Puits d'Amour

Duty, Pt 3

Yamato sat on the sofa in his study, gazing at reports from his parents. It was evening, and the sliding doors opened to the garden. The night blended into the room, dark and cool. Insects chirped and droned, and the man-made stream ran, singing in the void. The fireplace before the couch blazed, casting dancing light into the shadowy room. Yamato enjoyed a moody setting; the only other light came from the lamp on the end table beside the sofa, to help him read. Roncier, seated at his feet with his head draped over his knee, received more attention than the papers. Yamato rubbed him idly, eyes flicking from his work to the telephone beside the lamp.

Jyou had staff phone Takeru's dormitory at Lyon University to leave a message, asking him to call at his convenience. The time in Nagano was seven hours ahead of Lyon. Thoughtfully, Takeru sent a response to the palace, letting Yamato know when to expect his ring.

He's fine, ass. He can't have gotten into too much trouble since this morning. Of course, those reassurances might have been more effective if Takeru wasn't their subject. The gods only knew what he got up to.

Yamato reached the bottom of a page without absorbing a word. Roncier's head jerked up when he heaved a dramatic sigh. "Sorry," he muttered, chastised. He wasn't getting anywhere with reading, so he placed the folder and its contents on the side table.

There was much to discuss with Takeru. Even after considering the problem for most of his waking day, Yamato wasn't sure what to reveal and what to keep hidden- or even what he wanted from Takeru. Best to focus on that now, while he had time.

And, of course, the phone chose that exact moment to ring. Yamato jumped, and Roncier joined him. "Damn him," Yamato breathed, with no heat. He grinned, relieved beyond measure, too much so to be embarrassed by it.

Yamato held the phone somewhat awkwardly and muttered, "Hello?" As a prince, he had unlimited access to phones, damn the cost. But if he needed a message sent, he asked Jyou to have staff set up the call. International calls took time to connect, and were heinously expensive.

"Onii-chan!" Grimacing, Yamato pulled the receiver away from his face. Roncier snorted, so he provided a reassuring pat. Although he knew Takeru was fine, fear for his safety had skulked in the depths of his mind since talking to his parents this morning. His brother's voice comforted him more than he could have anticipated- but also triggered the familiar, low grade annoyance of dealing with a sibling.

"Takeru, you don't need to scream-"

"You haven't sent a single letter!"

Yamato gazed into the crackling flames and muttered, "Ah." How had he failed to anticipate this?

"Ah?! Ah, you say?! I've sent you so many!"

"I'll write one," Yamato sighed. "I've only been here a week."

"Fine," Takeru huffed dramatically. "I'll forgive you, since you called. How are you?"

"Alright." Yamato's lips twisted into a scowl. Somehow sensing his distress, Roncier pressed a cool nose to his hand. Less than a minute on the line, and he was already lying to his brother. But what could he do? He still didn't know how much to tell him!

"Don't sound fine." Takeru's tone was innocent, but the jab made Yamato feel less guilty about lying to him. Sighing, he shut his eyes and rubbed his temples.

"It's just been a lot. I've been passed from noble to noble like a newborn all week."

"Fun." That single syllable oozed sympathy. While Takeru was more sociable than Yamato, he hated being paraded like a circus animal just as much- especially to boring nobles.

"How are you? How is Lyon University?" Images floated before Yamato's closed eyes, snapshots of an old, charming city, famous around the world for its food, fashion, and museums. He was told Nagano had its delights, too, but that didn't mean much if he couldn't explore them in peace.

"The usual," Takeru replied. "Started a screaming match at literary club the other day, then we all went drinking."

A day in the life. Yamato grinned, pleased that Takeru could still spend time with friends, that he had won that much for him. "Don't know why I bothered asking."

"Bit daft; these calls are expensive. What's on your mind?"

Any amusement drained. Takeru was right- pleasantries were just a way to avoid his purpose for calling. Yamato forced his gritted teeth to part. "Our parents have messages for you." If Yamato figured out how to approach what he really wanted to say, great. If not, at least he had a cover for calling.

Faintly, Yamato heard the scritch of Takeru scratching his head. "I'm glad you called, but they can call me, themselves."

"They would say they're busy." Yamato had plenty of thoughts about that, but this wasn't the time to explore them, not if he wanted to get off the line tonight.

"So are you. You made it work." Takeru's tone was even, but Yamato knew his brother. It was a forced calm, lacking his lively inflections. Whenever possible, Yamato dealt with moods by distancing himself from the situation until he calmed. Takeru continued smiling, no matter what went on underneath. He cried, surely. But anger and resentment were buried and left to die- except that they never did, not really.

No, they ripened and festered in the dark.

"I don't think that's changing any time soon." The words were hard, but Yamato spoke them as gently as he could. He was likely as frustrated as Takeru, but soothing him was more important than expressing as much.

Takeru sighed. "Alright. No point arguing with you about what they do. So, what did they say?"

"They said they have country homes in Hakone, and invited us to spend breaks there together. They also said that you can transfer to a school here whenever you'd like."

"Why the sudden interest in having me around?"

