#but u know experimenting with narrative structure is fun. claps my hands.

[brightlilies-a]

fourfold flames.

   “there are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle, or the mirror that reflects it.”               - edith wharton.

                                                                --- --- ---

   the orange glow flickers as it waves across the faces and bodies that surround it. a perfect centerpiece, and yet no eyes linger upon it, each of the outside circle looking to the children dancing on the inside, and each dancer looking to each other, caught up in the rhythm. light music floats on the air, played on lyres and pan flutes and improvised drums and the susurrus of idle conversation. overhead, menphina watches over her children, and whispers soft words through the leaves, that they may somehow reach their ears.

   a pair of amber gazes rest upon the smallest of the troupe, watching every rise and fall of the red and white colored crown with solemn expressions. albi’a shifts slowly to face his mother, and, noting her intensity, turns back to the campfire. crackle, fizzle, snap.  

   “i want bibi ta grow up happy.” there were only a few things he agreed upon with his mother anymore, now that he was older. before, it was easier to ignore all the problems, how utterly dysfunctional their lives had become in exchange for some semblance of togetherness and tradition that would otherwise fall apart at a moment’s notice. but, when it came to the beaming, giggling child who was still enamored with this horrid, cruel world, the two of them could set aside their differences… to an extent.

   “and you think i don’t?” she scoffs, refusing to even glance his way.

   that’s just like her. his eyes roll up and down as he shifts to plant the palms of his hands on the ground behind him, taking a more leisurely approach. “i think ye know he won’t be happy here. kahli’s too tough on him.”

   “just because you hate it doesn’t mean he will.” narrowed eyes glare at her following that, with a click of his tongue announcing his more immediate distaste. they could just dismiss it all as simply tradition, when they weren’t the ones who dealt with the scorn and biting remarks night-in and night-out. heaving a sigh, though, he straightens his posture, and raises a lackadaisical palm——getting mad wouldn’t get him anywhere, and worse, it’d likely drag the kit still skipping about the fire over in a fretful fit.

   no, another tactic would be better for proving his point.

   “ye really think he’ll take ta bein’ a wanderer all by his lonesome, ma? he cries if we ask him ta jus’ watch camp by himself. he’s too soft.” 

   finally deigning to grace him with her attention, aged amber shifts to her left, countering him with a calm flick of her tail, “and do you really think that becoming an adventurer is better-suited for him if he’s so kind? it’s just as dangerous, if not more.”

   “i think he’ll take ta helpin’ people. he likes ‘em plenty,” proudly relaxing, his lips tug into a smirk, “even if he prolly shouldn’t.”

   the matron huffs, folding her arms against her breast, “that’s because he’s mimicking you!”

   “then i’ll just become an adventurer so he’ll mimic that, too—” his teasing is cut short by a giggling shadow casting itself over the pair with its large, red ears standing tall and attentive compared to the rest of his diminutive stature. blue and orange peek out from beneath messy white bangs, wide and wondering and filled to the brim with twinkling pride as the child hovers, swaying this way and that.

   “bi’a!! mama!! didja see me?” the innocent voice beckoning them pulls them away from the moment prior, as their gazes soften and the frustration melts away. his mother is the first between them to speak, earnestly reaching up to tug upon the child’s freckled cheeks while taking a saccharine tone.

   “—of course, my bibi boy! you were so cute, dancing like your sisters!” 

   yer lying, albi’a thinks to himself, because ye only saw as much as i did.

   “don’t encourage him, he’s a boy.” unable to get a word in before a cold, harsh voice called from the group of girls near the fire, albi’a’s expression sours at his sister, if only momentarily.

   “stop being mean ta him, sis! yer jus’ jealous he’s better ‘an you are!” albi’a retorts back, letting his shite-eating grin grow as large as it could.

   “—i’m not jealous of him!” their elder sister huffs and stomps, with her red braids lifting as she turns away from the scene. unlike the two elder keepers willing to leave things at that, however, albi’to’s lips tug into a frown. a moment later, his red moccasins hit the ground, and soon after he takes his sister’s arm into his hold, quite stubbornly refusing to let go amid her attempts to wave him off.

   “i’ll teach ye, matar! it must be really hard ta move well, since ye have yer nose in books all day!”

