Chapter 3

Ai had started out confused, scared even. Now he was just tired.

The rays of the sun were not any gentler closer to their source, and its constant beams that pierced into the courtyard left Ai sweating and dizzy just halfway through the day. All rooms of the royal suite connected through the roofless area, so if Ai needed just to retrieve something from the small custodial cabinet and then return to the room he was working in, he had to slink back out into the sweltering heat of the parched day. Somehow the sun always managed to work its way underneath the walkway overhangs and into his squinting eyes.

The rooms he took care of were, although not extraordinarily large, quite lavish in their furnishings, filled with rich fabrics and dusky woods. They all looked out over a different part of the kingdom – from the indistinct mountains in the north to the endless sand in the south – as the quarters seemed to stick out away from the rest of the palace, giving it the aura of being suspended in space. Incense canisters scented the air with jasmine and rose, but served only to send Ai into a couching fit whenever he walked past. This morning he had risen early and cleaned all of them out, replacing the spices after a great deal of searching through drawers.

He had also fluffed pillows, straightened furniture, and smoothed curtains; he dusted a thing or two, carefully, as he was not sure if anything was supposed to be off limits to him. He wandered around the suite, peaking into studies and lounges and balconies, reinvestigating his own tiny servant quarters crammed up beside the prince's, who was nowhere to be found. Exhausting all exploration routes – save the master bedchamber – he found himself leaning against a column in the courtyard, feeling his skin blister from the heat, but not returning to his room for fear of seeming lazy.

The water glittered in front of Ai, smooth as a sheet of glass and reflecting the vastness of the sky. Even after walking past it for nearly a day now he still had not gotten tired of looking at it. His mind nearly exploded with thoughts of what he could do with that much water – there weren't many places where you could even access water in the palace. On top of that, this liquid was different from any of the other he had seen. It was cool, clear, still. It wasn't doing anything. All his life water had been a scarce commodity, a reward sometimes. It always had a purpose, was always being used. This water just lay there, peacefully, and it was for this difference in nature that Ai didn't scoop some into his hands and wash his face, or fill a bucket and scrub the floors. This pool was not for work.

Of course, the water was also not his. He realized that immediately. Despite the fact that not a word was spoken or a glance given, Ai completely understood. This pool belonged to the prince.

There were some things that he did not understand however.

Yesterday Ai had merely been sent back downstairs to retrieve refreshments, and soon sent yet again to transfer what little things he had to here. As he stumbled up the endless stairs a second time, nearly getting lost and falling into a military meeting on his way up, he caught sight off the prince stalking off down one of the branching hallways, seemingly having just left his quarters. He didn't turn around or notice Ai, just reached the end of the corridor before descending a lesser flight of stairs. Ai had not seen him since then, and he did not know if the man had been away all night or simply returned too late and left too early for them to run into each other.

The lack of supervision made Ai strangely uncomfortable. He was used to not being noticed, but that was only because he blended in with the crowd. There was no time to think about it either, as he had to focus on the task at hand. Here he had neither a workforce nor distinct work; he was simply supposed to stay nearby and 'serve the prince'. He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, and in any case, it was particularly hard to serve someone who wasn't present.

A complaint from his stomach snapped Ai out of his thoughts, a hand resting on the strip of bare skin between his waistband and now outgrown tunic. He hadn't dared to venture outside of these chambers at all today for fear that the prince would return while he was out, but he hadn't discovered any secret stores of food during his exploration. Breakfast had been skipped and now the effects where catching up with him, an angry gnawing starting in his belly and a dizziness drifting into his head.

Ai looked around helplessly for a moment, glancing almost pleadingly at the many doorways as if one of them would suddenly morph into a loaf of bread. With a nervous shuffle of his feet and a small sigh he made his way over to the exit, having to use all of his weight to pull the hefty golden doors open. Tugging them back into place on the other side he glanced around the circular hall, giving a look towards the set of doors opposite his. The lock was still in place there, which he assumed meant that neither the guard, nor anyone likely, was there.

He frowned, a little discouraged. He'd been half hoping that he'd spot that man again and ask him for help; he hadn't seemed too standoffish before and perhaps he knew more about Ai's new responsibilities than he did. Apparently his luck wasn't good enough for it to be that easy.