Yamato gripped the receiver so hard that his hand ached. He spent the day agonizing over telling Takeru the truth about their time in Autun. What if it frightened or burdened him? What if fear of a threat that no longer existed caused him to surrender the fleeting freedom of life in Autun? Worse yet, what if those fears weren't so inconsequential, after all?

That last thought shattered Yamato's control. His free hand dug into Roncier's fur, and the dog whined. "Takeru- Takeru, we were hostages to the peace. That's why we were sent to Autun as children."

What followed wasn't quite silence; Takeru's breathing was like staggered thunder. Yamato bent forward, pressing his face to Roncier's neck. He wanted to comfort Takeru, but what could he do? Words wouldn't come, and they were so far apart.

Toneless, almost trance-like, Takeru murmured, "I think we knew, deep down. Even as we kept asking, hoping for a different answer."

Yamato ripped the receiver away from his face and expelled a frustrated, furious noise that he could neither name nor suppress. Then, hands shaking as much as his voice, he returned the receiver and said, "I'm sorry. Maybe you should have come with me, after all…"

"I should have." The bitterness in Takeru's voice arrested Yamato. He had wondered if his brother would blame him for encouraging him to stay behind. Convincing Takeru to secure the remainder of his time as a student, rather than a prince, was worth some fallout; or at least, that's what he told himself. Now that the fallout was at hand, he wasn't so sure.

Damaging his relationship with Takeru was an absolute worst-case scenario. Reeling, he jabbered, "I, I'm sorry. If I hadn't asked you to stay-"

"What? Onii-chan, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself." Takeru's bafflement quickly soured to frustration. "I should be supporting you, not playing around here while you're struggling."

"What- Takeru-" Catching himself sputtering, Yamato went silent. He glared at the flames, as if they were at fault for his brother's nonsense. "Dealing with training for the crown here is my job. Finishing your education without this mess hanging over you is yours."

And, in the snottiest tone imaginable, his brother retorted, "Oh? And are you already king, Your Majesty, deciding what my job is for me?"

"I- Gods- What?" The fire blurred into an orange, shifting smear. Even under normal circumstances, talking to Takeru was a risk for mental whiplash, but this was a peerless conversational leap. "You're not finished your schooling. That comes first. It's just... chronological."

"I can complete my schooling just as well in Nagano. If I'm there, I can help you in my free time."

"We don't get much free time, and we'll get less as we age. If you want to help me after you graduate, we can discuss that then-"

"We won't!" Grimacing, Yamato pulled the receiver away from his ear, stunned by Takeru's volume. "You're just kicking the argument down the road! You've decided that you want to protect me from our royal duties, but I decided that I'm accepting them, same as you. I'm helping you, Onii-chan."

Frustration nearly choked Yamato. "Why? I'm trying so hard to give you a more normal life-"

"Like our parents?"

Shock rendered Yamato mute, and briefly obscured the pain. He was just beginning to grasp what it cost his parents to give their children and their country better lives. Simultaneously, he learned more about the volatile situation he was thrust into, simply by being born. Love and duty, hope and sacrifice. He truly could not say what he would have done in his parents' position.

But he hoped he would have found a way to keep his relationship with his children intact, even if they were physically apart. He hoped he would give them some say in their own lives.

Yamato's eyes stung. Gutted and heart sore, he let them run. "Alright," he breathed, defeated. "You're right. If you want to study here, that's up to you. Just know that the nobility will swarm you, and you might be asked to take on royal duties or additional training."

"I'll talk to Auntie first," Takeru said, referring to Gisele, the Queen of Autun. "And I'll call our parents. I won't shove you in the middle, like they did."

Will they take your call? Yamato kept the stray thought to himself. Their parents rarely returned phone calls during his childhood, opting to send letters instead. Yamato struggled with feeling ignored and unwanted then, and still did. He at least understood now that this distant behavior was caused by the time difference, their royal duties, and likely guilt-based avoidance. But the actions of his parents were beyond his control, so he dropped the matter and asked, "Are you sure it's safe to talk to Aunt Gisele?"

Takeru blew a raspberry, which was usually obnoxious. Right now, it signaled a return to normalcy, and Yamato grinned. "Please. I'm the light of Auntie's eye. I'm not in any danger, so don't worry. And anyway, I'll be home as soon as I can settle everything with Lyon and Nagano Universities."

"This… isn't home," Yamato warned. Maybe there was still a way to distance Takeru from Nagano, even if he returned to Hakone. "Consider a university further from the capital. It could help you avoid... All of this." He deserved a reward for his restraint in avoiding coarse language- 'this bullshit' would have been far more descriptive and satisfying.

"I'll go where I'll go," Takeru replied, so cheerfully that Yamato winced. He heard the actual statement: Back the heck off, brother. His head pounded. How the hell was he supposed to navigate this? Was there a way to keep Takeru away from Nagano without damaging their relationship?