   “get off me! your steps are clumsier than mine are!”

   looking to his mother’s face, albi’a finds himself staring at the lines, the cuts that didn’t heal right, the melancholy her expression always seemed to bear. he’d known, always, why bi’to was the favorite child——even if she tried to say there were no favorites. it came easier to like him. he wasn’t damaged; he hadn’t watched his father die. he and matar, on the other hand, grew up before their tenth namedays, while bi’to was still a child that saw the world in kinder lights than they. and what a treasure it was, what a thing to want to protect. how unrealistic; how horrible it would be for him later.

   “i don’t want him to be an adventurer, bi’a.” she speaks suddenly and he flinches, slack-jawed and blank of mind. he takes a moment, and newly recomposed, calmly retorts back,

   “yer fine with me wantin’ ta be one.”

   but she expects this, red crown shaking back and forth slowly. even as she takes her loose braid into her hands, laying it to rest over her shoulder and running her fingers over the flow of her hair, however, her eyes refuse to leave the child now tugging his elder sister around, speaking in excitable gibberish that would only make sense to he and his, “because it suits you. you’ve always wanted more than this life, but he… all that bibi wants is this. laughter and smiles and togetherness.”

   “it’ll get taken away from him when he’s an adult.”

   “maybe things will be different by then.”

   is that how it is? pray it changes fer his sake? the young man sighs, running a hand through his patches of red and white hair, tousling it for good measure. what a nice dream that would be, if it could be true. “hundreds a years o’ traditions won’t change in a few moons, ma.”

                                                                 --- --- ---

   after horrible things happen, the land grows quiet, as if also in mourning.

   holding his own makeshift skewer over the flame, albi’to watches the silhouette of the rat they’d found some malms back turn over and over, its lanky, skinned body little more than a weird tumor upon the branch. it wasn’t much by comparison. the twins had received dodo fledglings that hadn’t escaped the initial blaze for their help in the scavenging, pahje was happily licking her lips as she turned over her round of piglet, which had been otherwise split between kahli, his sister and his mother. and meanwhile, despite being the one who had found the piglet squealing in a bush and had put it out of its misery, he sat, staring at a rat.

   there wasn’t much meat on rodents, and even less given how much of it was taken by the fire that had killed it. but kahli’s decisions were final, and so the burdens were given the smallest amount. that was what she had started calling him since the lesser moon fell: a burden. he didn’t give it much thought——thinking about things was how one got upset about them, and it wouldn’t change anything even if he did. nobody talked back to kahli. kahli was the one who led the tribe. kahli’s decisions were final.

   even so, the crackle of the fire was one of the few sounds he could properly make out against the oppressive silence. occasionally, something would snap! or combust a little too quickly, a little too loudly, with such a suddenness against the pall of death that it startled the whole of their group, and it would take some few minutes before they all calmly sat once more. the earth was still; the smoke was somewhere to the north now; nobody, no animals, nothing passed them by this night. how strange, he muses silently as his gaze drifts upward, past the branches and leaves to the starry sky above, to see the night again, when just a few nights ago that unending crimson from the lover’s hound was all they knew.

   “we should celebrate,” he breaks the silence, raising his gaze from his poor excuse for a meal and the dancing flame to the people that encircled it, “since we’re alive.”

   he’s met with an uneasy silence and six pairs of eyes boring into his face, some losing interest quicker than others. after a few seconds, most of them had returned to their anxiety and disquieted thoughts, but a warm, gentle voice humors him quietly, “celebrate how, bibi?”

   his mother shifts, standing and shuffling to sit beside him with her pork skewer in hand. her shoulder nudges his in that encouraging way, as her crown dips to catch his gaze——as if he were only a few summers old and hiding secrets too big to hold. she continues to nudge and prod, with her elbow and the back of her hand and a few more times with her shoulder until his lips tug into a smile and he laughs. batting her away softly, he shakes his head, catching the bit of courage he had before it would fly away, like an ember up into the sky, and exhales.

   “we could…” cheeks bubble as his voice trails——he hadn’t thought that far. so he simmers in contemplation, focusing his attention on the firepit as he stomps in place, waiting for inspiration to come. what could they do, after all, with no food and only a fire? just a fire… but all they needed was a flame! “dance around the fire an’ send our thanks ta menphina fer protectin’ us! it’d be like old—”

   “as soon as we finish eating, we sleep.” opposite him, the silver haired chieftain stares him down, sharpened gold unwilling to budge. her voice, cold, dry, hollow, brings back the silence in an instant, and a chill runs back up his spine.

