Puits d'Amour

Party, Pt 2

Yamato and Koushiro ventured to the living room, breaking off from the group. It was filled with guests, some seated on the couch and side chairs, most milling about. Like Sora's living room, it featured an impressive phonograph and radio. The phonograph rested on a handsome antique console, which enticed Yamato with the promise of records.

"It's a beautiful home," Yamato offered. The walls were covered with portraits, some of which seemed as old as the art of photography itself. He almost blurted that Koushiro bore no resemblance to his ancestors, but a glance at his vivid red hair and freckles reminded him that he was adopted.

Would it be rude to ask if Koushiro had a portrait of both sets of parents? Somehow, the ancestral family home made Yamato curious about the Izumi history. The impulse was fanciful, but he almost felt ancestors around him. Who was in that photo? Which of these furniture pieces did they purchase, and what were their needs at the time? How many lives came together to make this cozy, lived-in, well-loved home?

And soon, no matter how much Koushiro and Eimi dithered about it, Koushiro would likely bring home his wife and begin his chapter of the Izumi story.

That loathed, slithering sensation of jealousy stirred in his gut. Although it was far more ancestral than this townhome, the palace was cold, far too large to be a home. And the many years Yamato spent in Autun separated him further from the palace and the Ishidas. Where was his connection, his history, his sense of belonging and having a place in a family?

But none of that was Koushiro's fault. Yamato ordered himself to deal with his problems in a more suitable setting. Guests stopped Koushiro, congratulating their host. Yamato excused himself, knelt by the console, slid the door open, and perused the records, a welcome distraction.

He expected Koushiro's music taste to skew towards classical- the violin case beside the phonograph was a reminder of his musical background. But, as Koushiro had claimed, he had at least one record from every genre Yamato could conceive of, including the coveted jazz. Yamato grinned when he found a group he was interested in.

He removed the old record, placed it back in the sleeve beside the phonograph, and left it for Koushiro to sort. Then he loaded the new one and positioned the needle. The sound of a snare drum uncoiled a wad of tension in Yamato's shoulders. He hadn't realized how much he was struggling in the crowded house, aware of guards watching him from the corner of each room. The company was lovely, and being able to go out like this was exactly what he wanted, and yet...

Yamato smiled ruefully at the turning record. Predictably, his introversion didn't magically vanish when he opted to be social. He was out of practice at parties. And at casually spending time with friends.

And at having them.

Someone approached behind him, and Yamato glanced up. "That's a good choice," Koushiro said. "This group is popular."

"I've been eager to hear them. Do you mind if I keep looking?"

"Go right ahead." As Yamato flipped through the records, Koushiro retreated, then returned with a foot stool. "Would you like this?"

"You sit," Yamato replied. "You've probably been on your feet all day, preparing."

"That's true," Koushiro agreed. "It feels a bit odd, though."

That was all it took to shove Yamato on guard. "When I'm at your party, I'm a friend, not a prince-"

"And my guest," Koushiro replied, nonplussed. Yamato's head whipped around, shocked that Koushiro pushed back. He desperately groped for a response, for a way to tease- as friends do.

"Huh. That's funny, considering you have Iori-kun carving meat and Daisuke-kun cooking."

Koushiro's wince suggested that he had stepped on a nail. "Don't remind me. My mother would have words to say..."

Sighing, Koushiro sank onto the foot stool, putting himself closer to Yamato's kneeling level. "Do you see anything interesting?"

Yamato snorted. "All of them."

"Come by any time, then. And I'm sure the Tachikawas wouldn't mind extending the shop's hours a bit, if you wanted to browse alone. There's also the campus library."

Yamato's hand froze on a record. "I'd... like all of those things. You really don't mind if I visit?"

"I'd enjoy that. Eimi would, too, especially if you bring your dog. She's been asking how big I think he is."

"Whatever she thinks, double it." Yamato grinned. A chance to show off Roncier was a treat. He imagined walking the sidewalks of Nagano with his dog, visiting a friend, like any other local youth. "You have yourself a deal."

"Good. Let me know what you'd like to eat when you visit."

A few minutes passed without conversation, at least between them. The room buzzed with chatter, movement, laughter, and currently, a beautiful saxophone solo. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable- in fact, Koushiro gave the impression of breathing deeply, taking a moment to rest. And yet...

Yamato pulled out the next record. It appeared to be music from Innisfree, and the sleeve featured an image of rolling green hills ending in a rocky cliff, with sea and sky beyond. He hadn't been to Innisfree; this ocean was not his. Still, it reminded him of home, causing pain that he wasn't prepared to deal with.

"Can I ask you something? If it's too personal, let me know."

Koushiro seemed to stir, as if rising from a daze. "Mm?"