When the door to the study opened, Yamato jerked towards it, glaring. Jyou stood in the portal, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. He froze and held a hand up, palm out, like a victim at gunpoint. Sighing, Yamato nodded and attempted to ease up on the frowning. "I'm talking to Takeru," he said for Jyou's benefit. Then, for Takeru's, "Jyou just came in."

"Ah, pardon me. I'll come back later."

"Hi, Jyou-san! Aniki, put him on-"

Yamato blinked, overwhelmed by holding two conversations. "Sit," he said, patting the spot beside him. Roncier cocked his head; he was already lying down. Still, he stood and sat, ever obedient.

"No," Yamato sighed. "Wait- I mean, good boy-"

"Good boy, Jyou-san," Takeru quipped, but Yamato ignored him.

"Have a seat, Jyou." Jyou cocked an eyebrow, but sat. Yamato rearranged the phone cord and held the receiver between them, then released Roncier from the sit command and patted his head. "I wanted to tell you both something. Jyou's right here, Takeru."

"Hi, Jyou-san! How are you holding up? It must be hard, keeping Aniki in line."

"You have no idea," Jyou groaned. "How are things in Lyon?"

"Oh, the usual. But let's listen to Aniki before he bursts a blood vessel."

Yamato fixed a deadpan stare on Jyou, who grinned, damn him. "Good point. Yamato, what's on your mind?"

Pissed, emotionally worn, and one million percent done with everyone who wasn't his dog, Yamato snapped, "Our parents want me to marry."

Takeru's background snickering broke off. Jyou blinked, then adjusted his glasses. "Ah. Well, that does make sense, but..."

"Have you even dated anyone, Aniki?" Takeru's blunt delivery made Jyou snort, then slap a hand to his mouth to hide his expression.

Glaring, Yamato replied, "I'm single. And I can't think of many things worse than being paraded to available nobles as a potential husband."

"Wow, you, married? I can't even imagine it! What kind of person could, ah..."

"Takeru," Yamato growled. Jyou's shoulders shook, and his hand still covered his mouth.

"I'm teasing," Takeru replied. "Anyone would be lucky to have you. I love you the most, so I know! I'll help you deal with this when I come to Nagano."

Jyou finally stopped snickering, thank the gods. "Wait, are you coming here?"

"Apparently," Yamato drawled.

"It makes sense," was Takeru's bright response. "I imagine our parents want Aniki to marry so they have more royalty to spread duties between. I can help with that, especially once I graduate."

"That's... reasonable." Jyou looked to Yamato with an arched eyebrow, clearly wanting his opinion. Yamato grimaced, making his stance clear.

"Speaking of classes, I have to go," Takeru said. "But you can call me any time, and I'll return it when I can. Don't worry about weddings, Aniki. I'll stand in your corner when I get there."

"Thanks," Yamato sighed. He wasn't reassured, but it was funny to imagine his parents dealing with their younger son on the warpath. Let them know what they birthed.

The men exchanged goodbyes. Yamato placed the receiver on the cradle with the air of a man handling an explosive.

"Are you alright?" Jyou asked, patting his back. Yamato grunted.

"I was sure I wanted him to stay in Autun," he sighed. "But now... I don't know, maybe it is best if he comes to Nagano. At least I know the palace guards will defend him, if needed."

"It won't be needed," Jyou soothed. "And when it comes to Takeru's life, what he wants is more important than what you want."

"I know. I just worry that he doesn't truly understand what he's choosing, what the price is." Yamato had always tried to bear their royal burden on his own, accepting his role as crown prince from a young age. But now, he wondered if he had shielded Takeru too much. If he didn't know how tedious and stressful their duties were, then he couldn't have the wisdom to maintain a healthy distance from them.

"Maybe he does," Jyou murmured. "Maybe he decided you're worth it."

And suddenly, Yamato couldn't look at Jyou. He glared into the fire once more, but his expression kept softening, despite his best efforts to appear grumpy. "Who knows what he's thinking," he deflected at last. "But can I ask your advice about the marriage subject?"

"Are they forcing it?" Jyou asked. Yamato shook his head.

"It sounds highly encouraged, but not mandatory- yet. It might be best to get ahead of it, rather than waiting for my parents to get impatient."

"Were you close to any girls in Nagano before you moved?"

"When I was ten?" Yamato snorted. "Not romantically. I suppose I remember a few?"

"Do you prefer women? Takeru's right; you haven't dated much, not that I know of. And a royal marriage would have to produce heirs..."

Yamato shrugged. "I'd have to marry a woman." Which was accurate, and saved him from admitting that he didn't know nearly as much about himself as he would like when it came to romance.

Jyou drew a deep breath, the first sign that he was calling upon his patience. "Are you opposed to the idea?"

Yamato crossed his arms, thinking. "Marriage and children? I... don't think so? What I'm opposed to is being forced before I'm ready, and marrying for duty."

"Then you should consider looking for a bride," Jyou said. "Before one is chosen for you."

"Let me just consult the catalog," Yamato retorted. What was the point of confiding in Jyou if he was just going to point out the obvious?!

"You're being sarcastic, but that is an option. I imagine most women of suitable age and status would at least consider the idea. Were you interested in any Autun noblewomen?"

