Puits d'Amour

The Inventor, Pt 1

Yamato looked up from the papers on the desk when Jyou entered his study, carrying two steaming mugs. "Tea?"

"Thank you." Jyou placed a mug on a coaster by Yamato's elbow, then patted Roncier as he passed his dog bed. He sat on the leather sofa by the fireplace and reached for the briefcase he left there earlier.

A comforting aroma wafted from the tea. Flames lit the fireplace, warming the room and providing a cozy ambiance and the lovely scent of burning wood. The various chirps and clicks of evening insects sounded beyond the sliding doors to the garden, and wind chimes hanging outside the doors tinkled. All evidence pointed to the evening being perfectly charming, but Yamato felt restless, cooped up.

It seemed like they would fall into a typical night of work, Jyou with his medical papers and Yamato with his political briefings. Or rather, that's what he should have been doing. As if reading his mind, Jyou commented, "That didn't look like an official document."

Yamato turned his chair towards the middle of the room, to better scowl at Jyou. His friend was shuffling through papers in his briefcase, and lacked the decency to acknowledge his glaring. "Looked like a letter," Jyou continued. Yamato tsked and made a show of capping his fountain pen and setting it on the desk.

"I'm writing Takeru."

"Oh? Does he have a date for coming here?"

Yamato sighed. "If he does, he hasn't mentioned it. I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up without warning for the fun of it."

Jyou's soft laugh failed to improve Yamato's mood. "I could see that. Who knows how long it will take him to work things out between Lyon and Nagano universities-"

"Or if he'll bother to," Yamato muttered darkly.

Jyou shuddered. "Don't say that! He knows education is important. Regardless, it's about time you wrote him. He must be angry that it took you so long, especially after giving me all those surprise letters for you."

Yamato tried and failed to ignore a jab of guilt. "I didn't have anything to write about. Nothing worth reading, anyway."

Jyou closed the briefcase with a faint snap and looked up. Though he smiled and seemed alert, Yamato suspected that he was tired. His posture was poor, and his expressions weren't as animated as usual. "Nothing but complaints, you mean."

"I can work in some complaints about you," Yamato retorted.

If his goal was to ruffle Jyou, then he was sorely disappointed. "I'd be worried if you didn't. We're friends, after all."

"Which is why you came here," Yamato tartly replied. "To needle your friend."

It was brief, but Jyou managed a weary smile. "I did bring you tea."

Though he was unmoved, Yamato took a sip and decided to let it go. The taste was exquisite, the warmth soothing. The evenings weren't cold yet, but the world felt less summery, somehow.

Jyou's gaze diverted as a pause dragged on. He seemed to be casting about for a conversation topic, which was unlike him. While he wasn't an outstanding conversationalist in the sense of entertaining others, commanding a room, or always knowing the best thing to say, Jyou was strong in the art of friendly chatter. "You're writing about Café du Ciel?"

Yamato nodded. "Particularly about Sora-san and Wallace-kun. What did you think of the place?"

Jyou's fingertips trailed along his chin as he considered. "It's amazing that so many children of potentially influential people are corralled there. I was skeptical, but now I see the strategy of visiting."

Yamato paused, struggling to control a surge of frustration. At this hour, he was no longer thinking like a prince. His mindset was that of a brother writing home and a friend wanting to chat. But Yamato was all of those things and more, at all times, and he wouldn't be much of a friend if he snapped at Jyou for answering his question. "I can't say that isn't part of it. But... Well, what did you think of the place itself, beyond political strategy?"

"Hm..." Jyou paused, tearing his gaze away from his papers. The focus in his eyes hinted that he sensed Yamato's mood was churning. "I think it felt... Cozy. Everyone seemed to get along, and there was a lovely homeyness to the place."

"Mm." And though he was loathe to say so, that's exactly what Yamato needed. He gazed around the study. It was a handsome room in a style leaning towards Hakone sensibilities, with other various influences. He couldn't complain about anything, other than the lack of the seaside view from his Autun suite. And yet... It wasn't home. It felt like a hotel, like someone would remind him to check out tomorrow or demand their space back. "It's more comfortable than the palace, somehow."

