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sukirichi · 2 years

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 007 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

c/w. modern royal au. infidelity. angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. suggestive. toxic relationships. mentions of neglect and abuse. hurt and comfort. it’s cringy when suna calls us ‘my love.’ half heartedly edited.

notes. this chapter is dedicated to all my fellow oikawa fuckers, enjoy <33 i’m really in love with how deep his character can be like lowkey he has more personality (as of now) than rintaro lol

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[ SEVEN ] i know you don’t really see my worth. you think you’re the last guy on earth, well, i’ve got news for you. i know i’m not that strong, but it won’t take long

“Would you stop pacing?” Prince Tooru reprimanded. His wife, the ever-so-sweet Maiko, jumped a little at the sting of his voice. She was no longer an alien to his harshness, nor was it anything new for her the way he sent daggers her direction. “It’s an eyesore.”

“My apologies, Your Highness. I just... I’m extremely worried for the Princess.”

The Prince kept flicking through the television. However, behind his uncaring facade, he shared the same sentiments as her. Everyone would be lying if they said the entire manor hadn’t been deadly quiet the entire night, save for the hushed whispers between your servants appalled by Rintaro’s display. Tooru was actually impressed they hadn’t called your parents by now. Your servants watched you grow up and had been loyal to your family for years, yet not a single one of them stopped the Crown Prince from dragging their precious Princess like she was nothing but prey. Then again, Tooru mused, maids from a noble family would never go against the crown.

“You heard what Kiyoomi said. The Princess wants space, and Suna will not let us step a foot outside either. We have no choice but to await her return.”

“Would she even return?”

Hearing the scuffle of her feet rubbing against the carpet one more time, Tooru dragged a palm down his face. “Look. I cannot answer your questions, so can we please just go to sleep?” Sleep, of course, meaning that Prince Tooru enjoyed the luxury of your guest room’s king-sized bed while his wife remained on the couch. Hell, he was kind enough to share the same room as her.

Unbothered by the Prince’s nonchalance, Maiko gazed at her feet and fiddled with her fingers.

“Your Highness, I-I know this sounds far-fetched of me, but would you grant me a small favour? I promise I would repay you generously—”

“If you offer to leave me the fuck alone for a month, I might consider it.”

Maiko’s head snapped up. Her husband held no trace of remorse on his face as he pulled the blankets under his chin, handsome as usual—as all the Princes were—even with his eyes peacefully closed. Such a sight made him look unbelievably gentle with the way soft, brown strands of hair brushed over his forehead. And Maiko, poor Maiko who never learned, had no choice but to swallow her pride and give in to the Prince’s request. Whether it was because she had been in love him with him for the longest time and this was the first, possibly last, chance he would ever hear out, Maiko prioritized your well-being over anything else.

“I...Of course, Your Highness. If it is what you wish.”

Tooru raised a brow in disbelief, eyes narrowed at his wife’s sagging shoulders. Just like that? Ah, but he wasn’t complaining. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Please find the Princess. O-Or at least check up on her, talk to her or something. Anything would be of great help as long as she knew she does not have to face this alone. The Princess is having a hard time and it breaks my heart to imagine she is all by herself—”

“Why don’t you go yourself if you care so badly?”

“Because...” Maiko frowned, “If the Crown Prince catches me, I am done for. He might be far more merciful to you considering you are his brother.”

“That is hilarious,” Tooru couldn’t hold back a guffaw. “You think Rintaro would be less bothered if his brother sought out his damsel in distress of a wife? Oh, how gold. Has it not crossed your mind that Rintaro is oddly possessive over his wife? He thinks either Kiyoomi and I will snag her up.”

“But you will not, so—”

“What if I did, hm?” he challenged. Instantly, Maiko held her breath, awaiting the threat—or rather the possibility—that Tooru didn’t jester. He had always made it clear how he didn’t want her. Expressing at any opportunity he could take about his desire to have had the privilege to choose who he could have been married to, and Maiko knew exactly what he was doing. The Prince, just like now, was simply reminding her the consequences of her actions. But she must have been a true masochist as she remained mum in her spot the longer he continued, sitting up now and tilting his head with a smirk. “The Princess is gorgeous. I could easily choose her over you any day, so let me ask—would you still want me to find her and lend her a shoulder to cry on?”

Be strong, Maiko—was what she must be thinking. And honestly? Tooru thought it was complete, utter bullshit. She could plant her feet on the ground as solidly as she could, but he refused to have his bones buried next to hers.

Maiko had already taken his life.

He should choose his own death now, and if that meant slowly driving a dagger deep into her heart and carving out his to place into the mercy of your hands—because god forbid, you would be death of everyone someday—then Tooru would have no regrets. To have his fate intertwined with yours, whether the outcome may be bitter or would shatter him to pieces, would be honourable. A heaven in comparison to the hell bowing his head at him right now.

“We are family now, Your Highness. She needs us.”

“I take that as a yes?” Tooru mocked. He didn’t wait for her response as he was swiping his car keys off the counter the next second, his jacket shrugged on and halfway out the door before he sang, “As you wish, my dear.”

There are some things Tooru would never admit out loud. One, how he grew up closest to Kiyoomi and Keiji out of their shared love for literature, and that those two brothers of his held one of his most embarrassing secrets on how Tooru loved romantic novels. Jane Austen? He personally booked a theatre all for himself just to watch the film adaptations of her works. Margaret Mitchell? Tooru had handmade notebooks buried deep within his study filled with his favourite lines from her in perfect cursive; the younger version of him fantasizing about what it felt like to yearn for somebody your being felt incomplete without them. Two, how grateful he was deep down that Maiko had asked him to find you, because truth be told, only Rintaro got in his way. He would have ran after you hours ago the moment his bastard brother returned to the manor without his wife in tow. But appearances must be kept, trouble must be avoided if it provided more conflict than entertainment, and looking at it now, Tooru didn’t quite regret his previous actions.

The pitch-black sky felt more comforting than haunting as he pulled out of the driveway and headed to town. Maiko informed him you were at your family’s bed and breakfast, quite possibly asleep, but fuck it, right? Tooru convinced himself he wasn’t doing this for his wife. Never for Maiko, but not quite for you, either. Other than having a miserably pretty face that wasn’t as adored as it should be, and a heart bigger than Maiko was capable of, Tooru came to a conclusion he was doing it for himself.

Yes, he was simply a bored prince. Dragged into the edge of the country with no phones to use since Maiko would just snoop around, and Rintaro didn’t help with the situation by driving everybody apart. Even Kiyoomi seemed more of a bore than usual. So yes, Tooru was fetching you for his own gain, because surely listening to a broken hearted woman weep about her woes sounded far more entertaining than pretending to be asleep back at the manor.

No. He did not care about you at all.

He does not care one bit as he found you minutes later, sulking like a little child on the swings under an old sycamore tree whose leaves danced amongst the wind. He would admit, however, that you were undeniably beautiful. You always had been.

With a fresh face that granted him the luxury of seeing how crestfallen, forlorn eyes could remain dull under the moonlight’s gleam, Tooru tightened his grip on the scotch bottle. He wondered how sadness could look so beguiling on someone—whatnot with the lines of your frown and the absence of light you usually emanated. You sat there unaware of his presence looming overhead of you before you kicked and up high you flew. Skirt flowing at the same time you finally turned your head to look up at the sky, eyes glistening with tears and kissable lips quivering with slow, shuddered breaths he knew held back a sob. Tooru couldn’t help but find it befitting how you would one day hold power over everyone, because you were capable of breaking hearts. You could ruin kingdoms and tear everything apart. Yet, Tooru also knew how gentle you could be. He had shared enough family dinners with you to grow envious—no matter if he was aware they were all a sham—with the way you and Rintaro would share knowing smiles with each other like you both spoke a secret language exclusive only for those who had experienced falling in love.

Was this why Rintaro was so adamant in keeping you?

Had his brother even looked at you this way?

You made princes like him who grew up skilled in the arts of swordsmanship and combat weak in the knees. All you had to do was keep kicking your feet and fly higher up in the air and Tooru wouldn’t have argued if somebody told him he saw a fairy that night. A fairy who shed tears for a man unworthy of it. A fairy who mourned for a love that was never hers and whose cries were as muted as the dumbfounded Prince tracing the shape of your lips with his eyes and wonders, what would his name sound like if you whispered it to his ears? Would it feel biblical if Tooru could also share a secret language with you and murmur it into the crevices of your palm in a promising kiss, or would your words curse him into a thoughtless follower who walked into his own demise? You would be his Queen, after all. You would be the one he would fight for his life with, and whose wishes would become his command—his only good reason for living.

“Fuck,” Tooru muttered under his breath as he leant against his car. He could already feel his heart pounding. And for what? The spine-chilling realization of—or more like could no longer deny—that he found his brother’s wife mesmerizing? “Fuck you, Rintaro. I don’t wanna be like you. I’m not stealing anybody’s wife.”

Tooru chanted those words in his head like a mantra.

He needed more than a bottle of alcohol to get him through the night without accidentally blurting anything stupid, which he was certain was the last thing you needed. Tonight, you needed a friend. You needed someone with genuine intentions after being cruelly dragged into a make believe story of Prince meets Beauty, only to wake up with an unfortunate twist of Beauty and the Beast where happy endings didn’t exist when Rintaro was the Beast through and through.

Tonight, you would not be Prince and Princess.

Tooru would come as himself, and with a clear of his throat, plastered on his infamous smirk. “The night is too good to spend alone, Your Highness. I am quite certain no lovely woman would envision their honeymoon to turn out this way.”

You halted your body from swinging up.