Yamato nearly spat out a refusal, but begrudgingly, he allowed that Jyou had a point. He huffed, then leaned back into the sofa. "There were plenty of attractive women, but... I can't say I was particularly interested."

Jyou hesitated. "I know the local nobility better than you do. I can tell you whom I think might make a good partner, but I don't know your tastes."

Join the club. "Maybe I should try to meet women our age, but not as potential matches. Just in the way I'm already meeting nobles."

Jyou sank forward, until he was hunched over his lap, propped up with his elbows on his knees. "I know you can handle yourself, but when the time comes to meet potential brides... Please, be careful."

Yamato uncrossed his arms and looked at Jyou at last, arrested by the concern in his voice and the weariness of his posture. "What do you mean?"

This time, it was Jyou gazing resolutely away from him. "Some people will seize any chance to marry upward, regardless of how they feel about their spouse. Not everyone, of course... But enough people to worry about it."

"Why do you say that?"

Jyou's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "You can't get much more noble than a Kido- present company excluded, obviously. I've seen it happen to aunts, uncles, cousins... Even my brother. It's... awful."

"Why don't I know about that? Shin-san or Shuu-san? Is he okay?" Yamato wasn't close with Jyou's brothers, as they rarely came to Autun. But Jyou loved them, and they seemed like good people. That was enough for Yamato to care- not that he'd say so.

Jyou shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Fortunately, we discovered the lady's true motives before the relationship progressed too far. There was no need to bother you with it. Just know that there are people who will marry you to be queen, even if they don't personally like you, let alone love you."

Jyou smiled, but the space between his eyebrows was deeply crinkled. Watching Jyou put up a front pissed him off- or was that worry, rising despite Yamato's attempt to choke it out with anger? He clenched his knee hard, focusing on the discomfort instead of his raging feelings. Yelling at Jyou because he was picking and choosing what to say would hardly encourage him to confide in him. Logically, Yamato knew that. Emotionally...

Well, emotional control wasn't his strong suit at the best of times, and these last few weeks were not his best times. We're supposed to be friends! You're almost all I have! Why the hell would you keep something from me instead of asking me for help?!

The words clogged his throat, but… Jyou still wore that vulnerable smile. This was the moment to indulge Jyou's feelings, not his, even if he was a breath away from snapping. Yamato drew a long breath from the diaphragm, then transferred his hand from his knee to Jyou's. "Are you alright?"

Jyou's stiff smile warmed, and he straightened, no longer doubled over. "It… was a long time ago. I just don't want to see you go through the same thing. Maybe you should think about what you want in a partner and a marriage? It might help you avoid a situation like that."

"How the hell would I know?" Yamato sighed. "I haven't lived with a married couple since I was ten, and my parents aren't..." He paused, considering. Although Jyou was a safe confidant, it wasn't wise to comment on his parents' marriage. "Their arrangement works for them, but it isn't what I want."

Jyou nodded, all business. "Knowing what you don't want is useful. What about their marriage do you like and dislike?"

"They work together well, with equal commitment. That's important for a partnership, right?"

"Someone with genuine love for Hakone, then, and with good work ethic." Jyou nodded his approval, and Yamato cracked a wry smile. He wouldn't have guessed that he and Jyou shared preferences for their potential romantic partners, and was unsure how to feel about that.

"But then... I also want..." What could he say? He knew what attraction felt like, and surely, he knew what love was. Love reassured him when Jyou entered the room, triggered acute panic when he imagined Takeru in danger, and balanced him when Roncier nudged his hand with his snout. Still, it was difficult to imagine someone new joining his family, and even more so to hazard what romance might feel like. How did a person shift from stranger to beloved?

But having more people to love and trust… Yamato would sooner exchange blows than admit it, but he was closer to needing that than wanting it, especially since uprooting himself to return to Hakone. And to have a partner, someone to entwine his life with…

"I understand," Jyou murmured. "I want that, too."

Yamato didn't bother confirming that Jyou really understood. If he said he did, then he did. "Hard to find time to seek it out."

"Hard to know the person's intentions."

Something welled up inside Yamato, sad and lost and a little frightened. He freed it with a huff of frazzled laughter. "Everything feels hard right now. Do you think I did the right thing with Takeru? Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that we were hostages. Maybe he should stay where he is-"

Jyou grabbed his shoulder, hard. Startled, Yamato turned to him. His gaze was firm, but kind in a way that made tears burn in Yamato's eyes. "Maybe you should have more confidence in your brother- and in yourself. I know you hate to admit it, but you're the one who needs help right now, with all of this going on."

A treacherous tear leaked free, pushed out by frustration rather than tenderness. "It's my job to protect Takeru! I'm supposed to handle this, so he doesn't have to worry about it!"

"Takeru is twenty-three, Yamato. Your job isn't to protect him anymore; it's to be his family, and to let him be yours." Nothing about Jyou suggested aggression or condescension. He looked serious and earnest, every bit the well-dressed, reasonable adviser- except that the concern in his eyes was that of a friend.

