TNT: I saw these on insta (senpai_minato) first! I’m so glad you went through and messaged us them on the RRAU blog so we could share them!!!! I love the addition of the emblem and you got his poofy shirt extra poofy and extra on point I love everything about this!! Mad props for attempting to replicate the crown bc I know that piece was gonna be a huge pain for anyone interested in cosplaying teeny king;; I’m super flattered, thank you so much!!!
An art/fic collab between myself (@straylize) and Polux (@hyakunana)! All of the art by Polux, but below you can read the fic that accompanies it! We wanted to give this pair some love, and the watercolor work is fantastic. The fic was a ton of fun to write too. We hope everyone enjoys this!
Art: @hyakunana
Fic: @straylize
Title: “Axe”ident
Word Count: 5003
AO3 Link: here!
Preview:
Some forces in the world were truly impossible to fight against—the rolling waves of a stormy sea, the beating sun in the desert, the rocky terrain of the mountains—and Haru Okumura.
Ryuji Sakamoto had learned that many years ago—she was a strong-willed woman, one who would never change her mind once it became set on something. It was truly fortunate, though, that she was generally the sort to use that will power in order to bring about good for herself and those around her. Even the greatest of obstacles were not meant to stand in her way, and if they threatened to, then Haru would find a way to tear them down herself. It was simply her way, after all. Despite being generally soft-spoken and seen as demure by many, Ryuji was also aware that she could be firm and assertive; her ability to know exactly how to balance those aspects of her personality were exactly what made her so effective.
It was something he learned when he only barely knew her, as he had experienced firsthand how her sheer strength of will could get her exactly what she wanted once she had set her mind to it. They were only teenagers when Ryuji first met Haru; they were only teenagers when a fateful moments led him to find her in a dangerous situation in a back alley one night. They were only teenagers when he took a stand against her attacker, and only teenagers when he sustained a serious injury to protect her. In turn, they were only teenagers when Haru decided that this brave young man was the one worthy of serving as her retainer.
She had never cared for the man tasked with being her protector; though she was taught to do as her father said, it certainly hadn’t meant she enjoyed it. Kunikazu Okumura was a man of great power, leading both the Okumura region and its capital, the city of Astarte, to great prosperity. His control over things around him was unmatched, and though he abided by the laws of Arisatia and respected the King’s rule, anything purely under his jurisdiction was handled in a manner that couldn’t be denied as uniquely his. But strict as he may have been, there were times when he knew how to compromise—and very often, that compromise had been with his very own daughter. He had not been keen on the idea of Ryuji serving as her retainer, and with good reason. He was a commoner, practically a peasant by Astarte’s standards. He was crass and crude, even when on his best behavior, and it was made clear that he had a short fuse.
To further that, the boy had been injured. Haru’s attacker, a man Kunikazu had once put a measure of trust in, had broken Ryuji’s leg and left him potentially unable to fully recover. He had believed that at most, paying for the boy’s medical care would suffice well enough, but Haru refused that notion. She wanted for Ryuji to be her retainer at any cost. That person was the only one she felt suitable, far more than who Kunikazu himself had tasked, and certainly well beyond that of the suitors he had chosen for her.
It was clear to him that her reasons stretched beyond being enamored by his brave façade. Kunikazu Okumura was a man who knew his daughter well, bold and soft-spoken, but a romantic at heart. She was interested in Ryuji as a suitor, regardless of class and circumstance. And that reason had been precisely why Kunikazu agreed only on the conditions that when his leg recovered, he would have to work twice as hard to prove he was capable of being a protector. Kunikazu needed to ensure this boy would be up to the task, that everything Haru wanted him to be would, in fact, be met.
Her fierce determination was truly a force to be reckoned with, because it hadn’t only been her father that she had won over with her stubborn demeanor. It had been Ryuji as well. She had made it clear to him in those days that she didn’t intend to take no for an answer. Haru stood by his side each day as he recovered and rehabilitated; she had been the one to support his weight when he took his first steps, and the one to cheer him on as he trained his body to meet the standards that Kunikazu had set in place all those months before.
The journey had been a long one, to be sure, but just as Ryuji had inspired Haru with his brave and chivalrous nature, with his boldness and his crass mouth, Haru was just as inspiring. She was a young woman who never gave up, even when things looked grim. She somehow always found a way to smile even through her struggles, and her determination was something that Ryuji himself never wanted to deny. It was why he had given in to being her retainer to begin with…
And why in the years that followed, he found himself unable to say no to her whims. It took them years to find that balance, but it was one that suited them perfectly. A noble and her retainer, but also the closest and dearest of friends—and a myriad of feelings that existed between them unspoken. They owed their lives to one another in a sense—Haru’s very literally, while Ryuji’s was centered solely on how a peasant would not have made a life for himself that was sustainable without her help.
