The distinctive sound of shoji doors sliding open did not distract Shisui as his brush glided gracefully across the rice canvas, where an elegant crane came to life on the shores of a shimmering lake.
Each stroke was deliberate, a reflection of his state of mind as he navigated the tumultuous waters of court politics, however temporarily.
He put his brush away and looked at Prince Itachi, who sat cross-legged on the empty zabuton in front of the low table. Steam swirled lazily from the green teapot between them, filling the air with a warmth that was inviting and soothing.
Itachi's presence was a balm against the arguments that had consumed Shisui's thoughts for days—conversations filled with tiresome debates among the ministers of the Fire Court over the crown prince's lack of engagement.
Shisui had been clear in his resolve: he would not marry until he ascended the throne. Yet here he was, fulfilling the role of temporary ruler in Madara's absence, feeling the weight of responsibility weigh heavily upon his shoulders. His uncle had once told him that the throne was a great honor, but it was also a lonely burden, but Shisui had been prepared for this burden from a young age when Madara-ojisan had chosen him as his successor. He would not disappoint him now.
"Your Highness, would you like some tea?" Itachi asked, his tone formal, but his voice soft enough to convey familiarity. He knew the crown prince had just come from yet another interminable meeting, so Itachi wanted to ease some of the older man's tension.
"Don't be so formal with me, 'Tachi-chan," Shisui chided, frowning. "This is my private pavilion; we can talk freely. Aoba-san will not tell anyone what we said." he added, gesturing toward the man dressed in a dark kimono, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his katana, standing outside near the engawa.
As Itachi poured them tea, a comfortable silence enveloped the room. It was broken, however, by Shisui's teasing tone. "I heard a painting of the Moon Tribe arrived recently. Is Hikari-oujo as beautiful as rumor has it, 'Tachi-chan?" His eyes glinted with mischief, eager to draw Itachi out of his usual stoicism.
Itachi shook his head, the practiced indifference etched on his face, providing a stark contrast to Shisui's playful demeanor. "I haven't looked at the painting."
Shisui nearly choked on his tea, laughter bubbling up in his chest. "No? Don't you want to know what she looks like? Some painters exaggerate the beauty of young maidens to make them seem even more beautiful, but the ojisan always said that the Hyūga clan is heavenly beautiful, just like us. Is it because our ancestors were related by blood?"
Bending to place the chawan on the low table, Shisui picked up his brush again, his movements fluid and practiced. "When you finally muster up the courage to look at the painting of your future wife, do you want me to accompany you?" His eyes flashed with obvious provocation. "Does this cousin offend you? Please forgive my enthusiasm."
A faint blush crept up Itachi's neck, coloring his ears a bright red. "Stop it. You're just rambling, Shisui-san," he replied, though his voice lacked the authority to suppress the teasing.
Shisui couldn't help but smile, relishing how easy it was to tease Itachi despite his calm exterior.
Their relationship, forged in the fires of shared childhood memories and family ties, had always allowed for such teasing.
It was a welcome relief from the burdens weighing heavily on both of their shoulders.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the silent pavilion, Shisui looked outside, watching the leaves dance in the gentle breeze. The world seemed to slow down, and for a moment, the incessant demands of the court faded into the background. "Tsunade-hime, you are prolonging ojisan's life with your healing arts, but I can't shake the feeling that uncertainty is creeping in." he mused aloud, more to himself than to Itachi, but he felt the need to share the burden of his thoughts.
Itachi's gaze shifted to meet Shisui's, the seriousness of the moment breaking the cheerful atmosphere in an instant. "You are handling everything well. No one questions your strength or your ability to rule, even in Madara-ojisan's absence. You must understand that the ministers respect you, even if they are incessantly pushing for a marriage alliance to ensure stability."
Shisui sighed, the weight of the crown weighing him down. "Stability? Or control? There's a fine line between the two, and I refuse to be a pawn in your games. I will marry when I'm ready, when I can choose a partner not just out of duty, but out of love."
Itachi nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Your Highness sounds like a romantic man." His voice was low but playful. "Unfortunately, in our position that's a luxury we don't have. You're aware of that. Shisui-san, you're just delaying the inevitable."
"You always seem to know how to cause trouble, don't you?" Shisui retorted, but a sigh escaped him. Itachi was right. "Perhaps after you marry your beautiful moon princess, I'll consider it, but I have no intention of marrying any relative of those idiot ministers."
Itachi looked at this person helplessly. "Shisui-san, you're a bully."
The moment stretched out, filled only with the soft clink of teacups and the distant chirping of crickets outside.
Shisui returned to his painting, the elegant crane capturing his focus, but his thoughts remained on the conversation, the weight of potential futures swirling like autumn leaves caught in a gust.
"Perhaps I'm merely suggesting that—" Itachi began, but paused, considering his next words carefully, his demeanor changing to one of cautious sincerity.
"I see what you mean." Shisui didn't look at him, but there was a hint of a smile in his favorite cousin's voice.
The two cousins sat in contemplative silence, while Itachi watched Shisui lose himself in his painting—his mind clouded with unspoken thoughts, but aware that this person understood him without even saying a word.