A/N: Hey AB section! Dropping in real quick one last time this weekend with a TEDOU update. I took so long to upload this chapter because I was obsessing over one simple detail, but it is what it is and I'm eager to reveal more cast choices so here goes. Thanks to Zain for the review! Hah, you sounded like the Hound for a second there ("Fuck the King"). He's not as bad in this as he is in HC universe, I promise. Still an ass though. (I admit, it's easier to picture Yuri in Danielle's dress) Also, from DMs I know you got this part but I wanted to clarify to all just in case! The MatsuShiina wedding was when Yuri herself was young, not Shiina. I'm gonna go fix that to make it clearer!

Enjoy!


[Chapter 3]: Matters of Life and Death


Though it had taken some time and patience (as well as enduring a few apples to the head), Prince Ayato had somehow managed to get this stubborn old steed to not only behave for him but understand they were on the run. The creature had as much strength as it had spirit, much like the girl from earlier – who, he had to admit, had made quite an impression in her fierce defense of her master's property. All that bombardment for one horse? He'd never felt even half the emotional attachment to any of his own possessions.

Now the treasured stallion had carried him deep into Haruna Forest, which would bring him great relief if not for the commotion going on in the middle of his path.

"Oh no, there's nothing there!" an old man's voice cried out in distress, bringing Ayato's horse to a halt with an uncertain snort. "There's nothing! I beg you, please leave us alone – it's just pots and pans!"

The men raiding the caravan were instantly recognizable. Seaweed-green uniforms, tool belts, skin and clothes covered in dust and dirt. These were Guildsmen, known for their weapon-making, raids, and craftiness. Smart horse – it would be too dangerous to try and pass through or around them. But there was simply no time to go back the other way.

His steed shifted from leg to leg, snuffling and snorting some more. Ayato looked on with the same level of unease. The people of the caravan were ambling about like they didn't know what to do with themselves. Only a salt-and-pepper-haired man was making the most noise, chasing after one guildsman and then the next as he tried to protect his wares.

And then – this was very interesting – there was a silver-haired young lady frozen in one spot looking extremely puzzled by everything, and yet calmly smacking any hands away with what looked to be a giant metal lotus flower.

And that seemed to be working out well for her, as most of the guildsmen thought she was completely mad and quickly moved on to other things. Until one determined soul came along and disarmed her, knocking the peculiar contraption out of her hands. The girl grew even more startled as it went flying and hit the dirt with a clatter. But then her attention returned to the guildsman and his looting hands. Gasping, she attempted to pry him away herself.

The gasp alerted the attention of the older man (presumably her father), who came running as soon as he saw the guildsman emerge with a large canister. "No, no, no, not that! Anything but that!"

She wrestled her assailant for it with surprising strength, but the latter played as dirty as he worked. He struck the girl to the ground and barreled past her father with the treasure tucked beneath his arm. "Out of the way, old man!"

Ayato's conscience snapped at his insides. After seeing something like that, could he really just stand here and watch?

A good prince would intervene, come charging in and bring these guildsmen to justice. That was likely what his father would expect from him. Maybe it was even what his brother would have done.

But he wasn't his brother. And he never asked to be a prince. Besides, a gallant act of heroism was exactly the kind of attention he didn't need right now.

Still, what was he supposed to do…?

A piercing whistle interrupted his thoughts. All the guildsmen broke into a frenzy, shouting and running away with their loot.

"Get on the horses!"

"It's the royal guard! Run!"

Cold dread sinking into his veins, Ayato picked up on the sound of approaching hoofbeats and slowly turned to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, he could see his father's men just beyond the trees and closing in fast. He'd run out of time.

"God, I can't believe this," he groaned to himself. He'd have to take his chances past the caravan while the guildsmen were dispersing. Rolling his eyes, he gave his horse a prodding kick. "C'mon—"

The horse took off down the path, and with its obedience and reasonable speed he would've gotten away with it too… if it weren't for his damn conscience again.