It had been nearly a decade from that fateful day when Haru, the immovable force she was, had begged sweetly for Ryuji to accompany her somewhere new.
“I dunno, Haru. Could be dangerous with so many people in town,” His words came out easily, casually; though it was uncommon to hear a retainer speak their lord’s name with no formality, it was preferred between them. Haru disliked the stuffy formalities. Being called ‘my lady,’ felt impersonal; they were friends, first and foremost, after all.
“That is why you should accompany me though, isn’t it?” Haru’s response, in turn, had been almost sickeningly sweet. Her looped her arm around Ryuji’s and gave it a gentle squeeze against her as she offered him a knowing smile.
Ryuji’s cheeks flushed slightly, he allowed his gaze to avert as his brows knit together. “That circus thing’s in town, ain’t it? Who knows what kind of weirdos are wandering around.”
“I believe they’re a troupe of traveling entertainers rather than a circus. But they’re famous! Mako said her sister has heard of them, even all the way from Eigaon!”
Her tone was airy and delighted; Haru always managed to emanate warmth at even the smallest of details. Careful to press again Ryuji in a half-hug, she elected to reiterate her point. “It’s barely off the manor’s grounds, anyway. If the city weren’t so bustling today, I’d have gone alone like I usually do.”
Ryuji’s expression shifted into a frown.
“Your old ma—Governor Okumura… he’s really gonna kill my ass one of these days if you keep runnin' off to some secret hideout without tellin’ me…” He paused, and it was followed by a brief, but exasperated sigh. “Guess I’m gonna have to go with… you’ll just go without me anyway, won’t ya…”
It was almost immediate how Haru pulled away from Ryuji and clapped her hands together, equal parts enthralled and victorious. She let out a giggle before she turned in the opposite direction. “I’ll meet you at the back entrance, Ryuji!”
With another sigh, Ryuji took off in the direction of his own room; if he was going to accompany her beyond the manor’s gates, then he would have to be prepared for all threats while remaining inconspicuous. That meant wrapping the weaker part of his leg with a bandage for a little extra support, his light armor, and a small but blunt concealed weapon. These were just the basics, as he didn’t anticipate a proper threat in the way he did when they ventured in toward the city center or the harbor—but it was his duty to protect Haru, and he would take all the precautions necessary to be able to carry out his duties as needed.
Getting ready always took a bit of time for Ryuji for that reason; a retainer still had protocols to follow in order to be effective. As he did so, he wondered quietly just what it was Haru was up to. It wasn’t uncommon for her to go off on her own for a bit, particularly after having an argument with Kunikazu or anyone else. No matter how calm she remained, Ryuji had learned that she did have her own fire of rebellion within her. The first time they’d had a major disagreement, she had, with a smile, contemplated getting an axe.
It was something he played off as a joke and then quickly apologized for his insolence, but over the years, that threat had come out a few times. Naturally, Ryuji had never actually seen her wield an axe, or perhaps he would have taken it seriously.
In any case, that day had seemed a bit different to Ryuji. Haru was in good spirits, and yet still wanted to venture off to her secret place. That place she went off on her own to and demanded Ryuji not follow—which, on those days, was advisable. He still followed her a certain distance so that he would be able to come to her aid if needed, but never followed through the whole way, nor did he peek in on what she had been doing. Unlike all of those times in the past, though, she had requested his presence. It was hard for him to not wonder, though he guessed that she would be revealing her intentions soon enough.
By the time he had prepared fully for their small outing, Haru had been waiting in their agreed upon meeting spot.
“Sorry,” Ryuji offered the apology lightly, bringing a hand up to his head to ruffle a bit as his short, disheveled hair. “Wrapping my leg took a little longer than planned.”
It was only a half-truth, and though Haru knew it, she responded by shaking her head and offering him a smile. “We aren’t under any time limits. I wouldn’t just go on my own after you promised me that you’d come.”
That much was at least a truth. Haru certainly would have left without him if he refused to go or tried to stop her. But Ryuji said he’d go—so she had no reason to try an escape a cage that presently didn’t exist. He wished to keep her safe, he was tasked with the same, but he didn’t seek to limit her freedoms—he only sought to keep safe from harm as she chased those very freedoms she wanted for.
“Let’s get goin’ then,” He bowed slightly to her, an offer of gentlemanly politeness that seemed unfitting for someone as rough around the edges as Ryuji always was. Even after so many years, he hadn’t become stiff like many other nobles and retainers they knew. Yet still, despite those frayed edges, he did his duty well, following the nature he had been raised with—polite and only disrespecting those who didn’t show compassion or respect for others. Those types were the opposite of Haru, after all. With a smile, he moved towards the door, pulling it open and gesturing for her to exit the manor.