Yamato stood so quickly that Roncier flinched. "I'm going to the garden," he nearly growled. Usually, a hasty retreat was an opportunity to calm down, to avoid escalating while his emotions were high. But tonight, Yamato wasn't stomping off to prevent an argument.

He was leaving because Jyou was right.

The truth of his words, the weight of them, was nearly physical, but he wasn't ready to accept it- not yet. Being the older brother, the protector, gave Yamato purpose. If he wasn't accepting his duties in the name of sparing Takeru, then his whole life… It was merely unwanted tasks thrust upon him at birth. How could he accept that?!

"Shall I go to my study?" Jyou asked. Roncier moved to Yamato's side, heading towards the open doors to the garden. Yamato paused in the threshold, one foot in the study, one on the veranda outside, both hands on Roncier, seeking the comfort of his solidness and warmth.

"No. Stay. Just... give me a minute." Already, his fury was waning. He sounded as goddamned lost as he felt.

"Alright. I've got reports to read, so I'm turning on the lights." And with that, Jyou opened his briefcase. Yamato managed a weary grin, amused and comforted. Jyou knew that Yamato was mad at the situation, not at him. Yamato knew that Jyou mentioned the reports to indicate that he could occupy himself until Yamato was ready, not to ignore his feelings.

Yamato stepped into the cool night, distraught and unsettled, but aware that support was at hand.

XXX

Sora sat on the low sofa in her living room, contemplating the phone on the side table. There was no reason not to call her father, who would enjoy hearing from her, no doubt. But somehow... Somehow, she was hesitant to do so.

She gazed about the room, as if for guidance, or at least distraction. It featured a low table surrounded by floor cushions, a console table bearing a phonograph record player and an ikebana arrangement, and an expensive standing radio gifted to her by Mimi. The sage green walls featured her favorite pieces from the family collection, mostly photographs of ancestors and watercolor art. Plants filled the empty spaces, particularly near windows. Though there weren't many objects in the room, the growing things gave it life.

As time passed with no movement or resolution, Sora's irritation mounted. She seized the receiver and dialed the number to her father's quarters, currently housing for visiting academics at a prestigious university specializing in history and folklore. An operator connected them, and then, her father's voice filled her ear. "Good evening, Takenouchi Haruhiko speaking."

"Papa!" Sora beamed in the stillness of the room, all strain forgotten. She picked up the framed photograph of her parents on the side table. Haruhiko had friendly black eyes, a firm jaw, a prominent nose, and brown hair in the process of graying. Her mother said his face had character, which Sora understood to mean that viewers were divided on whether they found him attractive. Haruhiko wasn't the type to worry about that, and to Sora, his face was the finest in the world. Still smiling, she put the photo back and angled it towards her.

His voice softened and warmed. "Sora! Oh, but it's good to hear from you! How are you?"

"I'm great!" Sora said, because she suddenly was. "How is your research going?"

"It's been amazing! Investigating the nearby shrines and the art stored for preservation has been a revelation. I've started interviewing locals about the regional lore using new information we've gleaned-"

Sora cozied into her sofa and blanket and reached for the mug of tea on the side table. Her father went on for quite some time, but she didn't mind. His enthusiasm was endearing, and if he was happy, so was she.

"But enough of my dusty research," Haruhiko laughed at last. "How is the café?"

It was Sora's turn to monologue about work, her friends, the activity surrounding the prince's arrival, and the prince himself. Haruhiko provided all the appropriate reactions, even exclaiming when the prince's identity was revealed. But when Sora paused, all caught up on the latest news, Haruhiko pivoted with, "How is your mother?"

And, just like that, the worries that plagued her all day returned. Sora's mouth set in a tight line. "Mother is... she's fine. I saw her this morning."

"Oh dear. What happened?" Haruhiko had the resigned air of a man who knew exactly what he was getting into.

Sora nibbled her lower lip. "Papa..."

"Hmm…" His pitch rose and fell, almost like humming, indicating that he was deep in thought. "Did she ask you about the marriage candidates?"

Startled, Sora cried, "How-"

"We've been talking about it. I asked her to wait until I come home to ask if you want to meet them, but... Well, it's been weighing on her mind."

Holding back a tsk took enormous effort. Haruhiko often mediated between Toshiko and Sora. Both women doted on him too much to continue butting heads when he gently interceded, but he was often away on research trips. They rarely argued these days, not openly at least, as they did when she was a child. But that didn't mean things were calm between them.

"The ikebana school is always on her mind." The bitterness in her voice made Sora wince. Haruhiko married her mother for love. She tried to remember that when her frustrations with Toshiko came up in conversation with him, but whom else could she talk to about this? Toshiko was the iemoto, a personage of nobility and skill who commanded respect.

"Sora... It's true that your mother prioritizes the Takenouchi school. But she's always lived at home, at least. I prioritize my job, too, and I spend more time traveling for work than at home, but you never seemed to resent me for that."