His venture brought him right to the carriage where the old man was tending to his daughter. After helping her raise a cloth to her cheek, the man whirled around with wild eyes, looking this way and that until he caught sight of Ayato riding toward him.

"The painting," he wheezed, moving into the horse's path to slow him down. "Please sir, for the love of God, the painting! That man there, he's getting away!"

Ayato followed the old man's finger up the hill, where a lone guildsman was making his escape with the canister in his arms. Did this man seriously expect him to make a daring rescue for a painting?

He didn't have time for any of this. He would barely make an escape now without his pursuers getting close enough to nip at his heels! Let alone fetch the damn thing and come back to the scene of the crime!

"The guard will assist you," Ayato said, with more desperation than sternness as he tried to lead his horse away. "I cannot—"

"Please, sir."

A soft voice. Unnervingly angelic, like warmth and snow together. When he looked back to the carriage with more dread, the silver-haired girl had gotten to her feet and was staring at him as she brought her red-splotched cloth away from her busted lip. There was still a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth and it didn't seem to faze her.

"It is… my life," she said quietly.

Ayato and his borrowed steed faltered at once. Well that was just unfair. What could he do now, deny an old man and his injured daughter? But the look in her eyes, the emotion that glazed the gold and quavered in her voice… he almost believed her.

The royal guard's horses were thundering ever closer. He could see them through the thicket; surely by this point they'd spotted him as well. The point of no return.

Yelling in frustration, he startled his steed into motion and galloped up the hill in pursuit of the damned thieving guildsman.

After all, he had no choice now. But that was just the story of his life, wasn't it?


Meanwhile, in an alley near the marketplace, the Baroness Hinami Fukuda was examining what a jewelry vendor claimed to be his most magnificent brooch. Golden and pearl-studded, the design of its metalwork seemed to perfectly match the embroidering of Hisako's gown when her mother held it up to her chest. The women shared a considering look, but then Hinami turned back to the vendor and raised an eyebrow in discontent.

"No," she said simply. "Too small. Needs to draw some attention."

The vendor chuckled nervously. "I'm afraid, Baroness, anything larger might make her fall over," he advised, gesturing to Hisako's slender build.

"I guess you're right," Hinami tsked, and she and Hisako began to turn away from the booth. A bored Yui, who'd been impatiently waiting by the street corner and munching on a bite-sized pastry, perked up as her hopes soared. "We'll just have to look elsewhere."

"I – I have just the thing!" cried the vendor, waving the women back over to him. Yui muffled a whine and continued to flutter most unladylike in quiet anger.

Far above their heads, Yuzuru Otonashi leaned over the window sill of his art studio watching all of this go down. He'd been hired as lookout while Yuri borrowed his changing room – for the most ridiculous scheme he'd ever heard in his life. And being friends with Yuri Nakamura, this was truly saying something. He still couldn't wrap his mind around it. Even if he'd agreed to supply the dress.

"So, just checking, have you completely lost your mind?" Otonashi asked, turning to her with confused exasperation stitched into his brow. He crossed the room to her, stopping only to sit down on the piano bench and clutch fistfuls of his own orange hair. "Do you know what the punishment is for servants who dress above their station? Five days in the stocks."

"You'd do the same for me, admit it," Yuri said, leaning over to jab a fingernail in his chest. When he looked down, she impishly flicked his nose and darted away.

Otonashi scoffed as he watched her snatch up her shoes and disappear behind the curtain.

"Me? Pretend to be a courtier?" he echoed, the sheer ridiculousness of it bringing him to his feet again. "Prancing around like some nobleman… I've never even been to court. And neither have you!"

"Then I won't be recognized!" Yuri said, emerging slightly from behind the screen to give him an obvious look. Sometimes her brain of a best friend overlooked the simplest little things. She motioned to the mannequin. "Now, hand me that gown so I can get this over with."

Otonashi sighed, but compliantly fetched the elegant summer-white gown from its model. The noblewoman who owned this gown only left it behind so he could finish the portrait she'd commissioned. If he'd had the gall to pull off something like this, hell, he would've gone to a university and studied to be a doctor. And yet here they were, in his meager art studio surrounded by rags, fruits, and paintings.

