinitely small next to the hulking giant that was his father. His King.
"Haruka." His tone was cold. "I am not your father." How many times had the child heard that before? It never stopped hurting one bit, however. "I am your King, and if you are to address me, I expect you to address me as you should."
"Apologies, your Highness," Haruka muttered back, his tongue heavy like lead in his mouth.
"Better."
"What I meant to say is that..." He had no words for it. "I... I..."
"Do not stutter, boy. It is most unbecoming," he King criticized snappily, obviously tired with the Prince's attitude.
"What I meant to say, my King, is that I feel as if I am not given the opportunity to live my life as a child yet. The future belongs to those who wake up in time for it, but the future also belongs to those who dream. I don't feel that I am ready to devote my mind and soul to Kingship just yet. I wish to remain a child some time longer," Haruka countered, and a strange kind of pride welled up in his heart for being able to use such grandiose words in the presence of his father. Perhaps this would prove that he could still talk elegantly, and that his manners had not completely fallen apart.
"Child," the King sighed, however, and the small part of Haruka that had been filled with hope suddenly found itself sinking to the bottom of a deep, dark lake. "No... Prince Nanase, Heir to the Throne of the Kingdom of Iwatobi... You are no man." The words chilled the child to the bone. "You are authority. You are the hand of justice. You are a figure of peace. Under no circumstances are you to be a mortal man. You are not like others. You are royalty, and you are the future of the kingdom. And so, you cannot let the alibi of age wear you down." The King stepped away from the window, and walked back to his desk. "You came of age when you were eight years old. Now at eleven, you are more than old enough to assume all of your responsibilities as heir."
"I am twelve years old," Haruka pouted in a rather childish manner, but returned to the desk to sit again. Anger itched the front of his brain, and the normally collected child bit the hook, just this once. His face contorted in an ugly grimace that expressed how uncomfortable he was and he lowered his eyes to the ground. "And with all due respect, I fail to understand how you claim to be able to protect this kingdom when you don't even accord audiences to the people. You do not make public appearances. You do not contact your people. You do not make bonds with them. Any good King is one that is loved by the kingdom, and yet you do not seem to want to have any sort of compassion for anybody."
He only realized how clipped his tone was when a heavy silence fell upon them. And as he always did, he regretted his words.
"... Who has been filling your head with nonsense, Prince?"
"... Huh?"
"Was it the court? Did their mindless gossip get to you? Or was it that servant boy of yours, exceeding his boundaries and poisoning your mind as such?" The King's eyes were cold, and suddenly, Haruka was afraid.
"N-No, Sire. Makoto had nothing to do with this. I have come to realize these things on my own."
"You realize nothing," the King's tone escalated. "You know nothing, Haruka! You call your servant by his first name. You sleep through your classes, neglect your homework, address your entourage without considering your position, have no manners, and have no self-control." His eyes flashed angrily. "You are ignorant, and you still think like a child, which you are not. You are a Prince, you are an Heir, and you will learn to be one. And it would be in your best interest to learn this quickly. Now bite your tongue and swallow your disrespect before I resort to higher means to discipline you."
Haruka only realized that his tongue was dry when he tried to answer. Shakily, he stood up from his chair, and although he did not trust his knees not to buckle, he bowed deeply and long to the King.
"Please accept my humble apologies, your Highness. I spoke out of turn, and I didn't mean to challenge your authority." Anger, and perhaps some sadness burned his eyes as he fought to compose himself.
"And...?"
"And... And I know nothing of which I speak. I will work harder to excel and educate myself in order to avoid embarrassing myself with my ignorance," the Prince mumbled, his heart clenching. If only they had the world as their audience. Then maybe people would forgive him for always wanting the warm embrace of water around his body and dreams around his mind.
Maybe if somebody saw him, somebody would love him.
"Apology accepted. Do not speak out of turn again," the King sighed. "Now. If you are done making a fool of yourself, I wish to announce the news for which I summoned you."
"Yes, Sire?" Haruka nodded, not daring sit down again.
"I have procured myself somebody for you. He will be your companion from now on and will accompany you to your classes and lessons."
"If I may ask," Haruka cut in, curious. "What is the purpose of being accorded such a companion?"
