From Pauper to Prince

by DatHeetJoella

When Prince Nagisa hears that he is arranged to marry Prince Haruka of Iwatobi, he is more than a little upset. In order to take his mind off things, his tutor Rei decides to take him to the town near the palace, where they meet a poor boy with a heart of gold. Little did they know that this meeting would change their lives forever. -MakoHaru ReiGisa

4. Blooming

A/N: Thank you all for reading up until this point and leaving reviews, they really makes me happy and motivate me to write even more.

I'm currently writing chapter six as we speak so I hope I can keep the schedule of an update around the beginning of the month up. This chapter is quite long though, so proofreading took me a little more time than it usually would have (which causes for it to be officially the 2nd already where I live) but I still did my best to get it out here as soon as I could.

Same disclaimer as always, this fic is set in a fantasy universe rather than a historical one. I don't really have anything else to say here, so I hope you'll enjoy the chapter!

---

If breakfast had been good yesterday, then it was absolutely perfect this morning; the food was amazing and the company was even better. It was the second meal Makoto had at the large dining table yet unlike the first time, he now felt comfortable and completely at ease. Dinner with the king and queen present had been laced with unease and now he knew that they weren't too happy with the arrangement after all, he was glad they were gone for otherwise he could imagine them trying to spot any tiny mistake he could make so they had an excuse to blow this whole thing off. But now, he knew that he didn't have to worry about his appearances because he was alone with Haruka and even if it sounded ironic, Makoto felt like he could truly be himself when he was with him. It was incredibly easy to forget for what purpose he was even here because his mind was mostly occupied with the beautiful boy that was currently seated across from him, thoughtfully sipping his tea.

Even if he'd rather not make a fool of himself in front of Haruka, he wasn't constantly cautious or guarded like he probably should be; he knew Haruka wouldn't judge him for anything since he had proven himself to be quite the peculiar one as well, though in ways that only made Makoto more fond of him and that encouraged his curiosity and interest to get to know every last part of him, how odd they might be.

Once again, breakfast together with Haruka was vastly different from having breakfast with his family and he actually rather liked this change. He loved his siblings, he really, really did, but he was not a morning person at all and their loud and excited chattering was sometimes just a little too much for him if he had just woken up. So to have breakfast in a comfortable silence that was only occasionally disrupted by a soft murmur of a gentle voice was a very nice alternative. Even though Haruka did seem to be a lot more awake than he was, he could probably tell that Makoto was still a little drowsy and allowed him to take his time to gather himself rather than attempt to hold a deep conversation and once again, Makoto really appreciated his considerateness.

Now surrounded by tranquility like he hadn't been in quite some time, he felt peaceful and secure and even if he wouldn't trade his family for the world, he wouldn't mind getting used to mornings like these. Mornings where everything was calm and quiet, with delicious food and most importantly, with Haruka.

With every bite he took remnants of the lingering sleepiness seeped out of his pores and gave him a little more energy, though arguably not as much as the somewhat tender gaze that Haruka's eyes held when he looked over at him. The butterflies that had roamed through his belly yesterday had multiplied since then and he really needed to figure out a way to get control over them or otherwise he'd have no more room for the remainder of his breakfast.

Fortunately these feelings that were surging through him did not make him lose his appetite and he was able to eat his fill like he had almost grown accustomed to; it was like his stomach had expanded two sizes since he came here and it was most likely going to be difficult to get used to getting the bare minimum again, but that was not something he was considering at that moment. Although his mind was usually full of worries and concerns for the future, it was practically impossible to ponder about what comes after this, for one look at Haruka and everything else vanished from his thoughts, like no time existed except for the here and now.

After their meal, Haruka invited him to come with him and of course Makoto agreed, not entirely knowing what to expect but trusting Haruka enough to follow him blindly. Besides having breakfast together, they hadn't discussed what they were going to do for the day yet Haruka did seem to have a plan, just like he had yesterday. It made Makoto curious as to where Haruka would take him and what they would do, but for some reason, he couldn't find the words to ask him about it, like he unconsciously wanted to be surprised by Haruka.

As they strolled through the hallways of the palace that were slowly becoming familiar to Makoto, he was briefly worried that Haruka would take him to the library he had mentioned yesterday. But that fear was gone as soon as it had came when they came to a halt at the same door they had last night. Haruka's bedroom.

Thoughts were rapidly coursing through his head because he had no idea what they were doing here. As far as he had understood, bedrooms were supposed to be private, at least for the royal and noble and one was not lightly invited inside, save for the staff then. Did Haruka simply need to grab something from his room or was he actually allowed to tread into Haruka's personal space?

When Haruka opened the door and gestured for him to go inside, he was even more confused. There was only one thing he could imagine one would usually do in a bedroom and surely Haruka didn't plan on doing that, right?

Despite the uncertainty of what awaited him inside, he entered the room anyway. His inner turmoil continued and while his mind was full of thoughts of regardless how much he liked Haruka, he had never done anything like that before and he was sure he wasn't ready for something like that yet, Haruka closed the door behind them and walked up to him.

His small hand touched Makoto's arm and without missing a beat Haruka asked, "Are you alright?"

Upon feeling his touch and hearing the confusion combined with concern lacing his voice, the thoughts disappeared as he realised how stupid they had been. Of course Haruka wasn't planning on doing that, he hadn't said or done anything to indicate that he was and Makoto's mind was just getting ahead of itself. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Alright," Haruka repeated as he walked further into his bedroom and Makoto's eyes followed his form and fell on the easel that was in the corner of the room, right next to the glass doors that led to the balcony and everything made sense to Makoto then. Haruka was going to show him his artwork like he had promised he would yesterday. For some reason, that hadn't crossed Makoto's mind at all despite not having forgotten about it, he just hadn't expected Haruka to show him so soon. After all, he could imagine it being something very personal and not something he'd just want to share with the world, so the fact that Haruka was confident enough to show him really meant a lot to Makoto.

But when he got closer to the easel he saw that the canvas that was perched on it was blank.

"Please take a seat," Haruka requested and he gestured to the red, velvety fauteuil that was standing about two meters from the easel.

Makoto did as he had been told and Haruka's intentions suddenly seemed as clear as water, yet that couldn't be it, could it? It couldn't hurt to ask, though. "Are you… are you going to paint me?"

At that Haruka nodded. "If that's alright with you…?"

"Well yes, but, I mean…" he stammered, feeling shyly honoured at the fact that Haruka would consider painting him, "If it's not too much effort."

"It's not," Haruka assured with a small smile, "I like to paint and I... I want to paint you. So, can I?"

Haruka's bashful words made Makoto's skin tingle and he blushed brightly. "Of course, Haru. I'm truly honoured that you would want to paint me."

"I'm not a professional, though, so don't expect it to be as good as other portraits that were made of you," Haruka quickly excused as he averted his eyes, completely unaware of the fact that Makoto had never actually been painted before. The soft pink that dusted his cheeks was slowly but surely becoming Makoto's second favourite colour: placing only after the beautiful blue of his breathtaking eyes. But before Makoto had the chance to mutter an assurance to Haruka's timid words and expression, he continued to speak as he faced him again. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?" Haruka questioned at the way Makoto was currently sitting, putting on a smock to protect his clothing from the paint, "You're going to have to sit still for quite some time, at least a couple of hours. Are you sure you'll be able to keep that position for that long?"

Makoto hadn't actually considered that aspect of being painted despite it being incredibly obvious and he leaned back against the back of the chair, settling himself in it as he placed his feet flat on the floor and put his arms on the armrests.

"That's better," Haruka said with a small chuckle and he went over to his easel and grabbed his palette, "Ready?"

"Whenever you are," Makoto confirmed and when Haruka nodded and began to mix his paints, he tried to keep his face straight and to breathe as lightly as possible.

Haruka turned his head back to look at Makoto and he snorted at the stiff and unnatural way Makoto held his body in an attempt to keep himself as still as he could. "You can just breathe, you know? And talk. And even scratch or stretch yourself. As long as you return to the same position and don't move around too much, you're fine. So relax."

"Alright," Makoto chuckled breathily and he released the tension in his body, sinking further into the fauteuil. He had wanted to keep as still as possible to make everything easier for Haruka but on second thought, he probably wouldn't be able to keep sitting that way for very long. Especially considering the aching state his muscles were in after yesterday. Even if he hadn't swum very intensively, it had been his first time and he had used his muscles for hours in a way he never had before, so it was no surprise that he was a little sore in places - though it was absolutely nothing he couldn't handle. That was also one of the reasons why he was quite pleased with Haruka wanting to paint him; besides obviously being elated that Haruka wanted to spend an extensive period of time staring at him and capturing his image on canvas with his artistic skills, he was also really glad that rather than doing something that required a lot of physical exertion, for once he could simply sit and relax.

Another aspect that was enjoyable about Haruka painting him was that Makoto could watch him work; the neutral yet focused look that was on his face as his eyes drifted between Makoto and the canvas in front of him and the way his arm moved as he applied stroke after stroke with his brush, like the tool was an extension of himself, everything about it was simply gorgeous and like everything else Haruka did, it was filled with a regal kind of grace - his mind filled in the blanks of the parts of Haruka that were concealed by the easel because the parts that he could see were enough for him to paint the whole picture in his head. He partially had to agree with King and Queen Nanase: Haruka's extraordinary beauty was something that deserved to be eternalised so he could be admired forevermore, but he highly doubted that there was an artist out there who was skilled enough to make a painting of Haruka that would do him justice. And he also had to disagree with them, because he could never disapprove of something that Haruka enjoyed doing, especially not if he looked so serene and content while doing it.

Even though he could stare at Haruka for the rest of eternity and die happy, Makoto couldn't help the urge of wanting to let his eyes wander through Haruka's chamber. He didn't intend to be creepy or weird about it, but he was just incredibly curious about everything concerning Haruka and he was interested in getting to know him fully and his room was a part of him; he slept here and apparently painted here so he definitely spent a good portion of his day here, so it wasn't odd that Makoto was curious, was it? The chances of getting an opportunity like this again in the future were very small so he had to seize it while he could, he thought.

So he allowed himself to look around for as much as he could without turning his head too much; he wouldn't want to inconvenience Haruka after all.

Right next to the chair Makoto was currently seated in stood a large canopy bed with the headboard against the wall, the long, blue-grey curtains drawn back to the posters to reveal the neatly made sheets that were rather simple: white with light blue stripes, and a couple of white pillows rested at the head. At the other side of the room he could see a bunch of doors that were presumably closets and a desk with a chair and some books stood atop of it, but other than that it was very neat just like the bed was. Then there was another door that most likely led to his bathroom, and though it was closed and therefore he couldn't see, Makoto imagined him having a bathtub that was as big as the one in his guest room, if not even bigger than that, considering his love for the water. The last thing he was able to see was the little corner with his easel and the table that held all of his supplies; although Haruka hadn't told him, somehow Makoto knew that that wasn't his usual spot but rather that he moved it around to wherever he pleased at a certain time. For now, he had settled a chair right next to the glass doors so the light would illuminate Makoto's body yet the sun wouldn't bother him for he was standing next to the wall himself. How Makoto knew this wasn't clear to him because he had the artistic knowledge of a mackerel yet somehow he felt like he just understood Haruka, however pretentious that may sound.

