Puits d'Amour

Reputation

As might be expected, that ardent conversation in the kitchen ushered Koushiro and Eimi to the bedroom. Koushiro stroked her silky hair, his mind at rest, an abnormal state- but a calm one. With his body warm and sated, his worries released, and Eimi's head resting on his chest, he felt…

Secure. Peaceful. Wanted. Loved.

Eimi snuggled into him and sighed. "I don't want to move. I wish I didn't have a shift at the café."

"Oh!" That pleasant stupor lifted, displaced by the delightful prospect of sharing their news. "I'll go with you! We can tell our friends and invite them for dinner tonight. Ah-" One of his hands was tangled in Eimi's hair; the other smacked his forehead. "I need to tell my parents that you accepted my suit first."

Eimi lifted her upper body, supporting herself with her elbow. Confusion crinkled her forehead. "Um, I don't think there's time to go to the suburbs and back before my shift."

Koushiro propped himself up with a pillow against the headboard. "I'll phone them. I should invite them to a separate dinner with just us. I imagine they'd feel out of place at a party with our friends."

He expected this to soothe her, but she fretfully nibbled her lower lip. "But… you haven't taught me how to behave around your parents yet. Or, um, your noble friends."

"Don't worry." Koushiro cupped her cheek and offered what he hoped was a soothing smile. "You don't need noble etiquette for my parents. All they want is to meet you, without pretense. Our friends won't expect decorum, either. They've already accepted you."

Her vulnerable, uncertain smile yanked Koushiro's heartstrings in a way he was unprepared for. The little waver in her voice belied the courage she summoned to speak. "Alright. I'm your intended, so… I'll trust your judgment. That's part of, of being…"

A tear leaked free as she hesitated, and Koushiro wiped it away. Although it caused so much pain, stress, and loneliness, he couldn't blame Eimi for dithering over his suit, given the circumstances. But having her acceptance, her commitment… It was as if something vital had snapped into place at last, like finding the perfect component for an invention, or identifying and correcting an equipment issue.

Koushiro shifted from his back to his side, pressing their bodies flush. Skin on skin, warm and soft, comforting in a way that fed an unknown, acute need. His eyes prickled. He shut them tight and buried his face between Eimi's neck and shoulder, inhaling the new, cherished scents of her.

"Partners," he murmured. The feel of his breath made her shiver, and, opportunistic as ever, he trailed kisses over her skin. He grinned when goosebumps blossomed beneath his lips.

"Koushiro!" Eimi squeaked. "My, my shift…"

He paused, struggling to process. Koushiro knew better than to think that he was without emotion, but generally, he approached the world in a logical, calm manner. But over the last few minutes, he had catapulted from peaceful to excited to adoring to… Well, to wanting to make Eimi very, very late. It was disorienting!

"P-pardon me," he blurted. But he didn't back off physically, not a centimeter. Eimi nervously swayed her hips, which were smushed into his. He found this most interesting. "We do have some time."

"Um- Yes, but- Should we figure out what's happening tonight? Do we really need a party? I understand that you have food to move, but..."

There was a pause as Koushiro struggled to shift his thoughts from physical impulses to Eimi's question. "Admittedly, I'm not interested in parties, but… I want to celebrate this with our friends. Is that agreeable?"

"Our friends..." Eimi repeated. "Can I invite Ken?"

"Naturally." He awaited further requests, but none were forthcoming. Koushiro struggled to maintain a happy expression. Eimi had friends, especially among music students and the café staff. But the only person she seemed comfortable inviting personally was from her home province.

How had he failed to understand Eimi's hesitance among the nobility and the working class all this time? She was relaxed with him, at least before he first approached her as a suitor. Still, maybe she expected Koushiro to extend invitations because he was better versed in doing so. He might be reading into things too much…

But how could he help Eimi feel like she belonged, especially among people who already cared about her?

"Is there anyone else?" he asked gently. The panic in her eyes confirmed that she was anxious about something, at least.

"Um- Well, Iori-kun and our friends at the café? Although…" She finger combed her hair, which was ruffled by their lovemaking, with twitchy hands. "Um. We, we should maybe ask His Highness?"

Her squeaky pitch hinted that she very much would rather not. "Yamato-san?" Koushiro echoed, dumbstruck. And here he was, thinking she was afraid to ask their classmates! "I- I suppose- He's unlikely to come, but I think he'll appreciate your invitation. He genuinely wants to befriend us, it seems."

"Koushiro!" Eimi squeaked. "My invitation?!"

"It's a private setting," Koushiro said slowly, stroking his chin- and struggling not to laugh at Eimi's obvious panic. "It might be ideal for his purposes."

"Me, though?!"

"It was your idea," Koushiro pointed out cheerfully. "And an admirable one, at that. After all, he encouraged you to record, which helped us talk things out." He paused, and his gaze shifted from playful to thoughtful. "But remember... We're not inviting the crown prince. We're inviting our friend, Yamato-san."