Yamato stared at the image, lips in a tight, thin line. Why was this question on his mind? Was it the townhome, alive with friendship and warm with the promise of love? Was it the picture in his hands, this home that wasn't home? The reminder of what he missed, what he longed for? He couldn't say, and he lacked the processing power to keep trying.

Almost aggressively, embarrassed by his need to know, Yamato demanded, "How did you fall in love with Eimi-chan? Did you know right away?"

Books and films made falling in love seem easy, instinctive- unavoidable, even. Sometimes a sweet surrender, sometimes a tragic fate, always inevitable. In his world, it was just an agreement, a mutually beneficial trade.

He wanted to know what it felt like. He worried he somehow couldn't- or that he wouldn't be permitted to.

Koushiro's impressive eyebrows bounced; he looked as shocked as he should, given the question. "I, I beg your pardon?"

Yamato grimaced at the image that wasn't quite home, but felt closer than here. "Sorry. Nevermind."

The movement of Koushiro leaning closer caught Yamato's eye, and he looked without meaning to. Koushiro seemed taken aback, but not affronted or uncomfortable. He offered an unsure smile. "No, it's fine. I just... Hm, well, I'm not sure how to answer..."

"I can wait," Yamato said, smiling ruefully. "It's a strange question."

"A moment, then, please." Yamato nodded, and Koushiro's eyes averted. He took slow sips of what looked like whiskey.

"It certainly wasn't immediate," Koushiro replied at last. "We met in a music composition class, and she was far more advanced than me. I asked for assistance, and we made fast friends. And she took to Iori-kun right away when I introduced her, and..."

Koushiro's brow furrowed, but the far-off look in his eyes was happy, like someone gazing fondly at a photo album. "Suddenly, my group of one intimate friend doubled."

"Were you attracted to her?" Yamato hoped he didn't sound skeptical or incredulous. This story wasn't unfolding the way he expected it to.

Koushiro shook his head. "I tend not to notice that sort of thing, although I certainly found her voice beautiful. I'm afraid there isn't a particular moment, a turning point in our relationship. It was like..."

The dreaminess that seemed so at odds with his typical focus faded. Koushiro cupped his chin and tipped his head, the very picture of a baffled intellectual.

"Iori-kun spends the night here often."

"Oh?" Yamato popped a single eyebrow. What did Iori have to do with Koushiro falling for Eimi?

As if he had asked aloud, Koushiro held a hand up, palm out. "A moment, please, and I'll explain. I've been blessed with more friends than I ever would have thought I'd make; I'm prone to staying indoors and working or learning. I care deeply for them, but my parents and Iori-kun… They're at another level of intimacy, separate from everyone else. I miss them and wonder how they're doing. When those thoughts grow too loud, I invite them over. It became simpler to offer a standing invitation to visit any time. My parents, I think, are trying to give me space to come into myself as an adult. But Iori-kun spends most nights here."

"I see," Yamato murmured. "You're saying that they're family- and eventually, you started thinking of Eimi-chan that way, too."

"Right. Eimi became even more than a close friend. She was my family."

"I understand that much." For Yamato, that was Takeru, Jyou, and Roncier, but the thought of dating any of them was, ah, off-putting. "But how did you know you were romantically interested in her?"

Koushiro released a ragged sigh. His forearms were against his knees, propping him up. The sight of him looking so weary nearly made Yamato snort, and he desperately snatched the next record. Laughing at a man for answering his intrusive questions was not a good look.

"I'm afraid I'm less inclined towards romance than most people seem to be, and far less skilled. I hate to say so, but the concept that I might have feelings for her first came from classmates and friends. Initially, I told them that we were close platonic friends, but over time, I did start to wonder..."

Grimacing, Koushiro rubbed the back of his neck. "I truly hate to admit this, but... Well, you might understand the pressure. My parents are patient, but I know they're hoping for an heir. With friends bringing up the possibility that there could be something between Eimi and me, I began to wonder if a mutually beneficial partnership was at hand. After all, I already wanted to offer her the platonic living arrangement I have with Iori-kun and my parents."

"An arrangement that would have raised eyebrows between you and a woman, even if you both knew it was platonic," Yamato finished. "And I do understand that pressure, believe me."

"It's embarrassing, in retrospect," Koushiro sighed. "A marriage of convenience? How could I offer her something so trifling, so callous? And yet..."

"You clearly cared about her," Yamato offered. "Thinking of her as family is no small thing."

"I did." Koushiro's hands intertwined and tightened. "Very much so. And I thought, given that Eimi's heritage is mixed, and mine is entirely foreign... On paper, it was a good match, even with our class difference, considering that I was adopted from a family with wealth, but no bloodline. Of course, I didn't know about Eimi's family situation at the time."

Yamato knew his forehead was furrowing, and he struggled to clear any confusion or frustration from his expression. He was following Koushiro- the words made sense- and yet, the conversation was somehow incomprehensible. "So you were considering making a mutually beneficial marriage offer."