   “but—” the word has left before he realizes, but even that is cut short.

   “we will sleep through the night as most stragglers will pass through the day. if they find us, they’ll steal what we have and kill us for scavengers.” kahli succinctly lifts her skewer from the flame, blowing at the steaming meat as she gestures to the girl beside her with a nod, “pahje will take the first watch.”

   she wasn’t incorrect. few of the remaining survivors in the wood would travel by night, given the complexities of the paths prior to the devastation, and among them would be scavengers and bandits more than willing to take up the opportunity for easy pickings. but her honesty pulls his lips taut and sets a weight on his chest. pahje, however, the spitting image of her mother, looked more akin to a giggling jackal as she watched him through the fire——probably some secret between them, as there always was.

   “i can help her with that—” albi offers in spite of whatever had his tribal sister in stitches, but finds the pattern follows true. speaking only led to being silenced; male keepers were to be neither seen nor heard.

   “we don’t need a burden keeping watch.”

   a moment passes, and his mother’s hand lands comfortingly upon his own, fingers squeezing his. spitefully, though, the boy lifts his rat skewer to his lips, digging fang and teeth into the scalding hot flesh before ripping away. it hurt, it burned, it was way too hot going down and brought tears to his eyes as the pain sank in, but it’d stay his tongue. and that was all he needed.

   “kahli, you’re being too harsh—” with a sigh, his mother shakes her head in earnest defeat. she pauses, however, and after wrapping an arm about her son’s shoulder, squeezes him snugly against her side. “... you can sleep near me tonight, okay? i’ll feel better having you within reach, just in case.”

                                                                   --- --- ---

   there was no chimney in the renovated storehouse they called their home. in the middle of winter, the pair of keepers were wont to carve out a section of the floor, marked with gathered stones, and built small campfires to heat the cold air that now blew in from coerthas to the north. during those months, mother and son slept in the same bed in the room with the fire, buried under layers of ratty blankets, listening to the embers as they burned themselves out. tonight, though, the matron sits up, running her fingers through her slumbering child’s red locks, smiling wryly in the dark.

   “you’re not happy here, are you?” her hand comes to a slow, expression tightening as she shakes her head, “you’d lie, though. some awful lie with that sad smile he taught you.”

   the light from the fire flickers dimly, the small flame’s shadow dancing proudly upon the wall. outside the window, she catches the sound of strong winds blustering against the cabin walls, and instinctively reaches to pull one of the blankets more snugly over him, “you know… if we were still out there, we wouldn’t be together anymore. i’d still be with your sister and kahli and…” she pauses, flattening her lips, “you’d be… somewhere.”

   somewhere in the twelveswood, by himself, hunting game purely for company that would never want him for more than a few bells, never truly. perhaps they’d cross paths once if menphina blessed them, under the guise of scavenging in the same lands or chasing the same prey, but he’d never be able to stay. they’d say their hello’s, he’d lie horrible fibs to be pleasant, believing it wouldn’t worry her, and he’d disappear into the shade of night. was she so horrible, then, for thinking dalamud’s fall a blessing in disguise? so many people lost things, they lost things, but the young man clinging to his own tail was given a chance at finding joy in a life otherwise set up to disappoint him.

   “your brother was right, you know? you would never be happy with that life.” beginning to pry his fingers from the fabric of his tunic, the woman sighs, “maybe i’ve been holding onto you too tightly, though… people have a tendency to leave me, after all. your father, your brother… then your sister.”

   after tugging his arms apart and batting away the long-haired tail eating up needed space on this rather small, stained and torn mattress, she looks to his face, still calm, still asleep. how he ever slept so soundly was a miracle of its own, but it was a relief for nights like these. “you’re all i have left. my bibi, my precious bibi boy.” the three words that pull her lips into a delighted smile every time without fail, yet such elation quickly fades, “but i have to let you go now, don’t i? i knew one day i’d have to, but i didn’t think i’d have to give you a push to make you leave the nest, so it’s not that easy…”

   jumping as he shifts where he lays, she stifles the gasp that rises in her throat, exhaling a moment later when he settles again with a curse. twelve forfend, if he’s been listening...

   “give me a heart attack and i’ll leave you faster than you’ll leave me…!” with a scoff, the matron lowers herself into her spot and pulls the blankets over herself. she turns away to look at the fire, to watch the amber glow that reminded her of that life long gone, of shadows dancing around a fire, calling at her to watch them, to watch him. “he was wrong, though. all it took was a single moon, and everything’s different.”