There was a brief silence that lingered as they made their way outside. The sun shone brightly above them, with few clouds in the sky to offer them shade. The air was warmer than most would expect for late spring—Astarte’s climate was well suited for being a beachside port city, with only the ocean breeze shifting their direction to cool them. It was nothing short of an ideal day to be outside, though even still, Ryuji had no idea what was on their agenda.
“So… where are we headed, anyway? I mean… I know it’s your secret spot, and I know the path’s this way, but…” He trailed off, in need of a brief pause to find the words he needed. Words weren’t exactly Ryuji’s strong suit, though, so he came up short. “Guess I’m just curious. Ain’t like you’ve given me any hints.”
“It wouldn’t be as fun without a little suspense, right?”
Haru giggled, and Ryuji’s cheeks flushed in response. Her answer was so typically like her; Haru was definitely the type to seek even the smallest of thrills if it meant keeping things a little more exciting.
"Haru speak for ‘I’m not telling, so just wait and see,’ huh.”
She responded with only a hum before she elected to take one step ahead of Ryuji. She would lead the way fearlessly, with little reason to hesitate. Her enthusiasm showed in her steps; they bounced in such a way that the curls of her hair seemed to have a life all their own, and Ryuji’s eyes seemed to focus easily on their movement. Her hair seemed to have a life of its own, somehow. When she was feeling glum, her curls seemed to deflate entirely, when angry, it seemed to stand straight on its ends. And then there were the days like this one, where her elation caused that bounce that seemed to been even more vibrant than her smile and more energetic than her steps. Ryuji had no idea how such a thing was even possible, and yet every day, he managed to see it with his own eyes.
There was a silence that fell after Haru hummed, warm and comfortable. It was something familiar between them, that they didn’t always need to converse in each other’s presence. Ryuji trusted where she would guide him; in turn, she trusted that he would keep her safe.
The path they walked wasn’t at all populated, though. Despite the hustle and bustle through Astarte’s streets, they stayed away from the main roads. They walked on one side of a stone wall, through a path of dirt and sand that was lined by trees and overgrowth. The other side of that wall was a populated city street, which left the two able to overhear the conversation of residents and tourists alike. Some spoke about their vacation plans to visit the beach, other spoke of merchant’s business, and further were the ones who spoke of that traveling troupe of entertainers that had made their way to the regional capital—the name ‘Seven Sisters’ came up quite frequently as they progressed along the path. Silence remained between the two of them, though, with Haru and Ryuji both content to let the idle chatter in the distance fill the air instead. For Haru, it was a good means of anticipation—which worked well on Ryuji’s ever-present curiosity.
The silence remained and anticipation built until they came across a small clearing in the path. It was hardly a sight to behold; the clearing was little more than dirt, sand and tree stumps. The stone wall remained on one side of them, while the path ahead narrowed just as it had behind them. Near the further narrowing path sat some large sections of wood, presumably from one of the trees that had been chopped down already, Ryuji concluded. Next to the wood was an axe, which seemed to be where Haru was headed.
She let out a pleased giggle as she bounced towards the axe, it seemed almost like a monumental effort for her to pick it up. She heaved a groan before she turned to look at Ryuji, who had been momentarily stunned into utter silence.
“Wa-wait—!” He barely managed to sputter out before an incredulous sound escaped. It took a long moment before he managed to form another sentence—which had somehow managed to sound even more incredulous than the incoherent sound that preceded it. “You were for real about that axe thing!? What the hell, Haru, that’s dangerous! You can barely hold it without topplin’ over!”
Haru didn’t falter even for a moment, though. It was as if she had completely anticipated the way Ryuji’s would react, and had a response telegraphed for that express purpose. “Did you really think I just took a walk to release all of that stress, Ryu? ”
Ryuji sputtered again; the sweet way she spoke betrayed the hardened edge of how she said his nickname specifically. Most would have thought it cute that she had one at all, but Ryuji knew that with the emphasis on his name that way, he probably needed to avoid pressing his luck too hard. “Lo-look. All I’m sayin’ is… you shoulda told me way earlier. Axes ain’t my thing, but I could’ve given you some form tips or somethin’ so you don’t get hurt.”
His jaw clenched, his brows drew together—Ryuji’s face was contorted in such a way that he was hoping he was cooling off the hot water he’d quickly found himself in. It wasn’t a lie , after all. He would have done all of those things had he known far earlier what she’d been up to… he just also would have perhaps preferred she chose to wield an axe that was more suited to her small frame.