"I see," Eimi said softly. "Inviting the prince to your party is like a feather in your cap. Inviting Yamato-san is like inviting Iori-kun. Right?"

"Exactly. I hate to be presumptuous, but I think Yamato-san would appreciate being treated like a friend. I know it might seem overly-particular, but please use his name when you extend the invitation."

Eimi swallowed hard. "You don't ask much."

"I know," Koushiro agreed, patting her shoulder. "It feels odd to me, too. But... I think I'm beginning to understand Yamato-san's perspective." He wasn't pushing this task onto Eimi purely because he also found it daunting. Yamato seemed kind, if a bit prone to irritation, and he was open to interacting with Eimi, despite their massive class difference. This made him safe practice for Eimi. If she mastered interacting with a prince, then what were a handful of nobles?

"His perspective?" Eimi echoed. "What do you mean?"

Koushiro hesitated, unwilling to extrapolate about someone else's experiences. "It's not my place to say, but… Sometimes, Yamato-san seems like an outsider, struggling to fit in."

Compassion, commiseration for someone she barely knew, overwhelmed Eimi's face. Koushiro found her hand among the sheets and held it. Her ability and willingness to emphasize with others had always attracted him, and made him feel safe in her hands.

"I see," she murmured. "It's strange. The three of us have totally different backgrounds, and yet... Somehow, all of us face obstacles to being accepted."

Koushiro blinked. Comparing himself to a prince felt presumptuous, but… "You're right." He lifted a fist to his chin as his brain sparked into action. Did Hakone's class system inherently isolate her people? They even invented gradients of hierarchies within classes, almost grasping for ways to exclude and sneer.

With some reluctance, Koushiro stored that idea for future discussion- and further processing. Experience reminded him that it was easy to veer so far from the original topic that he never returned to it. "But despite those differences, Yamato-san asked us to treat him like a friend. Given all he's done for us, I'd like to honor his request, even if it feels presumptuous."

Eimi's expression was complex, but slowly, her hesitance shifted to something like resolve. "Alright. Somehow, I'll invite Yamato-san."

"Eimi… Thank you." Koushiro couldn't know why she agreed, despite her anxiety surrounding Yamato's title. But if he had to guess, she didn't want the prince to be excluded for reasons beyond his control, as she and Koushiro so often were.

"And speaking of, I should get ready for my shift at the café." Eimi began to sit up, but Koushiro gently grasped her arm.

"We do have some time." And, in case he was being too indirect, he established eye contact and lifted Eimi's hand for a kiss. Verbally expressing himself was often difficult, sometimes impossible. Thankfully, there were many ways to communicate, and some of them were extremely… pleasant.

A smile slowly lifted Eimi's lips. "I see. So this is how it's going to be with you."

With a grin and precisely zero remorse, Koushiro replied, "With your permission, of course."

XXX

Yamato sat on the sofa near the fireplace at Café du Ciel, awaiting Eimi's set and drinking coffee. Jyou was spending time with his family today, and Osamu was off duty, so he was accompanied by a guard and an unfamiliar attendant. It hurt, just a bit, that Jyou had far more of a home in Hakone than he did, but he couldn't begrudge him that. Besides, this was a rare opportunity to be alone in public, to sit with his thoughts while observing the world.

Or, rather, it would be... If the café staff ever stopped checking on him. Sora, Wallace, Meiko, and Mimi had all approached to chat, and Ken offered small talk while Yamato ordered. Iori also exchanged a few words from one of the prime armchairs by the fire- but didn't offer the spare to Yamato, he noticed.

Yamato wasn't sure if he was grateful for the chance to get to know everyone better, or if this somehow made him feel even more alone. Did he look as damned lonely as he felt?

Not a comforting thought.

It was nearly eleven in the morning on Saturday, and the café bustled. Except for weekday breakfast hours, when patrons often ordered food and took it out into the world, customers seemed to linger here, using the café as a hangout. Today, things were loud and jovial, marked by movement, people coming and going. It was a cheerful hubbub, with a prince seated awkwardly in the middle, catching glimpses of people actually enjoying their weekend.

The café door opened, and Yamato looked towards the movement. Eimi and Koushiro entered, and he waved and began to stand. He froze in an awkward mid point when he noticed that they were holding hands.

He straightened as Iori appeared beside him, tall and sturdy, wearing a gray kimono. His smile was warm, but intensely relieved, suggesting the release of an old burden. His whispered, "Thank goodness," confirmed this impression.

There was no time for further comment; a high-pitched "Eeeeeeeeee!" drowned out everything else. Mimi bolted from behind the counter. For a second, Yamato thought she would vault the go through separating the counter from the rest of the café, rather than pause to open it. Ken, who stood beside her at the coffee machine, lunged towards her, but happily, Mimi chose the safer option.