                                                                   --- --- ---

   there’s something horrible about fire, albi’to thinks, when it rains from the sky. each rumble of the ground beneath them has him hesitate, has him second-guess when and where he is, because the smell of smoke and burning and panic and death never changes. the tightness in his chest from knowing a molten rock might come crashing down and steal him away to the lifestream never changes.

   it wasn’t intentional, because that would mean emet-selch cared enough to look into a shard of a person’s past, but damn did it cut deeply. that the glamour of the ascian’s most painful memory was so reminiscent of the seventh umbral calamity was a haunting, harrowing, horrible experience to both live and relive. it stole away his breath at times, forcing him to clutch his chest when his memory of the calamity bled over emet-selch’s, and he always brushed the looks that came his way off with unconvincing lies the scions wouldn’t press. the meteors that landed closer were the worst, the heat affronting him in gusts before the shards flew past, both real and unreal, painful and not. as they darted through the falling city, his gaze would occasionally linger on the faces and backs of his comrades, wondering if they felt the same.

   if they did, it likely wasn’t all that similar.

   none of them spoke of where they were when the lesser moon fell and the dreadwyrm rose. not many in eorzea did. mentions of the calamity came up every now and then, especially near the rising, but there was no pride in being a survivor to that nightmare. there was no winning in what happened that day, only loss.

   but it was a gut feeling of his that while he braved the land only malms from where one of dalamud’s fragments fell into the earth and set the land ablaze, that his companions in the scions watched the world irrevocably change from within walled venues. there was no shame in such, but it was a different experience. even among his friends, there were some chosen few he could think of that would’ve, based on the stories they exchanged, bore witness to the red sky from within eorzea.

   they were all experiencing walking through this hellscape, however. even if they felt no attachment to the simulacra running about, falling over, breaking apart, the carnage was real. the threat of death and the sight of loss was real. like an echo vision, specially tailored for those without the elder primal’s blessing.

   he brushes the soot off his arms, eyeing the portal of aether on the far side of the makeshift arena carefully. a dark, swirling vortex that was, like everything else in this liminal space, made for them to follow, made to guide them to the ascian himself. deeming themselves okay to proceed, the keeper’s ears twitch as their footfalls echo off the floor, and instinctively, he reaches out… and grabs nothing.

   “hold up,” pulling his closed fist back, he pauses, mulling over if he should speak——but he already had, so he might as well finish the thought, “we dunno what awaits us on the other side of that, so lemme say something.”

   silver-tongued words meet him just as quickly, and the teasing in thancred’s tone was only matched by the humored smile gracing his features. “i find it rather cliché to give a parting speech before what may be the final battle. friend.”

   “heh, maybe, but it ain’t a good-bye.” it was hard not to laugh as he shrugged, albeit airy and hoarse with all the soot and dust permeating the space, “... it’s a thank you.”

   “that might just be worse!”

   “then it’s worse, and i’m sayin’ it anyway.” a wag of his finger manages to quiet the hyur from any further complaints (a trick he’d picked up from her), and he tugs his lips into a gracious grin, looking to each of the scions softly, “thank ye, though, fer bein’ here fer me. i know minfilia was the one that wanted the scions ta be like family fer me, an’ she prolly said that ta any green recruit she got, but i really think of ye all that way. you, too, ryne.”

   pressing the tips of his fingers against his collarbone as he pauses to gather his thoughts, his chin dips, crown shaking subtly back and forth, “honestly, i didn’t think i’d get a family again after the calamity, but then, ‘fore i knew it, i did. the twelve blessed me with all o’ ye, so no matter what happens, i’ll always have yer backs, because ye guys have mine.”

   what greets him as he lifts his head, however, is a round of silence, as the group looks to one another with unreadable expressions. after a few seconds, all attention returns to face him, as if expecting something more——he hadn’t said anything wrong, had he? beginning to fear the worst, albi hurriedly goes back over his words in his head, trying to find the—

   “done yet?” alisaie chimes, smirking proudly.

   “h-huh?”

   urianger nods, continuing the charade, “tis no secret how highly you think of us.”

   “guys, come on…!” taken aback, the dancer’s expression widens with embarrassment, pink staining his freckled cheeks.