"You will see. In any case, it is my hope that he will motivate you to concentrate on your duties instead of acting out of turn," the King looked at his son once more, and then turned his gaze to the papers he was reading beforehand. "I only do this as a last resort, but you have given me no choice, Haruka. Go to your chambers. He will be brought to you after lunchtime."
"I'm not sure I understand," Haruka frowned, cocking his head questioningly. How was another boy going to motivate him to work harder? Unless the guy was built like a tower and would carry him back to his lessons if he ever escaped, he didn't see how this would help any.
"You do not need to. I only trust you will be able to get along with him." The King waved dismissively at the Prince. "You may take your leave."
And Haruka did, but he couldn't shake off the confusion and uneasiness that the meeting had put upon his shoulders.
...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...
Makoto brought him lunch in his room, and Haruka disregarded most of his plate, to his friend's obvious dismay. They had not spoken about the meeting, but something was bugging Haruka, and Makoto was understandably worried.
"So," the taller boy began once he got tired of Haruka pushing his peas around his plate. "What did his Highness call you about?"
"He yelled at me for being bad at my studies. Again," Haruka huffed petulantly. "I don't want to be this ideal model of a prince that he puts up for me. It sounds boring, and I never asked for it."
"But Haru..." Makoto sighed, edging closer to the black-haired boy. Away from the public, he was not shy to address his friend as just that; a friend. "Just as I'm a servant, you are a prince. We both have duties to fulfill to keep the balance of this world, and both of our roles are important for society. We make do with what we have."
"I just wish I could be a kid, though." Haruka sighed. "Sometimes I look outside at the training grounds and watch the younger recruits play outside. Or when the servants are on break, they sometimes pick a corner of the gardens to go chat and enjoy the sun. I wish I could join them. They don't have to worry about passing grades, or table manners. They just... live."
"But without people like you to bring order and justice, they would not be able to live," Makoto smiled sadly. He desperately wanted to hug the troubled prince, but held back, lest he overstep his boundaries. Haruka and him were friends, but ingrained notions of class distinctions still existed within them both, and Makoto just liked to consider himself lucky that only he could call the Prince by his nickname. Perhaps the day would come where he would be able to touch his friend as well, but today was not that day. Today, he would only wrap his words of comfort around Haruka instead of his arms.
"Then... just this once, I want to be selfish and ask that I be able to live as well..." Haruka sighed, and pushed his tray away from him, all appetite gone. Behind him, Makoto came to pick his tray up and stepped back with a small chuckle.
"I don't know what his Highness is criticizing you for, but I'm thinking that all of those poetry classes paid off. You speak very nicely, Haru. And I think you're slowly but surely on your way to becoming a great King," he told him, watching as a bit of tension melted off the Prince's frame. It was good to know that Haruka had at least one friend in this world. "I will go return this to the kitchen. I'll be right back."
Haruka did not reply, and knowing that he wouldn't acknowledge him, Makoto left, leaving the Prince to stew in his own thoughts. And so he thought. He thought about his words for what seemed like an eternity, until-
"Umm... hello?"
Ah. Had Makoto returned already? It mustn't have been that long, then, that he had begun to contemplate his life.
"Come in, Makoto," Haruka sighed distractedly, laying his head down on the table tiredly. His brain was pounding inside his skull, giving him the worst headache ever. He just wanted to sleep and never wake up.
"I'm not Makoto," the newcomer hummed, though, which quickly got Haruka moving. He finally registered that the voice was unknown, more vibrant and more squeaky than that of his personal attendant's.
Stepping out of his seat, he turned around in a flurry, ready to defend himself with what meagre martial arts skills he possessed.
The motion proved futile, as the person invading his personal chambers was nobody but a young boy like him, messy hair the colour of sweet wine and eyes just like a burning fire. When their eyes met, a fiery sunset casting its dying light over a sea of blue, the boy grinned wide, exposing his scarily pointed teeth.
"Hey there! Sorry to bother you, but I'm actually looking for Prince Haruka," the boy waved. "You wouldn't happen to know where he is, right?"
And Haruka, for the second time that day, found himself speechless. That is, until the boy cocked his head worriedly.
"Hey, you okay? Are you a selective mute or something?"
"I-" Haruka was relieved to find his voice again, and yet in all of his surprise, could only find one thing to say out of instinct. "You are in the presence of Prince Nanase, Heir to the throne of Iwatobi. I have not sent for you. Who are you and what do you want?"