The entire room was clean and tidy, and even though Makoto knew that Haruka had maids cleaning it for him, for some reason he felt like Haruka would keep it tidy and clean even without the maids doing it for him. That was the impression got from him yesterday, when he had said that they should clean up their own mess. Next to that he just seemed like a very tidy person, though the current state of his work station would suggest otherwise, but that didn't count because he was still using it and Makoto was confident that once he was done, his paints and brushes would be returned to their rightful place and any mess that was left behind would be cleaned up.

There wasn't much more of his room visible from Makoto's viewpoint, but Haruka didn't exactly strike him as a very materialistic person so he didn't think there was much more furniture besides the necessities. Feeling content after studying the chamber for a little while, Makoto's attention naturally drifted back to Haruka.

"Have you been painting for long?" Makoto wondered, breaking the comfortable silence that hung in the air between them.

"Hm," Haruka hummed softly in confirmation and he looked so concentrated on what he was doing that Makoto thought that was the only response he was going to get and that he shouldn't ask him more in fear of disturbing him, but then Haruka elaborated, "Since I was a child. My parents condoned it back then since they saw it as a child's thing to do. But as I got older and continued to request the supplies, they tried to deny me of them, but my grandmother told them that they should just leave me be and comply with my demands since they weren't outrageous. Fortunately they felt like they had to listen to her, being the former queen and all."

"That was very kind of her," Makoto commented, feeling like the lady in question was really important to Haruka.

"She was very kind," Haruka said and the look on his face told him that he missed her a lot and it made Makoto wish that he could have met her.

"Have you ever painted her?" he asked, curious to see what she looked like and even if other artists had definitely made portraits of her since she used to be the queen, Makoto dearly wanted to see her in paintings made by Haruka, like he was looking through his eyes and see her with the warmth she always emitted to him.

"A few times. But that was back when she was still alive and even though she always praised me, those paintings weren't really good. I mainly paint sceneries; oceans and beaches, gardens, fields of flowers and forests, stuff like that, so people are not exactly within my realm of expertise, and they certainly weren't back then."

"I'm surprised you wanted to paint me, then," Makoto muttered, feeling even more honoured than he had before.

At that Haruka shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant with the gesture. "I suppose I felt inspired to make a portrait for the first time in a while." Those were the words that he spoke, but Makoto could catch a deeper meaning behind them, like there were more words hidden beneath them that he was too embarrassed to utter aloud.

I want to capture you because you inspire me.

Even if he most definitely had not heard those words, he could feel them burning inside of him, like they were permanently etching themselves in the walls of Makoto's heart, to be felt forevermore. Intense warmth blossomed in his stomach and ignited a fire that sent sparks throughout his entire body. Once more he felt like he was getting ahead of himself but he couldn't help the warmth that accompanied the thought that he could possibly be special to Haruka; although Haruka hadn't told him specifically, Makoto got the impression that the last portrait he completed was one of his late grandmother and she meant a lot to him, so the fact that he was making a painting of him now could mean that Makoto could be meaningful to him too. In a different way than his grandmother, of course, but meaningful nonetheless and once that thought entered his mind, the desire for it to be true gushed through his veins and tightly grasped his heart, knocking the wind out of him. At that moment there was nothing he wanted more dearly than to be special to Haruka.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking that had replaced his common sense, but when he looked back at Haruka and saw that pink blush adorning his face again, it didn't seem as far-fetched or unachievable as he expected.

He was most definitely getting ahead of himself.

Hours passed as Haruka worked and Makoto just sat in the chair, pleasantly conversing the majority of the time; if it weren't for that Makoto could have easily fallen asleep, though the excitement that was still tingling in him would probably have kept him awake as well. The conversation held depth yet somehow it felt like it was just small-talk. Even though Haruka didn't really seem like someone who would just lay himself bare to everyone he met, he told Makoto surprisingly much and that could only mean that he trusted him enough to share so much of himself with Makoto; they talked about his grandmother, his parents, his childhood of growing up as the crown prince.

In return he asked Makoto questions too and though that was not exactly the most convenient thing for him, he did truly appreciate the genuine interest Haruka had in him. Having to lie so much made him feel incredibly bad so he did his best to tell as much of the truth without accidentally exposing himself and otherwise he relayed what Nagisa had told him as if they were his own experiences. This was another reminder that things were simply not going to happen the way it seemed right now and that made Makoto sad, for he deep down wished this was actually real. But if he really was himself, then he never would have met Haruka in the first place and that would have been a great loss, so he just had to accept the price he had to pay for this opportunity. Even if not being able to be truthful and honest like he was always taught hurt immensely, he did his best to forget about the harshness of reality and the consequences that he was going to have to face in the end. This time with Haruka really was a once in a lifetime experience so he couldn't allow himself to ruin this precious chance by thinking too much. For now, he had to treasure every second he could be by Haruka's side and he wouldn't let any of them go to waste by his own emotions.

At last Haruka put his palette and brush down, pulling the smock over his head.

"Are you done?" Makoto asked in bewilderment; the hours seemed to have passed much faster than they actually had and even though Makoto knew that it was well into the afternoon already, he hadn't thought that Haruka would be able to finish it up so quickly.

"Not completely, but most of it. I think it's almost time for lunch so I'll finish the rest of it later," Haruka explained, "I mainly focused on you so you won't have to sit around after this."

A grateful smile appeared on Makoto's face at Haruka's considerateness, though he had to admit that he wouldn't mind sitting here for a little longer - or a lot longer -, not when he got to spend time with Haruka. "Can I see it?"

"Of course, that was kind of the whole point, was it not?" Haruka said with a chuckle.

"Yeah," Makoto affirmed and he got up and stretched his back. Although he liked that he was able to sit down for a couple of hours, he had become quite stiff and his joints cracked softly, and he rolled his shoulders in the constricting fabric of the suit he was wearing. "But perhaps you wanted to wait until it's done and show me then."

"No, it's alright. You can see it now," Haruka mumbled and Makoto could tell that he appreciated Makoto's respect for his privacy and possible boundaries.

"Alright," Makoto echoed and he walked over to Haruka. When he laid his eyes upon the canvas that rested on the easel, his jaw dropped.

The painting was absolutely gorgeous. Makoto knew what he looked like, he had seen his own image in the mirror countless of times, but he didn't look like this; his brown locks almost looked golden with the way the light caught them, his features seemed sharp yet somehow soft at the same time, and his eyes were so green that they practically popped off the canvas. The boy on the canvas was incredibly handsome but he didn't look like him, because he was not this beautiful, he was not this confident, and he was certainly not this regal.

"It's beautiful," he couldn't help but gasp, because it truly was. It was realistic and detailed, like he had paid attention to even the tiniest of things. If Haruka claimed that people weren't within his realm of expertise, then Makoto couldn't even begin to imagine what his sceneries must look like for this was truly the most beautiful piece of art he had ever seen. He wanted to say more to express his admiration but he was utterly speechless. If this was the painting Haruka had made with him as the model, then that could mean that this was how Haruka saw him and that thought made his skin prickle with excitement and elation.

"Thank you," Haruka murmured, averting his eyes from Makoto's face to look back at the painting, "It's not very accurate though."

"It's not," Makoto agreed, "I am not this beautiful."

At the same time, Haruka stated, "It does not properly capture your exceptional beauty."

When they realised what the other had said - and, in Haruka's case, what he had said himself - bright blushes lit up their faces as they both looked away. An indescribable feeling overwhelmed Makoto, making his heart beat so much faster than it did before. The fact that Haruka considered him to be this beautiful made him unbelievably happy, and to think that he wasn't satisfied with this marvelous piece of art he had created simply because he thought it did not accurately portray his appearance for he found it to be even more beautiful made every cell in his brain stop functioning. He did not know what took his breath away more: this exquisite painting or Haruka's words.

Not knowing how to respond to those words, Makoto awkwardly cleared his throat and made an attempt to change the topic. "I thought you said it wasn't finished?"

"It isn't," Haruka said in confirmation, visibly relieved by Makoto's diversion. When he read the confusion in Makoto's eyes, he elaborated, "It needs some more refinements and detailing, especially the background."

"Oh," Makoto muttered, trying to see what Haruka meant but failing to do so; he didn't see what could be added to improve this painting for it already seemed beyond perfect to him, but then again, he had zero artistic knowledge so he trusted Haruka's vision on it far more than his own.

"I need to add some more shades and lights to create more depth, and some other things," Haruka clarified with a small smile, "Once it's done, you'll be able to tell the difference."

Haruka had said it with so much certainty that Makoto couldn't help but believe him, so he smiled back at him before he turned to look at the painting again, wanting to memorise every line and stroke so he would actually be able to see the difference once Haruka finished it.

Now that the initial surprise at Haruka's talent had dwindled, he wanted to comment on the painting some more. But before he got the chance to speak up, there were three soft knocks on the door.

"Told you so," Haruka mumbled under his breath before he called out, "Come in."

Makoto hadn't known what Haruka meant with his teasing remark, but then the door swung open to reveal a servant.

"Your Highness," he addressed them politely with a small bow, "Lunch is being served."

"Alright," Haruka replied, "We'll be down in a minute. Thank you."

With another bow the servant took his leave again, closing the door behind him. The quick exchange of words cleared up what Haruka had been referring to. "You were right," Makoto affirmed with a small chuckle.

"I always am," Haruka nodded, snorting lightly. "I need to clean this up a little, so you can go downstairs to have lunch first."

"I'll help."

"No, it's alright," he declined, "Your food will get cold. I'll join you as soon as I'm done."

"Your food will get cold too," Makoto argued, "And if I help you it'll be done sooner and perhaps our food will be lukewarm when we get there. Just tell me what I need to do and where I need to put everything."

Haruka eyed him challengingly. "You're rather stubborn."

"I could say the same about you," Makoto countered, not backing down from this challenge.

Hints of a smirk were beginning to form on Haruka's face and he quickly turned his back to Makoto, letting out a deep sigh in feigned exasperation. "Here," he said when he turned back, handing Makoto a couple of paint brushes, "You can rinse these brushes off, but be gentle on the bristles. The bathroom's over there."

A grin stretched Makoto's lips at Haruka's surrender. "Gentle on the bristles, got it!" he chuckled as he accepted the brushes and walked over to the door Haruka had nodded at - which confirmed his earlier speculations.

And like he had expected, his bathtub was massive.

---

Once all of Haruka's supplies were cleaned and cleared away, they left Haruka's room to go back to the dining room they had come from earlier that day.

"So," Haruka started when they were walking through the large palace corridors, "Since I showed you my hobby, will you show me yours later?"

Makoto chuckled, "I suppose that's only fair." After all that Haruka had done for him, singing him a song or two was really the least he could do to pay him back.

Haruka smiled tenderly at the words he spoke, probably recalling him saying something similar when they discussed it yesterday. "I'll be looking forward to that, then."

"I'm not a professional though, so don't expect me to be as good as other singers you've heard," Makoto teased, but he did really mean it. Though it could also raise the bar for himself since Haruka's painting skills had definitely been able to match up to - and even exceed - that of professionals, so that could mean that the same was to be expected of him.