Eyes widening at the sight of the Fifth Prince in nothing but sleepwear and a coat, your mouth falls open. You must have remembered you were now a Princess and had to act properly in front of a royal blood that you sat up straight. The action had Tooru sucking in a sharp breath before making himself comfortable on the swing beside you, opting to stare out in the vast fields because his chest was fluttering at the look on your face. How relieved you seemed upon seeing him. Like he was your hero even if he was far from having heroic attributes, and Tooru bit the insides of his cheeks.

He loathed how that passing moment made him feel important and brought a tint to his cheeks.

“Your Highness,” you began, “Wh-What brings you here?”

“To comfort a certain lonely Princess,” he winked, and you respond with a surprised squeak. “What? Can’t believe that the most handsome Prince is now your knight in shining armour? Don’t flatter yourself, though. This will not be a daily occurrence and—”

“Thank you.” Ducking your head, you stare at your lap, and Tooru patiently waited for you to continue speaking. He could see your eyes water as you swallow audibly, “I...I did not think anyone would bother to come find me, much less you, my Prince. Out of everybody, I thought you might have cared the least, but forgive me for I was mistaken.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “Not everyone is as heartless as Rintaro. Not your fault too that you thought of me that way.”

The both of you share a knowing smile—his telling you that you would be alright, and you reciprocating a thankful one. A comfortable silence settled after that. None of you found the need to talk about anything when Tooru wasn’t the best at comforting, and you were more than satisfied for the company. It shocked him, though, how he unexpectedly ended up playing in the swings with his brother’s wife at three in the morning, surrounded by nothing but grass and the faint sounds of crickets chirping. The wind would occasionally hum, and so did you.

The intimate beginning of a core memory felt like a scene straight out of a novel, but Tooru knew better. As much as he cherished this moment of sharing a silence with somebody in a world filled with people demanding for answers and explanations, Tooru understood this moment would not last. He had to remind himself he wasn’t your Prince. You weren’t his Princess. You were both just royals stripped of their titles until they were reduced to nothing but humans at their rawest form—a Princess with a disloyal husband, a broken heart and pride, and him as a Prince who didn’t quite knew where he belonged. At least, Tooru knew his place, and maybe that was why it felt a bit wrong to be the one next to you this moment. You were newly married and should be having this emotional intimacy with your husband. Not his brother. It was a constant fight of push and pull in his brain of wanting to be greedy and have more for this, whatever the fuck this was, whatever the fuck it meant now that you were smiling to yourself without saying anything, but Tooru chose to be the bigger person and stop kicking his feet.

“Say,” he scrunched his nose, “The town is dead, and you look like you have a lot to get off your chest. What do you say about a drive up the hill? You can scream as much as you want there.”

“Scream? Why would I scream?”

“Curse out Rintaro. I do that a lot when he gets on my nerves.”

When you laughed at his words, Tooru had to stop himself from getting too ahead of himself. Surely, it didn’t mean anything at all that he just made a pretty Princess laugh, even if your laugh was so airy and sounded so nice he would have taken full credit of doing a job well done for being a temporary friend.

“That does not sound too bad. In fact, I know a spot.”

The spot being a ten minute walk up the hill, far enough to be hidden from the prying gaze despite everybody being asleep but close enough that Tooru could retrace the steps back to the town in fear you would get lost again. Not that he had to worry. You were already steps ahead of him, shoes looped into your fingers as your toes dug into the bare earth—the very spitting image of a woman he couldn’t have most with sparkling hair pins keeping the strands kissed by the wind at bay.

Right. He needed to look away.

You were not his to appreciate.

“How did you find me, Prince Tooru?” you asked when you’d both settled next to each other, knees slightly brushing with every relaxed move.

Prying his eyes away from your fingers spreading to let the blades of grass peek through the spaces, Tooru raised a shoulder. Stop, he chastised himself. Do not muse about how strong the soil must be that night to carry the unspoken sorrows that weighed heavier than earth itself. Do not put yourself into the shoes birthed with a responsibility you were not man enough to step in on.

“Let’s just say that my wife and I never really went to the shop centres. That was nothing but a lame excuse we had to tell her parents. Instead, I roamed around this lovely town of yours and wished earlier that this might as well be my spot—but of course, this has always been yours, isn’t it?” he attempted to lighten the mood, “You have a lovely view from here.”

While his view from his bedroom, up north in the Inarizaki Tower, granted him the vision of a god who saw all from the citizens rising early in the morning to mill about for work to children laughing as they chased each other outside their parents’ humble, little shops, nothing could have compared to the serenity of Greenville. Miles and miles of land rich with flowers and fruitful trees laid home to rows of grapevines; its scent so addicting the Prince might as well have gotten drunk from a single whiff. The land stretched overhead until the peak of the mountains along the edge allowed room for the sun to stretch its arms out in a few hours’ time. Crickets chirped. The wind sang a lullaby that put the people to sleep, and he had you next to him. Close enough he might have plucked out the flower tempting him nearby with its dulcet beauty and humorously recite you poetry like he was your lover if that would make you smile.

Unfortunately, you didn’t share the same sentiments as him. “I doubt anything could be lovely from now on.”

“Don’t let my brother get to you.”

“That is easy for you to say,” you exhaled, “You and your brothers all the same. We, as wives, never meant anything significant to your hearts. You throw us to the side away like we are lesser than dust. I doubt you could even understand my pain when you are clearly incapable of being a good husband with the inability to feel love.”

Biting back his tongue to ask “don’t you want to prove me wrong about that?”, Tooru blew a low whistle. “You don’t pull your punches, do you? That is harsh.”

“Well, I see no need to coddle you, my Prince. You are a grown man who needs to realize his own disgusting flaws.”

At any other day, Tooru would’ve taken the unnecessary projection of your own heartbreak out to him with disdain, but today was different. For his own entertainment, he would be a little kinder. A little more patient. So he let it slide, and masked his confused heart with the one thing he had perfected—the all-too-confident smile that made men and women weak in the knees. The smile that brought him to where he is now, married and unhappy.

“Oh, there is no need, Princess. I am more than well aware of what makes me terrible,” he admitted, “What my brother did was wrong. There is no excuse for his behaviour, but you must understand—this is all very common to us now. Rintaro was able to deceive you like that because he had seen it with his own eyes; how marriages needed to be successful politically but never romantically, and once he has a goal in mind, nothing is stopping him from achieving that,” it was more of a warning than a reminder, and Tooru snuck a glance to confirm if you understood where he was going. “Do not take it personally, Princess. Rintaro would have been a liar either way whether it was you or not that he first laid his eyes on.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?”

“I am shit at comforting others—” a laugh was pulled from him before the Prince steals the bottle from your hands and takes a swig. “—but I do sincerely hope you stop crying now.”

His words had the opposite effect. Not even past the neck of the bottle, you choked before him in a fit of sniffles and sobs. Eyes puffy and red, lips wobbly and fingers angrily wiping away at the tears you desperately tried to conceal from his stupefied gaze. “What do you care whether I cry or not?”

Out of instinct, Tooru’s arm reached out to stop you from pinching your cheeks.

Slapped by logic, on the other hand, his arm retreated by itself because he was only here to comfort, not to reassure. And bound by the foolishness that was called the never-learning vulnerable heart, Tooru found himself in the middle of heaven and hell as he sighs. “Believe it or not, Princess, but I do care,” was his confession, though before you could ponder too much about it, the Prince was already hogging the scotch. “Implausible, is it not? But I do not blame you for it. I know I seem unable to care about others when I hate my own wife, even if she has been nothing but an angel to me.”

“So you know Princess Maiko adores you. Why do you not treat her with the same kindness, then?”

Princess Maiko again. It always had to circle back to her.

“She annoys me. She clings to me like an obsessed leech and demands affection when she knows I have no interest in reciprocating it,” he scoffed, “It is for her own good, though. There is no point to fool herself we can be happy together when I never wanted to be married. It is better to break her heart from the beginning than be sweet to her and get her hopes up.” The Prince held no room for argument. Palms leaning back on the grass, he extends his leg and crosses them as he glares at the sky like the darkness caused all this trouble. “No idea what anybody told you, but Princess Maiko and I were not married under the Queen’s choice. It was Maiko’s.”

“Princess Maiko...proposed to you?”

“Something like that. Maiko is a year younger than me, and naturally, since our families had close connections to each other, I grew up treating her like my little sister. She was always clumsy and stupid that I feared she’d get into trouble if not properly watched over. Little did I know that my concern for her would grow into being lovesick, and next thing I know, she is begging with the Queen to marry me. One thing led to another, the Queen saw potential in our union, and now here we are.”

“You make it sound like you had no choice in this, yet you still let her walk down that aisle. Are you sure you are not just using the Queen as an excuse?”

“If I did not marry Maiko, the Queen would have kicked me out the palace.”

“That is legal?”

Tooru wore a face that said beats me. “When there are too many Princes in a patriarchal monarchy, there will be hierarchy among our worth. The First Prince is already worthy to remain in the family as the eldest heir, and then Rintaro is the only child of the King and Queen. Prince Shinsuke will never have to worry about not being Prince when his mother plays a large role in the Kingdom as one of their best lawyers. The twins, too, come from a wealthy mother whose chain of businesses greatly benefits the palace. The youngest, Prince Tobio, is naturally adored by everybody else. He is given everything without having to ask for it. But the rest of us? We have to fight for our place in the dinner table. My clan is not exactly on good terms with the royal family, either.”

“But did you not say you did not care about being Prince?”