"It does feel a bit strange here, doesn't it?" Jyou said, his tone and expression sympathetic. "And you're sensitive to that kind of thing."

"What do you mean?" Yamato asked, with more annoyance than intended.

Jyou shrugged, refusing once again to be bothered. "You're sensitive to places and things. It might take a while for you to shift into thinking of this as home."

And again, irritation rose- although Yamato had no idea if it was aimed at Jyou, for poking a sore spot, or at himself, for having that sore spot. "Do you have that problem?"

"I don't seem to, not as much as the next person. I went wherever you did for years, sharing spaces with you or being assigned whatever personal space was available. And I spent more time at the Kido hospital and school than I did in my family's estate, other than to sleep."

Yamato shifted in his chair. Jyou described his situation like that of a tagalong- hell, almost like Roncier's, traveling and living at the whims of his owner. He knew what it was to live with duty, dictated by ideas and beliefs of people long dead. But what was it like to live at the whims of a prince? Yamato tried to free Jyou from that lifestyle before they left Autun, and although Jyou elected to stay, he still felt guilty. "If you ever feel unsettled wherever we're living, you need to let me know-"

Jyou grinned. "I never do. How could I complain about lodgings meant for a prince? But I do think visiting places meant for everyday people is good for you, as long as it's safe."

"They aren't really everyday people," Yamato pointed out. "Sora-san is a future iemoto. Even the workers, like Wallace-kun, come from families with money. They might be everyday compared to a prince, but..."

"That's true. Which reminds me..." Jyou's gaze averted as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you getting along alright with Ichijouji-kun?"

Yamato turned to his desk and stared at his handwriting on the thick paper, the high quality kind that Takeru enjoyed so much. If he wrote slowly, carefully, he could work through his ideas. Speaking them was more volatile, more vulnerable. Could he put his complex thoughts and emotions in order quickly enough to speak of them?

"I liked him at first," Yamato began. "He spoke to me like a person, but also followed the guidelines of his job. But as we started spending more time together..." He tapped his fountain pen against the paper. How could he say this?

"He's awfully free with his opinions," Jyou offered, a bit stiffly.

"Mm. And I liked that. You and Takeru are the only people who talk to me that way, but then..."

"We both have lifelong relationships behind it."

Frustrated, Yamato jerked a hand through his hair. "But I can't say I want people to treat me with familiarity, then demand a lifetime of friendship behind it. I'll only ever have that with you two. How am I supposed to build new close relationships?"

Slowly, Jyou set aside the papers he was reading. "You're right," he said softly. "That wasn't really the problem, then."

"The problem is that he's got some kind of..." Yamato hesitated. There was an idiom that captured his meaning, but he couldn't recall from which language it came. "Chip on his shoulder," he said at last, a translation from a phrase originating from New Hope.

"I got that sense, too. Something class-based, maybe?"

"Seems that way. I spoke to my mother about him-"

Jyou winced, then slumped forward, rubbing his forehead. "I'm sorry. You asked me to look into him…"

"No." Yamato's tone was brusque, but his irritation was aimed at himself. "You're overwhelmed with your medical facility visits. You're exhausted. I shouldn't have put something trivial on you, not when I have time. I looked into it myself, like I should have from the start."

"You're a prince," Jyou protested. "And while you are comparatively free right now, you're adjusting to a new life-"

This time, Yamato didn't bother trying to hide his annoyance. "And I'm your friend, and hopefully a reasonable man. Rulers have to work harder than their reports."

Jyou smiled, likely amused by Yamato's mounting vexation- or maybe too tired to argue. "Alright, alright. What did you learn?"

"Apparently, Ichijouji-kun is from a common family with little money or standing. But he's academically gifted, particularly in math, and his parents advertised it and tried to turn him into some kind of... Prodigy? Celebrity?"