"Oh shut up," Haruka grumbled, averting his head from Makoto. The way he bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling made Makoto giggle, which in turn made Haruka snort lightly as well. "I'll judge that for myself."

"I'm just warning you, keep your expectations low. You don't want to be disappointed," Makoto joked, but again, he did sort of mean it.

"It could never disappoint me," Haruka said softly before he raised his voice and faced Makoto again with a small smile, "But alright. I'll expect absolutely nothing so I can only be pleasantly surprised."

Those genuine words brought an enamored smile to Makoto's face as well and the nerves he had about it before returned. They would have made him jittery but Haruka's presence was comforting and grounded him, preventing him from getting too anxious about it. There was still a small part of him that was a bit hesitant; even if Haruka had said that he couldn't be disappointed, Makoto still worried that he would do just that. But those worries were for later, so it was no use to get worked up over it already.

When they got to the dining room the table was already set and once they sat down the staff immediately began to serve their food, which meant that they had been waiting for them and that made Makoto feel bad. Then again, if he hadn't helped Haruka then it would have taken even longer.

"Thank you," Makoto said when a servant put down his plate in front of him. The servant nodded in acknowledgement of his words before she left again.

"Thanks," Haruka muttered to the man who served him, but before he could stalk off, he continued, "Could you prepare the ballroom and gather some of the staff members who play an instrument and ask them to go there in about an hour and a half?"

"Certainly, Your Highness," the servant nodded solemnly, "Anything else?"

"No, that's it. Thank you."

"Alright. Please enjoy your meal." With that, the man took his leave.

"The staff can play instruments too?" Makoto wondered, actually surprised at the thought of that. Like Nagisa had told him when they first met, Makoto had always been under the impression that only the wealthy and noble had access to instruments, with the exception of orchestras then.

"Some can. My parents think that it's valuable to have multifaceted staff so many servants who are born and raised in the palace are taught to play an instrument," Haruka explained, "We do hire an orchestra for balls and banquets since there are not nearly enough staff members who actually play an instrument, and next to that they have different things to do during formal gatherings like that. So them being taught to play instruments is mainly for private entertainment purposes."

"I see."

"It's not obligatory though, those who learn to play do so of their own interest," he added, most likely wanting him to know that they didn't force their staff to do anything, but that they were treated well. "But most people want to, especially since they're free to choose what instrument they would like to play."

"I can imagine," Makoto said honestly. He had already gathered that everyone who worked and lived here was treated well, both from the things Haruka told him and the general way the staff regarded the royal family; so far he hadn't seen anything but genuine respect from every servant he encountered and that said a lot, he thought. "I don't think many people would refuse when presented with the opportunity."

"Some do, and some others stop while they're learning it because they find it too hard or simply don't enjoy it. It's all fine, it's their own choice after all."

"That's very kind of you, Haru," he thought, knowing that this tradition has probably been in his family for decades already and that Haruka was just raised with it, but finding it to be fitting of his free-spirited mindset all the same.

At that Haruka's cheeks turned a shade darker. "We should eat. The food really is cold now," he mumbled, a bit of bashfulness evident in his voice and he averted his beautiful eyes once more, staring pointedly at his plate.

"You're right," Makoto agreed, deciding to spare him from any more embarrassment, even if the sight of that blush on his face was incredibly endearing.

Despite being a little flustered, Haruka couldn't help but say, "I always am," again.

And again, Makoto couldn't repress his laughter at that statement.

---

After they had eaten their fill, Haruka led him to the ballroom. It was near the throne room and when Haruka opened the doors, Makoto was still a bit astonished by the size of it; it was incredibly large, much larger than the town's square he was used to performing at and he could only imagine how his voice would echo if he sang here, not only because was it larger than the town's square, but also because it was empty, which the square never was. Sunlight shone through the massive windows that made up the entirety of the outside wall, the only exception being the double doors that lead out to the balcony, bathing the marble floor in a soft yellow glow. On the left side of the room there was a podium that was assumably for the orchestra, if the chairs and music stands that some of the servants were setting up was anything to go by, right next to a black grand piano. A couple of other servants were bringing in instruments: from cellos to oboes and many other string and wind instruments, they seemingly had it all here in the palace - not that that surprised him, not at all. From the sight of the room, it was obvious that it was intended for balls and masquerades and the likes of that. Though that was not much of a surprise either, for the kingdom of Iwatobi was large and wealthy, much more so than its neighbouring kingdoms like Sano, and Makoto supposed it was only natural for them to frequently organise formal gatherings.

Despite knowing that it was not an instrument that belonged in an orchestra, Makoto still searched for a guitar among the masses of clarinets and trombones, but ultimately couldn't find one.

"Um, do you happen to have a guitar too?" Makoto couldn't help but hesitantly ask, "I know it's not used in orchestral music but I'm used to accompanying myself so…"

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think we must have one around here somewhere," Haruka muttered, seemingly in deep thought before he called out, "Sir Minami?"

A fairly young man walked up to them. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Do you know if we have a guitar?"

Sir Minami was quiet for a second and looked at the ceiling as he pondered, before looking back at them. "I believe we do."

"Can you go look for it and bring it here if you find it?"

"Of course, Your Highness."

"Thanks," Haruka said and the man nodded at them before he left the room. "Oh, but will you be able to play?" he suddenly asked, his voice full of concern. When Makoto looked at him in confusion, he explained, "With your finger."

Then Makoto understood what he meant; he was referring to the finger he cut yesterday. "Yeah, it's fine," he assured and he held up his finger to show him. He had already taken the bandage off before he went to bed last night and while the gash was still prominent, he was letting it breathe so it could heal better. "The cut's not as deep as it seemed yesterday."

"Alright, that's good," Haruka murmured, sounding genuinely relieved and Makoto truly appreciated his sincere worry for him.

"Thank you, Haru."

"It's nothing," Haruka brushed off again as he looked away, blushing slightly and the endearing sight only made Makoto smile more.

Soon enough the servants were done setting up the equipment and Haruka and Makoto thanked them for their work before they took their leaves as well, leaving the two of them behind in the large, mostly empty ballroom.

This was supposed to be the moment Makoto showed Haruka what he liked to do in his spare time, but since they were still waiting for the guitar that may or may not be somewhere around the palace, Makoto also wished to hear some of Haruka's musical talent. He might be pushing his luck, but he couldn't help but ask.

"You mentioned you play piano and violin, right?" Makoto started with a somewhat sheepish smile.

"Hm," Haruka affirmed.

"Would you mind playing something for me while we wait for the guitar?"

"Any requests?" he asked as he climbed the steps of the podium, walking past the piano.

Unconsciously Makoto followed him up as he thought about his answer. "Something you like to play," he decided, because he was interested in knowing every last part of Haruka, even down to what pieces he liked to play.

"Alright," Haruka murmured, his beautiful eyes telling Makoto that he already knew exactly what he was going to play. He walked past a violin to grab another one, the action bringing an amused smile to Makoto's face for it seemed like something that was very befitting of Haruka.

With a gesture of his hand Haruka invited Makoto to sit down in one of the chairs and he did, looking up at Haruka in anticipation. Gracefully he lifted the violin to his chin and he raised the bow to the strings, beginning to play.

The sound of music filled the air, the tune lighting a flame of recognition inside of Makoto and capturing him, making him unable to look away from Haruka. From the way his delicate fingers moved at the violin's neck, to the deftly movements of his arm and the concentrated yet stoic expression that was written across his face, everything about Haruka was simply enchanting. Like the music he was making had caught Makoto in a spell that was too beautiful and powerful to be broken by a mere human like himself. But he didn't want to break it; he didn't mind being entranced by Haruka's beauty and talent. On the contrary, he would have loved to stay captivated by Haruka for the rest of his life and he would die happily. With simply his breathtaking presence and a stroke of his bow across the violin's strings, Haruka managed to control him and Makoto couldn't do anything but watch and listen in awe, completely at his mercy.

When the last notes died out, Makoto was taken back to earth. He applauded softly in appreciation and admiration. "That was beautiful, Haru," he complimented, genuinely impressed with Haruka's abilities. It seemed like Haruka was simply perfect at everything he tried his hand at, be it swimming, cooking, painting, and apparently playing violin too. Admittedly, Makoto was not the hardest person to impress and the feelings that had crept up to his heart and dominated his thoughts might have influenced him and make his opinion not without bias. But what did that matter when the man standing in front of him was beautiful in every sense of the word?

"Thank you," Haruka murmured with a small nod of gratitude before he set the violin back down in its stand.

"I don't have as much knowledge of music as I probably should have," Makoto confessed, "but that sounded really familiar."

"Danse Macabre," Haruka revealed with a small smile, "It's not the same as the fully orchestrated version but the first violin is distinct enough for immediate recognition."

The sight of the corners of those alluring lips curling upwards made Makoto's own mouth smile as well. "Like I said, I don't really have any knowledge of music, but that piece sounds really difficult. I'm surprised you could do it without the sheet music."

Haruka merely shrugged, as if to say that it wasn't that hard at all. "It's my favourite piece," he said, explaining how he knew it by heart. "It's what made me decide to learn how to play violin."

"Really?" Makoto questioned, his tone indicating that he was interested in hearing the rest of this story.

"Hm," Haruka hummed, leaning against the piano, "After I was taught to play piano, my parents wanted me to learn to play a second instrument. I didn't know which one to pick since I wasn't particularly interested in learning any of them anyway. But then my grandmother took me to an orchestral performance and to be quite honest, I was bored. The music was nice, but it didn't interest me at all, because every piece just sounded the same to me. Of course, my grandmother noticed my disinterest and she began to tell me about the pieces, about their origin and composers and what she liked and disliked about them. And then they played Danse Macabre and it was the first piece to intrigue me, because it sounded different from all others. Grandmother explained what the piece was about and while I listened to it, I could visualise the scene in my head. When she told me that it was one of her favourite pieces, mainly because of the way the violin was used, I knew what I wanted to play."

The smile that had been on Makoto's face softened with fondness. "You learned to play it so you could play the violin parts of Danse Macabre for her?"

Haruka nodded before the small smile that stretched his lips turned melancholic, presumably in memory of his late grandmother. "Pretty ironic, huh?"

"Not at all," Makoto said earnestly, "I think it's very sweet." When Haruka raised his thin eyebrows in a look of surprise, Makoto continued, "Thank you for playing it for me."

Those sincere words brought a rosy flush to Haruka's cheeks, complimenting the beautiful blue of his eyes. Seeing him all flustered was so cute and it made Makoto's heart thump faster. No matter how often he saw Haruka, he doubted he would ever tire of the sight of him, whether he maintained his stoic demeanour or if it was broken by an unusual rush of emotion, for every part of him was just as gorgeous as the next.

It was ridiculous how easily his thoughts were able to drift off lately and he really needed to get a grip before he said or did something he'd regret later.

The charged atmosphere that had lingered was broken by a few sharp knocks on the door before it was swung open, revealing Sir Minami standing at the threshold. In his hand he held up a guitar. "Your Highness," he called, "Found it!"