Good paintings, though. He'd made it work. With many thanks to Yuri's support, he'd admit as much.

"They'll never buy it," Otonashi said with a laugh, bundling up the dress and tossing it over the curtain. "You're way too sweet."

"Yeah, well, they'll never buy a servant with twenty golden pieces either," Yuri muttered. She caught the dress in her arms and smoothed it out before stepping into the skirt. "I'm Matsushita's only hope."

"And the baroness? What'd you tell her?"

"I'm picking wildflowers." Otonashi snorted so hard he almost blew paint dust out of his mortar. "Otonashi, can you still see her?"

"They're buying a brooch," he said, not even bothering to look up. He knew the Fukudas far too well.

Yuri broke into a scoff of laughter; truly, neither of them was surprised at this point.

"Unbelievable. She ignores the manor, blames us for her debts, and still pretends to have money to burn." She slipped her arms into the sleeves, zipped up the back, and smoothed down the front. "Now, don't you dare laugh. I'm coming out."

When she stepped out from behind the curtain, Otonashi was busying himself with his mortar and pestle. He heard her footsteps and glanced over his shoulder, then did a double-take and turned around more fully as a huge smile broke out across his face.

Yuri wasn't sure she trusted it. Was it genuine or a dumb boyish grin?

"The shoes aren't too big?" she guessed, already feeling kind of ridiculous as she played with the skirts.

"Nobody will be looking at your feet," Otonashi said nicely.

Her cheeks warmed at his words. It'd been a long time since she'd worn anything nicer than rags and hand-me-downs. "Yards of fabric, and I still feel naked," she mumbled, running her hands over her silk sleeves.

Sighing, Otonashi set down the mortar and approached her as one would a skittish doe.

"Yuri. If you're going to be a noblewoman, you've got to play the part," he reminded her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it gently. She nodded, taking a deep breath, and he used his free hand to lift her chin. "You look down to no one."

Damn him. The wisdom in his eyes was too much for her. She blinked furiously and managed a watery grin. "I'm just a servant in a nice dress."

Otonashi grinned back and led her away by the wrist. "C'mon, let's go do something with that hair."


Ayato returned to the caravan drenched, dirtied, and dismal. Not to mention chaperoned by two men of the royal guard.

They'd been waiting for him when he emerged from the waters. So essentially after the morning he'd had, he'd fought with a guildsman, tumbled off a cliff for the second time in his life, crashed into the river below, and climbed out just for the day-long pursuit between cage and bird to end then and there.

And all this just for a stupid painting. It had better be worth millions.

Of course the rest of the royal guard was waiting for him when the three of them came back. One particular idiot – his most and least favorite of them all – was sitting on the old man's carriage, chatting amiably with the silver-haired girl as he adjusted some goods in the wagon area. Both of them looked up when her father gave a cry of joy.

"Oh, thank you!" the old man gasped, rushing to Ayato's steed with open arms. Resigned, the exhausted prince handed the canister off to him.

"Ayato, you promised," Hinata said sternly, pushing himself off the wagon.

"I know." He dismounted his horse with a grunt of pain. "I lied." Rubbing at his side, he hobbled over to join them all at the carriage. Hinata bumped his shoulder and made a face at him as he passed, which was obnoxious and unnecessary so Ayato returned it in full force. "I thought I'd see the world before I gave up my life to God and country."

"Why did you stop?" asked the silver-haired girl, glancing at him as she pulled a rolled up canvas from the canister her father had uncapped.

Ayato was in too much pain to spare another glare. Every one of his muscles ached thanks to her.

"I suppose it's because I lack conviction," he muttered, groaning as he moved his neck the wrong way. "You seem to have it in spades." He shuffled closer out of undying curiosity as her fingers gingerly unraveled the corners of her treasure. "Besides, you claimed it was a matter of life and death."

Her father chuckled beside her. "A woman always is, Sire."