The go through slammed shut after Mimi tossed it up and passed through the gap. She ran to Eimi and Koushiro and threw an arm around them both. They sagged, but remained upright.

"Mimi-chan, our hands are full," Eimi objected. Koushiro carried her guitar and Eimi held her massive tote bag. Mimi hopped up and down, threatening to totter them over, then released them.

"Look at you two! It finally happened!"

Koushiro's smile faded as he realized that everyone in the room was staring at them. "Ah," he murmured, and Iori snorted with laughter. "Well, um, I suppose while we have your attention... Yes. Eimi and I are, well... Courting."

"Ooooo!" Mimi cried, elbowing Koushiro as her pitch rose and fell. "So official! Skipped right by dating!"

Color blossomed across both Koushiro and Eimi's faces. Yamato stepped forward, intending to intervene should Mimi's teasing go too far, but Mimi patted them both on the shoulder. "I'm kidding. Casual dating is new, and you both have that serious personality. Courting suits you! Congratulations!"

The smile that lit Eimi's face transformed her. Catching himself staring, Yamato looked away, unaware that her grin had infectiously spread to him. "Oh!" Mimi cried, smacking her forehead. "I'll get Sora-san! She'll want to know!"

As she dashed past the counter, Ken called, "Mimi-san, the register!" When Mimi opted not to hear him, Ken sighed and asked the next customer for their order.

Iori joined their group, but Yamato hung back, observing. "Congratulations," Iori said, embracing Koushiro. "I'm so thrilled for you both."

Only Koushiro's hair and eyes were visible over Iori's shoulder. Yamato averted his gaze again when Koushiro's tears dripped free. His response was inaudible, but he hugged Iori back, hard.

When Iori released him, Koushiro wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. Iori moved on to Eimi, who joyfully threw herself into his open arms. "Congratulations, Eimi-san!"

"Thank you! I hope we can all spend lots of time together, now." Yamato felt his brow rising. Eimi seemed so at ease with Iori, and his doting smile suggested a brotherly bond.

"I'd like that very much," he replied. "I hope you'll be staying at the townhouse."

Although Iori delivered the second sentence just as calmly as the first, Eimi's blushing drastically intensified. Iori moved on to chat with Koushiro, leaving Eimi floundering.

Seeing Eimi unoccupied, Yamato approached. "Congratulations. I think your set might be delayed today."

"You may be right," Eimi admitted. "And thank you."

At this point, café customers, likely friends of Koushiro and Eimi, were beginning to swarm. "Let me help you with your things," Iori said, taking the guitar from Koushiro... And abandoning him with the crowd as he and Eimi deposited her belongings by the piano.

Sensing that his window for Koushiro's time was closing, Yamato offered a handshake, then made way for the crowd and returned to his seat. Eimi and Iori rejoined Koushiro, but Yamato stayed put, watching the throng around the new couple and feeling lonelier than ever, somehow.

He glanced up at the energetic patter of feet. Mimi rushed into the group, clearly thriving in the celebratory energy. Sora trailed after her, her pace more sedate. She stopped beside Yamato and said, "They're getting rushed. May I sit with you until there's a window?"

Yamato smiled, intensely relieved for the company. "Please do."

Sora sat. She wore a kimono in pale blue, and her hair was pulled back with bobby pins that also held delicate baby's breath flowers. She gazed at the crowd, her smile warm and gentle. "I'm so happy for them. Thank you for everything."

Yamato looked away, but he couldn't say if it was due to embarrassment or feeling so out of place. If what he did was so important for Koushiro and Eimi, then why was he sitting over here instead of joining the celebration? But that was his choice, not theirs. Why was he projecting it onto them, as if they had asked him to go away?

"It wasn't much." Yamato was stiff, gruff, grumpy. Too many moods churned within him, like a stormy sea seething in a bottle.

"Hmm... I disagree. Your connection to Ichijouji-kun gave Koushiro-kun the perspective he needed to understand Eimi-chan's situation. And you used your sway as prince to convince Eimi-chan to use resources that could help her become more independent, less vulnerable. And the better she feels about herself and her perceived place in the world, the more confident and willing to pursue opportunities she will be." Sora placed a hand on his knee, gently squeezed, then slipped away. "You say you didn't do much. I say you were uncommonly generous."

Although Yamato's shoulders inched up with embarrassed discomfort, Sora's praise gratified him. He saw himself as offering something simple- just a bit of time and influence- in exchange for more connections to the café. But clearly, that wasn't how Sora viewed things.

He always valued her warmth, but it felt even better than usual now, when he was so lonely and out of place.

"You should celebrate with them," Sora said gently.

The pleasure of her kind words faded. He gazed once more at the group of friends surrounding Koushiro and Eimi- the group he did not belong to. "I'd like to, but the friends they've known longer come first. And I'm not sure..."

Would he even be welcome? Would they think to include him, or simply assume that a prince wasn't interested in them? Did it matter, really? Opening doors for connections to the local nobility and merchants was far more important than personal friendships. Right?