“I don’t. The duties of a Prince wears me out and I hate having to put on a facade all the time, but I have no place where I belong in,” his voice grew somber, the tips of his ears tinting red at the realization he was actually being vulnerable to someone who wasn’t his brother. Hell, he didn’t even trust his brothers anymore the night titles mattered more than familial bond, yet here he was. “My mother... her family does not accept me because she was a married woman who had me after having an affair with the King, and the King never looked at me once when I was born. He merely had me to establish ties with the Oikawa Clan, but when he realized my maternal grandparents barely recognized me as their own, I was useless to him. So as much as I despise being a Prince, it is the only way I can actually live. If not for my title, I would have already been sent to the streets.”

Tooru was quietly begging whatever gods looked down on him that you wouldn’t look at him with pity. The last thing he wanted was to be pitiful.

Sneaking a glance after a split second decision dissolved his worries, because you were far from seeing him as less. No, you glanced at him more out of curiosity. Like if he allowed you to give it more thought, you could magically have a solution. “Then...if you are not that important to them despite being an heir to one of three founding clans, why could Prince Kiyoomi not be important, as well? He is the Second Prince. Is that why he married Princess Iris—to ensure his title of a Prince?”

“Nobody knows why Iris and Kiyoomi got married, and neither will anyone of them talk about it. None of us were even invited to their wedding. We just woke up the next day and found out our brother had gotten married with minimal preparations, but it was all over the news. The Kingdom ate their marriage and claimed it to be a firmer peace treaty over Inarizaki and Itachiyama.”

You hid a sniffle.

“...How long has Prince Suna and Princess Iris been together?”

Tooru believed it was best you knew less. But the look on your face begged, pleaded to have that certain itch scratched that Tooru had to give in. “They met when they were in high school,” he supplied, albeit hesitantly, “Iris was a scholar of the royal family as her mother was a loyal follower of the Queen despite being born in Itachiyama, and Iris was an intelligent girl. They hit it off ever since, but drifted apart due to obvious reasons. Then they met again right after the wedding, and have been inseparable ever since.”

God. He really shouldn’t have said it. He had barely finished speaking before you pulled your knees up to your chest, head buried between your legs and sobs stifled in the eerie silence. “Oh my god. I look like a fool, don’t I? They’ve known each other forever.”

“None of this was your fault, Princess. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“It was my fault, though. I-I knew all this time,” you were full on sobbing by now. “I found out the night we announced our engagement. Ever since that day, I knew whatever we had was never real, but I proceeded with the wedding anyway because I hoped he would still look at me the same way. D-Do you have any idea how much it hurts to learn that you were never loved in the first place?”

Your voice cracked with every sharp breath. Fingers lifting to dig into your scalp deep enough the skin turned raw, and Tooru was immediately peeling your hands away from yourself. “Princess, breathe. Do not hurt yourself—”

“It kills me, Your Highness. I have never felt this pathetic before.”

“Princess...”

“I can’t stop looking in the mirror and find a warped reflection of myself staring back,” you wail and flick his arm away, like the thought of being touched by someone else repulsive. “Every day, I see nothing but my flaws and insecurities and think, is this why he doesn’t love me? Am I not pretty enough? Am I not good enough? Will I never compare to Iris? I feel so horribly ugly and disgusted of my own skin.”

“Don’t think that. You’re beautiful.”

“His Highness said otherwise—”

“My brother is fucking stupid for taking you for granted. If you were mine, I would have never made you feel like you were not good enough.”

Your head slowly turns to face him, the previous sobs now dwindling into little sniffles, but Tooru was already looking away. Downing his wine before you could say anything else. Drinking fast enough his brain felt muddled and there was an ache forming at the back of his head, but anything. Anything to escape the prying eyes wet with tears as the confession settled into the air.

He either fucked it up, or started a new chapter along the way.

The sound of you crying harder again brought him no answer.

“I w-wish...he thought the same way.”

What did it all mean? This moment... when you looked at him now, clinging to whatever hope was left in your love struck heart. When you looked at him now, smile flattened upon the mutual understanding that maybe this was what it meant. Not quite friendship, not quite partnership, not quite acquaintances—but the gentle promise that when the castle and its burdens grew too suffocating, you would have the Fifth Prince to run to out of the thousand others living under the grand halls of royalty. And if you had even the slightest inkling that perhaps Tooru might be growing too warm in a cold night, he was comforted enough by the fact you and him were as impossible as him and his wife.

Whatever attraction he held for you simply had to die. Whatever happened tonight stays within this spot closest to the stars in a quiet town called Greenville.

“Let him go,” was all Tooru could offer before his hand covered yours—that silly smile returning on his face again as if to say the pain would pass. “He’s stupid, anyway.”

“Right.” Finally, fucking finally, you smile brighter than he ever could. “He is stupid.”

“What the fuck were you doing with my wife?”

No good thing ever lasted. It was a fact Tooru learned the hard way, and had to relearn once more when he brought you back ‘home.’ After an hour and a half more of sharing jokes that slowly, the both of you were forming your own secret language Rintaro would not be a part of, you decided to loosen up a bit and steal the rest of his drink. Well, he brought it for you, but he didn’t quite expect you to rummage around his own hidden stash in the car of flasks, only to be giggling and practically dead weight in his arms later on.

It was good until it lasted.

It was good until he showed up. Tooru hadn’t stopped scowling since your husband bundled you in his jacket and held you like you were a fragile woman in need of care. Sure, you could be, but if Rintaro knew it all along, why hadn’t he been more careful since the beginning? Tooru hated inconsistency. Hated lying out of everything—all of the traits his younger brother was an expert of.

It was absolutely revolting how he immediately took on the role of a concerned husband and carried you to bed when you passed out in his arms—like he hadn’t been the reason you felt the need to drink yourself to such a state.

“Only what you should have done.”

Rintaro grabbed him by the collar, their eyes levelled but neither giving in. “Don’t mess with me, Tooru. You think I don’t know what you’re doing, huh? Making my wife warm up to you so you can mess up everything I worked hard for?”

“I didn’t do shit. You ruined everything by yourself and you know it.”

“You still had no business going after her like that.”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” gritting his teeth, Tooru shoved Rin back hard enough his back hit the doorframe. Although the impact didn’t cause too much of a sound, he still glanced your way to see if you had awoken before lowering his voice. “Your wife cried for hours. She could barely breathe well from how overwhelmed she is, and what were you doing? Oh, that’s right. Fucking your mistress while your wife wondered over and over again just what made her so unworthy of love in your eyes. It’s actually pathetic that such an amazing woman would shed these much tears over a man who can’t even tell her the truth about his malicious nature!”

Rintaro snickered, and it took all of Tooru’s patience to not punch his brother.

“Since when have you cared about the Princess?”

“Maybe we all do, Rintaro! Maybe every single one of us is tired that you and your mother are the exact same—you do nothing but manipulate people for your own gain and then wonder why your lives are so miserable! Your wife loves you, Rin. She would forgive you at the blink of an eye but it does not give you the right to abuse her kindness.”

“That is hypocritical coming from you. You talk as if you do not neglect your wife and leave her crying, too.”

“Maiko, Maiko, it’s always about stupid, fucking Maiko!” he fumed, “Don’t fucking pit me with you, asshole. You courted Princess Y/N for two years and had no intention of coming clean about your sins. Everybody knows I never wanted this marriage. It was Maiko who bound me with these shackles because she was obsessed with me!”

Rintaro was at a loss of words.

He, too, knew that in some way, Tooru had been better. Tooru had always been consistent over his disapproval of the marriage, and had no choice but to accept it in order to survive the harsh environment of the palace. But did Rintaro care?

Obviously not.

“Go back home. I don’t need you here.”

Tooru scoffed. “If it brings you any comfort—” with his back turned to his brother, he glared at him one last time on the way out. “I didn’t come here of my own volition. It was Maiko who requested me to go. Nobody’s out here stealing who isn’t theirs.” An excuse, a valid reason, a half truth—call it what you wanted. Tooru wasn’t sure himself either which one of it he truly meant when he could still smell your perfume all over him on the drive back to the manor.

At one point in your life, you became a Princess before you married a Prince.

It happened that one fateful night. Where elites, nobles, royals, and all the important figures in the world gathered in a grandiose castle in celebration of a Prince’s eighteenth birthday. Naturally, as the daughter of two of the trusted followers of the throne, you had been invited. You could still picture it all clearly—the weeks ahead of preparation despite being a guest who would most likely befriend the shadows and be accompanied by the walls until the party ended. Still, your mother insisted you be dressed to the nines. Calling out for the best dressmakers to travel to Inarizaki with the sole purpose of transforming you into—as what your mother called —“a butterfly who attracted attention, but would be out of reach.”

You were close to telling your mother she would return home from the party disappointed. Unless she could accept you were more of a moth who clung to the unknown corners.

Not that you thought lowly of yourself, but you preferred the term... realistic. Yes, realistic was what you were. You simply accepted the fact you weren’t the prettiest, the most sociable, nor the most interesting woman to ever be attending these balls. Perhaps only slightly above average all thanks to the respectable status and money you were born with, but otherwise not as dreamy as your mother painted you out to be.

See, you weren’t the best dancer. Your mother had given up halfway into dancing classes once she realized you were a lost cause. Little did the both of you know, that from that night onwards, the young woman who had two left feet would someday master the art of dancing all to impress a certain Prince who wouldn’t stop looking at her that night.

His name was Suna Rintaro—the Crown Prince by birth.

And you had caught his eye.

In fact, you must have captured his entire attention and bewitched his whole being that he was unable to take his eyes off of you and pushed through the crowd, all to ask for a dance.

You said yes. He said you made him the happiest man that night.

“Truly?” he echoed, as if a gorgeous Prince like him ever experienced his dance invitations rejected before. “You would dance with me?”