"Right," Koushiro agreed. "And yet, doubts remained. I missed Eimi when we were apart, and I wanted to share so much more of myself than I could show her in short meetings on campus. But I wondered... Was I being fair to her? Was I using her by offering a courtship, knowing that the potential for a home and economic security might sway her? I didn't understand everything about her background, but at this point, I knew she was a scholarship student who could not live in Nagano without the university's support."

"Marriages of convenience are the norm in our sphere," Yamato said gently. "Don't be hard on yourself."

"Agreed. And yet... I found that I didn't want Eimi to potentially miss out on a partner who loved her the way I understood love from people around me, and from media. But then... The more trusted loved ones brought it up, the more casual acquaintances mentioned it... The more I wondered if I was missing some cue that everyone else could see. I even began to wonder if..."

Koushiro paused and glanced about the room. No one seemed to be eavesdropping, but Yamato leaned closer, so Koushiro could lower his volume.

"This… isn't a thing I like to discuss," he murmured. "But I wondered if something was wrong with me, if I was missing the capacity for romantic love. If I didn't feel it for Eimi, whom I regarded and valued so highly, easily as much as my childhood friend... Then for whom would I feel it? No one, in my experience."

"No one, really?" Yamato hoped he didn't sound too incredulous. In truth, he had never fallen in love, but he knew when someone was attractive. So far, he hadn't followed up on that, but the concept of romance seemed straightforward enough- at least, without royal restrictions in the way.

Koushiro shook his head. "But when even Iori-kun and my parents brought it up, I wondered... Should I try to shift how I saw her? So the next time we were together, I tried physically getting closer to her. She seemed to welcome it, so... I offered her my arm when we walked, helped her up from chairs, that sort of thing."

Yamato felt that he deserved an award for resisting the urge to slap a hand to his forehead. "Koushiro-kun... That's... Standard etiquette." Nobles were trained in social protocols, which included attending to people around them. Knowing Koushiro, he probably found an acceptable way to substitute for these behaviors, but performing them was free of romantic nuance- unless one opted to add it, of course.

Koushiro offered a rueful smile. "I've always seen that as debonair, or a little uncomfortable, somehow. More intimate than I can be with acquaintances. But with Eimi... She, she smiled so much when I..." A lump slid down his throat. "Contributing to her comfort, making her happy… It felt… Good."

"I see. You started noticing that she was interested in you." Yamato wished he could shove the words back in his mouth, although Koushiro didn't react with offense. Was having someone's love reason enough to love them, in turn? It felt callous to suggest that, somehow. But then, knowing someone cared for you had to be endearing, unless that affection was unwelcome.

After all, as much as he tried not to admit it… Wasn't that what Yamato wanted? To be seen and loved for who he was? He was mostly looking for friends, but if romance came along… Why not explore it, if he could figure out how, given his situation?

"Iori-kun told me as much- that she is visibly brighter when I..." Color tinged his face, and Koushiro glanced away. "Forgive me. It feels pompous to say it. But slowly, things began to shift, and I started to see Eimi as... Well, as a romantic partner. And suddenly, refraining from making an offer was unbearable."

Koushiro's language seemed to imply that things moved slowly, but Yamato couldn't get a sense of a time line. "How long did all of this take?"

Koushiro's shoulders inched up as his expression went sheepish. "About three years..."

"Three years!" The record sleeve slipped from his hand, and Yamato fumbled after it.

"It's okay to go at your own pace," Koushiro murmured- a touch defensively, Yamato noticed, a new emotion from him. "And it's okay for your experiences to feel different than the norm. Besides, our understanding of social norms is dependent upon our backgrounds, the media we consume, and the people we meet. It's perceived, and perception and reality are two different things."

Koushiro seemed prepared to expand on this topic, but Yamato cradled his forehead with one hand and held the other out. "Wait, wait. What do you mean, perception is different than reality?"

Koushiro's mouth snapped shut; he seemed to require a moment to shift gears. "Well… Imagine you're Kido-sensei, and you need glasses. If he takes them off, the world is blurry, correct?"

"Extremely correct," Yamato replied, grinning.

"But the world isn't actually blurry; Kido-sensei's eyes simply perceive it that way. If he wears corrective lenses, then his perception becomes closer to reality. Humans filter the world through our sense organs, which are imperfect. And we aren't equipped to sense some forces at all, such as magnetic fields."

"Are you just... Ready to bust lectures out at a moment's notice?" Koushiro had to be smart, given his job, but other than watching him use machinery in the sound booth, this was Yamato's first look at how his mind worked. He was impressed, but found Koushiro's enthusiasm both endearing and overwhelming.

When Koushiro's mouth snapped shut, Yamato knew he had erred. "Pardon me. I don't intend to talk down to you-"

"You're not. I asked," Yamato replied. "You're saying that the way any one person describes the world may not be accurate for everyone."