Or was he telling himself whatever he could to soften the inevitable blow of rejection? He should be accustomed to it by now, like when maids left the room when he entered. Like when friends from Lyon University didn't see him off when he left Autun for Hakone.

"Don't sell yourself- or Koushiro-kun and Eimi-chan- short." Yamato turned to Sora, baffled, but hungry for reassurance. However, she turned to lighter topics until the crowd around Koushiro and Eimi dwindled. She excused herself and approached, and Yamato watched her hug them both and chat with them. When Sora left, Koushiro murmured to Eimi, who looked across the room- and locked eyes with him.

Yamato gazed back, mystified, as Eimi approached, her gait irregular and stiff, clearly nervous. When she was beside him, she blurted, "May, may I sit?"

"Um- yes. Please." Yamato watched her straighten her skirt and lower herself beside him. After all of that fussing with her clothing, she began picking at it, mussing it worse than before.

"Um, so... Koushiro and I are having a party. Tonight. At his townhouse, here in Nagano."

She seemed intensely interested in watching wrinkles appear in the fabric under her restless hands. "Um, it's a casual celebration. I know you probably can't- You have important things to do- But, um, you're very welcome. If you'd like." Then, with an air suggesting that lightning might strike her in retaliation, she blurted, "Yamato-san."

Yamato stared, dumbfounded and embarrassed by the pleasure caused by being accepted, by receiving what he so desired. Pulling himself together required intense effort, and he had the mortifying suspicion that this was obvious. "I'd love to join you. I'll call the palace and check my schedule, then let you know."

Eimi's head whipped towards him. For a sinking moment, Yamato wondered if she had hoped he would make his excuses, but all he read was astonishment. "You- really? You don't mind?"

"I'm happy," was Yamato's honest response. Since arriving in Autun, he had been invited to countless parties, outings, and visits with nobles. But this was his first personal invitation, the first hostess to want Yamato, rather than the prince.

At last, Eimi relaxed. "Then I hope you can make it! I have to start my set, but Koushiro can give you details."

"Of course. Good luck, and congratulations, Eimi-chan. I'm happy for you both."

"Thank you. I really appreciate-" Liquid pooled in her eyes, and Eimi stood and bowed. "Thank you."

"Not at all. Good luck with your set." Yamato offered a dismissal, freeing her to go while staying within friendly language. Thankfully, Eimi seemed to understand this, and left without dithering.

Piano music trilled through the café, cheerful today, rather than pensive. Yamato allowed himself a tiny grin, which widened when Koushiro approached. Yamato patted the sofa cushion beside his- if he had to listen to the third person ask to sit there in under ten minutes, he would snap. Koushiro obliged, bless him.

"I truly am glad that it worked out. Congratulations."

"Yamato-san..." The way Koushiro shifted his weight indicated nerves, but he was smiling, if a bit shyly. "Eimi and I have so much to thank you for. Pardon me if I'm being presumptuous, but you mentioned wanting to befriend us. While I acknowledge that relationships take time to build, please know that I consider you my friend. If I can ever help you, I will."

Yamato shifted, pleased but uncomfortable- something of a theme today, it seemed. Everyone was praising him for taking time for Koushiro and Eimi, and for utilizing his royal sway. It was such a little thing, and yet, it touched two lives, and even changed them. As the future king, he had to come to terms with the power in his hands, the way even his small decisions impacted others.

Clearly, he still had a lot to learn about how an individual could shape the world.

"It wasn't much," Yamato repeated. "But I won't turn down that offer."

"I'm glad," Koushiro said, smiling. "Eimi invited you to the party tonight, yes?"

"She did. Brave of her." Yamato allowed a wry grin. "She seems happy."

Yamato followed Koushiro's glance over his shoulder, to the piano. Today, Eimi's back was straight, her body gently moving as she worked the keys, emoting with the music. Those infectious nerves that normally transferred from Eimi to Yamato, like nibbling emotional fleas, were absent today.

"She carried so much for so long," Koushiro murmured. "I wish I understood properly far earlier. Genuinely, I can't thank you enough. I understand that you likely can't make it tonight, but I hope you can."

"I'll check now," Yamato replied. "If you'll excuse me, I need to borrow Sora-san's phone." He took his leave of Koushiro, then returned to Sora, who was chatting with Iori, to ask about using her telephone.

Checking the schedule was just protocol, something expected of a prince. Yamato was attending, unless he absolutely couldn't. How many evenings had he spent reading dossiers and doing paperwork in his study?

He was wanted somewhere by friends, and he was looking forward to being there.

XXX

Sora idled in her living room above the café, trying unsuccessfully not to eavesdrop on Yamato, who held her phone receiver to his ear. The conversation was short, but relief washed over her when he hung up. Hovering was just too awkward.

"So?" she prompted.