With a glance down each of the still empty hallways he scurried down the stairs, hoping to high heaven that he had memorized the way up and down by now. He still felt uneasiness traversing through the main corridors, his spine tingling with tension at every step. Ai didn't know if being one of the higher level hands meant that he was allowed to be seen, but either way he didn't want it. Whenever someone looked at him it usually didn't mean something good, and the thought of people seeing him constantly made his cheeks burn with shame he knew he didn't merit, but felt anyway.

He still took in every bit of his surroundings as he traveled downward however, partly for the delight of it, partly because he was looking for the tiny but telltale traces of a servant's passage entrance. His fingers trailed lightly near the breaks in the sandstone, heels quietly tapping on the floor to see if it was hollow. He came across a few suspicious places, but didn't know how or if to open them. If a noble came by and saw him clawing at a wall they might think he was trying to flake off some of the golden paint and have him locked up; not something that he would likely escape from. With the lovely thought of dank palace dungeons and rotten rat carcasses Ai hurried into the kitchen, quickly dodging out of the way of a group of bloody butchers who ran past cradling pig roast in their arms.

The galley was bustling - as it usually was around noontime – with people chopping and slicing and braising and baking in order to feed the entirety of the castle. Ovens were blazing as Ai snuck by them, impatient bakers burning their fingers in an attempt to get the bread out to the waiting aristocracies faster. Orders were shouting over orders, handymen dashing through the rows of workers to supply them with fresh knives, new slabs of meat, and to collect what they had finished. Ai waded around all of this chaos, his life until just yesterday, and settled himself into his usual out of the way corner, snatching a roll off a basket that whipped by his face.

It was hot and burned his tongue, but he swallowed it all down anyway, blowing on his charred fingers afterwards. He glanced around out of habit to see if anyone had seen him eating. It was against instructions to eat during the rush-hours of the day, when meals were held, but the kitchen staff often couldn't help themselves; they were hungry too, and there was always a mountain of food passing just under their noses. Ai supposed these rules did not apply to him anymore as he did not work in the kitchen, but the memory of many a punishment from the head chef was enough to cause him to be discreet.

Grabbing an orange out of a crate, he settled into the shadows and dimly wondered where the other servants – ones like him, who didn't work in the kitchen – got their food. Did they just wander in everyday and he had never noticed them? Or perhaps they joined their masters in the café, at a separate table no doubt. It seemed absurd to ponder if their masters personally provided them with food; certainly it was the other way around. Ai stuck his thumb into the orange, hissing as the acidic juice bit into a cut he'd forgotten about. He quickly stuck the thumb in his mouth, sucking the sweetly striking juice off his finger, and looking up to meet the gaze of the head chef.

Ai instantly froze and dropped the offending fruit – an instinct learned from being witness to a worker who decided to ignore the cook's glare and keep eating. His eyes went wide and he pressed himself into the wall, mind blank as he kept horrible eye contact with the man just across the room, his eyebrows raised as if he had discovered an interesting type of bug on the bottom of his shoe. Ai's breathing hitched, irrational panic setting in, and he forced his eyes shut, waiting, waiting.

Of course nothing happened. Deep down Ai had been fairly certain that nothing would, but that hadn't mattered much at all. Even though when he looked up again the chef was walking away, off to concern himself with other matters, he still felt the panic, the fear, and it was that –not his own mobility – that pulled him off the ground and sent him running, barely remembering to grab the orange on his way out.

Routine sent him scurrying to the nearest servant's passage, slamming the bookshelf entry behind himself a little too loudly. He leaned against it on the inside, heart still racing and breathing barely calming down. Nails digging into the soft skin of the fruit he held he started to talk himself down, calming reasonable words that he didn't usually let himself hear and didn't usually believe. You're okay. It's fine. You're safe. No one will hurt you. It's okay.

A shaky breath fell out of him as he straightened up, eyes adjusting to the familiar dimness of the hallway. The claustrophobic space felt strangely comforting, dark and predictable as it was. With a final swallow he started forward into the darkness, trying to remember the direction towards the stairs so he could find his way back up. A few times he knocked his head into an unexpected beam as this route was not one he was entirely accustomed to, but he managed to go up a few floors before stumbling out of a decorative alcove near the main staircase. He glanced around the place, trying to remember this entrance, before starting up the stairs, shakily peeling and popping the fruit into his mouth.