"That's what I believe," Koushiro agreed. "One can argue that there are as many worlds as there are sentient beings to experience them. And I've only mentioned differences in physical senses."

"I see..." Yamato had no idea what he thought of Koushiro's perspective, except that it was unusual for a twenty-three year old. But he had the feeling that, later, when he was alone, he would mull it over- that is, it resonated with him on some level.

"You know, I can't help envying you," Yamato murmured. He expected Koushiro to express confusion; after all, Yamato was a prince. But he merely looked a little uncomfortable.

"When I first thought of throwing this party, I wanted to ensure the food was eaten. That's a long story, forgive me. Then, I realized that I wanted to share the good news with my friends. But as people began arriving, I did wonder if I was bragging..."

Reassuring others wasn't his strong suit. Yamato took a moment to think, rather than snap his first sharp thought. Gently (by his standards, anyway), he said, "This kind of celebration is normal. No one thinks you're showing off."

"I hope that's the case. But even I... I can't believe..."

Koushiro sighed, and once again, his voice lowered. "Again, bragging isn't my intention, but I always find myself so... So humbled. My birth parents died, but I was taken in by two people who gave me all of their love and treated me as their own. I was educated in our country's top schools, and I already have a job I enjoy. I have my parents and Iori-kun. And we have so many wonderful friends... And now, sharing all of that with Eimi..."

Koushiro's voice wobbled, and he cleared his throat and took a deep pull from his glass. His eyes were suddenly wet, and Yamato stared, gobsmacked by the sudden emotional turn. "It feels as though there is someone I should be writing a million thank you notes to."

While it was annoying to hear someone admit how great their life was, Yamato knew hundreds of people even more blessed than Koushiro who thought the world owed them everything they had- and demanded more, besides. He was far better equipped than most to recognize Koushiro's humility, and to value it.

"You know, if you weren't so damned earnest about it, you'd be annoying," Yamato replied. Like Koushiro, he judged it time for a large serving of alcohol. He swallowed his whiskey and wondered how acceptable it was to get more.

Koushiro wiped his eyes and offered a wobbly smile. "Heh. P-pardon."

"No, I brought it up myself. And I admire you, really. I have no idea what I want out of life, nor how much I'll be able to decide for myself. These days, I feel so jerked along-"

His mouth snapped abruptly shut. What am I doing, dumping my feelings on Koushiro-kun at a party?! In truth, Yamato knew that humans were social creatures who often practiced mirroring. Koushiro was being vulnerable with him, so he was responding in kind. But damn, it was embarrassing.

"I'm sorry," Koushiro gently replied. "I can't imagine what that's like."

"Don't apologize. You've helped me more than you know. I haven't been out with friends like this in ages." Yamato sighed and took a generous pull from his drink. "What am I doing, brooding at a party? Do you mind if I change the subject?"

Koushiro ran a hand up his face, taking the swath of curly hair over his forehead with it. Yamato watched it settle into a new fluffy, haphazard style. "I would genuinely enjoy that."

Yamato snorted, then rose to flip the finished record over. When the other side started playing, he began perusing the records once more. He had another subject on his mental to-do list, but it wasn't a comfortable one. He kept his eyes on the sleeves, unwilling to look at Koushiro.

"Can I ask about Mimi-chan, for Jyou's sake? The café employees say he's interested in her."

"Mimi-san? Well... I feel odd commenting on someone in that way, but... She's a loyal friend with a positive outlook. I will say that, in the three to four years I've known her, she's only dated casually."

Meaning Jyou might have a chance for dates, but not much more. Yamato wasn't sure if he was the type to have a mutually good time without developing feelings. As much as he wanted Jyou to have fun, protecting his heart was also important.

"I see. Thanks. I also wanted to ask about your relationship with Yagami-kun. You seem to interact with him in a... unique way."

Koushiro grinned. "Is it that obvious? It's true, Taichi-san has a habit of getting under my skin, but that means we're close. He's older than me, so we weren't classmates, but we've spent time together at the café, and we're on the same recreational soccer team."

"Soccer?" Taichi's athletic build and tan made him a believable soccer player, but Koushiro?

"Shocking, I know," Koushiro replied, grinning. "Taichi-san invited me; he graciously pointed out that I looked like I had never seen the sun. It's true that I don't get much exercise, and more airing out does me good. So... Yes, I play recreational soccer. Poorly."

"You're a man of many dimensions, Koushiro-kun," Yamato sighed. "Do you think I could join you sometimes?" Now wouldn't that be something, watching guards patrol a soccer field, and likely fret over his every move?

"I don't see why not. You can take my spot, if there isn't an opening that day."

"I'd hate to deprive you of a rare chance for exercise-"

"Yamato-san, are you going to start talking to me the way Taichi-san does?"

"Like a friend?" Although he smiled, Yamato's back tensed. Would Koushiro welcome this? Was bantering going too hard, too fast?