And despite the cold front, he was intrigued by how familiar the boy's presence seemed to be to him already. He was comforting. He reminded him of the warm water in the courtyard fountain.
"Whoa, so it is you." The kid nodded. "Well then, sorry for interrupting, your Highness." But the way he said that title showed that it didn't carry any weight to him, and that it was used slightly ironically as well. Haruka bristled at this guy's informality. How dare he address him in ways that even Makoto had only begun to address him? Who did he think he was?
"Declare yourself and your intentions," Haruka ordered, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. The red-haired boy seemed to notice the tense posture because he laughed.
"Hey, hey, calm down! I'm not gonna hurt you, or anything. In fact, I'm kinda useless. But hey, my name is Rin Matsuoka. I know it's a girl's name, but don't worry, I'm a boy. And from today on, I'm gonna be your friend!"
The redhead was a flurry that Haruka had trouble keeping up with, and his head spun by the time the introductions were made.
"Matsuoka?"
"Yep. But you can call me Rin. Let's be friends, Prince Haruka!" the boy grinned again, his pointy teeth glinting in the midday light.
"Friends...?"
"Yeah, you know..." Rin looked a bit thrown off. "We can play together, eat together, I'll sit with you when you study, and all that stuff. You know, things that friends usually do!"
"But..." Haruka tried to compute the information. "Makoto is my friend already."
"What do they teach you around here?" Rin cocked his head, amused. "You don't have to limit yourself to one friend. You can have many!"
"I... can?" Haruka frowned, not understanding. Already Makoto's presence at his side had been viewed as unnecessary and detrimental by his father, and now he was being sent a bubbly kid about his age to keep him company? And all of this, after it was established that he was failing at everything he stood for?
He raised his gaze to observe Rin, and the two looked at each other for quite some time, both of them evaluating the other. And yet, neither of them understood the circumstances. And so, obviously the first to break the truce, Rin laughed.
"You're weird."
"Watch your tongue." Haruka bristled. "You are taking too many liberties with me. I am a prince, and you have no rank, and so insults will not be tolerated."
"Right." Rin did not seem deterred, though he did step down for the time being. "Well, your Princeliness, I hope we can be friends anyway. Even though I'm just a peasant and your organs are obviously made of gold."
Haruka wanted to reply that he didn't mean it like that, but he figured that if he was to follow in his father's footsteps, he was to start pushing people away as soon as he could. The circumstances were very contradictory, though. First, his father told him to stop being human and start being a figure, and then he granted him someone whose sole purpose seemed to be to become a friend.
Something was off about the whole situation.
But then Makoto arrived in a hurry, apologizing and saying something about having to do the dishes, and Rin immediately jumped on the occasion of introducing himself again. Haruka watched them both click, as if they both understood each other on another level, and smile as if they'd known each other for years.
Something acidic burned his heart.
Haruka brushed it off as being the peas he'd eaten.
...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...
Rin was, to say the least, a breath of fresh air.
Or more like a gust of summer wind, Haruka supposed, since that was a more appropriate analogy.
He was a hurricane, if that was an even better analogy.
For all of the emotions that Haru did not express, Rin expressed them twofold. For all the times that Haru sat down, Rin ran a lap around the room. For all the times Haru asked a question, Rin demanded an answer. When Haru spoke volumes in silence, Rin told stories with heated gusto.
And slowly but surely, Haruka warmed up to having him around. For all the times that Makoto was caught up doing chores, Rin would buzz around him, loaded with stories and questions and requests that would oftentimes make Haruka's head spin.
And Rin accompanied him wherever he went. When Haruka decided to do his mathematics homework another time and grabbed a suit to go swimming in the fountain, Rin followed him eagerly and jumped in fully clothed. Then, when Haru went out to dry on the grass, Rin told him a common folktale about a girl who was half-fish and half-human who fell in love with a prince and defied every law to be with him. Later on, Rin came with him to his language class, and sat silently beside him even though he understood nothing of what Haru was talking about in several foreign languages. And then, he volunteered to go get their dinner from the kitchen, and brought back a plate of food for Haru that had a smiley face drawn on it with sauce.
It was at times like these that Haruka felt the most alive he had felt in years. And at the same time, as time progressed and he and Rin became closer, he felt more and more apprehensive of his father's motives to get him someone who would actually encourage him to skip his classes and eat his food without proper cutlery. Rin was supposed to keep him in check... Was he just being terrible at his job? Then in that case, why didn't his father fire him the second he failed?