“I think my form’s improved greatly since I picked this hobby up,” Seemingly satisfied with Ryuji’s backpedaling, she offered him a much less deadly smile. “That’s why I wanted to show you.”
“Why you wanted… to show… me?’
He was undoubtedly puzzled by her reasoning, which she also seemed to anticipate.
“You may be my retainer, but that doesn’t mean I want to rely on you for everything. I need to be able to defend myself better… but truthfully, I wanted to learn for myself how to do it,” She began to explain, and though Haru paused, she didn’t give Ryuji enough time to get a word in edgewise. “If I asked Father, he would likely set me up with a fencing instructor. But I don’t feel that suits me, and such… pristine lessons, they won’t lend well to truly being able to fight for myself. So that’s when I decided I would learn with a weapon of my choosing, and when the time was right, I would show you what I’ve learned.”
“Haru…” It took a long moment before Ryuji managed to utter even her name. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she always managed to find new ways to surprise him. Really, her reasoning hadn’t been at all surprising. She had always rebelled against following strict tradition, and always desired to do things on her own terms. This had been no different.
It was difficult not to just admire her tenacity, and so Ryuji dipped his head as a smile tugged as the corner of his mouth.
“You win, like always,” It wasn’t as if Ryuji would really say no to her anyway—it was merely an acknowledgement that her reasoning resonated with him, and Ryuji was not one to stop her. She was, after all, an unstoppable force in his eyes. A cyclonic beauty that couldn’t be matched in any sense of the word. “So… you just want me to watch what you can do, then?”
“If you could just move that piece of wood onto the stump for me…” She was capable of doing so for herself, but Haru knew she’d have to set the axe down in order to—and once she had it in hand, she didn’t want to have to pick it up again.
Ryuji’s eyes shifted warily to the axe before he nodded and moved towards the pile of unchopped wood. “Just watch where you’re swingin’ that thing.”
He meant it to say ‘ don’t swing it in my direction and take off a limb, ’ but even Ryuji had enough self-control to not let those words slip from his lips. The smile never left Haru’s lips, and though in that moment, it was difficult to read whether or not she harbored any annoyance that warranted a release of stress… there was at the very least, an aura of pride. Rather than push his luck any further, he did what she had requested from him—and then immediately pushed some distance between them by way of stepping back toward the wall.
“Watch closely, Ryuji!” Haru’s words were brief, but bright; that aura of pride in what she had taught herself seem to pour out of her. She stood in front of the tree stump, her hands tightly gripped around the haft of the axe. There was no form or finesse to it at all; the weapon was large and unwieldy for someone of her size and build. Yet still, Haru drew upward before she slammed the tool down towards the wood that sat upon the tree stump. It was with absolutely no skill at all that she’d somehow lucked out, splitting it down the middle. Her aim was good, to be sure… but she lacked technique.
Despite that, she looked at Ryuji proudly. “I know my form needs improvement, but when I first tried, I could hardly lift the axe…”
A stunned silence filled the air; Ryuji’s eyes were wide, but it was impossible for her to tell what he was thinking. Was he impressed? Surprised? Completely abhorred? She wouldn’t know, not until he spoke.
“Ho… ly… shit… ” stunned was certainly one way to describe his state at that moment. “Haru…”
Immediately, she began to backpedal. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and Ryuji responded in kind by leaping forward. “Oh… um. Did... Did I do poorly?”
“N-no. Nonono, it’s not that! I mean, yeah. Your form kinda sucks, but that shit ain’t easy. That axe is fuckin’ huge and you still split that thing right down the middle!” Abhorred definitely would not describe Ryuji—awed would, however. Haru brightened instantly; though Ryuji was crass and blunt, not hesitating at all to tell her that she still had a long way to go before improving—he was honest. She could see that even if he agreed she had much to learn, he had no intention of being discouraging toward her. Ryuji had never been good at holding back, after all—he was the sort who wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions plainly showed in his expression. It drew a sense of relief from Haru; even if Ryuji still appeared to be keeping a safe distance to avoid her wild swings, it was plainly obvious that he wasn’t displeased.
“Perhaps now that I have the basics, I could seek out someone to train me,” She mused quietly, more to herself than to Ryuji. It wasn’t as if she expected him to know where she’d even be able to find such a person—but Haru felt encouraged by Ryuji’s awed reaction.
“Keep it up and you’re gonna put me out a job…” His response came with a bit of an awkward laugh. He wasn’t really concerned that she would use that sort of training as a means of firing him, not after all she’d done to ensure he would be her retainer. He couldn’t deny though, that he felt a sense of joy and purpose in being able to be a pillar of strength for her, though. Even still, he believed in her ability to stand strong on her own Maybe it would mean that in the future, he would simply have to watch her back instead of guarding her on all sides. And really, would that be so bad? Ryuji didn’t think so. “Can’t deny that I kinda wanna see you do it again. Think you can go two-for-two?”