Yamato's smile set his eyes sparkling, and there was a strange thud in Sora's chest. Well, maybe not so strange. He was as handsome as men came, in Sora's experience. What was the use in denying that fact, or the impact it had on her?

"I'm free tonight. Jyou has plans with his brothers, though."

He must really want to attend… Sora couldn't help smiling. It appeared as though her favorite Stray Prince was on his way to forming a new friend group, and not just any group, at that. He was colliding with Sora's world; although she didn't know all of Koushiro and Eimi's friends, and many were younger than her, most of her staff would likely attend.

Sora tapped her chin thoughtfully. Was there a way to help Yamato integrate, to optimize his odds of success? "Are you familiar with the area where Koushiro-kun lives? We could walk there together, if you'd like. Although you likely have a ride..."

Yamato hesitated, and Sora wondered if she had overstepped. At last, he said, "That sounds wonderful, but... Do you mind if we're accompanied? The guards will give us space, but... Well, I can't leave them behind."

It occurred to Sora that she might have just massively complicated her evening, but she couldn't regret it. She was sensing more and more that everyday things, like a house party and an evening walk with a friend, were simply not part of Yamato's life. If giving him those opportunities meant going a little out of her way...

Well, he was willing to do the same for her friends. Sora wanted to return that kindness. She tried to speak cheerfully, to emphasize that she wasn't put off by any factors that came with Yamato's title. "I don't mind. Let's meet here beforehand."

"Really? Then let's." He smiled again, and this time, traces of color tinted his fair, clear skin. Sora wasn't aware that she was staring until he suddenly scowled and scratched his head. "What should I wear? Do I bring a gift?"

Sora smiled. Someone like Eimi might need coaching in how to attend a formal party thrown by a noble or statesperson, but Yamato... Well, he had his own blind spots. It was oddly comforting. And the fact that that he wanted to meet whatever expectations existed for Koushiro and Eimi's gathering...

Warmth in her heart translated to a warm smile. Sora ran her fingers through her hair, hooking it behind her ear as she sat on her sofa. She patted the spot next to her.

"Have a seat, Yamato. I'll fill you in."

XXX

Eimi's set zoomed by, a euphoric moment of harmony between her body and heart. She could have gone on forever, pouring her soul into song, but eventually, Koushiro gently cupped her shoulder.

"It's time to head out," he said. "Ken-san is waiting to talk to you, and then, if you don't mind, I could use help preparing for tonight."

Her smile had to look idiotic, but Eimi couldn't bring herself to care. Preparing for a party with Koushiro... Spending the night with him, and walking to university together the next day...

How strange and wonderful for her world to be so transformed in a single day!

"Okay! I'll be right back." Eimi placed her guitar in its case, packed her sheet music, and went in search of her friend.

She found Ken in the café's back room, staring at an open textbook and notebook. Dark strands slipped from the ribbon tying back his hair, a sky blue that matched the café's uniform shirts.

Eimi popped onto the open stool beside his at the counter. "Hi- oop!"

With quick reflexes born of athleticism and, most likely, long experience with Eimi, Ken grabbed her elbow, keeping her steady. Charitably, he didn't comment on her near spill. "Hello. Congratulations!"

The smile that wouldn't leave Eimi's face somehow broadened. "Thank you! Thank you so much! Did you hear about the party? Can you come? Sorry about the short notice."

When Ken smiled, kindness and warmth rose from the blue depths of his eyes, easy to see, easy to feel. His pleasure on her behalf felt like an embrace, even as he remained calmly seated and still. "I wouldn't miss it."

"I'm so glad!" As far as Eimi was concerned, a party wasn't a party without Ken, her oldest friend, her family. She dearly hoped that he and Koushiro would become close, too. Thankfully, they seemed to have a good impression of each other, based on proximity at the café and her positive descriptions.

The passing thought of Koushiro prompted her to add, "Oh, and Koushiro asked if your brother would like to attend."

Osamu was a bit of an unknown. Eimi vaguely remembered him as a doting older brother, if a bit inclined to showing off. But eventually, he was absent for increasingly long periods, sent off to special tutors and contests, until he left for boarding school and never returned. It was hard on Ken, so Eimi didn't press. And something about the way Ken hesitated suggested that some complication or discomfort with Osamu remained.

"I'll ask," he replied at last. "I hate to ask for a plus one, but can I bring Daisuke?"

"Of course you can!" Eimi laughed. "He's already on the guest list! I bet he'll love Koushiro's..." A pause lagged on as Eimi hesitated. Wincing, she admitted, "Well, his cook."

Ken lifted a brow, and Eimi sighed and nodded. "I know..."

"I didn't say a word," Ken pointed out, in a tone that indicated he was thinking exactly what Eimi suspected he was thinking: the Izumis had a personal cook, while families like the Ichijoujis and the Anamis often went without food.

"Looks like you'll be moving up in the world." The words could have been cruel, taunting, but Ken's wobbly smile held no malice. Eimi's best guess was that he didn't know what to make of this any more than she did.