Every time he looked at the light in Rin's eyes, he couldn't help but feel a knot in his stomach.
A month passed. Two months. Two months became three, which then bled into four. Before they knew it, the two boys had spent half a year together, and there was no end in sight.
"You never talk about yourself," Haruka brought up at some point over lunch, interrupting Rin, who was talking about how it would be nice to have a few last dips in the fountain before the weather got too cold for it. The redhead stopped talking, stunned for a second, and then grinned. It wasn't the usual grin, though. Something was off about it.
"Well I'm not so interesting. Just another commoner," he shrugged, returning his gaze to his food. "Anyway, so as I was saying, I was going to ask if I could have another-"
"Rin," Haruka cut in again, unsatisfied with the answer. The other looked at him, one eyebrow raised in confusion, and sighed.
"I told you. There's nothing special about me, and nothing to say."
"Everybody has a life, though, and so everybody is unique. I want to know you," Haruka insisted. "You follow me around every day and you never leave me alone, which is understandably annoying at times, but the point is, you know everything about me, and I just know your name in return."
"Well..." Rin's eyes flashed, and he seemed to calculate his words. "I'm Rin Matsuoka, twelve and a half, companion to his Royal Highness Prince Nanase, Heir to the kingdom of Iwatobi. My hobbies include swimming, and apparently, annoying his Royal Highness with all of my constant pestering."
"Funny." But all Haruka did was roll his eyes. "But that's only what you are. I want to know who you are."
"Huh," Rin seemed to be taken aback by this. "Maybe we should skip poetry more often. You're getting way too eloquent for your own good, Haru."
"Prince Haruka."
"Prince Haruka, if you insist. But I mean, that's really all there is to me."
"I want to know about your family. Where you lived. Why you came here," Haruka shook his head. "My father didn't just happen to pass you by on the street and pay you to be my friend."
"That's what you think happened? That I was paid for being your friend?" Rin winced, as if taking great personal offence from the statement. "To be honest, I don't know either. I don't know what I did to land myself here. But all I know is that I don't regret it."
He suddenly lifted his eyes up and smiled. The sincerity in his expression felt strangely terrifying to the Prince of Iwatobi. His feelings were sincere, but his words were not. Rin was hiding something, and Haruka was not stupid. He wanted to know, though, and he was about to push it further before his playmate jumped off his stool and grabbed his plate.
"Sorry, I'm gonna take this to the kitchen, and then I've got some things to do. I'll get Makoto for you, okay?" he excused himself in a really messy manner, rushing to get away from Haru as if he would be physically sick if he stood any closer.
"Rin-"
"I'll be back later, okay? Okay. Seeya!" Rin nodded to him and all but ran out of the room.
This only left Haruka alone, intrigued, and most of all, worried.
When Makoto came to take his tray, Haruka stopped him.
"Do you know why Rin is here?" he asked, feeling slightly guilty for probing where his companion -his friend?- obviously did not want him to go.
"No, I just know that he's around to keep you company." Makoto shrugged. "Did you two fight, Haru? He seemed awfully out of it when he came to the kitchen to give in his dishes."
"No, we didn't fight," Haru shook his head, and fell into silence for a bit. "Makoto... If you find out anything about Rin, anything at all... Will you tell me?"
Makoto looked at him softly, and then smiled. Haruka couldn't exactly place that smile, though.
"My Prince... Whatever it is, if it's something he wants to tell you, he'll tell you when the time is right."
And he left before Haruka could argue that he never even answered his question.
What was it with people never being straightforward with him?
Rin did not come back in time for his fencing lessons with the Captain of the guard. Instead, he fenced against a few of the newer recruits, and bemoaned the fact that he did not feel the same rush as when he fought against Rin. After the fencing lesson, he headed to the fountain, hoping to find Rin there, but the redhead was nowhere to be found. Instead of taking a dip as he usually did after his fencing lessons, he immediately headed up to his quarters and had the maids draw him a bath instead.
The bath helped him collect his thoughts, and yet the stagnant, lifeless water seemed to suffocate him, rather unlike the water of his fountain.
Their fountain.
For Haruka could not imagine swimming without Rin there to egg him on, provoke him into racing, and splash him even when he told him to stop. The water felt cold without him.