Knowing that this was his cue, Makoto got up from the chair and descended the steps of the podium, jogging lightly over to the door. "Thank you," he said as he accepted the guitar, "I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"Of course it wasn't, Your Highness," Sir Minami assured, "I hope this one's alright…?"

"It is! Thank you."

In acknowledgement to Makoto's gratitude, Sir Minami nodded with a kind smile. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No," Makoto uttered before he looked back at Haruka, who had seated himself in the chair that Makoto previously occupied in the meanwhile. "Haru?"

"No, everything is fine," Haruka stated, his smooth voice ringing through the large room.

"Do you wish to continue with the activities as planned?"

"Yes."

"Alright. The others will be here in approximately 40 minutes," Sir Minami informed and Haruka nodded in confirmation. "Then, please excuse me."

"Thank you," Haruka muttered before Sir Minami left the room, closing the door behind himself.

With the guitar in hand and a gentle smile on his face, Makoto walked back over to Haruka. "I suppose it's my turn now."

"I suppose it is," Haruka said, the amusement in his voice betraying his anticipation.

Makoto chuckled lightly as he came to a halt on the podium, experimentally running his fingers over the guitar's strings to test what they sounded like. Displeased by what he heard, he mumbled under his breath, "Wait, let me just…" and he sat down in the chair next to Haruka's, focusing his attention on the pegs. It was obvious that it hadn't been used for quite some time. When he realised that he hadn't finished his sentence, he looked up and smiled sheepishly at Haruka. "Sorry, I have to tune it first."

"It's alright, take your time," Haruka spoke softly, patiently.

"Thanks," Makoto responded, grateful of Haruka's understanding. He twisted the tuning pegs and plucked at the strings until he was content with what he heard. It was obviously not his own guitar and he wasn't quite sure if every guitar was the same since he had never played a different one before, but he would have to make do with this one because it was all he had. He wanted to sing for Haruka and he wasn't about to do it a capella after all the trouble Sir Minami went through to find him this guitar. It may not sound exactly the same as he was used to, but surely Haruka would understand that since he clearly had a preference when it came to the violins this palace possessed. "Alright," he sighed when he was done and he got up.

"Whenever you're ready."

Makoto doubted if his audience had ever been this small before, but that didn't stop the nerves from coiling inside his stomach and making his palms sweaty around the neck and body of the guitar. After all, he had never wanted to impress a single person as dearly as he did now. In order to calm himself, he took a deep breath. Haruka had shown him so many of his talents already so it was only fair that he showed him what he could do as well. There was no reason to be nervous, because this was Haruka, and even if Haruka's overall perfection and magnificence was impossible to match up to and equate, he felt comfortable with him like he did with no other. He could do this.

Like Haruka, Makoto didn't have to think about which song he was going to play and sing either. So he took another deep breath, put the strap around his neck and began.

In a way, this was the song that started it all; the song that had led Nagisa over to the town's square, that caused for the collision of two completely separate worlds. The memory of the day he met Nagisa and Rei felt like real centuries ago, even if it hadn't even been two weeks since then. If he hadn't been singing and playing this song at that exact time on that one fateful day, he doubted he would even be here, standing in front of the Prince of Iwatobi who was coincidentally the most beautiful and interesting individual he had ever seen and met.

For a brief moment there were speculations of Nagisa's current whereabouts, but they soon vanished again when he looked over at Haruka and saw his large blue eyes filled with wonder and his tiny mouth opened slightly in what Makoto's heart dearly wished to interpret as amazement. Much like he himself had been before, Haruka appeared to be entranced by the music that he strummed out of the guitar but mainly by his voice, that resonated through the massive room. The thought that there was a chance that he could captivate Haruka with his singing sent a shiver down his spine and brought a surge of warmth to his chest. Makoto knew that he could sing well; he wouldn't put himself out there on the street if he couldn't and he wouldn't have earned what he had otherwise. But that didn't mean that Haruka had to like it, per se. People had different tastes after all and especially someone like Haruka who had probably heard all that musicians had to offer surely wouldn't be impressed by a silly little street musician like himself. That was what he had braced himself for, but if he had truly learned to read the expressions that were written across Haruka's face, then none of those earlier predictions were true. It might be wishful thinking on Makoto's part again, but Haruka truly seemed impressed. And perhaps some of that might be not because of the way his voice sounded, but because it was his voice.

While all these thoughts and feelings coursed through his mind and body, Makoto continued to sing. He had sung this song so often that he didn't even need to think about the lyrics; they came flowing out of him with practiced ease, his vocal cords vibrating with muscle memory. With an enamored smile breaking through, Makoto finished the song and strummed out the last couple of notes, that echoed through the room before it became quiet again.

This would usually be the moment loud applause sounded out and, depending on the crowd, some cheers while some coins were thrown in his cup. He would bow in appreciation and mutter an expression of gratitude to those who could spare a few coins and enjoyed his performance enough to reward them to him. But that didn't happen now, it stayed silent save for one tiny gasp: the sound of a small yet sharp intake of breath that had slipped from Haruka's mouth without his awareness or permission. It was honestly the greatest compliment he had ever received.

Makoto could see Haruka's inner turmoil as he was unable to find the words he needed to react.

"That was… beautiful," he sighed in lack of better words to express himself. "I've never heard that song before."

At that Makoto's smile widened, not surprised in the slightest. "It's a song of my people," he explained, hoping that Haruka thought he meant 'the people of my realm' rather than 'the folk like me'. "My mother taught it to me when I was younger."

"Did she teach you how to play guitar too?"

"No, I taught myself," Makoto said truthfully before he realised that that didn't sound very believable so he added, "I mean, I got lessons but I mostly learned on my own."

Haruka nodded as if he understood as he got up and walked over to the piano and sat down on the seat. "How did it go?" he wondered as he laid his fingers on the keys, played a couple of notes that sounded similar to the melody of the song and sang a few words of the chorus.

It really should have been a given, but that beautiful voice could sing well too. Even if it had only been a light breath, a small whisper of words, it made Makoto's heart beat out of his chest, the butterflies that had taken residence inside of his belly fluttering around like crazy, as if every moment spent with Haruka was driving them further into insanity. With every new thing he discovered about Haruka, his list of things he admired about him grew and Makoto was absolutely certain that there were no negative facets to Haruka and that he was simply the epitome of perfection.

"That's it!" Makoto exclaimed enthusiastically and he put the guitar down on a chair so he could go over to Haruka and watch him play and hopefully to hear him sing some more too. "I'm surprised you were able to get that without the sheet music and from the sound of it alone!"

"It's nothing," Haruka brushed off with a shrug, "I don't like sheet music anyway." When Makoto looked at him with a questioning gaze, he elaborated, "I can read it, I just prefer to play without it. To play what feels right rather than let it be dictated by instructions."

The smile that permanently etched itself onto Makoto's face when he was blessed with Haruka's presence softened with fondness. "That's very like you, Haru," he said gently, his voice coated with undiluted affection. He could only imagine the exasperation of his piano teachers at his free-spirited mindset, but Makoto thought that it was truly adorable. "You're so amazing, Haru. I would never be able to do something like that."

"Of course you can," Haruka stated and he scooted over to one side of the seat, gesturing for Makoto to sit down beside him, so he did.

The seat was definitely not made to accommodate two people so their thighs pressed together intimately. It brought warmth to Makoto's cheeks and he turned his head to look at Haruka's face, that was incredibly close. His eyelashes were thick and long, fanning against his cheekbones whenever he blinked and his eyes were so impossibly blue that Makoto felt like he was drowning again. But then Makoto's gaze fell onto those pink lips that were slightly parted. Never before had they looked this inviting and unconsciously Makoto leaned in.

He snapped out of it when Haruka turned his head away and embarrassment filled Makoto's senses, but Haruka's mind was elsewhere and he seemingly hadn't even noticed Makoto's drifting attention. A tender smile stretched his lips as he splayed out his fingers of his left hand over the keys, and with his right hand he grabbed Makoto's left hand as well, placing it on top of his own, giving Makoto's blazing cheeks not even a second to cool down. Then Haruka put his right hand on the keys as well and the look that he gave Makoto told him that he should do the same as with the other hand.

Having forgotten what they had previously been doing for his mind was mainly occupied with wonders of what Haruka's lips tasted like and how they would feel against his own, Makoto did what Haruka silently asked of him but did so with confusion. Even if he didn't know what exactly it was that Haruka planned on doing, Makoto didn't mind this, not at all; any excuse to touch Haruka's hands was a good one and his skin was so incredibly soft that it made him want to grasp them to hold on to them forever. But that was probably not what Haruka intended to do, no matter how dearly Makoto wanted that to be it.

His questions were answered when Haruka began to play again and Makoto could feel his agile fingers under his, his muscles moving beneath his skin, completely covered by Makoto's larger ones.

"See, you can play too," Haruka said with a smile and Makoto chuckled, remembering what they were talking about and what Haruka was therefore doing. Since the size difference of their hands was quite significant, it was easy to create the illusion that Makoto was playing, though it did look a bit odd. "Even without the sheet music."

"But this is kind of cheating, isn't it?" Makoto giggled.

Haruka merely shrugged, "It works the other way around too, if you find that more acceptable." Like he had said, he pulled his hands out from under Makoto's to turn their positions around, so now Haruka's hands were lying atop of his. Haruka's hands were smaller and didn't completely cover his and there was a clear contrast in their complexions, but Haruka didn't seem to mind either of those things as he lightly pressed against Makoto's fingers with his, making them push down onto the piano's keys. "Now you're the one who's pressing the keys, so technically, you're the one who's playing."

"Now I'm just being controlled by you like a marionette," Makoto objected, though he definitely didn't mind it. "Are you my puppeteer now?" he jokingly asked.

In response Haruka shrugged again. "I can be if you want me to."

At that Makoto couldn't hold in his laughter anymore, both at Haruka's general playfulness and his weird remark. "What does that even mean?"

Upon hearing Makoto's bubbling laughter, Haruka had to chuckle as well. "I don't know," he admitted as he snorted, a youthful smile stretching his face and Makoto hadn't felt this young and carefree in years, so he couldn't do anything but smile back at him, wide and genuine.

When their giggles passed, Haruka cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure.

"In all seriousness, I'm sure you would be able to play piano if you tried. You seem very determined and dedicated so I think you could definitely do it if you wanted to," he murmured softly, and when he realised how unusually sentimental his words had been, he quickly continued, "I could teach you, if you want."

Surprised by that offer, Makoto's mind filled with thoughts of spending many afternoons just like this, sitting side by side in the large ballroom with soft palms and delicate fingertips guiding his hands over the black and white keys to fill the air around them with the most beautiful melodies. The mere thought of such intimacy made his skin prickle and his heart sing. "I'd like that a lot."

"Alright. I'm not a piano teacher though, so if you prefer being taught by a professional, I can hire a proper teacher," Haruka suggested but Makoto immediately shook his head.

"I wouldn't want to be taught by anyone but you."

It was Haruka's turn to be surprised by Makoto's sincere words, and he smiled softly down at their hands. "Alright."