The canvas unfurled to reveal a beautiful lady at a piano, with similar silver tresses but far longer. Her hair billowed out like angel wings behind her back, and her face – older than this girl, slightly fuller – was moonlike and expressive. She beamed up from the canvas, hands pressed lovingly against her heart.

Pure mirth had been painstakingly painted in her eyes, so much of it that Ayato had to look away. "She laughs at me, miss, as if she knows something I do not."

The girl hummed appreciatively. "My mother had many secrets. I merely painted one of them."

Catching his eye, Hinata cleared his throat while he mounted his horse. "Miss Tachibana has been invited to the palace as the artist-in-residence."

Ayato's mouth fell open at the name; he turned to the dainty snow-haired girl with the bruised lip and cheek and perpetual naïve expression. It had been a long day, but still, how could he have been so blind?

"Kanade Tachibana?" he managed dumbly.

She slipped the painting back into its gilded canister with a humble smile and bow. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I hope I haven't caused you too much trouble already."

An honor! The honor very much was his. He'd heard stories of the young girl who'd been raised by pianists to master the keys herself, only to start painting from childhood as she claimed to hear colors in music. Her mother and father had willingly fostered her creativity to the point where she'd even blossomed into dabbling with invention. This girl had stepped out of her parents' shadows and become everything her heart had desired, all by the age of seventeen!

"Here I am on my way to Shibuya and I find my salvation on the highway!" Ayato said excitedly, seizing her by the shoulders. "Tachibana, you are the very essence of forward thinking and my father is the king of backward. Perhaps you can talk him into this century!"

Kanade looked utterly bewildered again, searching over his shoulder for help. "Captain Hinata, please translate."

When Ayato loosened his grip and turned knowingly with a watchful eye, Hinata gave a meager shrug. "Uh, Prince Ayato suffers from an… arranged marriage, my lady," he said simply. Satisfied, the prince turned away, and Hinata muttered under his breath, "Among other things."

Ayato glared at him; Hinata coughed and looked innocently onward. For the captain of the royal guard, the dolt could get too big for his britches.


With his royal pursuit having come to an embarrassing end, Ayato found it within his interest to prolong the inevitable by making one important stop. The horse that had carried him thus far was old and clearly beloved. A lingering bump on his temple reminded him to take it back where it belonged.

And so his journey brought him back to the farm, and up to a manor his royal guard informed him belonged to one Baroness Hinami Fukuda. The lady of the house herself appeared at the door just as he was riding up, all smiles and finery like she had seen him coming.

"Your Highness! What a lovely surprise," the baroness welcomed him with a pronounced curtsy. She peered up at him with candied eyes, which batted incessantly. "To what do we owe this great honor?"

"I'm returning your horse, Baroness," said Ayato, and gestured for the guards to bring it forward.

"Oh." She stood, decidedly unaffected by the news. "Was it missing?"

"Yes, I took the liberty of borrowing it this morning," he explained, rather puzzled by her anticlimactic reaction. Based on the reception he got this morning, he'd assumed the horse was more cherished than that. "I'm afraid I may have scared the wits out of one of your servants, a young lady with, uh…" he chuckled nervously, touching his temple at the memory, "quite a good arm, actually."

"She is mute, my lord," the baroness said instantly.

"Really? She spoke quite forcefully."

The baroness's lips twitched with a frown, but she gracefully maintained her composure.

"Well, it comes and goes," she replied, waving the issue away. "But as always, Your Highness is welcome to anything he wishes. Anything at all."

Ayato lowered his gaze to his horse, trading his awkwardness for the more favorable mask of humility. He could sense Hinata smirking next to him; the captain got a kick out of older highborn ladies who tried to lay on the charm.

Luckily, the tension shattered at the sound of squabbling from inside the house – rapid steps accompanied by frenzied shrieks and squawks, and then Hinami's elder daughter came stumbling out the door with a grunted gasp. The younger followed suit in a flurry of pink, screaming, "Wait for me!"

"Oh, ladies," Hinami said pleasantly, smiling as they came up beside her and quickly composed themselves. "Here you are."