“I’d be happy to try, if you’d do the honor of placing down another piece of wood for me.”
That was a request that was easy for Ryuji to comply with; he wanted to see Haru try again. He didn’t actually harbor a single doubt about her capability to do so, he simply wanted to watch her a little more closely. He’d been (and still was) so awed that he couldn’t commit the action to memory as he’d wanted to. Besides that, Haru seemed so thrilled with herself that he could hardly resist indulging her once more. So he did as requested, offering her a playful bow at the formality of her request, and once he retrieved another piece of wood from the pile, he placed it upon the stump.
“All right, let’s see it!”
He encouraged, and Haru readied herself. It all looked just about the same to start, but as she began to swing the axe downward, the weight of the tool got the better of her. Her wrist twisted, her face contorted, and she let out a cry of distress. The axe dropped from her hands, and she managed only barely to evade another injury with a quick step back.
Ryuji left absolutely no room for hesitation.
“Haru!” He leapt forward, no time wasted as he made his way to her side. The axe was all but forgotten, as was his request to see any more of her new resolve. All that mattered was tending to her; it was his duty. But more importantly, he didn’t wish to see her in pain. Haru held her wrist and bit her lip in an attempt to hold back the tears that had formed in her eyes, but hadn’t fallen. “C’mere… let me get a look at it.”
His words were gentle, but still carried that sense of duty and urgency that made it clear why Haru harbored so much trust for him. She nodded, wincing just a little as she held her arm out. His touch was just as gentle as his words; for all that he seemed rough around the edges, he never seemed to let that carry through when it came to his touch. He poked and prodded gently, which she responded to with small hisses of pain.
“Looks like it’s just a sprain. We’ll have the doc look at it tomorrow, since he’s probably off-duty by now. Still…” Ryuji didn’t want to just leave her injury untended to. “Let’s sit for a sec.”
“Sit? But…” She spoke quietly, her gaze shifting to the space around them. The tree trunk was the only spot that could double as a seat, or else one of them would have to sit in the dirt and sand.
“I’ll give you a boost,” Ryuji took the thought in another direction. He motioned toward the stone wall that lined the path. Even if other civilians were walking along the road on the other side, they would blend in just fine. Plenty of people sat atop the walls to rest through the day—the only difference would be what side of the wall they came from, something hardly anyone was likely to notice.
Haru offered him a nod of trust in return, and within moments, with her good hand clasping her injured arm, Ryuji lifted her by the waist. He used all the strength his arms and legs could muster, especially at that angle, and with his overcompensation for his own weak leg, to set her atop the wall. After a moment, and with a deep breath, he hauled himself to the spot next to her on the wall. Haru held back the displays of pain, though a few whimpers managed to escape her throat as he settled himself in.
“It’s a bit of a walk back,” Ryuji pointed out—that and the later hour in the day, with twilight looming—meant he couldn’t just leave things be. He began to roll up the fabric of his pants until he could find the cloth wrapping that he’d used earlier to keep his leg secure. He continued to speak as he began to unwrap it. Though he knew he would put himself at risk that way, Haru’s well-being came first. “We gotta secure that thing so you don’t aggravate it.
“Ryu, your leg…” She was worried, and it wasn’t as if Ryuji didn’t know exactly why that was. She looked at him with that soft, concerned gaze, but all Ryuji did was shake his head.
“No biggie. I’ll be fine. Besides, that’s my job, y’know? Gimme your wrist again.”
He wasn’t going to take no for an answer; Ryuji was just as stubborn as Haru herself. As he tended to her arm, he held it steady. Ryuji wrapped the bandage with care—his expertise in doing so for himself lent well to their current predicament. “Just lemme know if it’s too tight.”
“No… it’s perfect, Ryu…” As Ryuji finished wrapping the injury, she used the hand now stabilizes to reach for his. She didn’t allow him to pull his hand back. Instead, she clasped it tightly, careful to not bend her wrist the wrong way. It still hurt, but the stabilized positioning kept her tears at bay. Instead, a soft and grateful smile tugged as the corners of her mouth. She scooted closer and rested her shoulder against Ryuji’s arm, cheeks flushed. His flushed in turn, before she even finished her thought. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, and for taking care of me.”
***
A short distance away from atop the wall sat another. He was quiet, observant. With little more than a pencil in hand and a sketchbook settle in his lap, he smiled at the sight of the future Governess and her retainer sharing a sweet, intimate moment.