Even though Haruka's offer to hire a piano teacher for him had been a genuine one and he was sure that if he had expressed his preference for that then Haruka would have done what he proposed, it was obvious in every little mannerism that he'd rather be the one to teach him as well. And because Haruka seemed to be someone who generally didn't go out of his way or put effort into teaching others things like this, especially since he wasn't a professional and didn't really have much time to spare as it was, the fact that he proposed to do this for him told Makoto that it was just an excuse for them to spent more time together. Perhaps the same images and expectations that Makoto had were in Haruka's head as well. Just the possibility of it made Makoto's stomach flutter with anticipation for a time that would never come.

For a moment they sat in silence as neither of them really knew what to do from this point on, the air heavy with unvoiced emotion. To Makoto's astonishment, Haruka didn't remove his hands from where they laid on top of his, his warm and soft palms providing a pleasant pressure. There was nothing that Makoto wanted more at that moment than to turn his hands around so he could slip his fingers between Haruka's, but he didn't dare to. Fear of potential rejection, of crossing Haruka's boundaries and making him uncomfortable held him back. Even if his smitten mind had somewhat successfully convinced him that his interest was mutual, for that was definitely the impression that Haruka gave him, he didn't want to risk breaking the agonisingly wonderful tension that had settled between them.

Slowly but surely their eyes met, getting lost in trying to decipher the intentions that were thinly veiled by hesitance, but were somehow conveyed by a gaze that connected them; like a beautiful lake in the middle of a gorgeous forest, two separate entities that intertwined inevitably, coming together to form a stunning scenery that would lack with the other's absence.

Haruka was the one to shy away first, turning his face as the pretty blush that Makoto had quickly come to adore lit up his cheeks; a sunrise that was a magnificent addition to the landscape of their hearts. It was only this gesture that made Makoto snap out of it, for he could never be the first one to look away since Haruka's eyes never failed to capture him with every fleeting glance. Normally he would be a little embarrassed for staring, but it was hard to feel it when Haruka's response was so endearing.

His eyes fell on their hands once more, for he knew that that was where Haruka's gaze rested too. Knowing that there was no excuse to keep his hands in place for his point had long since been made, Haruka slowly dragged his fingers over the back of Makoto's hands simply to prolong their touch for just a little while. The feather-light sensation was rather ticklish, yet gentle and tender. Not only did it make the skin beneath Haruka's soft fingertips tingle, it ignited a spark that sent shivers through his entire body like a small whisper in his ear.

When Haruka's skin had left his entirely, he quickly withdrew his arms and folded his hands in his lap, like he wanted to prevent himself from getting persuaded to reach out again. With a small cough he cleared his throat in order to collect himself, or so Makoto had learned he did in the time they spent together.

"But in return," Haruka continued as if their conversation had never ended, "I want you to teach me that song."

Whether it was because the song held significance to Makoto or just because Haruka had liked it, Makoto didn't know, but this request made him feel giddy inside. "Deal," he chuckled, and his agreement brought a smile to Haruka's face as well. "So when do you want to start? Right now?"

Haruka opened his mouth to answer but was ultimately interrupted by firm knocks on the door. His face fell with a sliver of disappointment but it was gone as quickly as it had come and was replaced with a tiny spark of what Makoto guessed to be excitement.

Remembering that Haruka had asked the servants to come here, Makoto knew that Haruka had actually planned something different for this afternoon than learning a song of Makoto's folk. "Maybe later?" he suggested, the kind tone of his voice indicating that it was something they could put on hold for now but definitely continue in the future if Haruka wished to do so.

These words halted his contemplation and an appreciative smile softened his features. "Yeah," he murmured before he called out, "Come in."

The doors swung open and closed after a little over a dozen servants entered the room and Haruka walked off the podium, meeting them halfway and without realising it, Makoto followed him down.

"Thank you for wanting to play for us," Haruka said in addressing to all of them.

"Of course, Your Highness," one woman responded clearly and the rest muttered similar answers, "Any requests?"

Pursing his lips in thought, Haruka pondered for a second before he suggested, "Waltz of the Flowers?"

The servants nodded to show that they would comply before they climbed up the steps and settled themselves in their seats and took ahold of their respective instruments, fumbling with the pages of their sheet music to get to the right one.

While they were getting ready to play their instruments, Haruka turned to Makoto again.

"This is okay, right? I mean, it's hardly a full orchestra so the music will sound quite a bit different but…"

"It's fine, Haru," Makoto assured with his trademark smile, "Thank you."

Those words made Haruka smile as well and he grabbed Makoto's hand, bowing at him as he formally asked, "May I have this dance?"

Makoto's heart had already been racing, but at that question it began to beat even faster. There was nothing he wanted more dearly than to dance with Haruka, but there was a small problem - or actually, a quite large problem.

"I- Haru, I-" he stuttered, afraid of making Haruka feel like he was being rejected when he most certainly was not but he didn't quite know what to say. After a second of pondering, he just went with the truth, "I can't dance."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Haruka stated in a way that was supposed to be reassuring but at that moment it didn't really work.

"No, I mean, I can't dance. As in, I don't know how," Makoto emphasized, quickly trying to come up with an excuse but being unable to find one. He knew he'd had no choice but to tell Haruka the truth because he couldn't fake his way through dancing without it being glaringly obvious he had no idea what he was doing. But unlike with previous struggles, he had no explanation for this one; what kind of prince didn't know how to dance?

"You were never taught?" Haruka questioned in confusion, not letting go of his hand.

"W-Well, they tried to teach me, but I… I always skipped out on the lessons, much to my parents and teachers' dismay, haha," he laughed awkwardly as he tried to fabricate a conclusion to his lies, "After a few failed attempts they decided to just let me off the hook. We didn't hold many balls and the attention was always on my sisters anyway."

This was it, Makoto thought. This is where everything went downhill. There was no way Haruka would buy this absurd story, even he knew better than to believe something like this. He was completely sure that Nagisa knew how to dance and that it was mandatory for members of royal and noble families to learn it.

But Haruka only looked a bit surprised and didn't question him further. Haruka trusted him, enough to believe every nonsensical word that left his mouth, and it made him feel so incredibly guilty for putting his trust to shame. This whole act already made him feel bad enough as it was and while he was glad that Haruka found him trustworthy and that he therefore didn't blow his cover, Makoto didn't know how much more guilt he could stomach before it would become an unbearable burden.

"Oh…" Haruka sighed and even if that probably wasn't his intention, Makoto could hear how disappointed he was. "I guess we'll do something else then."

The dejected tone of his voice made Makoto feel even worse, especially because he did actually want to dance with him. It wasn't odd that Haruka thought that he despised dancing for the core of his story implied that he ran away in detestation, when he truthfully wished for nothing more than that he had been taught how to dance as a child so he wouldn't have to disappoint Haruka - and himself. All of this made him regret not being a real prince; someone who had the skill and knowledge to match up to Haruka and go along with his every whim.

"No!" he protested, his voice being so loud that it startled Haruka, "I mean," he continued in a softer tone, "I want to dance with you. I just… don't know how. So, could you teach me?"

"Oh," Haruka echoed, this time being pleasantly surprised, "Sure, uh…"

The rest of the sentence died out on his tongue and Makoto could practically see the gears turning in his head. Explaining how to dance obviously did not come as easy to Haruka as explaining how to swim - though admittedly, some things he had uttered during his swimming lesson did not completely make sense to Makoto either, but he had found that rather endearing especially since his excitement had been clearly shining through - as he really had to think of where to start. So Makoto smiled patiently at him, letting him know that he could take his time to figure it out.

"Um, I only know how to lead," he mumbled after a minute, "Is that alright?"

"Of course," Makoto beamed with a reassuring smile, "It's going to be my first time so it doesn't matter either way. Besides, I figure following is easier than leading, right?"

"I don't know," Haruka said honestly with a shrug, "Perhaps."

Then the music began to play and with Makoto's hand still in his, Haruka led them away from the podium and further into the large room.

"Alright so," Haruka started, grabbing his other hand as he took a step closer to him and Makoto's heart fluttered at his sudden proximity. He raised their arms as he firmly yet gently held his hand, "Put your other hand right beneath my shoulder."

"Like this?" Makoto lightly put his left hand on Haruka's upper arm like Haruka told him to.

"Yes," Haruka affirmed and he put his own right hand on Makoto's shoulder blade. "Basically, what you have to do is respond to my movements: so if I take a step forward with my right foot, you take a step backward with your left foot. And if I take a step backward then you take a step forward, um…"

Knowing that Haruka was having a hard time explaining, Makoto decided to save him the struggle of finding more words. "Let's just try it, alright?"

"Alright," Haruka murmured with a thankful smile, "We'll take it slowly."

"Sorry in advance if I step on your toes."

"Forgiven in advance," he chuckled, "I'm not exactly the greatest dancer myself so I'm sorry in advance as well."

Makoto laughed softly, "Forgiven in advance as well."

"Ready?"

"Whenever you are."

At Makoto's okay Haruka counted from three to one before he slowly put his right foot forward, giving Makoto time to respond to his movement. Makoto kept his eyes pointedly focused on their feet, wanting to prevent himself from misstepping and actually stepping on Haruka's toes. Their dance was slow yet it confused him nonetheless; stepping sideways and switching directions were not things that Haruka had mentioned, but Makoto didn't complain about it for he knew Haruka'd had a hard enough time explaining as it was. So he just let himself be pulled along by Haruka and the pace he had created.

After a little while Makoto began to recognise a pattern in their steps but he still kept his attention on their every motion. They were dancing out of tune with the music for their movements were far slower than the rhythm of the composition, but Makoto didn't notice it because he was too preoccupied with not tripping over his own feet. Haruka didn't seem to mind it though; he was as patient with him as he always was and Makoto dearly appreciated that.

When the last notes rang out, Haruka came to a halt, naturally stopping Makoto as well.

"How was that?" Haruka wondered, clearly wanting to know his honest opinion.

"It was fun. Difficult, but fun," Makoto said with a warm smile. Even though it was hard, he knew he wanted to learn as quickly as possibly so he could dance a proper waltz with Haruka.

"Try not to look at your feet this time," Haruka advised, "I promise it's easier if you're not too focused on what you're doing. Rather than think, try to feel it."

That advice was so befitting of Haruka that it stretched Makoto's smile, showing his teeth as he giggled a little. "I'll try my best."

"Your Highness?" the same woman from before called out, now holding a flute in her hands. She didn't elaborate on what she meant, but it was clear that she was asking Haruka what composition he wanted to hear next.

"Do you have any requests?" he asked Makoto, who only shook his head.

"You can choose the pieces," he offered, wanting to make sure he sounded like he wanted to please Haruka - while he did want to do that, the main reason had been that he didn't have enough knowledge to propose a waltz, for he truly knew none.

"Okay," Haruka breathed before he stated, "Sobre las Olas, please."

It was quiet for a little while, save for the sound of pages being turned as the servants searched for the one that held the score of Sobre las Olas.

When the music resumed, Haruka stared into his eyes as he began to move again. "Look at me," he reminded, but he truly didn't have to for his enchantingly beautiful eyes had long since captivated Makoto once more.

And like that, it was as if his feet moved on their own. Though they had made joking remarks about it before, it really was as if Haruka was his puppeteer now for his mere gaze had caught Makoto in a spell that controlled his every muscle. There was nothing that he could do except for letting himself be swept along by Haruka's current, like Haruka was guiding him over the waves of music.