   “not that it isn’t pleasant to hear you say it every now and again.” y’shtola’s arms fold before her, humored visage tilting just for emphasis.

   in a last ditch effort for someone to not tease him so harshly, odd eyes plead with the elezen twin that’s so often stood at his side, that’s been characteristically quiet this entire time, “a-alphy, back me up…!”

   but given the smile playing upon his face, even alphinaud was caught up in the chance to catch the warrior of light off-guard, as he so pridefully chides, “personally, i could do with you mentioning it a little less.”

   even as his flustered face burns amid their amused giggling, however, albi cracks a smile and shakes his head. looking out at them, the group of scholars all brought together by a common cause that had welcomed him into their fold that day in thanalan, fills him with a comforting peace, a friendly reminder that all would be well, that all was how it should be. even if what awaited him on the other side was certain death, they had each other to defy the odds and face that future together with. and for now, they needed him to play his part, and so he would. 

   mustering the lingering hint of frustration before it might float away on the breeze, albi brushes past the group and jogs toward aetherial tear, calling out behind him, “f-fine! let’s move on then, if’n me sayin’ all that was really unnecessary…”

   the last thing he heard, though, before the flow pulled him in, was ryne’s concerned voice chasing after him, “aw, albi… i thought it was nice anyway…!”

[phr0gie]

𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓢𝓮𝓲𝓳𝓸𝓱 

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1: 𝓡𝓮𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓪𝓼

“you’re my number one, you’re the one i want. and i’ve turned down every hand that has beckoned me to come.” - geyser, mitski

✯ synopsis: red gardenias are the symbol of secret love. y/n has been a cook for prince tooru and the rest of the oikawa family for their entire life. despite residing in the same castle, the two had never met. they lived in different worlds, so close yet so far apart. however, these worlds collide one night when prince tooru sneaks down to the kitchen for a midnight snack.

✯ note: this is it guys!! my first real post on this account!! i’m still exploring with my overall writing style and structure so please bear with me on that. remember, constructive criticism is welcome as long as you’re respectful about it! thank you so much to everyone who’s been patient in waiting for this series to come out, and h u g e thank you to my beta reader @ramunesuna​ !!! :)

✯ pairing: prince! oikawa x cook! reader

✯ tw: slight classism, minor character death mention, strong language, unresolved angst but in a romantic way you know, angsty prince oikawa hehe, kuroo makes a brief appearance lmao

✯ wc: 9k (oof)

✯ series masterlist | main masterlist

Ever since Y/n L/n was a young child, they had always been taught one extremely important lesson. There were two worlds; one full of luxury and opportunity, and another full of hardwork and perseverance. Y/n just so happened to be born into the latter, a servant of the royal Oikawa family. Their father, the head chef of the castle, had drilled this narrative into their head. “You must remember”, he would say. “In this life, to survive in our world we must work to appease those above us. It is our safest option. Their world is too far away from ours, they will forget we’re here. It is up to us to remind them.” And at that moment, Y/n believed this was true. Above them, they heard loud laughter and music from what had to be the royal family’s fifth ball this month. And, with their fingers growing wrinkly in the sink from scrubbing dishes, Y/n truly did feel as though they were in two different worlds. So close yet so far, only a story away.

A swarm of servants flooding into the kitchen had shaken them from their thoughts. Smells of wine and cake along with the sounds of sighs of relief and complaints of aching bones had immediately filled Y/n’s senses. Frantically their eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar figure amongst the crowd. Finally, they saw their target, an older man dressed in a white coat with a long white hat. They locked eyes and the old man relaxed immediately. He smiled warmly at them and they returned it almost instantly. 

“Ah, Y/n”, he said affectionately as he approached the young cook. 

“You look exhausted, Father”, Y/n chuckled. “Are the guests especially rowdy this evening?” 

Their father shook his head and let out a tired laugh. 

“That’s one way to put it, it’s truly remarkable how rambunctious some individuals get after a few sips of wine. Especially His Majesty”, he remarked. “After his second goblet I was afraid he was about to offer me a new position in the main house!” 

Y/n let out a loud laugh at this. The King was known to be generous with his power, however, once it was clear that he was having fun he became a bit too generous with it. After a few more chuckles Y/n let out a sigh. 

“I wish I could have been there to see it”, they muttered.

Their father let out his own sigh. “I know you do”, he said carefully, “but, I do not want to expose you to the stresses of working closely with the royal family too early. That simply would not be fair to you.” 