“Yes… you are both truly… inspiring in every sense of the word.” He laughed quietly to himself; though he would not interrupt them now, there was little denying that they would soon prove to be precious muses to him. He turned the page of his sketchbook and began to draw—a moment like that was meant to be captured and never forgotten, after all.
A young retainer in training and the prince he will one day serve—without knowing what the future truly holds, they manage to share idyllic moments with sun-bathed cat naps, flower crowns and stolen kisses.
Training to be a retainer for the royal family was hardly anything glamorous; it was anything but, really. Day in and day out, the training was grueling. And Akira Kurusu, he who would one day inherit the title of King’s Retainer and serve the next heir to the throne, Crown Prince Minato Arisato, dealt with that daily training. Some days, that meant learning all of the proper etiquette befitting of a noble. Other days, it was learning every nook and cranny of the royal capital, Arisatia. Other days, it was stealth training, so he could move about and disarm others undetected. There were a great many secrets that were passed on through the Kurusu family over generations; techniques and pathways granted only to them in order to protect the royal family to the best of their ability. There was absolutely always something to learn, and it meant every day was a battle all its own.
On that day, in particular, Akira had been engaged with intense combat training. Armed with proper weaponry that he would use in the heat of battle, against his father—the current royal retainer—in a no holds barred battle. After nearly eight years of combat training, Akira’s skill and aptitude for battle had allowed for his father to never hold back when they fought. It was win or face injury because they had to live by the belief that in a true combat situation, no punches would be pulled. It taught Akira to be cunning and resourceful in a way that most were not at the age of fifteen. However, that also meant that after a successful training session, Akira was nothing short of completely worn out.
He had won his battles, but not without sustaining a few visible bruises and a pesky sprain of the wrist that felt more like an irritating obstacle to him than a true injury to be concerned about. Rather than retire to his room to clean up and get some rest, Akira found himself in the garden. It was always relaxing there; very few visited it despite the fact that it bloomed spectacular flowers of all varieties under the warmth of central Arisatia’s sunlight. It was never too warm, as the breeze that calmed from Garudyne’s winds always cooled the capital city. But more importantly than any of those facts was that there was one person who could usually be found there in the late afternoons—Minato.
200 follower Poll Winner (Art/Fic): Pegokita First Time
Title: Clandestine
Akira never got drunk.
It was a policy of his that he held tightly to; he could never allow himself to be incapacitated in a way that would keep him from carrying out his duty. If he were to get drunk, he wouldn’t be able to protect Minato properly.
But not getting drunk didn’t mean that he never drank at all. There were nights, nights like this particular one where it was necessary. Akira had left early in the day to chase a lead on a potential threat. Potential had turned into confirmation, and when his gloves were stained with the blood of those that threatened to take the life of the sun in his sky, he couldn’t just go back to the palace. Instead, on days like that, he awaited nightfall to sit in a quiet corner of Tavern Leblanc, where he could tug away at his bloodstained gloved and have a beer while his adrenaline evened out.
A beer or two. Maybe three. Enough to take the edge off, and then he would always sneak back to his room via the underground passageways. Minato was usually asleep by that point, but rather than risk disturbing him, it was far easier to use the Kurusu’s secret escape routes that he’d long since memorized to make his way back to his room. There, he’d be able to dispose of his gloves, wash away the blood—scrub at every skin and every scar until he could feel clean enough to not be a disgrace in front of Minato, and then sleep off the guilt that came with all he had done through the day.
But on this particular day, that wasn’t an option.
Akira squeezed himself through the tiny entrance that was stowed behind his dresser; as he pushed the heavy wooden furniture to one side to give himself room, he was met with a surprising sight. The room was dimly lit by candle, and at the very edge of his bed, sitting prim and proper, was Minato.
“My… lord?” Bemused, Akira froze in place. He wasn’t in any position to serve Minato right now, and if he was in the room at that hour… had he caused Minato to worry? Had he failed in his duty?
“...I couldn’t sleep.” Minato admitted softly, and Akira understood those implications. He’d had a nightmare, presumably about the past, and he’d wanted company. Akira always indulged him on those nights. Often, it meant holding Minato’s hand, or pulling him into an embrace to ensure his calm. But never had Minato come into his room, looking for him, waiting. “I didn’t realize you weren’t here. So I thought I’d wait.”
Akira’s breath hitched in his throat; there was a moment of hesitation that accompanied it. Guilt. Guilt for having not been there when he was supposed to serve Minato’s every need. Guilt, because he stood before Minato, slightly inebriated, scarred hands bare, blood staining his uniform and the gloves in his pocket. It was unsightly to present himself to the king this way.