Yamato shrugged. He had no concept of the extent of Osamu's fame, since it hadn't touched Autun. "I don't know what that entailed, but someone told my parents about him. He's expected to become a leading mind of our generation, so some politician or organization sponsored his education at Nagano University. Apparently, he solved high profile proofs and led academic teams to victories while he attended. At an adviser's suggestion, the royal family is sponsoring his development. We're paying for his higher education in return for him working part time as an attendant."

"Your attendant, specifically," Jyou observed.

Yamato sighed and cradled his forehead. "Yes. It's unlikely he can become an adviser without a bloodline, but my parents' advisers seem to think he might become… A strategist? A mathematician sponsored by and indebted to the crown? Someone good to develop and have around, in short."

"Another me," Jyou murmured, stroking his chin.

Yamato shook his head. "A working relationship is encouraged, not a personal one, like ours."

"Too lowborn for that, huh," Jyou replied grimly. "Well, a ruler needs capable people he can trust. A working relationship with a capable strategist is valuable. Even if he can't become an adviser, or whatever you want to call me, royal strategist is a far more lucrative and prestigious title than most common born people could hope for."

Yamato huffed, frustrated, but unsure how to express it. "Yes, but I never had the sense that you're pulling yourself up by my bootstraps."

"By your-" Jyou's mouth hung open as he processed. "Are you combining idioms again?"

Yamato paused, scowling. "Maybe?" It was difficult to avoid, as he spoke several languages, but didn't regularly use them all. He was grateful Takeru didn't witness that slip; he'd never hear the end of it.

Jyou snorted, smothered his laughter, then tipped his head, considering. "I think you mean 'riding on your coattails.' And I know I've felt like I do that to you."

"You don't," Yamato snapped, with more force than intended. "You never have."

Jyou grinned. "Alright. But you feel that vibe from Ichijouji-kun?"

Yamato crossed his arms. "It's hard to explain. I want more friends, more people who treat me as Yamato. But it's like he leaped to that, and gets annoyed whenever it comes up that he's an employee under me."

"I noticed," was Jyou's dry response. "You said he comes from an average family. Maybe he's bitter about that."

Yamato slowly nodded. "And placing someone who was able to attend our nation's best school because of his intelligence among people of higher social standing..."

Osamu's best case scenario was to become a mathematician employed by the crown or a strategist to Yamato someday, after years of service as an attendant- a station that already seemed to chafe his pride. Both were incredible accomplishments for someone lacking in connections and status, but Osamu would have to work with people daily who commanded more sway, power, and respect than him. Some of them would be as intelligent and hardworking as him. Most would not.

"It's like he worked so hard just to stand at the window and look in," Jyou finished. "Or to see highborn people be given things he can never hope to earn. Our laws won't allow him to run for election in Parliament, for example. I can't imagine how frustrating that must be."

Yamato gazed at his letter and sighed. There was no way he could work on it now, so he stood, collected his tea, and joined Jyou on the sofa. Roncier lifted his head, wagged his tail, and moved to him, draping his head over his feet.

Yamato leaned forward to pat his dog. "Ichijouji-kun wasn't the advisers' first choice for my personal attendant, apparently."

Jyou normally didn't care about gossip, but something about Osamu seemed to irritate him. When he lifted an eyebrow and said, "Oh?" in a tone of undivided interest, Yamato grinned.

"Mm. Remember the Tachikawa's chief inventor that Ichijouji-kun mentioned?"

Jyou's mouth thinned into a flat line. "Right, the one who became chief inventor purely because he's noble-born. Or at least, that's how I interpreted 'right place, right time'."

Yamato stared. Nothing about Jyou suggested aggression, but the hardness in his eyes was rare- and concerning. It wasn't like him to analyze offhand statements. "He really got under your skin."

Suddenly, Jyou looked a bit sheepish, like a schoolboy caught misbehaving. "It's not a good look, is it? I suppose I get defensive when people imply that bloodline is all that makes a person. I've seen plenty of noble loafers, and plenty of working class successes, like the Tachikawas. I do acknowledge that we have more advantages than I'm even aware of, however."