Y/n rolled their eyes, but still nodded in understanding. While they knew how cruel some noblemen could be to the lower-class, they still found it irritating that this would keep them from progressing with their duties; especially considering Y/n was to take their fathers place as head chef one day. 

“Besides” he added, “your time will come soon enough. After all, I am old and withered; I will not be around forever.” 

Y/n gasped at this. “Father!”, they yelled, hitting him lightly on the arm. “Do not say such things!” 

He merely chuckled at their reaction and pointed to a grand wooden clock that stood in the corner of the kitchen. 

“The clock strikes midnight” he yawned, “and we must be up early to prepare breakfast for His Royal Highness. Off to bed!”

 He then clapped, as if to emphasize his point, and walked toward the servants quarters. Y/n simply let out a light chuckle and followed him, trying to busy their mind with tomorrow’s meal preparations instead of thinking about the separate reality above them. 

On the other side of the castle, the Oikawa family ball had been coming to a close. His majesty’s coronation was but only two months away and, by tradition of the Oikawa family, a ball was to take place once every week before the occasion. Various Royalty and Noblemen had traveled far and wide for this night, decorated in the finest of silks and clothes, just to step into the family’s golden ballroom and catch a glimpse of the King's son, Prince Tooru Oikawa. You see, his majesty had created quite a name for himself. Throughout the land, he was known for his strategic mind and charming personality. He could dazzle any room he walked into and handle political matters with elegance and ease. This reputation caused his people to put him on a pedestal, genuinely believing that he would be the greatest ruler the kingdom had ever seen; leading them to create a nickname for the heir, “The Great King Tooru”. Yes, everyone was quite ecstatic for the heir to finally claim the throne, well that is, everyone but Prince Tooru. While he was an excellent strategist and an amazing speaker, there was something about the Prince that his subjects did not know. Prince Tooru had never had any experience outside of the palace walls. He had little to no idea how his people lived, what their biggest struggles were, what they thought could be improved upon within the kingdom. Hell, he had never even met his own staff! While charming and clever, his highness was nothing short of a perfectionist. He was dangerously ambitious and constantly craved improvement. So, whilst at his celebrations, he would present his confident, collected, charming self to the public, however, once the palace doors shut Tooru’s anxieties and worries would run rampant.

As the last of the guests exited the golden ballroom, Tooru’s honey smile melted into a bitter frown and his eyes were fixed on the door. His coronation was a double edged-sword hanging above his throne and he was Damocles awaiting his demise. The King noticed this and swiftly approached his son, patting a few times on the back. 

“Well,” He started, a soft, cheery tone in his voice. “It seems as though the guests had a magnificent time.” 

The Prince’s gaze stayed stuck to the door. “I want to stay the night in the village.” Tooru stated quietly, as if he were afraid the guests would still be able to hear. 

The King let out a long sigh and wandered away from his son a bit. “Tooru, we have discussed this matter before-” 

“How am I supposed to properly rule a kingdom I know nothing about?” He interrupted, finally turning his burning gaze towards his father.

“It is unfair not only to me, but to our people. They are expecting a ‘Great King’, but you are preventing me from becoming that for them!” 

The King simply put his head in his hands, clearly not wanting to discuss this any further. 

“Tooru, you simply do not understand.” 

“What?!” Tooru challenged. “What do I not understand?” 

“Enough!” The King shouted, rage and frustration clear in his tone. “You know exactly why you are not to leave the palace. It is not safe for you out there! I made that mistake once with your mother and I will not make it with you.” 

The King’s voice rang throughout the grand, golden walls of the main hall and the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Tooru was taken aback by his father’s statement. When The Prince was very young his mother, the Queen, had been killed whilst she was on a stroll at the marketplace one day. Back then, it was normal for the royal family to visit their kingdom. However, it was apparent that the King, as well-liked as he was, still had some enemies. Apparently they had decided to express their distaste for him by murdering the one he loved most. The incident was sudden and unexpected, because of this the King was hit extremely hard by the loss. That day he swore that the royal family was forbidden from exiting the castle. The rule was only lifted when The King himself absolutely had to leave.

“Father,” He started, his tone calmer than before. “I understand your hesitation, but that was a long time ago-” 

“I said ‘enough’, Tooru. There is no hesitation, my decision is final.” The King then made his way up the castle’s grand staircase and towards his room, not wishing to continue the conversation any further. 