“...My apologies. I’d have returned straight away had I realized you were in need. Allow me to clean up, and I’ll bring some tea to your quarters.”
Minato shook his head as he pushed himself to his feet. Akira made quick work to move the dresser back in place and obscure the passageway, but before he could finish, Minato reached out for Akira’s hand. Beneath his fingertips, he could feel the scars and markings. He was no fool; Minato knew how much blood was on those hands for his sake. He knew, too, that as much as Akira tried to remain unaffected, those acts hurt him. He was a kind person who had a duty that he was chained to. Akira was a prisoner of circumstance, and because of that, he had to go against his own morals for the sake of one person’s life.
“You worked hard today,” Those hands, they worked hard today. Minato knew as well that Akira had been drinking. He knew a night like this, he would be a little less rigid. It wasn’t fair to ask for Akira, but Minato could see through his mask, and his own was feeling a bit cracked after another horrific nightmare. “I can just stay here.”
It was a bold proposition, and one that had Akira’s eyes instantly widening at the prospect. “My lord, I can’t—”
...allow that, he wanted to say, but before he could, there was a warmth that washed over him. He was being silenced, and done so in a way that meant Minato’s lips were being pressed against his softly. It was hardly the first time Minato had kissed him. Every single time, Akira melted into it. When there were no eyes on them, it was the only time they could even consider being honest with themselves. So he always gave in for those fleeting moments.
“One night, Akira,” Minato spoke the words as softly as he ever spoke, though against his lips, Akira could feel the warmth of his breath. “What I want… is for you to let go. For one night…”
Minato paused, and while Akira was sure he knew what Minato was implying, he held his breath. He couldn’t turn down a request of his king.
And a request like that? He didn’t want to turn it down, either. They were nineteen and starved for affection. They were nineteen and a little broken. They were nineteen and they still had needs that they couldn’t act on whenever they felt the urge. Not when it was Minato, who was the center of his world, and the only one left in the in it that he had any love for. Yet still, he held his breath and waited to hear what it was he had to say.
“It’s dark in here,” Minato started, the non sequitur a bit strange to Akira’s ears, though he gave Minato another moment to collect his thoughts. “So I can’t see them. Your hands, I mean. I never see the things you do with them. I won’t see them now, either.”
The implication weighed heavy in the air. It was Minato acknowledging that Akira’s hands were bloodied and scared, but also that he didn't care. That even if they were covered in the blood of enemies, Minato still wanted Akira to touch him with them. And as if to punctuate that statement, Minato twined their fingers together on the hand he had grabbed. Akira’s heart raced in his chest—
And though he couldn’t bring himself to say the words that sat on his tongue, though he couldn’t bring himself to be honest with his words, he hummed out a quiet sound before speaking.
“As you wish, my lord.” Gentle. Akira spoke the words gently, and though they were formal and commonplace for him, Minato knew that there was compliance from Akira’s weary heart. That sentiment was solidified as Akira leaned down to punctuate his own statement with a kiss. His hands trembled under Minato’s touch; he was almost uncharacteristically nervous. His body was more honest than his words, and that endeared Minato as much as everything else Akira did.
It was kiss after kiss until they were breathless; it was gentle touches and warm hums. It was the heat in the air as fabric rustled, and the barest squeaks that came from Akira’s hardly-used mattress as Akira laid him on the bed. Each moment followed another as the heat rose. Kisses turned to gentle nips, innocent touches became decidedly less so. There were moments of fumbling, of nervousness and lack of experience. There was sweat beading at hairlines and hair matting against skin. There were the quiet questions of concern, and muffled sounds of pleasure. For all that it was sweet, it was illicit, it was desperate, it was bittersweet. Fingertips rolling over old scars that couldn’t be seen in the dim light, kisses that followed, and when the writhing pleasure subsided, they were left tired. For a moment, they were a little less broken, wrapped in each other and embracing a brief moment where rank and duty didn’t matter.
But the sun would rise again, and when it did, they would elect not to acknowledge the night. They would part before anyone noticed, and when Akira entered his quarters the next morning, it would be business as usual, for he had a duty to fulfill. He could never disgrace his king by having anyone know that he’d been defiled by the man sworn to protect him—though the ones closest to them could hardly miss the way the air had changed around them, or how their touches somehow lingered even longer than they did previously.
Minato Arisato, leader of the great Kingdom of Arisatia, spends his birthday alone every year. But just when he thinks the person most precious to him has forgotten once again, he gets just the present he's needed.
If there was one universal truth that Minato knew, it was that Akira never, ever took breaks.
Truly, it took being ill to the point of unconsciousness to keep him down; Minato had seen him work through just about every situation imaginable. Holidays, storms, threats of the unknown, illnesses—his retainer was both loyal to a fault, and nothing short of an absolute workhorse.