"It's... Well, it's a lot," Eimi allowed. "But... Well..."

Ken placed a hand on her back. "I'm happy for you, truly. But if you ever need to talk to someone from home, I'm here."

And suddenly, there was a massive frog in Eimi's throat. Someone from home was a threat- someone who knew her history, and could spread it. But in Ken's case, it meant a comrade. Someone who understood. Someone who also wondered how his family was faring in his absence- but had the dark comfort of knowing that they had one fewer mouth to feed without him.

"Thank you." Two words, and common ones at that. But they held a novel of meaning, at least when spoken to someone who understood. And the way Ken briefly nudged her hand with his reinforced that he did.

Ken stretched, then closed his books. "If that's all you wanted to talk about, then I'll get Daisuke and head home. I'll see you tonight."

"Okay," Eimi chirped. "Sora-san offered her phone, if you need to call your brother."

Ken's grin went apologetic. "I know. She always does..." Which, for someone from their backgrounds, was an incredible generosity. Local calls weren't terribly expensive, but phoning home could cost as much as a meal. Displaced commonborn folks often had to choose between a hungry heart, longing to hear the voices of friends and family back home, and a hungry stomach.

"I'll see if I can make that call," Ken said, gathering his books.

"Okay. I should get ready for the party." Eimi's smile flagged as she hesitated. Would mentioning Osamu put him on edge?

Ken's piercing blue eyes caught hers and held them. "Well?" he murmured. The demand was blunt, but he spoke softly, gently.

Knowing that he was unlikely to let her drop it, Eimi murmured, "Good luck with your brother."

Even Eimi struggled to read Ken's expression. When he broke eye contact at last, he quietly said, "Thank you. See you tonight."

Eimi didn't know what Ken was thinking or feeling, but she recognized his need for space. She brushed his hand, a brief offer of support, and retreated to the main café area, where Koushiro and Iori waited.

XXX

Ken stood in Sora's living room, staring at the phone on the end table beside the sofa. The room was calming, painted a peaceful green and decorated with plants and old photographs. Despite that, Ken felt horribly out of place. Sora would want him to feel welcome, he knew, but everything in the room was beyond his ability to purchase: the phonograph, the phone, the radio, the art, and the high quality furniture. He didn't want to touch anything, lest it break.

This left him scowling at the phone. It was best not to idle in someone else's space, and yet...

Well, Ken wasn't sure how to approach this conversation.

Sighing, he picked up the receiver and dialed the desk that served his brother's residence in the old palace, which housed the royal family's live-in servants. An operator connected him to the on-duty housing assistant. "Good afternoon, to whom am I speaking, and whom are you calling?"

"Ichijouji Ken. I'd like to talk to Ichijouji Osamu."

"Just a moment, please."

Ken sat on Sora's couch, waiting while the assistant knocked on his brother's door. If Ken knew Osamu, then he was studying or doing coursework. Osamu was assigned light hours serving the prince to allow for his continuing education at Nagano University. Unfortunately, this flexibility came at the cost of living in the old palace instead of on campus, for the royal family's convenience.

Osamu despised this. He said he wanted to live in an academic environment, and Ken had no reason to doubt him. But an ugly, hated voice in the back of his mind wondered if Osamu resented living among maids and gardeners instead of students from well-off families. It wasn't a thought he wanted to entertain about family, and yet...

Well, Osamu seemed determined to join the nobles, even as he railed against them. How could he do that if he lived among servants in the old palace, rather than with the students he hoped would become his peers in the working world? The same scholarship opportunity that funded Osamu's education and allowed him to live in Nagano othered him.

Shuffling on the other line snapped Ken into attention. "Hello?" Osamu asked. "Kenny?"

Ken's dark thoughts faded at the warmth in his brother's voice. They didn't often speak on the phone; it cost money that neither of them wanted to spare. Besides, they were both busy juggling jobs and school.

"Hi, Onii-chan."

"Is everything alright? We don't have plans."

Ken stared at the collection of ancestral photographs on Sora's wall and suppressed a sigh. Even when they were little, Osamu's schedule was packed with tutoring. As he excelled, he traveled to contests and other opportunities, often with one or both of their parents, leaving Ken pawned off on whoever would take him. He eventually won a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school far from home, abandoning Ken for good.

They didn't reunite until Nagano University offered Ken a scholarship, a way of thanking Osamu for the success he brought their various academic teams. At least, that was the explanation that Osamu gave Ken. However, he suspected that his scholarship was effectively a bribe, a way to tempt Osamu into accepting a job at the palace. The royal family advisers seemed to want the nation's top minds on hand.

Ken knew the attendant job chafed Osamu's pride. He likely would have accepted regardless, since the royal family was paying for his continuing education and room and board in Nagano. But Ken knew that the perks of his scholarship and the salary that allowed Osamu to send money home played a role. This made for a complex relationship; Osamu sacrificed for Ken, while unwittingly forcing Ken to sacrifice for him.