“It would be my pleasure, Your Highness. I...I am not great at dancing though,” you began to stutter, palms growing damp behind the lace gloves. “Perhaps you ought to find somebody better? I am uncertain I am the best choice to dance with tonight—”

“You are the best choice,” the Prince grinned, and your heart skipped a beat in awe at how someone could be effortlessly charming. You barely even noticed he was already leading you to the dance floor until you felt a hundred pair of eyes on you. All these people who bore more importance and held heavier money in their pockets witnessed how the Prince slid his warm hand above your waist then, his smile just as soothing as the little finger rubs to ease your nerves. “You are—” he leant closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “The only one who I want to share this dance with.”

You awoke with a jolt, heart pounding a mile a minute as the memory replayed in your head. Like a film caught on tape, you could still hear the violins singing at the top of their lungs, the cello hitting deep notes that vibrated within your bones. You could still feel the warmth of the Prince’s touch as he danced the night away with you. How gentle he had been to walk you out the gardens just to shyly murmur how he found you beautiful.

Beautiful.

Until suddenly you were not—or more like, you had never been beautiful to him.

“My love,” a voice—one that used to be comforting but now only brought pain—broke you out of your reverie. “I prepared breakfast for you. We should go downstairs and eat.”

Your husband, Rintaro, sat at the edge of your bed with a pinched frown. As if he was worried. He had no right to be, yet somehow, there was still that voice at the back of your head rejoicing in delight. Because he came. He came to find you. You woke up with him, and sure, it didn’t erase yesterday’s events, but could it mean something? You so badly wanted to reach out to him when his hand snaked across the mattress to find yours. Offering you a small squeeze. Looking so concerned you would have believed it all over again.

How was it possible someone could be both your happiness and torment?

No! your inner voice screamed at you. Don’t let him get close.

Blinking back the tears you hadn’t noticed arrived, you kicked the blankets off of you and trudged to the bathroom when you felt bile rise from your throat. Right. Such great timing. You were pushing the toilet lid up the next second, knees scraping against the floor as you emptied your stomach. Your head pounded as you did so, and you winced, remembering just now how Prince Tooru had visited and you drank yourself to your limit.

Which, obviously, was a decision you regretted making.

“My love!” Rintaro was behind you in an instant. He rubbed your back, held your hair up as you retched a few more times, and whispered sweet nothings that did nothing but to intensify that sick feeling in your stomach. “How much did you drink? I was so worried for you, honey—”

You slapped his hand away.

“Don’t call me that.”

If Rintaro looked defeated, he hid it extremely well. “Please. I only worry for you,” he helped you up on your feet. Fortunately for him, you were too wobbly on your own legs to complain. You quietly let him sit you on the closed toilet and sat down before you, his knees brushing against your bare feet and his handsome face deceitfully worn. “Listen...we can talk about it later, alright? You need to eat first before you get even more sick.”

“You are concerned over my well-being?”

“I am—”

“It did not feel like that yesterday.”

“Please. Let’s stop fighting.” How rare for the Crown Prince to beg, much say please more than once in a row. Wasn’t he too prideful for that?

As much as you basked in how this man was now on his knees for you, you didn’t trust yourself to not give in to whatever he asked of you. True as it was that it hurt, love didn’t disappear in a night. It wasn’t that easy to un-love someone you planned your whole life with. Of course, going back to that same hellish place he put you in would truly paint you the ignoramus, but you currently didn’t have the power to say no to him just yet. It was two years of being wired to please him at all costs. And it would take more than that to unlearn all the habits you’d formed just to align with who he wanted you to be.

But things would change now. It would no longer be the same, and you could only hope the next chapters of your life would bring about a better change.

Today marked the beginning of you detaching from your husband.

Pushing past him, you walked out with clenched fists. You would not cry in front of him now. You would not let him feel the satisfaction of how perfectly he’d executed his plan of wrapping himself around your finger until the end crashed you both. You would not let him see that you still loved him, still craved him, still fucking wished he would be genuine in comforting you and not because he had to keep you as his pliant wife.

No matter how hard it was, you needed to turn your back on him from now.

“Wait,” he grabbed you by the wrist, and you nearly collapsed on the spot from how much you yearned for his touch. “Where did you get this?”

He was pertaining to the scratches on your palm. The ones you got when he rudely pushed you off. “It’s nothing,” was all you supplied, however, because he didn’t need to know. Rintaro would feel guilty and just feed you honey-like words to thaw the ice in your heart. Soon, you would be putty in his arms again if you weren’t careful enough. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Of course I worry.” He said it like this should be obvious to you by now, and you scoffed.

“Why? Because I’m not the perfect Princess you want me to be anymore now that I have wounds?”

Rintaro’s lips puckered out. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You hurt me yesterday. Funny how fast your feelings change in the span of a night, no?” you grabbed your wrist before crossing your arms against your chest. “Is this how you always were? Kind one moment, ruthless the next? You put on so many faces and tell too many lies that I have no idea who I am talking to right now. So tell me—are you my husband who promised to take care of me and cherish me until death do us part, or are you the greedy Prince who manipulated me into marrying him?”

Rintaro does not respond. Instead, he manoeuvred around the cramped space of your bathroom and reaches for the first-aid kit on the top shelf. Your husband slowly unrolls the bandages before he takes your hand in his, touch butterfly like that you wondered if he was the same man who had been aggressive yesterday. Still, you waited with baited breath, unable to stop yourself from staring at him. And blessed he was with those hazel eyes who’d seen every ugly part of you yet stayed with you anyway—whether it was out of need or he actually cared sometimes to not mind—and that soft tuft of hair you loved running your hands to. Those lips who recited empty vows and kissed you like he meant it. That voice that made your legs quiver countless nights and now, these hands wrapping the bandages around your blistered palm with patience and grace you knew you had fallen in love with.

Tears sprung once again. Chest squeezing uncomfortably as you realized you still were, and still would, be hopelessly in love with Suna Rintaro. Heart shattering all over again when you began to accept your heart would be a chamber that hung him like an oil painting that never aged through the years. How your love would remain frozen in time along with his smiles, and you loved him so much you sometimes forget he did not love you at all.

He had someone else in his heart when yours cried out no one else’s name but his.

“Why her?” you croak out weakly, nursing your bandaged palm to your chest as you leant against the wall. Feeling your knees weaken little by little. “What does she have that I do not? Why did you love her...but not me?”

“I do not want to talk about it.”

“Why her, Rintaro?”

It was the first time you called him by his first name. The shock is apparent on his face, but Rintaro opted to shake his head before wrapping an arm around your waist. “We should eat first. Then, I will you tell everything.”

Breakfast, while not entirely comfortable, wasn’t as terrible as you expected it to be. It was difficult to stay mad at him when you were greeted by the staff who wouldn’t stop gushing about how your husband stayed up the entire night to cook for you. The said man only blushed in response, seemingly embarrassed and continuously apologizing for the mess he made in the kitchen.

Now, if Rintaro was on a mission to mess with your heart even more, it definitely worked.

All your anger dissipated as you ate the rice soup. The breakfast wasn’t anything flashy, but it contained everything you needed after a hungover. Bananas, some sliced apples, a light soup and some ginger tea to help ease your nausea. Such simple food, yet seeing as how Rintaro grew up with a silver spoon and never had to cook anything in his life before, your husband took multiple attempts to perfect the soup into a plausible taste. Not that you would ever tell him since compliments seemed far and beyond in this already failing marriage. But... you supposed, you could give him some credit. You appreciated the effort, and thanked the staff generously before you both decided to just walk back home and talk.

Greeting people as you go, your husband kept trying to hold your hand. For appearance’s sake, or because he simply wanted to have you close, you didn’t ask anymore. You shoved your hands deep into your pockets and led him into a field of dandelions—one of your favourite places as a child. The bright yellows mixing in with the lush green, along with the fresh breeze, and it would have been picture perfect.

You always wanted to visit here with Rintaro. Tell him some childhood stories. It was something you had been dreaming of around the third month of your relationship, but now that you were here standing next to your husband, you didn’t quite feel the same elation.

“This place is beautiful,” he cut the silence and faces you with a soft smile. “Imagine one day, our kids would run here with us—”

“Why are you doing this to me, Your Highness? Do you take pleasure in my suffering?”

“Princess, I—” he sighed, “Let me explain.”

“Go ahead. Tell me everything from the start and I might be kind enough to understand where you come from.”

And tell you, he did. He told you everything. From how they met, to how he had always felt this ‘pull’ with her and smiled to himself dreamily because gravity pulled him to her; they had this magnetic force that they couldn’t stay away from each other. He told you about the dreams he shared with her. The plans they made. He listed down every little thing he loved about her and remained unaware that you stood there furiously blinking back tears, because you were the wife, and you had never felt so unloved at the face of someone who proclaimed his undying affection for a woman who was not his. He reminisced about how it all went downhill when Iris married Kiyoomi, how they were so lonely that they just found home in each other. He couldn’t help it, he said, I just knew I needed to do everything to make her mine.

We were meant for each other.

And you? Who were you meant for? Perhaps, you were destined for this sick, twisted fate where you felt like the outsider, the third party, the side character, in a story that was supposed to be yours? He looked so in love. And you knew, because you mirrored everything he felt about her. You knew because you looked the same way as he does now when you were in love, and it’s not you—it’s never going to be you. It was never supposed to be you. All you could do was smile bitterly when your husband uttered her name like she had cast a spell on him. Pretending with whatever strength you had left in you to be fine.

“You love her that much you were willing to sacrifice me for it?”

“...I—”

“Did you ever think about how this would make me feel? How-How I welcomed you into my home and told you about my deepest fears and-and none of that had been real? Was there a single moment where you stopped to think maybe you were hurting someone else all because you wanted to be with the woman you want?”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But that is the thing, Your Highness, you already did. You cannot undo what has been done.”