Prince Tooru stood in silence as he watched his father retreat. 

“Shit.” He menatlly cursed. 

Prince Tooru turned around and threw his fist against the palace door in anger. All his frustration seemed to bubble to the surface as he glared at the carved oak. Cursing once again he closed his eyes and rested his head against the door. 

“I must meet my people’s expectations of me, but how?” 

All of the sudden, a loud grumble ripped Tooru from his thoughts. He opened his eyes and placed his hands on his stomach. Tooru began to recall the fact that he had not eaten much at the celebration, what with all the mingling he had to do there was just no time. Normally, the prince would have just gone to his room and rang for a meal like he always had. However, this time Tooru decided against it. Maybe it was the angst he was feeling ordering him to act out, or maybe it was the fact that he had reached his limit with social interaction and did not want to have to deal with possibly having to be speaking with someone. Whatever the reason, Tooru felt compelled to venture to the kitchen on his own tonight. So, pushing his frustrations to the back of his mind, Tooru made his way to the main kitchen, blissfully unaware of the young cook still awake in their chambers. 

Y/n could not sleep. They tossed, they turned, they even took a walk around the servants hall! Yet nothing seemed to aid them. They came to the conclusion that their mind would simply not leave them to rest. Sitting up on their bed, Y/n looked out the small window across the room. Over the course of a few hours, Y/n’s thoughts had still not left the idea of the world above them and its inhabitants. Being eighteen-years-old, they were the youngest of all of the chefs and servants; meaning that they were the only one who had never been around the rest of the castle. 

“Oh no Y/n, you mustn’t!”, they would exclaim. “It would not be fair to subject you to such stress, you must wait until you are able to overtake your father!” 

Y/n rolled her eyes thinking about this. They tried to understand where the people around them were coming from, they really did. However, the idea of being stuck in the kitchen was incredibly frustrating to them. 

“What a load of horseshit”, they thought. “How am I supposed to be an adequate cook if I do not even know who I am serving!” 

A loud CLANG suddenly ripped Y/n from their thoughts. Alarmed they jumped and looked around their room. Quickly Y/n bolted from their bed and made their way towards the door. Slowly they peeked out into the servants hall. It was still as can be, no doors open and there was no sign of anyone else being awake. Suddenly a loud BANG followed by a male voice cursing “shit!” came from the kitchen. 

“A thief!” Y/n concluded. 

They looked around for someone to emerge from their chambers to stop the intruder, but, unfortunately, it seemed that everyone was still fast asleep. Y/n had a decision to make; either go back to bed and risk the kitchen getting ransacked, or go stop the intruder and risk getting hurt. Sucking in a breath, Y/n carefully, as to not alert anyone of her presence, tiptoed out into the hallway and shut the door behind them. They grabbed a lit candlestick mounted on the wall and took one last look around. Quickly, yet quietly, they made their way from the servent’s quarters to the main kitchen’s entrance. Once they arrived, Y/n put their ear against the kitchen’s giant wooden door and listened for their target. Meanwhile, on the other side, Prince Tooru was searching the kitchen cabinets for a fresh loaf of bread he knew the head chef had just made that morning. However, being that it was so late, his majesty could hardly see a thing. Still he blindly searched, hoping to find the soft, sweet substance. His haste led to him bumping into a brass plate wrack, knocking over a row of porcelain plates. Y/n’s eyes widened at the sound of this and decided that now was the time to make their move. Quickly they flung open the large kitchen door. 

“Stop, thief!”, they yelled, charging into the room. 

However, what they saw was not at all what they were expecting. There, in all his glory, was a tall, young man hunched over the porcelain plates, attempting to clean up his mess. He wore an elegant silk tunic with matching white pants and a turquoise vest with elegant gold stitching swirled across the front. However, Y/n could care less about the man's attire. For they could not tear their eyes away from the crown atop his head. Golden with topaz and turquoise gems, the kingdom’s signature color and stones. The Prince felt a bit uneasy under the young servant's gaze however, he tried his best not to show it. Instead, he flashed them his signature, charming smile. 

“I am awfully sorry”, Tooru started, calmly and elegantly moving away from the broken plates. “It was not my intention to make such a mess, or to frighten you so. I was simply searching for a loaf of that delicious bread that was served this morning.” 