Ken's forehead was a smushed maze of worry lines. Two sentences into this conversation, and he was already mucking through complicated thoughts and feelings! He dragged his cloudy mind back to the conversation. "We were invited to a party at Izumi Koushiro's home tonight."

The long paused scraped at Ken's nerves, setting his teeth on edge. "A party?" Osamu echoed. "What's the occasion?"

Ken's hand curled tight around the receiver. He knew better than to mention Eimi, whom Osamu had explicitly- and repeatedly- warned him against associating with. This was baffling to Ken, as they were friends long before Osamu left for boarding school. Osamu seemed to have forgotten her, at least until the news of the Anami's scandal reached him.

How could Ken discuss the party without revealing his friendship with Eimi? Was that even worth the effort? As soon as Osamu saw them together, it would be clear that they were close. But then, Osamu was unlikely to attend a social event unless it granted some benefit that outweighed what he gained from study time. Choosing his words with care might circumvent any problems.

"Koushiro-san's intended accepted his suit." There. Ken didn't mention Eimi, not directly. Iori would be proud of his use of language; not a single lie, nothing to implicate himself.

It was truly depressing how skilled Ken was at speaking to his brother like this.

Osamu laughed- a dry, humorless sound, almost a huff. "Izumi-kun didn't give up on that?"

"Oh?" Eimi mentioned that Osamu and the prince met with Koushiro to discuss the Anami stigma, so Ken wasn't surprised. But his act would crumble if he didn't ask, and he couldn't deny that he was curious about that conversation.

Osamu sighed. "His Highness got involved with Izumi-kun. He seems to want to befriend the local young people- the ones he thinks are important, anyway. I warned Izumi-kun about the Anami stigma. What a thing to risk his station over..."

There was a time for a pointed, well-worded response, and there was a time for silence. Ken opted for the latter, until Osamu said, "Well, that's his choice. I suppose we have to keep our distance from Izumi-kun now, too."

"Then you're not going?" Ken grimly wondered why he bothered calling. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had predicted. But even as the bitter question bounced through his brain, so too did the answer.

He loved his brother, and dearly wanted to reconnect, to navigate the treacherous distance between them. But sometimes, he doubted that Osamu wanted the same thing- or that he even sensed a problem between them.

"Of course not. If the prince is attending, then maybe Anami-kun's stigma isn't a problem anymore. I truly hope so, for her sake. But we need to be cautious; we can't hide behind the rank and fortune that Izumi-kun and his friends have. You made your excuses, right?"

Ken's mind blanked. What was he supposed to say? It wasn't as if his brother would yell. It's just... He had a way of insisting he knew best.

"I'm going." Ken marveled at how calm he sounded. He felt cold, almost unreal. Just like that, another chip was hammered off the bedrock of their relationship. He knew Osamu wanted to protect him, and he knew he held no real malice towards Eimi.

But he wasn't listening. For the millionth time, Osamu chose his values and opinions over what Ken wanted for his own life.

"Kenny… You're a kind person. I love that about you." Ken's memories of Osamu were a bit hazy, owing to time spent apart, but he suspected that this gentle, earnest tone was reserved for him. "But think about what you're risking, here. You might not know what the Anamis went through after the scandal-"

"Of course I know!" And suddenly, Ken wished for the calm and control he displayed just moments ago. "You were already gone, away in Nagano. I was still at home. I saw everything she went through! I saw…"

Ken's voice abandoned him. How could he verbalize what he witnessed? He saw Eimi's parents lose their jobs, watched people switch to the opposite side of the street when an Anami approached. His mother, who was so generous with Ken's friends, even when the Ichijoujis had little to share, told him to stop meeting with Eimi, who practically grew up in their apartment.

He watched Eimi, a girl who already carried far too much on her shoulders, recede further and further into herself, value herself less and less. He watched the weight drip off her, knew she wasn't eating. What could she eat? Her parents had no income, and her brother moved away. Ken gave her whatever he could spare, and some that he couldn't- just as she did for him when his parents spent all of their money on Osamu's education, leaving precious little for anything else.

It was an intense relief when she won her scholarship with room and board to Nagano University, and another when Osamu secured one for Ken. Finally, he and Eimi had enough to eat, and their parents had no more dependents to sacrifice for. They were on their own now, save for each other- and soon, the support of the Izumi family, at least for Eimi.

"The poor thing… I'm sorry you had to see that." Osamu's voice seemed to come from another universe, rather than another building. "But then, you understand why we can't risk the progress I've fought for. It's so like you to worry about Anami-kun, but she has Izumi-kun to take care of her now. She's fine, but we don't have any nobles in our corner."

Ken knew no word for what was happening inside him. Fury blazed over his nervous system, as if his spine were alight. He wanted to move, to scream, to throw things, but he was struck mute and frozen. The feelings were simply too much to process.