They curtsied – the brunette coy like her mother, the pink one breathless and shy. "Your Highness."

Hinata lingered over the girls for a second, then looked to Ayato and raised his eyebrows meaningfully. The latter deliberately ignored him – yes, yes, another highborn woman throwing her daughters at him, what made this time so special?

Granted, they were two of the prettier ones…

"Your Highness, may I present my eldest Hisako, in three hiragana characters, ひさ子, 'the long-lived child,' of the House of Fukuda?" Hinami hesitated, glancing idly in her younger daughter's direction. "And Yui."

Hisako met his eyes without shame, cool and collected. On her left, Yui ruffled a bit and fixed a light blue feather into her hair.

"You may indeed," Ayato replied. This was part of his royal duties, he supposed. It would most certainly get back to his parents if he was anything less than charming. "Ladies, forgive me, but you seem to have blossomed overnight."

While her daughter fixed him with another aloof but bewitching stare, Hinami approached his horse and sweetly stroked the creature's mane. "We are so looking forward to celebrating the engagement to your own Toban rose."

Her true question seeped through the honeyed words like bitter slime, an unhelpful reminder of his current predicament. It was quite plain to him that she was no happier than he when it came to the arrangement; she saw the unfairness in it as well, and would have him marry one of her daughters instead.

Which honestly sounded better than where he was now. At least that betrothal would come from courtship, not his parents signing him away like property.

"Yes, well, there have been… several new developments with regards to Toba," Ayato replied, while Hisako and Yui stepped forward enticingly.

Yui's intentions seemed pure enough (the girl simply looked a bit antsy and star-struck), but it was now extremely difficult to miss the tightness of Hisako's dress, and the eye-catcher of a brooch in the middle of her chest. Both no doubt meant to draw attention to her covered but noticeably large assets. Frankly he was surprised she was able to maintain such perfect posture.

He blinked, not wanting to seem ungentlemanly, and brought his focus to the jewelry piece.

"I must say, Hisako, that brooch is… stunning."

Hisako chuckled softly, grazing the gold with a finger. "This old thing?" she asked, her voice feminine yet husky, and raised half-lidded silver eyes to him with a gentle smirk. "You are too kind."

With a girlishly huffy pout, Yui took the feather out of her hair and stuffed it in her bodice, then looked at the prince expectantly. Hinata snickered into his fist and looked away. Apparently for all his professionalism the captain was utterly incapable of holding back a grin.

"These… developments, I trust, are for the best?" Hinami asked, still stroking his horse's neck.

Ayato sighed, weary at the thought. That would be up to his father for the time being, and there was no more forestalling the man's wrath after this.

"Let us hope so," he said, and nodded politely to Hisako and Yui. "Good day, ladies."

Hisako curtsied again without taking her eyes off of him as he took his leave, while Yui spiritedly waved goodbye. It baffled him on his way out, and even Hinata did a double-take; those sisters were as different as night and day.

In some stroke of good fortune, Hinata was much more eager to cackle about those girls for half the ride to the castle than resume badgering him about running away again. But Ayato personally did not care as much as Hinata did about where Yui put the feather, and was tempted to shut him up by telling him where he could stick it. Instead of pressing his luck, however, he semi-silently endured Hinata's cheerful chatter and lost himself in his thoughts.

The castle loomed too close for comfort. His royal guard would soon lead him back home, where his mother and father would be waiting most impatiently. What kind of fate would be in store for him upon his return?

After the day he'd had, he was ready to face anything.


A/N: Okay quick disclaimer, if the part about Hisako's name meaning is incorrect feel free to let me know! Because after much research, I'm stumped. The only definition I could find for Hisako was 久子 = "long-lived child," but the opening credits say her name is spelled "ひさ子" . Initially after studying the meaning of those characters I was going to tentatively put "the blazing child" but then I decided I'd rather play it safe with the popular "long-lived" meaning. If I've got it wrong, do correct me!

(Wow, if I put this much thought into Heartbreak Cure these days we'd be on chapter 45-50 by now.)

Until next time!

~Caroline