Haruhiko's voice had that gentle, soothing tone that made his desire to help painfully obvious. His words incited fury, but Sora couldn't respond to his warmth with anger. She clawed for command over her riled, hurt feelings. "It's different," she managed at last. "All you want from me is my happiness. Of course I support yours, and you give me your attention when you come home. But Mother… Papa, she only even talks to me if we're having a lesson, or if, if she needs something for, for the family."

That moment of vulnerability was all it took to shatter Sora's strained control. She covered her mouth with a palm, desperate to smother her violent crying.

"Sora," Haruhiko murmured.

"S-s-sorry-"

"No, sweetheart. If you need to cry, cry. I'll stay with you."

The only response Sora could give was a wet, broken sob. She dropped the receiver on the end table and held her face with both hands. The crying fit seemed to go on forever, but in reality, it was intense and short, like a summer storm. It passed not because she calmed, but because her body couldn't keep up. Soon, she was flushed, with stinging eyes and a battered core. Exhausted, her thoughts and feelings fuzzy and dull, Sora went to the kitchen. She cleaned her face at the sink and drank a cup of water. By the time she returned to the phone, she was embarrassed and drained, but reasonably steady.

"H-hi," she muttered.

"Hello, sweetheart. Can you tell me what's on your mind?"

Sora sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was complain, act like a spoiled child, or insult her mother to her father. She already regretted letting her feelings be known, but she was far too exhausted to navigate avoiding the question. "I just feel like... You treat me like a daughter. Mother treats me like the heiress." No embellishment, no drama. Just a bald statement of how she felt.

"Ah..." Sora could almost see Haruhiko's forehead lining as he considered. "I'd be lying if I said I don't know what you mean. Even when I fell in love with Toshiko, ikebana came first for her. I love my work, too, so I admired that. But I was an adult; I understood her priorities and accepted them. A child... A child won't see things the same way."

It didn't seem possible for her face to heat up more, but somehow, it did. "I'm not a child." But maybe I'm behaving like one.

"No, of course not, but childhood impressions run deep. And you're not wrong; the Takenouchi school means everything to your mother... But so do you."

Sora made a noncommittal sound. As a child, she sometimes questioned if her mother loved her at all. Happily, she knew now that love came in many forms. If Toshiko didn't love her, then she wouldn't have funded her café, renovated the city house, or, most telling of all, allowed her to move out and start a business. If ikebana truly mattered most, then Sora would still be on the estate, with overseen daily practices from the grandmaster.

And yet, it remained true that Toshiko's love for Sora was forever linked to her carrying on the Takenouchi school and bloodline. Sora spent years telling herself that this was natural, and that she was fine with it. The tension building beneath the surface, just a difficult conversation away from erupting into tears, hinted otherwise.

"I'm sorry. I'll talk to Toshiko about the marriage, but I do want to encourage you to meet people and have fun-"

"I see people all the time!" Had Haruhiko already spoken to Toshiko? Why were they saying the same thing?! "And you work hard, too!"

"I do at that," Haruhiko agreed. "But I'm having drinks with colleagues after dinner. As for you, won't you be in bed soon? It's hard to spend time with friends when you go to bed and wake up so early."

Scowling at her Papa was rare- almost unheard of. But how could she not? Sora was sick of justifying her schedule to others- and especially to herself. It was a sacrifice. She was more aware of that than anyone.

"I want you to have whatever you want," Haruhiko continued, braving the silence. "But I worry that you're working too hard and not allowing time for yourself. I'll talk to your mother, but promise me you'll have some fun, alright?"

"I do have fun." Sora loved the café, and the community around it. But it was true that, between running the café, baking, ikebana with her mother, and her own practice, there wasn't time for much else.

"Do you want to marry and have children? I've always hesitated to ask, in case..."

In case the answer is no, because I'm not getting a choice. Out of love, Sora kept that bitter truth to herself. "I do... But it's hard to imagine being a wife and mother. The days already feel so full."

Haruhiko's frazzled laugh might have indicated relief. If she wanted children, then he didn't have to feel as guilty. "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's always hard, but people manage. Becoming a parent causes lifestyle changes, though."

Sora tensed from head to toe. "Oh?" The café was only about a year old. She wasn't ready to step down as the manager or a baker. Besides, she already had the obligation of the Takenouchi school hanging over her. How could she fit a child into all of that?

"Things change," Haruhiko said, so reasonably that Sora wanted to groan. "Things will change at the café, too. Most of your workers and customers are students, right? University is a transitory stage. People will come and go, including employees."

Sora swallowed hard. She already knew that, any day, one of the employees she had come to love could move on, whether because of graduating, changing schools, or even shifts in their course loads. The atmosphere she loved so much was fragile and fleeting.

"It's difficult, but we always have to know what we want most. We can't hold on to everything. Accepting the fleetingness of every aspect of our lives is one of the hardest things about being human."

By now, Sora's silence was edging on insolence, but what could she say? Brushing off her mother's words was one thing, but her papa's... His tone was conversational, but he had to be worried. He wouldn't bring this up, otherwise.