Slowly, thought returned, railing, raving. Eimi was no thing! And what, was he meant to break ties with her because her situation improved? As if he was just a prop to support the poor thing, the broken thing that could not stand on her own? As if they weren't family in their own right?

"We've always had each other. We always will." Ken had rarely heard his voice so stony, so unyielding. It scared him, just a little, that he could be so angry.

"So you get it." The relief in Osamu's voice was palpable- he might as well have thanked the gods. Ken's face set into a rigid mask. Osamu understood the words, so he must have been listening. But he just wasn't hearing him.

"Yes. I'll be there for Eimi, like she's been there for me."

"I- What?"

Ken's teeth interlocked and ground. Osamu sounded confused and upset, as if his offer of peace and love had been spurned. Ken hadn't meant to hurt him- in fact, he intended to avoid this scenario. And yet, after all the care he took to dance around mentioning his relationship with Eimi, he slapped Osamu in the face with it. It was infuriating, and yet… He couldn't regret it. If Osamu wouldn't let him tiptoe around subjects he didn't like to keep the peace, then he could deal with the truth.

And maybe this way, he'd have to listen.

"I've been friends with Eimi since we were children. Do you truly not remember? She was in our apartment all the time."

Every syllable was tinged with exasperation, but Osamu also sounded a touch bewildered. "Everyone loved you, Kenny. Why would I remember a particular child? And anyway, I was always focused on getting us out of there, not befriending the local children."

This time, Ken was silent because he genuinely didn't know what to say- not without being hurtful again, which he had no desire to do. He loved Osamu, the older brother who doted on him and worked so hard to lift their family from poverty.

But while Osamu seemed so keen to forget where they came from, Ken wanted to remember. No matter what good fortune he may or may not enjoy in this life, Ken would never be above or below anyone else. That poor, obscure province would always be his home. He was proud of his parents, their tiny apartment, his friends and neighbors, of each cup of coffee and tea he prepared, of every smile he received in return.

He often wondered if Osamu understood the sacrifices Ken and his parents made to fund his tutoring, contest entry fees, and travel costs. Or how the loss of the attention and resources his parents allocated entirely to Osamu impacted him.

And worst of all, the price Ken paid with the absence of his older brother, and the strain between them that lingered to this moment.

It wasn't fair to place blame for the actions of his parents on his brother, who was also a child at the time. Ken knew that. But that loneliness, hunger, financial stress, and the pervasive feeling of being less than colored every moment of his childhood.

He wished Osamu would consider his perspective, or at least listen. It didn't seem like much to ask.

"I'm going," Ken repeated, gently this time. "Thanks for worrying about me-" About your own reputation- "but I don't see how I can be stigmatized for associating with the prince. And Eimi would ask Koushiro-san and His Highness for help on my behalf, if needed."

"Are you sure?" Osamu's tone was stiff, almost clipped. Ken wondered what he was holding back- but acknowledged that this restraint came from a place of love. "Why would the nobles bother with you? I don't mean that as an insult. I'm trying to be realistic."

This time, Ken's pause stemmed from bafflement- a whole flavor spectrum of silences. "You... Haven't spent much time around Koushiro-san and Eimi, have you?"

"Never seen them together. Why?"

"If Eimi asks for something, and Koushiro-san can reasonably give it, he would. And His Highness seems friendly with them both." Ken hesitated, choosing his words with care. "I understand that many nobles aren't trustworthy- or rather, that they don't have a thought to spare for people from a province like ours. But no one group of people is entirely good or bad. Koushiro-san is a good man, and I have no reason to think poorly of His Highness. And Eimi has always been there for me."

Even when you weren't. And there it was again, his kindness and malice entwined, chasing one another. The ouroboros of his personality, the infinity that made the whole.

Osamu breathed a ragged, brittle sigh. Ken thought he heard a dull thump, like a fist against the wall. "Kenny… You're so good hearted. I wish I could make you see things my way, but... Well, you know how I feel. I'm against you going."

"Mm." Ken really wanted to drawl the word 'noted' out to its full possible length, but he had no desire to prolong the conversation. "I have to go. Good luck with your studies."

"Think about it. I'm serious. I want to protect our family."

Eimi is my family, too. Knowing he'd get nowhere with that, Ken nearly hissed, "Good night."

Ken exhaled as he placed the receiver back on the cradle. Although Sora's flat was welcoming, the atmosphere was oppressive. He left, hoping he could shake off the dark mood riding him.

Author's Notes: Man, this chapter was a chonker at over 7,500 words! I love the final scene of this one so much. I've often wondered what Ken and Osamu's relationship would have been like if it was allowed to go on the way it was going in 02, and I'm so excited to finally explore that complex situation.

My next few updates will be for this fic. I can't wait to share my stories with you! If you enjoyed this, please do review. Love you, please take care!