What had he become? When did he get so attached to the annoying brat who always bothered him when he actually tried to get work done?
The bad feeling would not abate, though, and so when Haruka got out of the bath and let the maids dress him in some casual clothing, he convinced himself that he would watch Rin closely, not because he was worried about his wellbeing, but because he did not want him to cause any trouble. That was all there was to it.
…OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…
Two weeks later, the first gusts of cold autumn wind began blowing falling leaves around in the garden, and Haruka could not help but look outside the window throughout the entirety of his politics lesson. Rin noticed the lost expression in his eyes, even when the instructor asked him questions and called him back to attention. He did not ask about it, because he knew, and he was not surprised when Haruka caved in all too easily to his suggestion of skipping in on jury duty to go play in the leaves outside.
"It's the most satisfying feeling when the leaves crunch under your feet," he explained as if he knew it all, letting the Prince throw on a light coat before leading him outside. The air was chilly, and yet it did not seem to bother Rin, who was dressed a little lighter than Haruka. "We can gather up bunches of them and then jump in them together!"
"I hardly think there are enough leaves on the ground to make piles from," Haruka countered, as expressionless as ever as he listened to his friend rave on.
"Don't be a spoilsport, Haru."
"Prince Haruka."
"See? You're being a spoilsport," Rin puffed his cheeks out in a very childish manner, and Haruka was struck by how grateful he felt for Rin's presence.
It had become so isolating to be the only heir to the throne, and whether or not Rin had been hired to be his friend, the fact still stood that he broke down the barriers of loneliness that Haruka had been forced to construct around himself. And Rin kept him alive when nobody else could.
"Alright, come along," Haruka sighed, knowing there would be no winning against his friend. Rin made a small noise of excitement and fell a step behind him, having learned through his months in the palace the norms of respect. There was enough talk in the castle about the Heir and his peasant companion, and so the boys had struck a non-verbal deal to try and behave in public to avoid more unpleasant rumours.
The garden was empty, to their relief, and as soon as they got there, Rin began his mission to gather leaves for the piles. Haruka watched him for a few moments, and then decided that he may as well help out. Together, they gathered up a sizeable amount of dry leaves and put them all together, and then stepped back to observe their work. The tips of their noses and their cheeks were red with cold and exertion, but when Rin grinned proudly, Haruka could not help but feel proud as well.
"Okay, on three, we jump in!" he prompted, taking a few steps back. "One, two, three!"
And before he knew it, Haruka was running as well, taken by Rin's game and swept up alongside him. The boys jumped into the pile of dead leaves (and it was indeed as satisfying as they imagined it would be) and rolled around some. Rin laughed enough for them both. And when Haruka saw how happy his companion was, he let his lips twitch upwards momentarily, the closest thing to a smile he'd had in a long time.
He was happy.
"Your Highness?"
The call drew him out of his bliss, and Haruka sat up to see who was calling him. A tall silhouette came forward, and Haruka recognized him as his calligraphy instructor, a stodgy old man with an unadulterated passion for quills and complicated cursive.
"What is it?" he asked a bit snappily, although the tone was unbecoming of one of his stature.
"Your Highness, you were supposed to be on jury duty an hour ago! What are you doing here?" the old man asked, sighing as if he already knew the answer.
"I am too young for the jury to consider my opinions, and both the jury members and I already know it. It was pointless for me to show up," Haruka argued, shrugging. Behind him, Rin had fallen silent, knowing to keep his mouth shut when Haruka was being addressed as an official.
"Considered or not, you have a duty, your Grace, and instead you spend your time rolling in filth with… with this!" the man let out a frustrated groan, waving at Rin, whose eyes widened minutely.
"Hey! I have a name-"
"Rin," Haruka warned, and Rin backed off grumpily. "My sole and unique duty is to the people, and by attending a trial where my voice would not even be heard, I am not furthering my duty," he replied calmly, as if he knew what he was doing. He'd been reprimanded a hundred times before, and it had not stopped him.
"Your Highness, with all due respect, that is incredibly irresponsible of you. I will have to report your actions to the King, regrettably," his instructor shook his head, and for a second, he really did look regretful. At this point, Haruka was too annoyed to be rational, though, so he huffed and crossed his arms.
"So be it. Run to my father, see if he'll care," he spat out bitterly, surprising both his companion and his teacher with how cold he was being.