Koushiro heaved a sigh, but Yamato caught the hint of a grin as he drank. "Then, as friends, I suppose I can tell you about my other friends."

Yamato exhaled and relaxed, watching Koushiro's eyebrows bunch with thought. "Taichi-san is a laid back person, but he has a way of taking too much on his shoulders. I've always admired that he treats everyone equally, and that he leads by example."

Yamato tried to maintain a neutral expression. Apparently, Taichi garnered high praise from Koushiro, whose opinion Yamato already respected. "Taking too much on his shoulders... Like working two jobs because his sister is ill?"

Koushiro seemed to wilt, his thin shoulders drooping forward. "Poor Hikari-san..."

"What is his sister going through, exactly?"

Koushiro shook his fluffy head, staring into his cup. "That's the problem, I'm afraid. She's seen several doctors about a chronic condition that comes and goes, but she can't get a diagnosis or a referral to a specialist. The doctors are insinuating, or telling her outright, that there is no problem."

"How could there be no problem if she's too ill to work?" Yamato tried not to show it, but this situation deeply troubled him. Were doctors really doing so poorly by the Yagamis? If so, they were unlikely to be the only family suffering. He hoped there was some kind of mistake or misunderstanding, but that scenario seemed less likely with every exchange.

"I don't know. That's why Taichi-san is so frustrated with the medical world. You mentioned wanting more ties to Nagano's young adult population. The Yagamis aren't noble, but they are upper middle class merchants. They're well liked and well known locally. If Kido-sensei can get Hikari-san a diagnosis..."

Yamato shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not looking to benefit from a young woman's health problems," he whispered.

"And you weren't seeking to benefit from my problems, either," Koushiro agreed. "But if both sides can mutually benefit..."

Yamato smiled, but something inside him twisted. Mutual benefit. His world lived and breathed on the concept. It didn't feel good, and yet...

Well, he couldn't conceive of anything wrong with helping Hikari, even if he earned a good reputation with the locals in turn. And wasn't Hikari friends with Sora? That alone was enough reason to help her.

"I'll talk to Jyou. You have my word."

Koushiro leaned forward, briefly placing a hand on Yamato's shoulder. "That means a lot to all of us. Thank you."

He wondered what Hikari must be like, to be so beloved by the café. Or maybe they simply took care of their own- which was something Yamato could get behind.

"What was Yagami-kun's major? He mentioned he isn't a student." Yamato knew better than to ask directly, but he wondered why a university graduate was working as a barista, especially when he had the option to work for his family's successful business.

"Oh..." Koushiro began toying with his glass, rotating it. "Well... He earned a degree in political sciences."

"Politics?" Yamato resisted the urge to wince. Extricating himself from the world of politics was his greatest wish. He was baffled by people who entered that sphere by choice. "He's in the right place for it."

"Well, yes. But, ah... I believe I mentioned that the Yagamis aren't nobility."

Yamato blinked. Information collided in his mind, connections forming and sorting by likelihood of accuracy. The language of politics and protocol was insufferably indirect, and speakers always had their own agendas. The ability to read between the lines was practically a survival skill for nobles… And Yamato didn't like what he was seeing. "Surely he looked up the requirements for serving in whatever capacity he planned to before pursuing the degree."

Koushiro's head tipped to the side as he hesitated. "I'm… not comfortable extrapolating on that. I can say that, lately, I've wondered..."

When Koushiro trailed off, Yamato prompted, "Wondered what?"

With visible reluctance, Koushiro continued, "Well... It's difficult for a commonborn person to win an office. They can serve local governments as clerks, or as assistants to politicians in office. But to actually represent constituents..."

"There aren't many offices allowing that without a bloodline tied to the local area. And even offices that don't officially call for that... If a noble person is running, they're unlikely to lose."

"Correct. Nobles have names that voters have heard of, and they can afford a campaign. They can also trade favors with the wealthy or other nobles in exchange for the sway and backing they need to win office."

Koushiro glanced about the room, checking if anyone was listening. Then, he leaned closer and whispered, "A political office is considered a worthy livelihood. Nobles want their children nicely settled in such roles, and they are often willing to throw money behind those efforts. Running against a noble is... Unlikely to pan out in favor of the common born candidate."

Yamato's jaw clenched tight. He had dealt with a lifetime's worth of useless nobles in important to middling political positions. It was rare to work with politicians who wanted to fight on behalf of their constituents. At best, they were there to have a respectable job where they did next to nothing. At worst, they actively lobbied for their own personal interests, often at the expense of their voters.

"This might not be the best venue for this discussion," Yamato whispered, taking note of the nobles present.

"Agreed." Koushiro stood, then picked up his stool. "And I shouldn't speak for Taichi-san, regardless."

"That's fair. Sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable position."

Yamato stood as Koushiro replied, "Not at all. I'd be willing to continue the discussion in private."