The orange skin found itself tucked into his pocket as Ai reached the final level. Everything was just as quiet as when he had left; the hallways still empty; the doorways still closed. With the tiredness that arrives after a sweep of adrenaline Ai pushed open the doors once more and all but fell into the courtyard, struggling for a good thirty seconds to shut the gates behind him.

"Where were you?"

The words sent him spinning around, a startled gasp working its way out of his mouth. A few feet away stood the prince, his crimson hair tangled, wraps heavy and dark, his eyes filled with an anger that Ai could not reason, but feared nonetheless. His bangled arms crossed, the bracelets tinkling as they glanced off each other. Ai stayed stuck in place, his eyes trained on the man in front of him, not knowing whether to look away or not so deciding to do nothing, just stand there and await the wrath.

Brows furrowed and the prince took a step forward, his mouth falling into a scowl that distorted his features. "Was there any particular reason you decided to up and leave? You didn't even leave a note you know." Sarcasm laced his words, turning them to poison. Ai kept his gaze, frozen now, his bones feeling as heavy and cold as stone.

He'd angered the prince.

"Was it something I did, little boy?" the words whipped out again, with such a quantity of malice that Ai was amazed they alone didn't eat him like acid. His scarlet eyes were wide now as he leaned down to talk in the shorter boy's face, a wretched sort of darkness twisting in their depths. Again in the back of his mind Ai heard the voice of reason again, but could pay it no head. His brain was shut off, not comprehending as the royal continued to shout, volume escalating.

"What is it kid? Say something!"

With yelp Ai flinched back as a hand rose from the man's side.

Somewhere off in the distance a bird was singing. It must've been a tiny little bird, for its notes were so high. It was nearby too, then. Such delicate sound cannot carry very far. It twittered up and down an octave, carrying on into a song unknown. Another voice joined it. The voice of a girl. It too was a very gentle sound.

Ai slowly pried his eyes open, hesitant to see whatever it was that was before him. His shoulders ached from being tensed for so long and they shook with the exertion as he again made eye contact with the man.

His hand was raised to shoulder height and outstretched, as if meaning to reach out and guide Ai by the arm. Its fingers were slack now, the elbow ever so slowly bending to bring the appendage back to center. His mouth hung slightly open, but no words came out; he barely seemed to be breathing. Ai couldn't hear the bird anymore.

"Hey…" the word was strangely nervous, barely creeping out of the taller man's lips. Ai stared back at him, still tensed as if struck, waiting for the rest of a sentence that didn't seem to want to come. The man licked his lips, eyes focusing on the ground, suddenly much brighter, somehow so dazed. "Hey, say something."

Ai parted his lips, his hands balling into nervous fists at his sides. The voice was louder now and he could hear it, quiet as the world was, reminding him of something he had learned a long time ago. He was shaking and he was scared but he understood and he could understand. He still couldn't get his body to work, however.

Red locks of hairs fell into the other man's face, which was scrunched up and lined with stress. "Say…something…" His teeth grit together and Ai watched as they fit with each other perfectly, like pointy puzzle pieces. "Dammit."

It was strange how much Ai understood, being how different the two of them obviously were, but he supposed some things stay the same no matter who you are. If one looked they could always find the true meaning behind words, the true image behind a wall. The string of curses that follow the pain of a cut. The shouting that follows the reveal of an unfaithful spouse. It is odd how so often emotions that are hard to understand are substituted by anger, which is simple and fast. There is no point to anger – it's merely a reaction when something is wrong – and Ai knew this as he made his spine straighten and forced his hands to untighten themselves.

The redheaded prince met his eyes with ones filled a cloud of confusion, a daze of feeling that Ai couldn't decipher. Not 'what' he knew, but he understood 'why' and he placed an unsure smile on his face.

"It's just…too nice of a day to stay cooped up."

A.N. ***MERRY CHRISTMAS UPDATE!***

Whoa, and this one's a monster too. I added a whole scene in here I didn't initially plan for, but I think it made things flow for the better. Lots of scared Nitori this chapter...

I hope everything in this seems reasonable. I feel like I'm probably confusing a lot of you with weird moody-swingy Rin and strangely-insightful-but-too-petrified-to-do-anything Ai.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, followed, or favorited! You all make my day!

Everyone have Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!