Was her current lifestyle bad for her, or unsustainable? Was the café her dream, or was she merely trying to build something, anything for herself, independent of the Takenouchi name? But how could she become independent while relying on family resources? If she could pay back her debt to her mother, then maybe she could feel self-reliant. But that would take years; the lot alone was worth an astronomical sum.

Was building a comfortable gathering place her dream, or was it the abstract, elusive idea of freedom?

Wanting guidance, and needing to ask questions instead of being asked for a change, Sora said, "What did you give up when you married mother?"

Haruhiko's dark chuckle failed to reassure. "You got me. I didn't sacrifice anything- but your mother surely did."

Sora twitched, startled. From her perspective, Toshiko had everything she wanted- except, of course, a more compliant child. "Because Grandmother Fumiko didn't approve the match?"

"Just so."

"But your family is noble," Sora pointed out. "And regardless, you took the Takenouchi name."

"Everyone who marries into an iemoto family takes the iemoto name, unless their family is somehow more noble."

Sora sighed. She had a long day- a difficult meeting with her mother, pressure over marriage, a crying fit, and now… whatever this was. "Noble is noble."

"You know that's not true." Again, he laughed with no humor, a strange sound from her doting papa. "Nobles can split hairs about exactly where they stand in a hierarchy all day. Do you know the common rating methods?"

Sora shrugged. She didn't pay attention to such things, which was part personality and part privilege. When you were often the most noble personage in the room, you rarely worried about how you compared to others. "How far back you can trace your line?"

"True. For example, my noble blood comes from two generations ago, when the youngest daughter of a noble family married my common born grandfather, who was well off from business success. That kind of nobility was barely worth notice to your grandmother, the direct descendant of generations of Takenouchi grandmasters. But it's much more complicated than the history of your noble lineage."

Usually, Sora was pleased to listen to her father's lecture-like ramblings (which was favorable, given how often they occurred). But this subject was loathsome, especially with the task of continuing the Takenouchi lineage hovering over her. She scrounged deep for a faint, "Oh?"

"Even a family with a lofty line of noble forebears can be looked down upon if they lack power."

"Power?" Sora echoed. "Money, you mean?"

"They often go hand-in-hand, yes, but I'm talking about influence. Politics, most often- and of course, politicians are all nobles looking out for noble interests. But there's also sway with other nobles, and access to their resources through that sway. Nobles own or hold high positions at many institutions, businesses, or resource managing facilities, so knowing the right person can help your children attend the most prestigious schools, for example. If someone proposes marriage into a noble family, the family will assess what the candidate can give them: a noble lineage, political sway, resources, and respect or prestige, which all iemoto families possesses. Sadly, I offered next to nothing to the Takenouchis."

Hoping to avoid a repeat of a story she had already heard today, Sora said, "So Grandmother made a contract saying Mother could marry you in return for becoming the iemoto and producing an heir."

"That's right."

"But Mother wanted to become grandmaster." Sora didn't want to argue with her father, but she failed to see what her mother sacrificed to have her. In fact, it seemed the other way around: Sora was born so that Toshiko could marry for love and accept a position she wanted, regardless.

This time, Haruhiko's laugh was genuine humor. "I suspect you won't want to hear this- Toshiko wouldn't have at your age- but you're far, far more like your mother than you know. When we met, Toshiko was devoted to ikebana, but frustrated with her situation. She wanted to make her own decisions and live on her own terms, even though she was interested in her duties. So her choice of husband was nonnegotiable. She said she had to be able to choose this much."

As Haruhiko guessed, his claim thoroughly annoyed Sora, whose tone grew testy. "I don't follow. It sounds like Mother got everything she wanted."

"She did," Haruhiko agreed. "Because she fought for it. Your grandmother was staunchly against the match, and when her husband passed, leaving only herself and Toshiko to carry the Takenouchi name, she began pressuring her and presenting suitors. That was a difficult period for Toshiko, who defied her mother to be with me. And when you were born..."

A murky, nauseous feeling spread in Sora's gut, which she identified as dread. "She had to have me, because of the contract." An exchange, a means to an end.

"Don't think for a second that you were an obligation," Haruhiko said, with a fierceness Sora had never heard from him. "True, we felt young and unready when we had you, but from the moment we first saw you... There was no doubt that we did the right thing. The best thing we had ever done."

"Papa... Really?" Sora's eyes and mind glazed over. Everything was too complicated! She trusted that Haruhiko wouldn't lie to her, but could he really speak for her mother? She wanted, so desperately, to believe him, but years of hurt and uncertainty left her guarded.

"I've never been more serious. We adore you, always have, always will, but the family situation was… complex. Toshiko took strong issue with the way your grandmother treated you." He hesitated, likely unwilling to speak poorly of the dead. It was taboo in their culture, even more so for someone who revered folk stories, the passage of information from one generation to the next. The dead were the font of tradition.

"Grandmother was a dignified and capable woman," Sora supplied, trying to help her father along, "but she wasn't warm. I never knew her well, even though we lived in the same house."

"That's fair," Haruhiko agreed. "She was extremely invested in the Takenouchi lineage, and frightened, I think, of how little of it remained alive, especially when her husband passed. She loved you more than you know, but... Even as a baby, she pushed that fear and pressure onto you."