Before Yamato could respond, someone called, "Hey, Koushiro?" Yamato turned as Daisuke entered the living room, grinning from ear to ear. "Dinner's ready! How about that Kana-san, huh? What a chef! I'm drooling, let's eat!"

Koushiro smiled, and so did Yamato, pleased with the timely distraction. "She is a wonderful chef. Thank you for helping her."

"Are you kidding? I want to study under her!" Daisuke laughed.

"I'm sure she'll be pleased to hear it. Let me find Eimi, and we'll announce dinner. Would you like a drink?"

"Good idea," Daisuke said. He backtracked to the hallway in search of alcohol.

XXX

Yamato was no stranger to fine food, and impressively, the dinner at Koushiro and Eimi's party ranked among his favorites. This was partially due to its bizarreness- a baffling mix of whatever Koushiro confessed to thinking might impress Eimi, or make her happy. The result was a culinary cacophony of expensive fare and everyday dishes he knew she enjoyed. Even so, the atmosphere and companionship of the night was what stood out.

Yamato didn't have to ask Koushiro how he expected Eimi to eat all of this by herself; everyone else asked for him. Dinner was a teasing, chaotic affair, with people sitting wherever they could. The dining table was crammed with every chair in the house, and elbows knocked at the table. The kitchen and counters were likewise packed, with more people eating at the sofa and coffee table in the living room, and at the desk in the office. Yamato hadn't seen anything like it since completing his schooling; a bunch of friends happily ignoring those noble manners in favor of including everyone and having a good time.

Yamato should have focused on meeting new people, but he mostly stuck to Sora, Taichi, Ken, and Daisuke at dinner, plus whoever approached to chat. He was relieved that no one expected him to meet everyone, or to assume the role of master of ceremonies. He simply listened to the happy chatter around him, accepted the occasional introduction, and responded when he felt he had something meaningful to add. But mostly, he listened, soaking in the easy, friendly atmosphere, eating the strangest assortment of food he had ever assembled on a plate, got pleasantly tipsy, and tried to remember any useful information.

The dinner seemed to go on forever, with people going back for more and moving about the first floor, rotating groups. When enough food was claimed from the kitchen table, Iori and Kana laid out dessert, much to the wonder of the guests. Yamato would have happily stayed for the duration of the party, but he noticed Sora engaging less in conversation over time, until she went nearly silent. Then, her back and shoulders fell against her dining chair, breaking that strict iemoto heiress posture. When her eyes drifted shut, Yamato leaned in and clasped her shoulder.

"Sora?" he murmured.

Sora jumped, and Yamato gently pressed down, a soothing gesture. "Sorry to startle you. Do you need to go?"

"Oh... No, it's too, too..." An enormous yawn interrupted her sentence. Taichi broke off from his conversation with Daisuke and scowled.

"Sora, you've got to sleep. How many hours straight have you been up?"

"I'm not, not working the baking shift tomorrow."

"Good, but I'm asking about today."

Sora's mouth thinned to a hard, annoyed line. She didn't respond, so Yamato did the math. If she had a baking shift today, starting in the small hours of the morning, then by almost ten at night...

"Let's say goodnight," he suggested.

"But the party isn't over," Sora objected.

"That's alright. I know Koushiro-kun and Eimi-chan are glad that you came, and want you to take care of yourself."

"That's true," Taichi agreed. A smirk turned his face roguish. "Or would you rather pass out, face down, at their table?"

"Ugghhh," Sora groaned, and Yamato found himself laughing. What was it about Taichi that made his friends show sides of themselves that Yamato hadn't seen before? Eimi's easy hug, Koushiro's sass, Sora's open irritation...

Taichi seemed to be the type to make everyone a little more honest, somehow. Maybe there is something to his political goals...

Sora grabbed her cup of water and drank the remainder. "I don't want to inconvenience you, Yamato-san..."

"Not at all," he replied. "I'll call a car, alright? Start saying goodnight while I do."

Before Sora could argue, he stood, and Taichi leaned in, engaging her in conversation, running distraction. Yamato approached Koushiro and Eimi, who sat at the head of the table with Iori and some classmates Yamato had only just met.

"Excuse me," Yamato murmured. "Could I please use your phone? Sora-san is having trouble staying awake."

"Oh no, how long has she been up?" Eimi popped out of her chair and wobbled. Koushiro grasped her hip, but it was Iori who actually steadied her.

"Careful," Iori said dryly.

From the way Eimi swayed, Yamato suspected that she was more drunk than tipsy. She swatted Iori's hand, but Koushiro murmured, "Don't- Here." He slipped his hand in hers. Yamato expected her to fuss over that, too, but she allowed Koushiro to steady her as he stood.

"There's a phone in the living room," Koushiro offered. "Eimi, please wait here with Iori-kun."

"I'm fine," Eimi sighed.