It was for this reason that Minato had known not to expect much when it came to his birthday.
He didn’t really mind it much, though. Despite being the king of a nation as large as Arisatia, they didn’t make a public showing of his birthday; the threats to Minato’s life were far too great, and the underlying tensions that existed within the kingdom made the climate poor for celebration. Minato, after all, had inherited the throne far too early, and despite how many years had passed since The Fall, he was still working to earn the respect of the people in many parts of the nation that had not prospered well under his father’s rule. It was more important to get work done—to read through paperwork, to sign documents, and to focus on his role as king than it was to have a grand celebration.
But of course, that also meant that Akira couldn’t spare a moment for something like a birthday. Somehow, he managed to always be busier than Minato, and with no plans for an outing, it was assured that Akira would only show his face before Minato if he was called upon or specifically had matters to attend to. Minato was unbothered, indifferent towards growing older. Growing older meant another year with regrets to pile on, and another year where he and Akira would grow further apart due to their roles and duties in the kingdom, after all.
It was far easier to be indifferent than to let the disappointment build and fester, after all.
He couldn’t really remember the last time he had put any importance on his birthday.
As the most respected retainer of the Arisato family, as one who bore one of the heaviest weights their nation had to offer, there was very little way for Akira Kurusu to put any sort of value on that day. Ten years ago, he had given up that right. When the kingdom nearly fell, when he and Minato were left to fend for themselves and their country, Akira had known something like his birthday was completely trivial. The only things that mattered now were keeping Minato safe, and keeping Arisatia’s land and people safe—and even then, only one of those things truly mattered to Akira. The nation could fall and Akira would have allowed it so long as it meant Minato was safe. His own life had been forfeit from the moment he stepped into his true role as retainer. Papesse 18 was no longer a day to celebrate, it was merely another day to fulfill his duties and try to achieve his goals.
Minato saw things very differently, however.
While Minato had hardly put much weight on his own birthday, similarly, to Akira, he felt that those days needed to hold value to others. And this was especially important for Akira. Though Minato never truly knew what hardships Akira had endured for the sake of his duty, he was well aware that taking on the role of the king’s retainer, an heir of the Kurusu family, meant bearing more than just the weight of the world on his shoulders. With each passing year, Minato could see the distance between them. Gone was the bright eyed, passionate boy who stood against injustice. Gone was a true fire or passion for anything but his job. The Akira Kurusu of their time was ultra-reserved; he hid the blood on his hands and had very little faith in anything but Minato himself.
Straylize: A continuation of the writing exercise I’ve been doing on Twitter—small scenario snippits that fit into the size of a Twitter post.
This batch is themed around small scenes in the Kirijo Region capital of Bufula! These are all canon scenarios that will likely be expanded upon and explored further in the future. Enjoy!
Akira & Minato:
"Take this, my lord. It will warm you." Neither of them were accustomed to the frigid Bufula air, but Akira draped his coat over Minato.
"Akira--"
"It's all right, I'm not cold," a lie was spoken to assuage his king's worries.
Akira & Minato II:
"It’s Bufula hot chocolate. It has cinnamon and chili peppers in it... it'll warm you up," Minato knew that Akira was frozen to his core after giving up his coat.
"My-"
"Just drink it, you're freezing," Minato asserted, firm but gentle.
Mitsuru & Akihiko:
Mitsuru handed him the fur-lined coat, offering little more than an amused smile.
Akihiko flustered immediately, "My lady, this--"
"You never did do well with the cold, Akihiko, even after all these years."
Kotone & Shinjiro:
"You never give up," Shinji grumbled, cheeks flushed as he averted his gaze from Kotone.
"Nope! But you know... you always give in!" She smiled brightly as she got up on her tip-toes to kiss him; instantly, he was warmed.
Shinjiro & Yusuke:
Yusuke shivered; he never got used to Bufula's cold. The sudden trip meant he wasn't dressed for the weather.
It was Shinjiro who made the first move, pulling Yusuke into his jacket to warm him. "Tch..."
The next day, Yusuke had a new coat.
Ryuji & Haru:
"You sure you're ok, Haru?" Ryuji's brows drew together, concerned the frigid Bufula air would be too much for her tropical tastes.
"I think it’s invigorating... but a dutiful man like yourself could come up with a way to keep warm, right?"
Ryuji & Yusuke:
"Shinjiro bought it for me," Yusuke flourished, showing off his new coat.
"It was probably Kotone, dude," Ryuji sighed, but smiled as he leaned against the other's shoulder, "Least someone takes care of you when you're in this icebox city, though."