Because he was no longer worried about the placement of his feet, he was truly able to feel it, just like Haruka told him to. Suddenly he was extremely aware of the way they held each other: of Haruka's hand on his back, of his own hand beneath Haruka's shoulder, of the gentle touch of his fingers curled around his and their warm palms pressed together. Although Haruka didn't strike him as someone who was particularly fond of dancing, there was an adorable smile on his pretty face and the look in his stunning eyes emitted nothing but sheer joy.

Could it be that Haruka had wanted to dance with him not because he enjoyed it, but because it was a reason to hold him close? Or did he think that even if dancing was not his favourite activity, he would enjoy it if he danced with him? It might not be either of these things, but the possibility that either, if not both, had been the motive behind Haruka's actions made Makoto's foolish self incredibly happy and he couldn't suppress a wide grin.

From a professional's point of view, their dancing probably looked terrible: their form was off and the rhythm was all over the place, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was that they were together and they were having a really great time as they twirled around the ballroom in each other's arms.

The song was finished far too quickly for Makoto's liking but one look into Haruka's eyes told him that in contrast to the composition, this moment was far from over.

"Do you think we can go a little faster now?" Haruka proposed, the kindness in his tone indicating that it was merely a suggestion and that it by no means had to be accepted by Makoto if he didn't want to do so.

"Yeah," Makoto agreed, feeling confident enough to speed up the pace.

In response Haruka nodded and before the flutist could ask him for his next request, Haruka said, "Voices of Spring."

This time Haruka didn't wait for the music to start up before he resumed their waltz and Makoto giggled at his eagerness, feeling as light as a feather. Although he definitely didn't dislike dancing, Makoto knew for sure that he was enjoying himself as much as he was because Haruka was his partner.

Despite knowing the music was being played by the servants, in this moment Makoto truly felt like Haruka and he were the only two people on the planet. Never before in his life had he set foot on a dance floor but with Haruka leading him, Makoto felt like he had been born to do nothing but follow him. It felt natural to him, and though his skill and appearance definitely disproved this, it seemed so easy. With Haruka pulling his strings, he felt like he could do just about anything and have a lot of fun doing it too.

Almost effortlessly they moved from one end of the room to the other, compatible like they were two bodies in perfect harmony. Like they had been made for the sole purpose of holding and guiding each other.

The afternoon continued like this, just the two of them dancing around the large ballroom in a faux waltz with a makeshift orchestra of maids and lackeys providing the music. If the music inevitably stopped then Haruka would call out another title that didn't sound familiar to Makoto and the music resumed soon thereafter.

Makoto could not remember a single moment in his life in which he felt happier than he was right then. Swaying around the room without a care in the world, in the arms of the kindest and most beautiful person he had ever met. There had been many times in these past few days when he felt like he could die on the spot and live in paradise forevermore, and though he had meant it in every heartbeat, it gained more depth and meaning each time. Every moment beside Haruka was even greater than the next and Makoto wasn't sure how much more he could take before he would explode for there was simply too much happiness to manage and contain within himself. He just felt so light, like his feet left the floor as he ascended to the heavens on a cloud of warmth and fuzziness.

In hindsight, he was very grateful that Kisumi had gotten him new boots, because his feet definitely wouldn't have survived dancing around for hours in boots that were too small and hurt his toes. And while his feet still hurt a little after carrying his weight for so long without a break, Makoto didn't feel it; all he felt was Haruka's touch and the butterflies that were roaming through his belly.

At one point when the music stopped, Haruka told the servants to just play whatever, no longer caring what they danced to as long as they got to continue. Since Makoto didn't really know many of the compositions either way, he shared this sentiment entirely.

If there had been any trace of seriousness in their waltz before, then it was slowly dissipating as the hours passed and the afternoon progressed. Feeling bold and somewhat playful, Makoto lifted the hand that was in Haruka's and held it up, silently inviting Haruka to spin around and he chuckled as he did. Slowly Haruka's hold on him began to slacken and his hand drifted from Makoto's upper back to his waist, his palm a gentle and light pressure against the small of his back and their outstretched arms were no longer as taut as they were at the start, their elbows hanging comfortably beside them. Their dance was beginning to lose every bit of form it once had but again, neither of them minded or cared. It may not be a correct waltz any longer, it probably never had been in the first place, but it was correct in Makoto's heart. Because something that felt so right simply couldn't be wrong.

One by one the servants left the room for they had other things they needed to attend to; they needed to set the table for dinner or do the laundry or something similar like that, and Haruka told them to just leave when they had to and that they didn't need to ask permission nor announce their exit. Truthfully he and Makoto didn't even notice their absence or lack of contribution to the music for their minds were completely engulfed with one another.

As the afternoon turned into the evening, the last maid left to attend to other business and it was really just them, alone in the large empty ballroom with only the sound of their own heartbeats and breaths.

Bathed in the orange light of the setting sun that was shining through the windows, they continued to dance. Rather than letting their pace be dictated by music, they were now dancing to the rhythm of their hearts, that were beating as one. Not a word had been spoken to each other for hours but the silence that had since then settled in the air between the two of them was a comfortable one that didn't require to be disrupted by verbal affirmations; they were content just the way they were.

In a slow and gentle movement, Haruka leaned his head against Makoto's shoulder. A smile of endearment softened Makoto's features as he tightened his arm around Haruka's back, holding him even closer than before. Simultaneously they sighed, feeling happy and at ease in the arms of someone they met just the day before yesterday, yet had grown close to in a way they never had with anyone else before.

Almost naturally, their roles reversed; as Haruka rested his head against Makoto, he shifted his weight and allowed Makoto to take charge. Slowly stepping around in circles could hardly be called dancing, let alone leading, but what did it matter when that was what they both wanted?

Makoto's eyes fell close as he leaned his cheek against Haruka's head, truly wanting to experience and feel this moment with every fiber of his being. Haruka's hair smelled so nice and Makoto was overcome with the desire to bury his nose between the strands and press tiny kisses against his scalp. Despite their current position and the fact that Haruka was the one who closed the distance between their bodies first, Makoto wasn't completely sure if he would be comfortable with something like that yet. Never wanting to make him feel anything but happy and safe, Makoto held himself back. He wouldn't want to break this magical moment anyway.

Since the music had long since stopped, Makoto began to hum a soft melody, which also helped to distract himself from any wandering thoughts. Rather than think, try to feel it, Haruka had told him and oh, did he feel.

It was strange how the mere thought of holding Haruka like this would have been enough to make him blush and make his knees go weak with nervousness yesterday, yet now, a little over twenty-four hours later, he felt calm and at ease, filled with feelings of bliss and rightness. But then again, it wasn't that odd because it felt like centuries had passed since then in terms of their connection.

It seemed like Makoto wasn't the only one who was feeling things he had never felt before; Haruka sighed once more in contentment as he softly rubbed his cheek against Makoto's shoulder, most likely feeling the vibrations of his chest while he hummed. In a need to return Haruka's subtle display of affection Makoto gently stroked his thumb over the back of Haruka's hand. He didn't so much see the cute smile that stretched Haruka's lips as he felt it.

Eventually they came to a halt, standing still for the first time in hours. Even if he never wanted to let Haruka go again, he knew they couldn't keep dancing for the rest of eternity; the sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon so surely it wouldn't be long until they were called for dinner. Perhaps Haruka still wanted to freshen himself up before that, so the time for this moment to end had most likely come. Time really does fly when you're having fun.

Without a word Haruka got the message and straightened his back, removing his face from where it had been cuddled into Makoto's body, though his grip around Makoto's waist remained. As Makoto let Haruka's hand slip away from his, he was surprised to feel his other arm wrap around him to join the other. So naturally, Makoto's free arm wound itself around Haruka, seeking to return his embrace.

Haruka looked up at him, and his beautiful eyes had never seemed this large before and his long and dark lashes only accentuated the deep blue. There was a strand of his hair that was tousled from where it had rubbed against Makoto's clothing and without thinking, he reached up to flatten it against his head again and he brushed it behind his ear. Haruka stared into his eyes like he was searching for something, some kind of approval or permission. When he ultimately found it, Makoto could see his eyes fluttering shut before he felt him stand up on his tippy toes and he leaned down to meet him halfway.

But then there were a few sharp knocks on the door and they jumped away from each other like they had been burned by the other's touch and bright blushes lit up their faces. Rather than being afraid of getting caught, it had startled them; it had broken the spell that they had captivated each other in at the beginning of this afternoon - or really, from the first moment they laid eyes upon each other.

Trying his best to regain some form of composure, Haruka smoothed over his clothing in fear of looking dishevelled before he coughed lightly. He most likely didn't trust his voice not to crack after he hadn't spoken for quite some time and was filled with a whirlwind of unknown feelings, or so Makoto presumed.

"Yes?"

Like Makoto had predicted, the door was opened by a lackey who announced, "Your Highness, dinner is being served."

"We'll be there in a minute," Haruka said with a nod, having successfully recovered his stoic expression. "Thank you."

As soon as the door closed again his demeanour immediately crumbled, melting away like snow in daylight. Bashfully he pointed his gaze towards their feet. It was honestly adorable, especially since he had been the one who told Makoto not to look at their feet hours earlier and even if the circumstances had been different, Makoto knew it was because he was afraid to feel. Although the sight of Haruka being shy and a little self-conscious was quite endearing, it would be cruel to make him suffer from his own embarrassment longer when there was no reason for him to be embarrassed in the first place.

Makoto put his hand over his heart and his other arm against his lower back and bowed to Haruka the way he had when they first met, just how Rei taught him to. "Thank you for dancing with me," he thanked solemnly before he stood back up and smiled at Haruka, "I had a lot of fun, Haru."

Haruka's eyebrows raised in a look of surprise before he chuckled softly, trying to cover his mouth with his hand. "I had a lot of fun too," he murmured as he lowered his hand again, a cute smile stretching his pretty lips, "Thank you." He finished with a bow of his own, his eyes twinkling with joy.

Glad to see that he was no longer embarrassed, Makoto giggled before he tried to assume a serious demeanour, yet failing since he simply couldn't repress his wide smile. "Now, would you like to accompany me for dinner?" he inquired, holding out his arm in invitation.

"It would be an honour," Haruka nodded, grinning at their mock-formality as he accepted Makoto's arm and lightly grabbed onto it. Even if it was most likely expected of them to be formal as a form of politeness to one another since they hadn't known each other for long yet, they both felt more comfortable with dropping formalities because it portrayed some type of emotional distance that they had far since crossed.

With the touch of a hand on an arm connecting them, they left the room to attend to dinner, a soft smile gracing both of their faces.

---

By the time dinner was over, the moon had long since come out, illuminating the night sky and shining down on the land. Though that usually meant that it was time for bed for Makoto since another long day of work would start at sunrise, he didn't feel tired at all right then for the adrenaline his excitement provided was doing a great job at keeping him awake and buzzing with energy.

Once they had eaten their fill, Haruka asked him if he would like to take another stroll around the gardens with him, and Makoto would have been downright foolish to refuse an offer as lovely as that one.