"With your leave, then, Prince Nanase," the man bowed, and took a few steps back before hurrying off.
Haruka stayed sitting for a moment longer, and then flopped down in the leaves again.
"Haru?"
"Prince Haruka."
"Whatever." Rin's tone held no amusement whatsoever. "Maybe we should have gone to the trial after all…"
"What the point?" Haruka sighed. "I wouldn't be doing anything at all, anyway. It's not even like I can go there to learn how things work; I've already attended at least a hundred trials and have tried to make my voice heard a hundred times!"
"But I mean… If your instructor is really going to tell the King…" Rin tried again, but Haruka cut him off with a loaded sigh.
"And what will the King do? Reprimand me again? Take privileges away from me? Will he finally raise a hand against me?" And yet his tone was more acidic than apprehensive. "He's too busy running a country to give a damn about his own son."
Silence fell between them, and the breeze froze their numbed skin. Then, Rin stood up and brushed himself off.
"That's not a very eloquent way of speaking at all, you know," he mumbled, and then cracked a small, pained smile. "As your language teacher would say; 'Ill-befitting of a man of your stature'."
Haruka watched him for just a second before pushing himself up and dusting himself off as well. It was no use thinking about it, at any rate. He'd gotten into trouble countless times before, and this time would be no different.
"You listen more than I do in my lessons."
"Hey, just because you're grown up with them, doesn't mean everybody has. They're interesting!" Rin hummed, letting Haruka take the lead in returning to the castle.
And that's when Haruka realized that for all the closeness they had built up in the past half-year, he and Rin were so incredibly different that at some point in time, the small rift between them would unquestionably become a huge divide.
…OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…
Guards came for Rin later in the afternoon.
For once, Haruka had sat down and was diligently filling out his homework whilst Rin peeked over his shoulder when there was a knock at the door.
"Your Highness! Permission to enter!"
"Granted," Haruka called out, frowning as he turned to face the door. Three guards came in, fully armed, and bowed to him.
"Your Grace. By Royal Decree of his Majesty, King Nanase of Iwatobi, we have a warrant to arrest Rin Matsuoka."
"What?" Haruka and Rin echoed at the same time, both as stunned as the other. Haruka was the first to recover, however.
"On what charges?" he growled softly, although he knew it was futile. The King's words were the words of the gods, and so he could have anybody arrested without specifying any charges at all.
"Unspecified, Sire," the guard replied, and Haruka could not say that he didn't see that coming.
"Haru?" Rin asked shakily from next to him. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Rin," Haruka's blood ran cold as it hit him that Rin, one of the only constants in his life, was about to be taken away from him. "Don't worry." And yet he found the strength to stay calm for the both of them.
"Your Grace, please give us access to the prisoner or we will be forced to use strength!" Another guard warned, rushing Haruka.
"Rin," he repeated, turning to his companion. Rin's eyes were wide and worried, and uncomprehending. "Go with them for now."
"You're not serious!" Rin gasped. "I didn't do anything, you know that!"
"I know," Haruka nodded, licking his lips. "I promise I won't let any harm come to you. I will speak to my father and have him release you as soon as I can."
"You promise?" the other boy asked meekly, searching the Prince's eyes for the telltale signs of a lie but he found nothing. Haruka was being earnest, if that was any comfort to him at all.
"I promise. Go with them. They will not hurt you if you comply," Haruka nodded, standing from his chair with Rin to accompany him to the guards. Two of them motioned for Rin to leave the room, which he did hesitantly after one last worried look at Haruka. The two left with him, leaving Haruka with the first guard.
"I request to know all I am to know about Rin Matsuoka's arrest," he demanded in the most regal fashion he could muster, staring down the guard although he was at least two heads smaller than him.
"There is no information to be divulged, Highness. However, the King requests your presence in the court room immediately. Maids have been sent for to prepare for your audience," the guard explained briskly. "By your leave."
"Just leave," Haruka muttered very inelegantly, not even watching the guard turn around and leave the study room. Left alone in silence, Haruka only then realized how empty the castle walls felt without Rin's vigour around to fill them with life.
Makoto arrived a few minutes later, panting as he'd obviously run up to the study room.
"Haru!" he called, rushing in and noting the distant look in his friend's eyes. "I-I heard what happened. What did Rin do?"