“I know that,” Rintaro stepped forward, only to be greeted by you keeping the distance bigger. The crestfallen look on his face nearly made you feel bad. “I do not expect forgiveness from you, Your Highness. Absolutely not. But if we could compromise on something—”

“What would we compromise on?” you laughed without a trace of humour, “I love you. I married you because I love you, I care about you, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You married me out of greed. You still wish to proceed with your plans which shows you truly do not care about me, so tell me, what is there to compromise about? I want my husband more than anything else, but that is the one thing you cannot give me.”

Rintaro shook his head. “No, no. I am still yours, Princess. Iris is not my wife, you are. You are the one who I will wake up to every morning, the one I will spend the rest of my life with. We can still do the things you wish for. Iris, she... she is not a selfish woman. She has always been kind enough to let me be with you for the greater good—”

You raised a palm in front of his face.

“Please stop talking.”

Was he defeated? No. Rintaro needed more than this blatant rejection of yours. If he had been that weak or gave up any easily, then he wouldn’t get where he was right now. But at this moment, you could have sworn he meant it when his shoulders fell and called out your name.

“Had we met earlier, I would have loved you first.”

“That just hurts me more.”

“I was, and am genuinely happy with you, my wife,” he reassured, but it didn’t stop making you cry. It didn’t ease the pain as Rintaro slowly encaged you in his embrace. Your tears staining his shirt and fists crumpling the material as you felt yourself die little by little. “Shh, Princess. Not a part of me regrets reciting my vows to you on that day in front of the entire kingdom. Believe it or not, but I adore you. I love listening to your stories and hearing you laugh, and-and you are kind. You are strong. You are an extremely beautiful and loving woman that I am the luckiest man in the world to have been your husband.”

“But you do not love me,” you cried harder, “You will never look at me the way you look at her.” When the Prince remained silent, so did you. He didn’t deny it this time—how you would never receive the same treatment as Iris. That fact alone had you pulling back to stare at your husband’s eyes.

“Does she make you happier than I do, Your Highness?”

Ignorance was bliss, indeed. If only you could turn back time and undo this moment where you stopped curiosity from getting the best of you, perhaps you would not be twice as heartbroken when Rintaro nodded. No hesitation in his features. Just pure love, and an ounce of regret and guilt from the way you slowly crumbled before him.

“Yes, she does. The Princess is my entire universe. I would be utterly devastated and lost without her.”

It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of your body. It became a challenge to speak, to feel the tips of your fingers as you stepped back one time, two time, three times until the distance was just as big as the hole he punctured through your heart. Now, you had enough. You had reached your limit, learned your lesson, been humbled to your place—and Rintaro had no intention of taking his words back.

He meant it.

He would lose himself if Iris disappeared from his life.

With that, you had no choice but to force a smile. “I understand,” you declared, wiping your pathetic tears because it hadn’t been an hour since you promised you would be stronger now. But luck was never on your side, and you still kept tripping and wounding yourself. “I...I would like to return to the castle, Your Highness. There is no need to extend this trip any longer than it should be.”

“We don’t need to return right away, Princess. There are still plenty of things we can do—”

“Please refrain from sharing any activities with me from now on unless it is bound by duty. No eyes are looking, so you have no responsibilities with me right now,” you sent him a pointed gaze. “I wish to return to the city, and that is final. Do not question my decisions as I will not interfere with yours.”

Rintaro’s lips flattened into a thin line. You couldn’t bear yourself to look at him anymore, so you walked away from him, salty tears cascading down your cheeks, and the wedding ring heavier than the weight in your heart.

From today onwards, you might not recognize yourself anymore.

None of the Princes and their wives questioned the sudden return to Inarizaki Palace.

When they saw you and Rintaro walk in with gloom faces, everyone shuffled to their feet and quickly packed their things. No words or explanations needed. This honeymoon had already ended on a sour note, and now it was time to return to the reality of royal obligations and duties. Duties such as keeping a fake smile plastered at all times when the supportive citizens of Inarizaki waved and cheered at the couples’ arrival. Atrocious obligations such as letting your husband place a possessive hand at the small of your back when the rest of his brothers welcomed you into the lobby, the youngest Prince bouncing at his feet at the sight of you.

“Back so soon, sister? Did you guys enjoy?”

You shared a quick, affectionate glance with Rintaro. “We did. I had the time of my life, but I thought it unnecessary to dilly-dally around in my hometown when royal duties await us all.”

“As expected of my sister. You are always so adept,” praised the marvelled Prince Tobio who had taken himself to looping himself to your arm. It left Rintaro awkwardly following behind as you were guided to your shared chambers, but you weren’t complaining. The youngest Prince was lively and brightened up your bitter days. “Say, would you mind taking me to Greenville someday when we are both free? I heard you had the loveliest manor there.”

“It would be my honour, Your Highness.”

“Please,” he beamed, and instantly, you were given a reason to endure this hell even longer. “Call me brother, we are family now. But ah, it is night time! I should let the both of you rest. Take good care of her, brother!”

Rintaro offered a nod. The both of you waited as Prince Tobio left the room in high spirits when the uncomfortable silence stretched, leaving you to scurry changing into your sleepwear in opt of avoiding your husband’s gaze. Once done, you let your hands roam over the cream pillars surrounding the edges of your king sized bed with a robin egg blue and gold palette. A golden chandelier with diamonds hung from the ceiling above the bed, the bed post textured with coral shaped indents. The same shade of blue hung from the windows. A large television right across the bed with a cream coloured cabinet lined with gold outlines—a perfect room for a man who would be sleeping by himself. Who, by the way, was already comfortably settled into the left side of the bed with his arm propped behind his head.

“Where are you headed?”

“Outside?”

“In your nightgown? Absolutely not.”

“In the drawing room, my Prince. I am not stepping out of our quarters dressed like this.”

“But it is time for bed.”

“Indeed, and I do not wish to share one with you when you and your mistress must have rolled around in it already. Good night, Your Highness,” you sent him a preppy smile, bowing deep before shutting the doors shut. A baffled Rintaro about to leave his bed the last thing you saw.

Hearing the doors close behind you, you practically crashed into the couch. You were beyond exhausted and your head still pounded from your endless crying—it was now time for a good night’s sleep. Not that it would be good, no matter how soft the cushion may be, because the palatial room did nothing but echo the loneliness residing in your heart.

Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro wouldn’t stop tossing and turning in his bed. The clock ticking got to his nerves until he was cracking open every book, tossing the television to random channels, and even swiping his fingers across the countertops to check for dust. He couldn’t sleep—not when his wife wasn’t beside him. This wasn’t how he pictured his marriage out to be; sleeping alone, with his wife intent on keeping her distance. Still, Rintaro thought, shouldn’t he be happy? You were not getting in his way. You were not particularly malicious to Iris on the way back home, or anytime after that, despite his confession that he knew wounded you. You simply ignored her existence, and now it was his turn.

Did you intend on pretending he wasn’t there too? Because Rintaro wasn’t having any of it. He would rather you hit him, scream at him, even call him a monster if it meant you looked at his way.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rintaro walked to the doors and prepared himself to carry you back to bed when he heard it—the sounds of muffled cries and nearly inaudible whimpers.

He didn’t know why his mouth tasted sour and bitter at the same time.

Rintaro had no idea why he stepped away from the doors like what stood behind it scared him, and slowly returned to the bed. The door acted as a barrier between the two hearts who unknowingly kept themselves up and awake until the sun rose the next morning—Rintaro with a heavy chest of guilt, and your heart gradually losing the spark it once held for him.

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sukirichi · 2 years

Text

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 006 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

c/w. modern royal au. infidelity. slight angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. suggestive. toxic relationships. suna is physically aggressive in one scene. mentions of neglect and abuse.

notes. omg i never expected i’d actually update this someday but thank you to everyone who’d been so nice and supportive! ily chloe for always hyping me up and ily sunflower anon for bullying me (affectionately) into updating <33

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[ SIX ] you held my heart in your fingertips, so now i drown in my bitterness

The bullet whizzing past the open gardens stunned you into temporary deafness. Smoke coated the barrel as its heat slowly seeped into your hands, yet it could not compare to the burning rage emanating within the Sixth Prince as you gaped back at him. You, too, were in disbelief over what you had just done.

You did not mean it. You did not mean to do that as you took a step back, the weapon snatched out of your hands when you faced your husband.

Fury glistened in those brown orbs. Sweat formed at the edge of his forehead, and you felt damp under the cool morning air until the Prince was unloading the gun. Opening your mouth to speak, you prepared yourself to repent for what you had done—because no, not even a miniscule of satisfaction could be tasted on your tongue at Princess Iris’ lithe body shell-shocked with fear. Not a tinge of victory to be celebrated when your husband had grabbed you by the wrist and away from the scene.

“Your Highness,” you called out in a trembling voice, focused on the firmness of his back faced to you. Here, you could barely see a thing when his broad body obscured your vision, but you were no fool. You knew you were about to be kicked out from your own home.

“Please, you are hurting me!”

The Prince ignored your cries as he pulled the car door open, sharp eyes narrowed at you before he shoved you inside. Not a moment later, he appeared by your side and revved the engine, feet slamming down on the gas before you could utter a word. You doubted he would listen anyway when he sped out from your manor and into the open fields, driving past through the line of trees and narrow roads with ease, his knuckles turning white to the bone from his iron grip.

“Your Highness, slow down! We might crash!”

Your pleads were met by deaf ears. Prince Suna did not slow down the least bit. If anything, the sound of your voice encouraged him to drive faster, the tick of his jaw one of the last things you saw before your vision blurred.