The gardens of the palace of Iwatobi were massive and covered a large patch of ground, probably even more than the palace itself, Makoto dared to guess. It seemed like the parts that he had already seen when they walked around here before were only a fraction of the entire thing and that baffled Makoto; they had stayed closer to the edge of the garden yesterday so they would easily get to the gate so it wasn't strange that he hadn't seen much then, but on the first day they had strolled for about an hour so he had assumed that he had seen most there was to these gardens. But he had been wrong. Truthfully, these gardens were like a maze and Makoto could have easily gotten lost here on his own, which is why he was so grateful and glad that Haruka was here with him, since he seemingly knew these gardens like the back of his hand - that was only one of the many reasons why he was grateful and glad for Haruka's company, though.

"These gardens are much larger than I initially expected," Makoto confessed.

"They are quite large," Haruka affirmed with a fond smile, "They were my grandmother's pride and joy. She loved flowers and plants in general so she would spend a lot of time here. She used to take care of a fair portion of the garden herself until she got too old to keep up. A lot of what you see is here thanks to her."

"She really had an eye for it. It's so beautiful," Makoto complimented, letting his eyes wander around. The light that was coming from the moon and from the lanterns that were beside the pathways lit up the area, revealing the orderly garden that was filled with all different kinds of colourful flowers - some of which Makoto had never even seen before - bushes with roses and rhododendrons, and other plants that he didn't know the name of. There were shrubs trimmed in the shapes of dolphins and trees with low-hanging branches over some parts of the pathway. Here and there stood an iron bench to admire the handiwork of the gardeners and Makoto had even seen some fountains. All in all this place was absolutely beautiful and the fireflies that were fluttering around and about had a certain kind of charm that only added to the magical atmosphere.

"She did, and I'm sure she would appreciate you saying that," Haruka said as he looked around them as well, "What I like about these gardens is that they look different during the day and at night. The way that different kinds of light hit them really gives a different feeling to them. The flowers look better during the day when the sun is out, but I really like the ambience at night too."

"That's really interesting," Makoto honestly thought, "Will you show me them during the day too sometime?"

"If you want me to, of course," Haruka agreed and Makoto was already looking forward to that. But first, he had to witness and appreciate the wonderful sight of the gardens when the sky was dark and lit up by bright stars.

"Did she talk to you a lot about flowers?" he asked to get the conversation back on topic, being curious and having gathered as much because of the nostalgic look in Haruka's eyes and the previous conversations they had about former Queen Nanase.

Haruka nodded. "She taught me everything I know about flora."

"Do you garden as well?"

"I used to, a little," he revealed, "Back when I was little and my grandmother would take care of the plants, she would always ask if I wanted to help her. I'm sure an unknowing child's help did not have much added value, but I always enjoyed it and I think she did, too."

"I'm sure she did," Makoto muttered. Even if he hadn't known Queen Nanase himself, she seemed like a very loving grandmother who was fond of her grandson and Haruka's stories gave him a feeling of unconditional affection that he never got from the king and current queen - though again, he didn't know them very well so it was unfair of him to judge, but that was the impression Haruka gave him of his parents as well. The mental image of a younger version of Haruka doing his best to help his grandmother take care of the violets and poppies was so incredibly endearing that it brought a smile to Makoto's face, so surely the heart of Haruka's grandmother must have melted at the sight of her adorable grandson as well.

"If you can call that gardening, then I suppose I did," Haruka concluded with a snort. "Why, did it seem like something I would be good at?"

Makoto laughed at Haruka's joking mockery. "Actually, yes it does."

"I told you my parents valued multifaceted staff," Haruka stated with a badly suppressed expression of amusement, "Not a multifaceted son."

"Well, they have both," Makoto responded in earnest, "Multifaceted staff for a multifaceted prince."

At that Haruka actually snickered, yet the light that shone on his face revealed a hint of a blush at Makoto's flattering words. "Thanks, but not really," he brushed off, "Grandma was the one with the green thumb, not me. She taught me a lot, but I didn't take over her work. Flowers and plants require a lot of time and attention, and since I'm currently not in the position to provide either, it's best to just leave them to the care of the gardeners. Luckily my grandmother taught them a lot too and they still do things the same way she used to in her memory, and I'm really glad about that."

"But?" Makoto questioned, knowing that there was more to it than that despite the respectfulness of the staff based on the somewhat melancholic look in his eyes.

"It just feels a bit different," Haruka shrugged and even if he didn't elaborate, Makoto still understood what he meant; it was different because his grandmother enjoyed working in the gardens and always put her love into it, and while the gardeners may enjoy it too, it was still different for they did it because it was their job and not out of genuine interest and care. That's why, to Haruka, the flowers that bloomed lacked the warmth of a loving touch.

"Maybe one day, when you're old and things have calmed down after stepping down from the throne, you can continue her legacy," Makoto proposed with an understanding smile, "Take care of the garden and return her touch."

Haruka smiled softly at his suggestion that was meant to bid some comfort. "Will you be there to assist me?"

Those words held a deeper meaning that was as clear as water to Makoto. The thought of walking through these very gardens fifty years from now with Haruka, who had since then acquired some wrinkles and grey hair yet never lost his handsomeness and charm, brought a surge of longing to his chest and he mirrored Haruka's smile. "If you want me to. I'm not sure if I would be the most valuable asset, but if you want me to, then definitely."

Makoto had implied more with his words as well than what he had said, but Haruka didn't have any trouble catching what was beneath the surface either. "I think you would be a very valuable asset."

Even if the sceptical part of Makoto wondered if he had actually meant it or if it was merely a flirtatious comment that fit the conversation, it made Makoto incredibly happy nonetheless. His intuition told him that Haruka wouldn't say something like that if he didn't truly mean it, and in this case Makoto decided to side with his feelings rather than his rationality and pessimism.

"So, do you like flowers?" Haruka then asked in an attempt to steer the conversation back to a little more light-hearted topic.

"I do," Makoto confirmed with a wide smile, "I've always thought they were very pretty, but unfortunately I'm not very educated on flora either."

Haruka chuckled, "I think most people aren't; I probably wouldn't be either if it weren't for my grandmother. But despite that, do you have a favourite?"

"Not really, I think all flowers are pretty in their own way," Makoto said as he pondered, "It's a little cliché, but I really like roses. So if I had to pick a favourite, it would be roses, I think."

"That is a little cliché," Haruka stated, the smile that was present on his handsome face betraying his amusement. "But there's nothing wrong with being a little cliché; roses are pretty so it's not surprising that they're one of the most commonly known flowers."

Makoto couldn't help but smile as well. "What are yours?"

"I don't think I have one either," Haruka admitted with a shrug, "There are a lot of pretty flowers. I like roses too. And hydrangeas. I guess I'd pick those, if I had to choose."

"Those are really pretty too," Makoto commented, "And your grandmother? Did she have a favourite?"

"She loved all kinds of flowers too," Haruka informed, giggling softly, "but I remember her being especially fond of tulips, camellias and orange blossoms."

"That's quite unusual. Orange blossoms, I mean."

"She really liked the meaning behind them," he explained, "Apparently they stand for eternal love."

"Wow, I didn't know that. That's really beautiful," Makoto sighed in amazement, and while he had never really given orange blossoms a second thought before, they were suddenly so much more meaningful and beautiful to him. "Did she teach you the meaning of more flowers?"

"She did," Haruka confirmed and he began to tell him about the meanings of the flowers they just talked about. Makoto listened intently, asking questions and sighing in awe and as they strolled through the depths of the garden, Haruka pointed out the plants and flowers that Makoto didn't know and told him about them. Even if the sight of them was not the same as it was during the day, Makoto felt like he was living in a fairytale, walking through the enchanting gardens with a prince most charming.

As silence fell between them after a little while, their shoulders occasionally bumped, sending sparks throughout Makoto's body. There was nothing Makoto wanted more badly than to grab ahold of Haruka's delicate hand and intertwine their fingers, but he had promised himself that he would always wait for Haruka to take the first step. The last thing he wanted was to do something that would make Haruka uncomfortable, and since he wanted Haruka to feel safe and secure around him, he would never even consider crossing Haruka's boundaries so he held himself back. It seemed like the courteous thing to do.

But he didn't have to wait for long until he felt a light brush of fingertips against his hand. It was a shy touch at first, like he was waiting for Makoto to pull away, but slowly Haruka slipped his slim fingers between his. In response Makoto tightened his grip and gave Haruka's hand a gentle squeeze, wordlessly conveying that his desire was mutual. A tender smile stretched his lips and he looked over at Haruka, whose lips curled up into a small and content smile as well. There was no longer the need to find an excuse; the only reason they needed was that it felt right to hold each other's hand and that it made them both incredibly happy. Their hands fit together as perfectly as they always had and Makoto never wanted to let him go again. The soft squeeze that he got in return told him that their hearts were on the same wavelength, beating as one.

Eventually Haruka led them to a part of the garden that was a little more secluded by a large hedge that surrounded the area. A small gazebo stood in front of a field of red tulips, ivy grew around the white pillars and in the middle on four chains hung a white wooden bench above the ground. It looked like a scenery straight from a picture book, like it was supposed to be in the midst of an abandoned forest waiting to be discovered.

"This was my grandmother's favourite spot," Haruka said and in those expressive eyes Makoto read his reminiscence; all of the precious afternoons spent right here with her when he was younger.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Haru," Makoto murmured, sincerely being glad that Haruka wanted to share this gorgeous place that held so much significance with him.

An appreciative smile appeared on Haruka's face, knowing that he didn't need any more words to explain himself for Makoto to understand. "Would you like to sit down for a little while?"

"Yes."

Without letting go of his hand, Haruka walked up the two steps, naturally pulling Makoto along with him. He sat down on the hanging seat and Makoto followed suit, sitting down on Haruka's right side. It was a lot sturdier than it initially seemed, Makoto concluded thankfully.

The gazebo was made just so that one could still look at parts of the sky while sitting on the bench, and silence fell between them once more as they gazed into the night. The moon wasn't visible from this place but there were countless of stars that shone brightly. All of this made everything seem even more magical to Makoto and he was quite sure that he was dreaming. He didn't pinch himself to confirm it though, because he never wanted to wake up again.

But as the seconds ticked by, the weight of Haruka's hand in his felt more and more real and he happily concluded that he was not dreaming at all, for the mere feeling was better than he ever could have imagined. The more he really thought about it, the heavier the sentiment pressed onto his heart and he had never felt as much as he did at that moment. Although he told himself that he would always wait for Haruka to make the first move, it was like the weight of his emotions forced all of his thoughts and feelings out of him.

"You know, Haru," he started and Haruka looked over at him with a questioning look that encouraged him to go on. "I've had a lot of fun these past few days. Spending time with you makes me really happy, happier than I've ever felt before. Being with you makes me feel comfortable and young and just so happy; it's like time just flies by when I'm with you yet it also stands still and I... I can't really explain it but I've never felt anything like this before. I know that hasn't been long since we first met but it just feels like I've known you forever and-" When Makoto realised he was rambling, he abruptly shut his mouth as he tried to get his thoughts straight, wanting to find a conclusion and get to the point. "I guess, what I'm trying to say is I… I like you, Haru. I really, really like you."