"Nothing," Haruka protested, and with a blooming horror, he realized that his father had been right all along. "I… I don't know. I don't know anything."
"Hey, hey, calm down," Makoto hushed his own uneasiness in order to support the Prince. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."
"I hope so…"
"Well, in any case, I'll escort you up to your dressing room. The maids are already preparing your outfit for the audience," he ushered without letting the urgency slip into his voice. "Come."
Haruka complied, too numb to resist.
The maids in his dressing room worked on him in a flurry, rushing around to clean up his hair which still had pieces of dry leaves tangled in it. Haruka let them handle him, and never said a word to them until they finished. Then, he stepped over to Makoto, and still as silent as ever, let his personal attendant guide him to the court room.
Makoto accompanied him in this time, following him at a respectful distance as Haruka's boots clicked on the shining tiles. The room was wide, and ornately decorated with stained glass windows and portraits of famous judges. The seats for the audience were lined up, rich mahogany benches parted at the middle to allow the accused to walk up to the bar, and the seats for the jury were cushioned with deep red cloth laced with gold trimmings. The columns of ivory rose tall to support the ceiling, and yet to anybody walking in here, the world always seemed to be crashing down.
"Prince Haruka," one of the guards at the bar bowed. "His Highness requests you sit up in the judge's cubicle with him."
Haruka absently nodded and walked over to the judge's seat, Makoto stopping at the foot of the small stairs that led up in respect. The King was already seated, expression grave and distant, as always.
"Your Highness," Haruka called, bowing to him before coming any closer. "What is the meaning of this?"
"It is not your place to ask questions, Haruka," the King gruffly replied. "Take a seat and watch. And learn from your mistakes."
"What are you going to do to Rin?" Haruka pressed on, more and more panicked with every second that ticked by. The audience's and the jury's eyes were all on them, and though they could not hear the exchanged words, they could definitely read the distress on Haruka's normally impassive face.
"I will use him for the sole purpose I procured him to you for," the King answered unclearly, and if Haruka had any comment to make, it was swallowed by the sound of the large double doors slamming open on the other side.
All noise quieted as the guards dragged in a bound and terrified Rin dressed in shockingly simple clothes. There was nothing more that Haruka wanted to do than vault over the cubicle and go to his friend to steal away the fear in his eyes. And yet he was rooted, by obligation, by duty, and by his own weakness.
"Rin Matsuoka," the King began in a booming voice that he was well-known for. All chatter in the large room ceased and all eyes went to the child trembling under the weight of all the stares in the room. "Come forward."
The guards dragged Rin to the centre of the room, the boy stumbling to keep up. Once in place, they pushed him to his knees, and then backed away.
Rin looked up and searched for comfort in Haruka's gaze. His eyes were glistening in the light and Haruka's heart wrenched because he could tell how hard his friend was trying to keep his tears at bay. And yet, he could do nothing. Both of them were as powerless as the other.
"In light of Prince Haruka's recent disobedience, a new decree shall be passed, in vigour in the entirety of the castle," the King continued. "It is common knowledge that only I, as supreme ruler, am allowed to touch the Prince in physical discipline. However, from today on, I encourage all members of the court to keep the Prince in check and teach him to behave through the bias of Rin Matsuoka."
"What?" Haruka exclaimed, dizziness taking him by surprise. Rin… Rin was down there because of him? Because he had been disobedient? That hardly seemed fair. "I cannot condone this! I will take responsibility for my wrongdoings!" he protested, panic rising in his tone with every syllable that escaped his lips.
"Haruka, stand down," the King glared down at his son, who shrank despite himself. "There are only so many times I can admonish you for your lack of discipline. This is a final measure, but you have brought this upon yourself."
"No," Haruka shook his head frantically. "Please, please, I'm sorry." The words tumbled out of his mouth, no longer destined for a King, but from a son to his father. His small hands clenched into fists as he begged, something he never thought he'd have to do. "Please, no."
"Guards," the King called instead, and a small whimper escaped Haruka's throat. One of the guards behind Rin advanced, at the same time retrieving a whip from his belt and uncoiling it. From on the ground, Rin began struggling, hysteria rising within him. Haruka watched him struggle to break free of the bonds around his wrists and tears welled up in his eyes.
And he felt sick to the stomach when the guard gently pushed Rin's baggy shirt up, over his head, because the motion proved how nobody was out to hurt Rin, but all were out to hurt Haruka.