The scenery of the fields was incomprehensible. Your ears still rang from your previous act of hunting that damned bird behind Princess Iris. Your breathing laboured, knees turning weak the faster he drives until the splash of blue skies felt nauseating. Bile slowly rose bitterly from your throat as you clutched at your seatbelt for dear life. He wouldn’t budge even as your other arm clutched at his in an attempt to get him to slow down, but it was too late. It would have been too late.

You were nearing the edge of the cliff, and at this speed, none of you would survi—

“Your Highness!”

Prince Suna hit the brakes.

Chest heaving up and down, your husband turned to you with an incredulous look painted on his handsome features, minus its usual softness that he reserved when you were behind closed doors. Today, the Prince was all rough and aggressive from when he disappeared and into your side, yanking you out by the wrist despite your whines. You fell on your knees then, palms now littered with scratches as it bled against the rough pavement. But did the Prince notice? Did your husband care that his wife panted below him, trembling the longer she stared at her new wounds?

What would Her Majesty say? It was unspoken of that royals bear any scars. Flaws were rare as they were taboo, and if you were scarred, then that made your value of a Princess less.

Your own husband was giving you more reasons to not be by his side.

“Get up.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice. His command was cold as ice, yet his eyes said otherwise. You did not know this man. The Crown Prince would never stare at you like you were the vilest thing he had ever laid his eyes on, his muscular arm flexing when he brushed his hair with his hand and fumes.

“My Prince, what are you—”

“How fucking dare you,” he spat out with a ridiculed scoff, “How dare you threaten the life of Her Highness like that. Is your head so empty after being fucked dumb that you forgot she is married to the Second Prince, and the only Princess that prevents Itachiyama from meddling with our country? You could have easily ruined five years of their alliance with that stupid act of yours!”

Your head reeled back from his stinging insults.

“I-I did not mean it, Your Highness.”

“You didn’t mean it,” he repeated mockingly, “Oh, so you just happen to be loading your weapon and pointing it at your sister, is that right?”

You scoffed.

“The Princess is not my sister.”

“She’s the wife of your husband’s brother. Whether you like it or not, we are all family now, and family treats each other with respect. More so that we are royals! Yet you...” the Prince grimaced at a loss for words, teeth clenching as his finger angrily poked at his head. “You could not piece that together, could you? It is because you don’t think. You are a fucking halfwit for not being careful with your—”

Tears clouded your vision. You no longer cared about being elegant and presenting yourself as a royal at all times when your voice rose in octaves, the words leaving your mouth as shaky as the tremors in your heart.

“You are treating me too rudely, Your Highness! You act as if I had committed a grave sin!”

“Because you have!”

“But I did not harm anybody, so you have no right to punish me for something I did not do—”

“You almost killed my girlfriend!” your husband seethed, “You, with your dirty little fingers and pride, trampling around like you own the place, pointed a hunting rifle to my girlfriend! Had I not stopped you earlier, I would have lost her. I would have lost the woman I loved, and I do not think I could ever forgive you or myself should that ever happen. Or rather, I would never allow you to set even a foot near me for as long as I live,” and to add salt to the wounds, he shook his head and looked away from you. “You repulse me.”

You clenched your jaw, nails digging into your palm as you willed yourself to calm down.

How you were able to speak calmly would be far and beyond you.

You somehow managed a laugh, no matter how dry it sounded, and wiped the shameful tears you shed. How embarrassing that you foolishly believed any of his promises had been real. You had really thought you were loved, but now that your own husband stood before you and could barely look you in the eye, what did that truly make you? The villain? The mistress? The halfwit, as he called you?

“She...is your girlfriend?”

The Prince threw his hands up in the air at the sight of your tears. “Oh, how mature, Princess. You’re a grown woman crying like a child. Go and let the waterworks flow if that is all you can do.”

“Do you have any idea how heartless you sound right now?”

“You have the audacity to tell me that when someone was nearly in danger because of you?”

“And you have the audacity to be angry at me because I could have hurt your mistress?”

Prince Suna sucked in a sharp breath. He stalked you until you were cornered between him and the car, left trapped and holding your breath even though he was not touching you. Funny, you found it, that even at a time like this you craved for his touch. They had always been soothing. Always tender and comforting you when you were at your lowest, but that time seemed like a lifetime ago already. Because the husband you married was not real—the husband you believed would have loved you as he should and would never glare at you like this as he warned in barely above a whisper, “Don’t call her that. Her Highness is not a mistress.”

“Oh, but she is. She is a woman married to your brother, and yet she is in a relationship with the Crown Prince, who might I remind you, asked for my hand in marriage!” to prove your point, you flashed him the bodacious ring sitting atop your finger.

The Prince merely spared a glance.

“Indeed. It is a decision I am severely regretting as of this moment,” he declared, and the bitter regret coating his tongue was more than enough to let you fall limp against the car. The Prince, ever scheming and malice as he truly was, took the opportunity of your defeated state to straighten his collar down before straightening his back. “Let me clarify it to you, Your Highness. I never loved you. I never wanted you. It is Princess Iris whom I want, and it is with her where my heart will always be. The only reason you and I stand together here now is because I love her so much I was willing to do anything to make her mine. And you were simply there when I needed a wife most. It was you who made my plans within arm’s reach. So should you ever feel any sort of distaste for our marriage, then you must take the blame upon yourself. Princess Iris is innocent and I will be damned before I let you lay a hand on her ever again.”

The corners of your lips tilted upwards. Matching his hard stare, you exhaled. “You are far more despicable than I believed you capable, my Prince.”

He let out a sardonic laugh.

“Had you not laid a hand on her, this would have never happened. This was your fault. You could have simply played your part as a docile wife, left her alone, and I would have still regarded you kindly.”

“Regard me kindly?” you echoed, “You expect me to flatter you in thanks that you would treat your wife civilly under the condition I turn a blind eye to your affair?”

“Yes, for that is all you will ever get from me,” looking at you from head to toe, Prince Suna snickered. “I don’t even know what I saw in you. You should be elated I even married you to begin with—had I not, you would have rotted alone in your silly little mansion. Unloved. Uncared for. Unvaluable. As you always have been.”

Unknown to your numbed state, your husband walked away.

He rounded the car and went inside his seat, locking it before you could get a chance to get in. The sound of the engine revving brought you back to life as you peered at your husband with wide eyes, pounding on the glass windows while he slowly backed away. He would not dare leave you here, right? He wouldn’t. “Your Highness, wait! Please don’t leave—”

The Prince could not even bother to look back at you once before his car zoomed past, the vehicle slowly disappearing into view. You were left with the company of the birds’ chirping and your heartbeat drumming in your chest, falling back onto your bum as you processed what just happened.

He left you.

“No, no, no, this is not happening... it can’t be...”

The Prince, your husband, your best friend, your whole world—he just left you. Not once did he look back—there was no remorse or mercy in his words or actions—he just left you. And you realized perhaps heartbreak was a worse fate than death because surely, nothing could hurt more than this. You were slowly being pushed to the edge as your ring glinted back at you in the sunlight, serving as a cruel reminder that your fairytale of a love story ended before it even began. What were you thinking anyway? That he was a Prince Charming sweeping you off your feet to the land of happily ever after’s? That was not real. He was not real. The Prince was not charming, he never loved you, and you knew all that. You always knew.

And maybe the Prince spoke nothing but the truth.

Maybe this was all your fault.

You could have avoided this on the night he announced your engagement and you found out about his affair. Or was it really an affair? He loved her first. He met her first. He simply met you at a different time and he already had someone else in his heart, but why did his words bear a heavy weight of truth the more he rubbed it in your face you were useless? Was this all you were good for? Good enough to be a Princess, but not worthy enough to be a loved wife.

Did you really mean so little to him?

By this point, you were just playing with fire. He was right by calling you a fool because you knew everything yet acted as if you were clueless and stepped head-on in a battle you were not prepared for.

This was too much, and you’d been married for barely a week. Everything was falling apart right before your eyes yet you never learned your lesson as you stood up and rubbed at the ache in your chest, the tears salty on your lips and stinging your skin from how flushed you’d been. Like a true fool, you retraced the indents of his wheel into the concrete and planned to walk back home when the scenery before you had you halting in your steps. Surrounded by trees of green and hills looming overhead, you could not spot your manor from here. You did not know where to go, and you did not have a phone to ask for help. You hadn’t travelled enough around the humble town and its massive territories of land to memorize the way back home from this dead end, and you don’t think you had ever felt this hopeless in your life before.

Who would come save you now?

“Rin,” you choked back his name with a sob, hugging your arms to yourself as the nearby forest haunted you with its dark, looming presence. Here, you were left alone, and no Prince Charming or a Knight in Shining Armour would come help you now no matter how hard you tried to summon one.

After all, you were not a Princess in a fairytale. You did not live in a universe where there would be fairies to come saving you or a light would guide you for the darkness that would settle in a number of hours. The reality of your fate was that you were in a loveless marriage where you were more of a pawn than a woman, and the man you so dearly loved and gave your everything to was powerful enough to leave you high and blue in the middle of nowhere.

The slamming of car doors shut woke everybody up from their agitated stupors in the welcoming room. There, the Sixth Prince met eyes with his brothers and their wives who eyed him up and down in careful glances before they settled to the empty side him, the silent question hanging in the air as to why his wife was not there. Well, he always hated to disappoint, but Prince Suna would not be bringing her back anytime soon. He merely ignored his brothers’ raised brows and searched for the pair of eyes—the only one who seemed eager for his return without a smidge of judgement in her brown, doe eyes.