Sora's eyes slid to an old photograph on the wall. It depicted Grandmother Fumiko as a child, practically propped up by a formal kimono, bent over an ikebana piece. Her father, the grandmaster at the time, sat beside her, guiding her hand. Sora wasn't sure what led her to select that photograph, but suspected that it had to do with the warmth on her great-grandfather's face.

"I remember," she murmured. "She passed when I was young, but..."

The Takenouchi household had staff to feed, clean, and babysit Sora as a child. Her only interactions with her grandmother were ikebana centered- and Fumiko was a strict teacher, even to so young a pupil.

"Teaching you ikebana early was a given. But lecturing you about your duties while you were learning to speak... Toshiko felt that her mother was being heavy-handed about your role in the family. They constantly argued over that. She wanted you to be a child for as long as you could."

The room Sora had decorated herself and lived in for a year was unrecognizable. Her brain couldn't process a thing. Bewildered, toneless, she muttered, "I didn't know."

"We made sure you didn't."

Later, Sora would surely pick apart everything Haruhiko told her about Toshiko defending her as a child. For now, she would rather hear and think about anything else. "I don't remember seeing you with Grandmother much."

"She never warmed up to me, I'm afraid," Haruhiko replied. Sora could almost see his rueful grin and the glitter of mischief in his eyes. "It's partially my fault. Although your grandmother agreed to our marriage and accepted you as heir, she never welcomed me as part of the family."

Anger simmered, a relief from her overwhelmed daze. "But you were family!"

"It came back to nobility. I was mostly ignored on the Takenouchi estate, and openly snubbed by nobility at formal functions above my status. So... When the opportunity arose to travel for work, I took it. In a way, I'm grateful. The situation pushed me to follow my passions of research and travel, although... I have to apologize to you, Sora. At the time, I thought making myself scarce was keeping the peace. Now, I wish... I wish I had stayed and advocated for you more, instead of leaving that to your mother."

There was a twang in Sora's chest. Her father wasn't home much during her early years, although he traveled far less after her grandmother passed. Somehow, she hadn't put two and two together until now. "Don't blame yourself. I don't know if Grandmother would have listened."

A long pause followed, likely Haruhiko struggling to express himself without speaking poorly of his mother-in-law. "Your mother and I won't do the same to you. We agreed on that a long time ago."

"Thank you." Sora knew he meant to reassure her, but instead, new worries sprouted, weeds shooting up, outpacing sense, devouring the precious light of her thoughts. She hadn't realized how difficult navigating a family under these conditions might be. What if the person she fell for wasn't noble enough, or able to have a child with her? What if her mother pressured her child the way her grandmother did, despite her best intentions?

What if Sora participated in that pressure, as well?

She knew from experience that the 'what if' game was never-ending, and far more anxiety-inducing than useful. Far better to be helpful to her father, if she could. "I'm glad you're able to do what you want, Papa. Don't feel bad about it. I only wish I knew what I want."

"Give yourself time and space to think of that," Haruhiko urged. "The more you understand your wants and convictions, the better able you'll be to advocate for them."

Sora's eyes were inflamed from crying; pain erupted as they watered again. She was too spent to even know what she was feeling. How was she supposed to discuss high level concepts? "I, I don't know what I want."

"Oh, sweetheart... You've never been asked what you want, only told what you will do. I wish that weren't the case, but... Please. Take time for yourself. Allow yourself to want."

"I, I don't know if that's possible. Even now, when I'm living on my own and running a business, I'm using Takenouchi resources..."

"There's nothing wrong with blooming where you're planted, or with drifting on the wind to a new spot. It's what nature does."

Sora worried her lower lip with her front teeth. It felt as though she couldn't do either. If she bloomed here, giving her all to the café, she would be uprooted when her mother stepped down as iemoto. If she braved the sky or sea like a seed in search of rich soil...

That was what she wanted most, and was least able to have.

Freedom. I want freedom, without knowing what that means, without being willing to risk anything. Heart sore and frustrated, Sora shut her eyes, willing herself not to cry.

"Sora, I have to go, and it's near your bedtime. I'm sorry things are difficult. Will you be alright?"

"Yes, Papa." As much as Sora wanted to have her father on the line, she needed space to calm down, to feel, to think. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Take care."

Sora murmured a farewell, then placed the receiver on the cradle. She stared, dazed, around the silent room. Duty, nobility, freedom, family, love. There was too much in her mind and heart, too many powerful, emotionally volatile concepts, a warring mass of inseparable realities.

Eventually, Sora realized that she could make no progress tonight, as worn and raw as she was. It was time to sleep, then wake up early tomorrow.

But as she went to bed, the nagging knowledge that tomorrow would be too busy to allow time for thinking tickled the back of her mind.

Author's Note: Now that this surprise chapter is complete, we're back on our every other week update system, yay! This chapter is ENORMOUS, and I worked so hard on it, so please do let me know what you think! It's a pleasure to see you again, I hope you're doing well 3 Thanks for reading!