With that confession off his chest, Makoto turned his face away from Haruka, staring at his lap. His heart was pounding against his ribcage and his cheeks felt warmer than they ever had. He had actually gone and voiced the feelings that had been progressively building up inside of him since the moment he first saw Haruka. It hadn't been his intention, but they were so intense that they overflowed in his heart and he simply couldn't let them go unspoken for any longer.

It felt like a century had passed and Haruka still hadn't responded to his words. Afraid that he had said something wrong in his wave of emotion, he didn't dare to look up at him and his blood was rushing in his ears with how fiercely his heart was beating, causing him to miss the tiny gasp of surprise that had slipped past Haruka's lips without his permission. But Haruka didn't let go of his hand, and he reasoned that he would have pulled away by now if he had somehow been offended by Makoto's rushed yet heartfelt confession.

Not being able to take it any longer for the accumulated tension was too much to handle, Makoto raised his head and looked back at Haruka. His blue eyes were as large as saucers and his pretty mouth was open ever so slightly, like he was still processing Makoto's words. Slowly what Makoto had told him seemed to get through to him and then suddenly, like a switch being flipped, his cheeks lit up brightly and he averted his head as well.

Makoto wasn't quite sure what to make of this reaction, but considering that his fingers remained to be laced with his own, he wasn't too worried anymore.

"I…" Haruka began and he turned his head back, staring into Makoto's eyes as he murmured, "I like you too. A lot."

When Haruka's words sank in, an impossibly wide smile appeared on Makoto's face before it softened as he sighed, "Haru."

In response Haruka smiled as well and with his free hand he cupped Makoto's cheek. The smiles soon faded away as their gazes held each other, both being unable to look away from the other's breathtaking eyes as the air between them was charged with tension that had hung between them since day one yet had never been so intense before. Almost naturally, their faces were drawn to each other and their eyes fluttered shut as their lips met.

The kiss was small and shy and only lasted for a second before they pulled back to look at each other once more. In Haruka's eyes Makoto read the same desire that he felt burning in his heart, that was practically beating out of his chest and there was not a sliver of doubt left inside of him. So he parted his lips and tilted his head ever so slightly before he closed the distance between them again.

Haruka kissed him back without hesitance. His lips were so incredibly soft and they felt so good against Makoto's own that his brain short-circuited. Just like this afternoon, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing and yet his body seemed to move on its own, his lips brushing over Haruka's thinner ones like they had been made for the sole purpose of kissing him. Their lips fit together perfectly and the sensation was so mind-blowing that Makoto had to wrap his arm around Haruka's waist for leverage, like he would be swept away if he let go.

If Makoto had been told that he would share his first kiss with the crown prince of a neighbouring kingdom, he would have laughed in disbelief. Yet here he was, sitting in the gardens of the palace of Iwatobi, kissing Prince Haruka Nanase who he had grown so fond of in such a short time. He could barely even believe it now, even as he felt the slow and tender pressure of his mouth on his.

He seemingly wasn't the only one who was inexperienced; Haruka's movements were a little unsure yet nonetheless passionate and Makoto gently squeezed his hand. Every last fiber of his being was filled with warmth and affection and butterflies were roaming through his stomach like crazy, setting his body ablaze from within.

The hand that was on Makoto's face drifted into his hair and Haruka's fingers tangled through his brown locks, feeling like heaven against his scalp. Their current position was a little awkward and not exactly ideal for kissing, but they didn't let that hold them back; there was absolutely nothing that could stop the force that was attracting them to each other.

In a need to bring their bodies even closer together, Haruka released his hold on Makoto's hand to wrap his arm around his neck. Even if he had previously thought that he never wanted to let go of his smooth hand, Makoto definitely wasn't complaining now. His other hand found its place on Haruka's slender waist and the kiss was so tender that all of his insides just turned fuzzy at the touch of Haruka's plush lips against his.

But Makoto actually melted when he felt Haruka's tongue swiping along his lips, requesting permission to enter and he opened his mouth to let his own tongue meet Haruka's halfway. He had absolutely no clue what he was supposed to do but that didn't matter, because from the moment Haruka's tongue touched his, every trace of his common sense disappeared and his mind was unable to produce any coherent thoughts any longer. It was hot and soft and it just felt so incredibly good that Makoto's hands immediately came up to cup his face, that seemed so small cradled in his large palms. His fingers were gentle against his porcelain skin, holding him so carefully like Haruka would shatter beneath his touch if he added too much pressure.

A soft moan slipped into the kiss when Haruka licked into his mouth, involuntarily leaving Makoto's body at the sensation but in response Haruka hummed as well, his fingers eagerly trying to touch as much of him as possible. They ultimately settled around his neck again and he lightly stroked Makoto's nape, tickling the small hairs there.

This afternoon Makoto wondered what Haruka's lips tasted like and how they would feel against his own, and he had no idea that he didn't have to wait long to find out the answer to both of those questions: like absolute heaven. He'd always had a sweet tooth but he had never tasted anything that was as sweet as Haruka and he had no words to describe how lovely his mouth felt against his own, for it was simply inexplicable. All he knew was that he would never grow tired of kissing Haruka, because it made him feel so much joy and bliss, pure and unadulterated affection seeping through in a way he had never felt before.

The last thing Makoto wanted at that moment was to stop kissing him for he wanted this moment to last for all eternity, but Haruka's lips were leaving him breathless so he had no other choice but to end their kiss. Apparently Haruka had not run out of air yet - or hadn't had enough of Makoto's lips yet - and when Makoto pulled away, he followed his lips back up and whined softly in protest. Then he realised what he was doing and pulled back as well, and Makoto wasn't sure if the blush that adorned his cheeks was there from embarrassment or if it had already been there while they were kissing.

In order to suppress a chuckle of endearment, Makoto complied with his wish and pressed another chaste kiss against Haruka's wet lips. He had absolutely nothing against the idea of kissing Haruka for the remainder of the night, but he had to take a moment to catch his breath before he could continue. Gently he rested his forehead against Haruka's and they sighed simultaneously in delight.

The look in Haruka's endlessly blue eyes was one that was softened with affection yet they were filled with yearning for more. His pretty lips were a little red and matched the colour of his cheeks, and he was just so extraordinarily beautiful. He truly was the pinnacle of flawlessness.

"Haru," Makoto gasped against Haruka's mouth, feeling his hot breath ghosting over his skin. He still couldn't believe that they had actually just kissed, that Haruka actually returned his feelings. Even if the signs had all been there, Makoto hadn't wanted to get ahead of himself and possibly interpret his feelings the wrong way, but now Haruka had confirmed them himself, both verbally and physically and he really, truly could not remember a time he had ever been happier than he was right now. Everything was simply perfect.

"Nagisa."

At that breathy whisper, Makoto's heart stopped. Every warm and fuzzy feeling in his body from their confessions and kisses turned into ice. The butterflies were no longer fluttering; they froze and shattered into a million pieces along with everything else inside of him at the sound of the name that wasn't his.

This was not a dream, but it wasn't real either. None of this was. He was a poser, an imposter, not the person Haruka thought he was. Haruka thought that they were going to get married and live happily ever after but he knew better than that; he knew that once Rei found Nagisa, he was going to run away only to never see Haruka again. And despite knowing this, he had willingly played along with it all. He had willingly toyed with Haruka's heart despite knowing better simply for his own selfish desires, just because Haruka happened to be the kindest and most beautiful person he had ever met. He had allowed himself to live in a fantasy for these past few days, but now the delusion was over.

Tears were welling up in Makoto's eyes as reality struck him like lightning and he mumbled, "I'm sorry," as he abruptly let go of Haruka and pulled himself out of his arms.

"What?" Haruka questioned, his voice so small and light and the confusion and worry were evident in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"I'm so sorry," Makoto said again before he got up and began to run away.

"Nagisa, wait!" Haruka called as he saw Makoto go, reaching out to hold him back but Makoto was faster than he was. "Wait, Nagisa! Nagisa!"

The pain was clear in Haruka's voice, but Makoto didn't stop running as his tears spilled over.

Even if he had known from the start that things would turn out like this, it had just been so easy to forget. Haruka rarely called him 'Nagisa'; he could count the amounts of times he said it on one hand, so it was easy to forget. When Haruka looked at him like he was the world and when he smiled like there was nothing wrong in the universe, it was so easy to forget.

But he hadn't forgotten. In every second spent by his side, Makoto deep down knew that there was a reason he was here, and that it wasn't to be together with Haruka. That he was only here to stall time, to put on a façade that reduced the damage for Nagisa, who had impulsively and irresponsibly ran away from his duties only to let others clean up the mess he left behind. He knew that he had agreed to it not so much to help him and Rei, but mainly to save his own family, because he was too incompetent to take care of them otherwise.

He knew all of this, yet he had repressed it, pushed it so far away that it was easy to ignore until he was directly confronted with it again and everything resurfaced. He had repressed it in the hopes that maybe, for once, he could be happy not for his parents, not for Ran and Ren, not for the neighbours and townsfolk, but for himself. And he had been; he had been so immensely happy and ultimately that led to him hurting the one person he couldn't bear to hurt. That was like a knife right in his heart.

Although these gardens were massive and maze-like, in his distress Makoto had no trouble finding his way back to the palace, seemingly getting there solely out of muscle memory.

Only when he got to his room did he come to a halt. He swung the door open with such force that it immediately clicked shut behind him again and he threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in a pillow as tears continued to pour from his eyes.

How could he have been so stupid? When he told himself that he should make the most out of every opportunity he encountered, this was not exactly what he had in mind. And yet he didn't regret it. Despite his guilt towards Haruka, he didn't regret it. Even if the last thing he ever wanted was to hurt Haruka and he had done just that, he didn't regret any of it because these past few days had truly been the most precious time of his life and he knew that he would never experience something like this again. He hated himself for feeling this way, but he would still treasure every second he got to spend at Haruka's side. He would cherish this time forevermore.

Nagisa had been right. Sometimes, love really is a feeling. Sometimes you fall in love and you just can't help it. You know that it could never work out because of the circumstances, but you can't erase the feelings in your heart.

And Makoto knew he had fallen in love with Haruka.

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A/N:Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Although this is technically a fantasy universe and therefore the music that I mentioned wouldn't necessarily exist, I still wanted to include it to give you more of an idea of what Haru played and what they danced to. Like Haru said, it wouldn't be the same as the actual compositions since there wasn't a full orchestra playing, but to give you an idea, here's the music mentioned in this chapter. I also put the titles in the languages they're most commonly known by so it wouldn't sound all too strange.
Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns
Waltz of the Flowers by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
Sobre las Olas by Juventino Rosas
Voices of Spring by Johann Strauss II

I know a lot of people have been wondering what's going on with Rei and Nagisa, but for the sake of my own agenda I needed you to stay in the dark for now and experience everything with Makoto. I promise they'll definitely come back, so I hope you understand.

I hope you liked this chapter and if you did, I would love to hear your thoughts. As always you can find me on Tumblr and Twitter DatHeetJoella if you want to chat or anything, really.

I wish you all a wonderful day and I hope to see you at the next chapter as well!