“Angel,” he immediately softened, crouching before his lover whose legs wouldn’t stop bouncing on the couch. Caressing her knee, he left little kisses on her skin. “How are you feeling? You are not injured anywhere, are you?”

“No, my Prince. There is not even a single scratch on me.”

Rin sighed in relief. “Oh, thank heavens.”

At least Princess Iris was safe. Had you really shot her and not that stupid bird, Prince Suna would fear of what he was capable of doing to you. Divorce would be too merciful, but exile did not seem gratifying enough either. The law clearly stated that anyone who should bring harm or even threat the safety of a royal would immediately be punished through execution, and Prince Suna was not far from deeming it the opposite of plausible.

However, his flickering relief over Iris’ safety vanished the moment your name fell from her lips.

“Your Highness... where is the Princess?”

Scowling, Rin snatched a nearby bottle of whiskey and situated himself beside his lover. He would rather not let you cross his mind from now on. “Refrain from asking about the Princess. I do not wish to talk about her after she pulled that stunt with you.”

Prince Tooru whistled from the doorway. “Well, I’ll be damned, brother. You might as well say goodbye to the throne you so badly want after this,” he sniggered before pushing his weight off the wall, using two fingers to gesture a servant to scurry his way. Whatever Tooru was thinking, Suna did not like it, and he watched as his brother stuffed his hands deep into his pockets with a bored expression. “Oi, fetch me my keys—”

“You will not go after the Princess.”

The Fifth Prince paused momentarily before his laughter echoed in the room.

“Are you serious, brother? I understand you are upset with what she did, but it was valid, don’t you think? The entire time we have been here, you paid more attention to your brother’s wife than your own. In fact, you two are so desperate for each other I would not put it past the Princess if she knew about you already, so if you ask me, was it ethical she pointed a gun at Iris? Absolutely not. But do I support it? Mayhaps. It was a bold move, if you ask me, and heavens know this trip would have been numbingly boring were it not for—”

Beside him, Prince Kiyoomi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tooru, please shut your mouth. You are not helping the situation.”

Prince Tooru surveyed everybody’s face at his brother’s comment, and was left disappointed when the servants ducked their heads or averted gazes. Even his brothers were highly unimpressed, and his usual teetering wife cowered behind him at the apparent irritation of Suna.

“Oh, stop looking at me like that, guys! I am not better than any of you, but at least have some self-awareness!” he grumbled, “It does not matter if I am not good terms with Princess Maiko—our marriage was just for money anyway. But this is Rintaro we are talking about. If the cheeky Princess decides to open her mouth about what her own husband did—if he does not even try going after her—then he’s fucked. Bye-bye King Suna, long live the king! Oh wait, I forgot we don’t have one.”

“Stay out of marriages that are not yours.”

“I could say the same about you,” retorted Prince Tooru without missing a beat, and judging by the exasperated frown of his beloved brother, Tooru knew he had pressed a button.

“Do not speak to me so casually. You may be older than me, but I am still your Crown Prince.”

“Frankly speaking, brother, I do not give a fuck about your title and rank, but alright,” dropping the car keys the servant had given him back to the tray it was presented on, Prince Tooru walked out of the room with a mock salute. “I warned you, so don’t come crying to me when your short-lived marriage ends in a divorce. ‘Can’t promise things won’t get ugly.”

The hours into eventide would have been more bearable were Suna’s brothers not ignoring him. Clearly, they disapproved of his decisions, but who was he to care? He was the Crown Prince and held the highest authority out of everybody within that room; he had no obligation to please anybody but himself and his lover. He could not care less that nobody spoke a word during dinner, excluding Prince Tooru’s blatant, exaggerated sighs and careless throwaway comment that you must have been eaten by bears by now, which (much to his demise) plagued his head until his brothers and Princess Maiko retreated into the game room once they finished their meals.

They seemed too eager to leave, and while he had no intention of following, Suna couldn’t help it.

He refused to join their silly games (not that he was invited) when they were being rude to him and acting as if he did not exist, but Suna found himself hiding outside the room anyways as he awaited Prince Tooru to at least half-heartedly invite him. Make brotherly amends or some shit. Childish as it sounded, but he hated having discourse with his brothers. He already lived plenty of years separated from them per Her Majesty’s command. It was not until Prince Suna became the official Crown Prince along with Wakatoshi that he was given a chance to spend more time with the brothers he grew up without, so the silent treatment was akin to torture to him—as if it was not enough that the possibility of you being in danger lingered in his head.

He seriously pondered over it. Or more like, Rintaro would not stop pacing back and forth in your shared room as he mentally debated whether he should get you back or not. Even Princess Iris got impatient with his lack of responses to her that she occupied herself with drinks.

But no, Rintaro had to be strict with himself. You were getting too comfortable now that you were granted with power and the privilege to be his lover, even if it was only on paper, that it was only right he set boundaries and put you back in your place. You ought to be taught a lesson. It would only be harder for you if he broke the news of his ‘affair’ further into the future, or so he was convincing himself. The truth was that Prince Suna was unsure he would be able to sleep if something happened to you.

What if you were hurt?

You must be so scared and looking for him right now—that was just who you were, utterly forgiving and still seeking the comfort only he can provide like he was not also the cause of your misery.

He may not be in love, but he still cared.

He cared enough that he remained hiding in the dark hallway outside the pool room upon hearing Princess Maiko conversing with a servant. “Have you found the Princess?”

“Yes, Your Highness. The Princess headed to the town centre and arrived in a bed and breakfast establishment. We believe she will spend several nights there as she carried with her some spare clothes she must have got along the way,” the servant’s voice grew quieter, “Should we pick the Princess up, Your Highness? She is without guards. This will pose a threat to her safety the further she is from the royal family.”

“Picking her up would draw too much attention... the people might wonder why the newly married Princess is wandering the town alone.”

Prince Suna could hear the cogs turning in Princess Maiko’s head, but their thoughts were cut off when Prince Kiyoomi mumbled something along the lines of, “Leave her be. She will be fine.” Suna could not hear well from this distance, but the laid back confidence from his brother’s voice put him at unrest. You barely interacted with Kiyoomi due to his constant absence, so what gave him the right to act as if he knew you well?

“How are you so sure of that, my Prince?”

Prince Tooru hollered from scoring in the background. “Hah, take that, Omi-Omi! I was always better at you in everything!”

The older brother ignored Tooru. “This is her hometown, and the place is filled with farmers and cattle only. Other roads or points of entry have also been closed off for our privacy. Trading wine was put on temporary hold. Nobody gets in or out while we’re here. I assure you the Princess will be safe, perhaps even more comfortable that she is left alone,” he noted, and Suna hated how right he sounded. “Put yourself in her shoes. She does not want to see any of us right now.”

‘Us’ naturally including him.

This was your honeymoon, and against his better self, he had actually looked forward to it, too. Suna wanted to spend time with you in the same town you spent every childhood summer in as your stories never failed to bring him a sense of belonging and the promise of a home he was not familiar with. He would be lying too if he said he did not imagine your future children running around this same manor someday, thinking he’d love to play hide and seek with the kids and teach them how to ride bikes—simple yet normal experiences for a child that his parents deprived him of. But he also had Iris, and Suna would rather be lacking in a royal title than to be a father as bad as his, which is why the actual possibility of having you bear his children was not as easy as it seemed.

Nevertheless, it weighed heavily on his shoulders with each passing second where he is reminded he ruined the honeymoon. His marriage, which was sweet while it lasted, was crumbling to pieces. Everything he hoped for seemed like a far away dream again.

He wondered, though, if maybe Tooru was right. If Suna ran after you and apologized, maybe got on his knees to beg for your forgiveness, would that have changed anything? Would you still come back to him after everything he said to you? After he abandoned you?

Sighing, Suna retreats into the living room. Where he expected solace, he was instead greeted by your family portrait. You couldn’t have been older than ten in the photo, with your parents’ hands on your shoulder and you shyly beaming up at the camera while your parents gazed down fondly at you. It was clear to anybody how adored you were, but now Suna tore his eyes away from the portrait as he imagined the look on your mother’s face if she finds out about his lies. How your father, who he also considered his own after being disregarded by His Late Majesty, would refuse to share drinks or hunt with him again. Not after he hurt their precious daughter.

He had to be more than thick faced if he wanted to face your parents again.

With that thought, Suna sat forward with his arms on his knees, head buried in his hands as the turmoil in his head messed with him. It wasn’t until soft fingers wrapped around his bicep that Suna opened his eyes to see his beloved smiling softly at him. She reeked of alcohol, but he was always left in awe by her beauty.

The sight of her, safe and sound, and staying with him no matter what, had him leaning against the couch. “Iris...” She climbs onto his lap without a second word and wraps her arms around his neck. She didn’t say anything, but the soothing circles she left on his skin did not much to soothe him, nor did it provide a solution to his troubles.

As if noticing the distress on his face, Iris nudged her nose with his. “You should go after her, Rinrin. She needs you right now.”

Suna’s face fell.

Was Iris really suggesting that right now? Did she not know she was the reason Suna had to leave you like that?

“Why are... are you pushing me away?”

“I am not, but your brother is right. People will find it suspicious that she is alone when she was supposed to be with you, especially at a time when newly married couples cannot keep their hands off of each other,” she reminded, her newly done French tips brushing against his chest as she patted him like he was a child unable to comprehend common sense. “You must bring her back home, Rin. All your plans will fall to ruin if you do not try to win her back.”

“I do not want to her win back. She nearly killed you.”

“She never hurt me. See?” brushing her hair back to reveal her shoulders—where the bullet was just centimetres away from grazing her—Iris squeezed Suna in reassurance. “The Princess would never do that. She must have just woken up in a bad mood and I happen to be in the way when she was overwhelmed. Marriages are daunting. Take it from me, I have more experience than you.”