"You're drunk." Iori echoed her cadence, clearly enjoying himself.

"Well, everyone kept bringing me drinks!" Eimi snapped. "But Yamato-san, it's okay. Don't worry. We understand about Sora-san's schedule. I'm so glad you both could come."

"Let me show you to the phone," Koushiro said. Yamato followed him to the living room, where people were still picking at desserts and nursing digestive drinks.

They stopped by the telephone on an end table. "Thank you," Yamato said. "And thank you for inviting me. I had a great time."

"Of course we invited you. It's thanks to you that Eimi finally recorded her album, and that... Well, that we finally came to an understanding." Koushiro's smile went rueful. "But even with all of that... It was Eimi's idea to invite you. I admit that I assumed you'd be too busy."

"Really?" Yamato slipped his hands into his pockets as he considered. "I never would have guessed that Eimi-chan suggested it." He couldn't say exactly why he was so bothered. Guilt, perhaps, for allowing her fear of his title- a natural fear, all things considered- to color his opinion of her? Frustration, that terrible knowledge that most people approached him with wariness or an opportunistic mindset? Or perhaps fear, since he relied on the ability to assess others quickly as a prince, and it was clearly imperfect?

"She's carried so much for so long," was Koushiro's gentle response. "I admit that I'm biased in her favor, but... I'm confident that, in time, you'll come to see a more accurate picture of her."

"That's how it works for anyone, isn't it?" Yamato was trying to lighten the mood; he suddenly felt awkward about having placed Eimi in the box of 'timid.'

"That's true," was Koushiro's generous response.

Yamato cleared his throat. "Well, I do have obligations, but so do we all. I'd be grateful if you extended invitations you want to extend to me, regardless."

"I'll keep that in mind. And my offer for you to visit and listen to records, or to borrow them, stands."

"Alright," Yamato said. "I'll look forward to it."

"Good evening, then. Thank you for coming. I'll see you out when your ride arrives."

Yamato knew better than to argue with a host about his perceived duties, so he thanked Koushiro for the millionth time and placed his call. After the ride was arranged, he returned to the dining room to find Eimi chatting with Sora, having swapped seats with Taichi. From this angle, it looked like Eimi was basically talking at Sora, enthusiastically chattering while Sora nodded along. Yamato grinned as he joined them, passing the time until their ride came.

A few minutes later, a guard approached Yamato. "Your Highness, your ride has arrived."

"Thank you," Yamato said, standing. He offered Sora his hand, and she accepted his help up.

Eimi hugged Sora. "Thanks for coming! Rest well, okay?"

Sora tried and failed to suppress a yawn. "I don't think I have much choice."

The party guests in the dining room said their farewells, and Yamato hovered beside Eimi. What was the most appropriate way to say goodbye to her? She hugged Taichi and Ken, but that might not be appropriate or welcome between them. Yamato fought the urge to sigh. Formal events were stuffy, but there was, at least, a code of clear expectations to follow. Causal situations were far more open ended.

Eventually, Yamato could no longer take the uncertainty. With an abruptness that likely surprised her, he said, "Good night, Eimi-chan. Thank you for having me."

"Oh! Um, thank you for coming!" The way Eimi startled and shifted her weight seemed a touch guilty, or at least distressed. Yamato wondered if she was struggling socially, too... Which was confirmed when she leaned in and whispered, "Is there an etiquette to saying goodnight to you?"

Yamato grinned, amused that they were suffering over the same meaningless problem, and somehow, both equally out of their depth. He leaned in, playing along, like a conspirator. "In some situations, yes. In this one, no."

"Why not?" When Eimi tipped her head, her upper body followed, to the point where Yamato wondered if he should steady her.

"Because it's a casual goodbye among friends."

Her eyes seemed to brighten as she whispered, "Really? Will the guard yell at me if I hug you?"

"Depends on how threatening you are about it." Yamato opened his arms, wary of forcing contact. Laughing, Eimi bridged the gap for a brief hug.

"Good night! Thanks for taking care of Sora-san!"

"Yes." Yamato was so relieved to be accepted that he agreed before processing Eimi's comment. It wasn't his job to ensure Sora got home safely. He could remain at the party and focus on meeting new people, knowing that palace staff would see Sora home.

He could... But it wasn't remotely tempting, and not because he disliked the party. "I'm happy to help."

Eimi smiled, but Yamato found himself looking at Sora. It was difficult to read her expression- exhaustion was the dominant mood- but something seemed to be happening in her eyes, if sluggishly. She managed a tiny smile that he couldn't quite parse.

Fortunately, Sora's obvious sleepiness discouraged guests from prolonging the goodbye process. When Yamato offered his arm, Sora gripped it with both hands, nearly hanging off it. When they walked to the party, she didn't put weight on him. Now, Yamato wondered if he should hold onto her waist for support.