Yamato nodded, but was unsure how to respond. He was way too removed from a working class person, let alone a poor person, to comment, so he shifted back to his story. "Mother said the advisers approached the inventor as a candidate for one of my future advisers, or at least a personal contact. His name is Izumi Koushiro, and he's apparently in his final undergraduate year, so about twenty-two or three."

The hand cupping Jyou's forehead jerked so hard that he nearly knocked his glasses off. He pressed them to his face and blurted, "What?! So young?! I assumed he was a graduate student!"

Yamato nodded. "He belongs to a semi-noble family. His mother is noble born to a family whose fortune and resources diminished over generations. His father has money, but no bloodline. He was adopted, so whether or not the nobility is acknowledged depends on the person, but the point remains that he's already a leading mind in Hakone. So much so that my parents' advisers are willing to overlook that he's only semi-noble at best to recommend him as a potential future adviser."

"What a story," Jyou replied. "And he really turned down potentially becoming part of your inner circle?"

From Jyou's perspective, being offered prestige was alluring, but Yamato understood wanting distance from royalty far too well. "The Tachikawas will fund whatever Izumi-kun wants to learn or explore, and he apparently has no interest in bringing his family political sway."

Jyou's fingers drummed against his knee as his brow furrowed. "Hmm… I doubt he's hurting for money or opportunities, but most people wouldn't turn down possible power and influence."

"My parents and their advisers thought the same. Apparently, Izumi-kun isn't most people. It seems he's much more interested in learning and inventing than he is in social climbing."

Jyou's brow furrowed. "Hmm… Is it strange that I want to meet him?"

"I do, too," Yamato admitted. "And we're in luck. Apparently, he always comes to Café du Ciel to see their part time musician play. Sora-san scheduled her later this week, now that things are calming after my arrival."

"Always?" Jyou echoed. This time, his hmm was far more telling.

Yamato grinned. "I got that impression, too- that Izumi-kun is interested in more than music. But let's leave them to their dramas and just introduce ourselves, for now."

Jyou leaned back in the sofa, arms folded. "Do you want Izumi-kun to join this... circle your parents are trying to build for you?"

Yamato scowled. He saw the value of having trustworthy people around him, and felt the lack of it. But shouldn't building his network happen organically, and by his choice? But then, Jyou was introduced to him through his parents, and Takeru too, obviously. "I… have no idea. As we're learning with Ichijouji-kun, personality is just as important as ability, or more so."

"Maybe it doesn't matter," Jyou allowed. "Sounds like he isn't interested. I still want to meet him, though."

Yamato nodded, pleased to have a reason to return to the café. "Then I'll get details from Sora-san, and we'll go."

"Alright. I'd better read this. I have meetings with traveling doctors coming into town tomorrow."

"Fair. And my letter won't write itself. But get some rest, alright?" Yamato gently extricated his feet from his dog and returned to his desk. He wasn't sure what to write before, but now his mind was buzzing, and the words flowed.

Yamato had no idea how to build the circle that would support him as king someday. But he had Takeru, so he poured his thoughts out to the self-proclaimed "good with people" half of their brotherhood.

As much as it pained him to imagine Takeru losing any freedoms, as much as he wished to be the strong, older sibling who provided support and did not ask for it… Yamato hoped Takeru would arrive soon, even if he did so in the most troublesome, bombastic way imaginable.

Which, inevitably, he would.

Author's Note: I don't know if there is a formal difference between an adviser and a strategist, but in this story, an adviser works directly with royalty. So, the adviser would talk to the strategists and report to the crown. Hence, an adviser is expected to be of a certain rank/nobility.

Next chapter is one I've been waiting for! It's time to meet Koushiro! Please look forward to it! And Odaiba Day is coming up! Please check out the story I will post, which is a canon setting oneshot about Takeru and Yamato as adults.