Suna bit back the gloom welcoming him.

The last thing he wanted was to ask his own girlfriend for marriage advice, so he pressed kisses onto her knuckles in the hopes she’d stop mentioning how she was a married woman. “You are too kind, you know that?”

Iris giggled as Suna’s lips tickle her skin.

“I am just fair. The Princess does not seem like a rash person, so go ahead and apologize for leaving her. Remember, Rin, we need her to help us stay together. You need to get on her good side.”

“You think she will accept my apology after everything I said?”

Iris brushed Rin’s hair comfortingly. “Like I always say,” she hummed, “If she truly loved you, she would forgive you no matter what. All married couples fight. This should not get in the way if she wanted a strong marriage with you.” Now that, Suna wondered how credible it would be coming from her when she and Kiyoomi never had a marital altercation. They went their separate ways from the day of the wedding and have been contented with the way things had been as they weren’t aware of each other’s existence prior to the marriage, but Suna’s situation was drastically different.

He had been lying to you since the beginning, and he didn’t know which was worse—the fact that he felt guilty but will keep hurting you anyway, or his selfish desire to keep you wrapped around his finger.

“You are right, but... I do not want to see her right now. Even the thought of having to apologize to the woman who harmed you sickens me.”

“Oh, you are over thinking now, my Prince,” she cooed, gripping his chin to force him to look at her when his gaze levelled with her chest instead, inviting him to touch them. Soon, his hands were running up her sides until their lips met halfway from their neediness for each other. The current stressful events along with the fear of nearly losing his beloved drove Suna to hoisting her legs to wrap around his waist as they stumbled into the bedroom, and the next parts to come felt almost like a routine. Therapeutic, almost, because with her—with Iris—he did not have to pretend. He did not have to worry about anything else when he was buried inside her and she was moaning his name into his ear like a prayer, nor did he have the energy to care about the missing wife he had treated awfully.

But Iris could only distract him for so long.

Because as soon as she drifted off to sleep, Rin was left alone staring at his wedding ring. Reminiscing how bright your smile had been when he first slipped the engagement ring to your hands which he kissed afterwards. Remembering how hurt you looked when he told you the truth, yet he knew he had no damn right to hope for your forgiveness.

Tooru was right—Suna might as well say goodbye to the throne he sought out from the moment he fell in love with Iris. Iris...

Glancing at his lover’s blissfully asleep form beside him, snuggled into his arm like he was the only thing keeping her afloat, Suna’s throat grew tight at the realization he was unknowingly turning you into her. How he did not mean to do so, but he ended up mistreating you the same way Kiyoomi did to Iris. How hypocritical of him that he hated his older brother for not loving his wife when he was not any better, and Suna shut his eyes to block the thoughts away. He did not want to be like Kiyoomi. He did not want to be like Tooru who reminded his wife every day that he wishes he was never born if it meant ending up with her. He did not want to be like his father who only married his mother because he was an irresponsible, drunkard bastard who needed a capable woman to fulfil his duties to the country while he bedded multiple women.

Suna wanted to be better than them, but how?

If there was even the smallest chance of redemption for himself, he would take it. All he needed was to—

Go after you.

That was right. He just needed to find you and take you back home, apologize for what he’d done and come clean about everything he lied to you about. You deserved that, and Suna was shuffling out of bed as carefully as he could to not wake Iris up before he even realized what he was doing.

Clothes on, wedding ring secured on his finger, and his car keys twirled on his finger, Suna shut the door and left the manor.

He would find you.

He would get you back, and he would stop at nothing until you were running back into his arms again.

The town centre could not be anymore farther from the manor than a ten minute drive. He arrived there in less from how eagerly he rushed into looking for that bed and breakfast establishment the servant was talking about, but it proved to be a challenge when he was greeted by a silent, dead town. All the lights were shut off, not a single soul was in sight, and the chilly cold air made his fingers feel numb even through his jacket.

Suna winced. He couldn’t remember if you wore a jacket that morning before he drove off. Shrugging his own, he rested it on his arms before finally walking towards the largest building with the lights still on—its brightness like a firefly dancing in the middle of a pitch black river. He gravitated to it like his heart just knew you were there, and the Prince could not contain his smile when he saw an elderly couple talking inside.

They spoke in hushed whispers over a cup of coffee, brows knotted together that Suna had to knock at least three times to get their attention.

“Your Highness!” the old lady noticed him first and quickly placed down her coffee before opening the door, her eyes widening by a fraction at the Prince’s unannounced arrival. Behind her, her husband waddled with a deep frown. “I—how may we serve you today, Your Highness? We don’t have any guests over to ensure the safety of your honeymoon—”

“My wife. Is she here?”

“Oh...” the old lady glanced back at her husband, seemingly sharing a silent conversation before she nodded. “Yes, the Princess arrived here this morning.”

Suna had to physically restrain himself from showing relief by balling his hands into his fists. Smiling as politely as he could, he welcomed himself inside the building, knowing full well nobody could deny him entrance or escort him out lest they wanted their business to fail. The old couple must have been aware of this too as they silently trailed behind the curious Prince assessing the lobby and looking for any signs you were there.

“How is she doing?”

“The Princess is well, Your Highness. She is merely paying her monthly visits to check on the family business and spends the night here as usual. I suppose this routine of hers must have surprised you?”

“Family business?”

The old lady, who introduced herself as Maggie, pushed her glasses up her nose and cleared her throat. “Yes, Your Highness. Her Highness’ maternal side of the family owns all establishments here in Greenville. It is not uncommon that she sees for herself how the business fares—the Princess has always been diligent and hardworking at such a young age. That was why we are not surprised that she still paid time to visit us even on her honeymoon.”

“I see,” he raised a brow at the new information. He’d always known your mother handled several chains of business that benefitted the royal family, but to own everything in a small town of his kingdom unnerved him. If he was not mistaken, Greenville was the biggest supplier of multiple infamous Inarizaki wines. To have you be in control of such a percentage of what kept Inarizaki’s economy and popularity flourishing... Suna couldn’t help but wonder what the consequences would be if you left him. Having you as his partner drastically increased the approval he received as a more respectable Crown Prince compared to his brother’s wife, Princess Camilla, who came from a line of nobles who were no longer as influential as they used to be.

“My wife is truly impressive. I had not known about this beforehand, and was worried sick when I woke up alone in bed.”

“If His Highness was worried, why only seek the Princess out now? It is nearing sunrise,” the old man grumbled, only to be smacked by his wife whose face paled.

“Albert!”

However, Suna was a Crown Prince. He couldn’t let an old man’s accusatory tone get the best of him—a perfectly done faux nervous smile partnered by scratching the back of his head was all he needed to pull off the act of an innocently worried husband. “All she left me was a note of her doing some errands and that she would be home before midnight, but she must have been too tired to return home. I thought I had to pick her up now,” he informed, eyes scanning the area before it landed on a certain room that lit a light bulb in his head. “Do you mind if I borrow your kitchen?”

“Of course not, Your Highness! Feel free to roam around the place as you please, but... you do not have to cook for yourself, my Prince. We would be more than honoured to prepare breakfast for you and your wife. Please tell us your preferences and any dietary restrictions.”

Suna waved a dismissive hand.

“I will cook Her Highness breakfast myself.”

He just hoped he would not accidentally poison you. Suna did not know how to cook, much less do anything mundane such as chores, but he would even go as far as borrowing a cookbook now that he was here anyway. He had eyes on him, and an old man was already suspicious that Suna had to stifle a snicker at the newfound irritation.

Why couldn’t you have just come home? You did not have to stir up this much trouble.

But alas, he was the cause of it, so he needed to fix it himself.

Guided by Maggie to the kitchen and giving him instructions on how to use the stove, the three of them were surprised by the sound of the front door slamming open with heavy footsteps. Suna was quick to reach out an arm to protect the defenceless elderly couple behind him, prepared to face any sort of danger when he saw a tuft of brown hair and a giggling woman in his arms. The tall man struggled to help the woman inside before she sank into the couch, falling into a fit of laughter mixed with sobs in the span of seconds.

“Tooru?”

Caught red-handed, Tooru’s eyes widened upon seeing Suna trudge to where they are. His mouth fell agape at you sprawled out on the couch, head resting on Tooru’s thighs as you mumbled something he couldn’t catch over and over again. Enraged, Suna attempted to move your head away from Tooru when you protested and flailed your arms in defiance.

“Ugh, let me goooo!”

“Tooru, did you get my wife drunk?” Suna snapped, his heart pounding incessantly as an overwhelming bitter emotion swelled in his chest. “What the fuck were you doing with her?!”

The Fifth Prince rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but was rudely cut off when your voice turned serious even as the words came out slurred. “Oh look, it’s my husband dearest,” you sniffled, and Suna finally noticed how your face was flushed and tear stains were evident in your skin. His instincts getting the best of him, he wrapped you in his jacket the next second, shuffling you into his arms while he ignored your fists lightly bumping his chest with every sob forced out of you.

His heart ached.

“Let me go, I don’t w-want to see you!”

Rubbing his palms up and down your back, Suna left three kisses on your forehead until you calmed down from the gesture, burying deep into his embrace until your tears pooled into the crook of his neck. And he hated it, hated how he could feel your body quiver while you fisted his shirt the harder you cried and found it harder to breathe. He hated how he couldn’t do much to help other than to keep kissing your cheeks, your eyelids, your tears—anything to reassure you that he was not going to leave again. “Shh, my Princess, I’m here now, you’re alright—”

The Crown Prince was rendered speechless at the next words that left your mouth.

“I will—” you hiccupped through another sob, “—never let you become King.”

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