"No," he whimpered again, and realized that he'd been whispering the word like a mantra under his breath the entire time that the guard prepared the frightened child on the floor.
"May this prove a sentence enough for your disobedience," the King sighed as if he was regretful, and in that moment, Haruka hated nobody more than his own father.
"Don't do this," he begged one last time, his eyes searching for Rin's. He found his gaze, and promptly, Rin burst into silent tears. Haruka's hands flew to his mouth to keep in a horrified sob. If he showed weakness, he would never be forgiven.
"Perhaps when you learn to be a proper king, you will have the right to give me orders," his father coldly replied without skipping a beat, and nodded at the guard.
The first lash was the least painful for both of them. Rin let out a small, inaudible whimper as the momentum pushed his small body forward, and Haruka held his breath. The second was no more painful, more of a sting than anything else, to Rin's body and to Haruka's mind.
And then the third broke skin, and Rin cried out.
Time blurred after that.
Lash after lash after lash, the sound of leather hitting smooth skin pervaded the room and echoed off the white brick walls. Rin's cried punctuated every lash, and when the tears in his back began to crisscross and overlap one another, his cries also bled into one another and he began to sob, loudly and unashamedly.
And in the meantime, Haruka felt the blood drain from his face and dizziness take him. Somewhere in between Rin's wails, he might have sobbed a little as well, but he didn't know. He didn't know a thing. He didn't know how much longer he'd have to watch Rin bear the brunt of his mistakes, he didn't know how to make it up to him, he didn't know how to react, and he sure as hell didn't know why he'd even let this happen in the first place.
At some point, the guard finally stepped back. Haruka didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he let it out shakily, eyes trained on the crumpled figure on the ground.
Rin had laid his face against the cool tiles under him. Blood had splattered his clothes and skin and parts of the floor. His face in itself was a mess of tears, snot, and saliva, and Haruka couldn't blame him. On the contrary, he admired him, because Rin still had the strength to look up at Haruka and let him bear some of the pain he felt. If only he could do more than just support Rin on a distance.
"The court is dismissed."
The King's deep voice barely registered in Haruka's head because he had jumped out of his seat already. Rushing down the stairs, only his ragged breaths broke through the ringing in his ears. His vision, in and out of focus, could only find Rin further away as a couple of servant gently helped him up and covered his naked chest with a blanket.
"-ruka-"
It was his fault, it was his fault, it was his fault-
"Prince Haruka!"
Haruka took a gasping breath as if he'd just broken through the water after drowning for so long, and turned to see Makoto behind him. The servant had the same expression as he had, twisted in pain and sadness, but his eyes were clear and determined.
"Prince Haruka, you are pale. I will escort you to your chambers." Both of their eyes went to Rin, who was still sobbing as the servants helped him limp out of the court room from the back halls. Another pang tore at Haruka's heartstrings, and he made a move to join him. Apologize. Make sure he was okay. Anything but sit up in the tribunes and watch his friend get beaten because of him.
He had never felt so powerless in his entire life.
"Prince Haruka," Makoto called again, shifting a bit to position himself in front of Haruka. "The servants will take care of him. I will go find him afterwards. For now, please let me take you back to your chambers. You look as if you'll faint." There was no mistaking the concern in Makoto's voice, but Haruka did not deserve it. He was the lowest of the low. The dirt under his father's shoes. The dirt under Rin's shoes.
He deserved nothing.
And yet, he numbly followed Makoto, who escorted him out and away from prying gazes.
Once in his chambers, alone with Makoto, Haruka cried.
…OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…
At age eight, Prince Haruka got a stern talk about his future as King.
At age ten, Prince Haruka got nothing but disappointment from his entourage.
At age twelve, Prince Haruka got a whipping boy.
Author's Notes
Whipping boys are historically accurate figures that were present in royal households mostly in England during the 16th century. Ish. Most of the time, they were another noble of the same age as the throne's heir, who studied and played and grew up with the royal. Thus, the two obviously built a bond as they grew. Now, as the heir grew, he would obviously misbehave, and since only the King could punish his children physically (and often did not have time for it), the noble companion of the royal would be treated as a whipping boy, literally a person that figures of authority would physically hurt in order to dissuade the royal from misbehaving again.
Rin's not noble in this one, but hey. The rest is accurate!
Yep. Please review uwu