Then they were on the stoop outside the front door, and cold air slapped him, chilling away the soporific effect of a full stomach. Sora shuddered into him, and suddenly, Yamato found his arm around her.

"It's freezing," he murmured. "Lean on me."

He expected, and even feared, that she would hesitate, or outright turn him away. Yamato couldn't say why rejection of a simple courtesy felt so terrifying- although he was ignoring that offering to huddle for warmth wasn't a courtesy, like offering an escort.

But Sora simply sighed and leaned into him. Just in case, Yamato supported her elbow with his other hand, ensuring that she didn't stumble on the steps with exhausted, tipsy feet. As if reading his mind, Sora muttered, "I'm not drunk."

"Of course," Yamato replied easily, as a man never called a woman drunk unless he wanted to irritate her. "But Jyou says being awake for more than nineteen consecutive hours is like being drunk, in terms of cognitive impairment."

He expected her to snap or complain, but Sora turned surprised eyes to him. "Really?"

"So I'm told."

Sora's brow furrowed as her eyes pinched shut. "Ugh. Don't tell my mother- or Taichi. They always have something to say about my sleep schedule."

Expressing that he agreed with them was clearly not the smart play, so he replied, "My lips are sealed." And now, the treacherous steps were safely navigated. Yamato walked Sora to the curb, where a car from the palace idled. He wanted to open the door for her, but an attendant already stood by the car, waiting to do just that. Yamato felt his expression blanking, shifting to that familiar prince's mask.

He was no longer a friend attending a party. Yamato was His Highness once more.

He helped her sit, then swallowed a sigh as the attendant jogged to the opposite door to open it for him. Finally, he was in the god damned car, biting back a sarcastic, "What, you're not buckling my seatbelt, too?"

When the attendant was seated in the front passenger seat, the car began to move. "Café du Ciel, please," Yamato said, although the driver likely already knew where they were going.

"Certainly, Your Highness."

"Thank you," Sora murmured- although whether to him or the driver, Yamato wasn't certain.

Yamato shifted closer, aware of the men in the front. "Sora... I know you don't want to be picked at for this, but... Are you doing too much?"

"I'm already going home early," Sora whispered back. Her tone warned Yamato off the subject.

"Alright," he replied, reluctantly. There was plenty he wanted to say, but Sora was sagging against her seat belt. What was the point of arguing with someone who was half asleep?

With that decided, Yamato left her alone. He gazed through his window for glimpses of the passing scenery, sequential illuminated frames rising from the dark spots between street lamps.

The ride was under five minutes long. The driver stopped in front of the café, and the attendant wisely opened Yamato's door first, then went around for Sora's. She slipped her hand into Yamato's and let him ease her to her feet. She didn't protest when he offered his arm, either.

"I'll walk you in, if you don't mind."

Sora managed a dry laugh. "It would be faster than arguing- and I'm cold."

"It would," Yamato agreed, his tone so reasonable that Sora laughed again. "But I don't want to push you."

"No, I'm grateful," Sora sighed. "I'm just tired and grumpy."

"Almost there," Yamato reassured her. Sora unlocked the café's front door, and they stepped inside.

He intended to walk her to the stairs, but Sora said, "I need to lock the front door behind me."

"Right." Feeling somewhat foolish, Yamato continued, "Thanks for the walk earlier. I enjoyed it."

"I did, too. I'm sorry I wasn't up for walking back."

Yamato snorted. "In this cold?"

"That's true!" There was an odd pause, and Yamato shifted his weight. Why was he idling in her foyer?

"Well, good night," he managed, and thank the gods for that. But what should he do now? Tip his hat? Bow? Hug her? Hugging his hostess as he left, particularly when she was celebrating, was normal.

But then, wasn't hugging a friend?

"Good night," Sora returned. Noting the way her legs bowed, Yamato opted to tip his hat and leave, before she tipped over herself.

When he slipped back in the car, he felt oddly disappointed, although he couldn't say with whom, nor why. Cold inside as well as out, he wondered…

After a night's respite, an evening of camaraderie, how long would it take for that familiar loneliness to return?

Author's Notes: Looking back, it's odd to recall the time when I didn't really understand Yamato. He seems so simple and relateable now, just an enormous teddy bear whose feelings are bigger than he can manage. And he's painfully aware of that, to the point where he gets prickly over it, which of course exacerbates everything. He loves his loved ones so much! It's embarrassing! It ticks him off! He's lonely! He will die for his loved ones, but he struggles to interact with them! Please help him! What a disaster, I adore him.

There are times in PdA where I struggle with his princely talk and honorifics. The number of times I've deleted, "Back off, Taichi!" or something similar…! Hopefully, as long as he continues to be in his head about stuff, Prince Yamma Jammas still feels right, lol!

I'm not sure if I will update this story or Tri: Integrity Lens next, but either way, you'll see me soon! Take care!