His words broke Y/n from their trance, as they finally realized exactly who they were speaking to. 

“Your Majesty!”, they exclaimed, knees quickly bending, hitting the floor to bow in reverence before him with their candle still in hand.

 It was a bit awkward, but what were they supposed to do? They had never been in the presence of royalty before! Tooru looked at the servant incredulously and suppressed a chuckle. 

“Your Majesty?” he questioned, amusement dancing in his tone as he approached them. “I am afraid you have mistaken me with my father, my name is Prince Tooru.”

 Y/n’s eyes widened and they gasped. “Of course” they thought bitterly, “Your first meeting with the man you’ll be working for and you soil it.” 

The young cook hung their head low, embarrassed and ashamed of their mistake but also afraid. Y/n had heard stories about servants who were killed for addressing their hosts incorrectly. What was he going to do to them?  

“Your Highness,” they started, their voice shaking slightly. “I give you my sincerest apologies. I assure this mistake will not be repeated.” 

This time, the Prince could not control his amusement. A sea of genuine laughter came tumbling from his mouth and Y/n could not help but be entranced by it. His laugh was smooth and warm, just like the cups of rich hot chocolate the kitchen had  prepared many times for the winter season. Snapping out of their thoughts, Y/n looked up at the laughing heir, confused. 

“Are you not angered?” they quietly asked. 

When the Prince kept laughing, the cook started to get frustrated. They were already embarrassed and now he was making it worse!  

“Are you mocking me?” they challenged, albeit against their better judgement.

Tooru simply shook his head and wiped a stray tear from his eye. 

“No no,” he started, letting out another low chuckle. “My apologies, It was not my intention to poke fun at you like this.” he assured. “I suppose I still have to get accustomed to being spoken to in such a formal way.” 

This confused Y/n. He was the Prince? Did not everyone speak to him this way? Noticing the young cooks' confusion, Tooru smiled and offered them a hand. 

“Here.” 

Hesitantly, Y/n accepted his offer and allowed themselves to be pulled up by the Prince’s strength, blushing a bit despite themselves at the feeling of his hand in theirs. After helping the young servant off the ground, Tooru turned back to the broken china and began to kneel down to pick up the pieces. 

“Oh!” Y/n exclaimed, quickly falling next to him, “Your Highness please, allow me!” 

The Prince chuckled again and shook his head. “No no,” he said, lightly pushing the servant away from the mess. “It is my mess, allow me to take care of it. Besides, it would be incredibly unfortunate if you were to get hurt due to my foolishness.” 

The young cook stubbornly stayed in place. This was their job after all, if they were incapable of completing one simple task then what use did they have? 

 “Well,” they replied quietly, a hint of annoyance in their tone. “At least allow me to assist you.” 

Not giving him a chance to answer, they quickly knelt across from Prince Tooru, sat their large candle next to them, and began to pick up the glass shards. Tooru exhaled and shook his head at this yet he did not stop them, assuming they already had their mind made up. Together, the Prince and the cook picked up the porcelain pieces in silence with a strange tension hanging in the air that neither of them could quite place. After a few moments, when the glass pieces were almost all cleaned, Tooru picked up a particularly rigid piece of glass and pricked his finger. 

“Shit” he cursed quietly, but not quietly enough to go unnoticed by the servant sitting across from him. 

Y/n merely scoffed and shook their head. “And you were worried about me injuring myself” they teased. 

The Prince was about to retort, but the crimson liquid seeping from his index finger caught him off guard. Glancing at his wound, the cook set down their glass pieces and began to stand up. 

“Wait here”, they instructed before quickly grabbing their candle and disappearing from the kitchen. 

Tooru complied and stayed sat in the dark on the wooden floor, cradling his wound and occasionally blowing on it to relieve some of the sting. After about two minutes, the large oak door opened and Y/n popped their head in to make sure the Prince was still there. Upon seeing him, they quickly made their way over and sat down next to him. Tooru noticed a thick white roll of cloth in one hand and a bottle of alcohol in the other. 

“Let me see”, Y/n whispered. Their tone was softer than before, more careful and concerned. 

He complied almost immediately, placing his palm to the ceiling so his cut would be on display. The young cook took his hand gently and inspected his wound closely. Meanwhile, Tooru gazed at Y/n and began to study them. This was his first time seeing them so close and the sight made his heart skip a beat. Their (e/c) eyes shined brighter than any gemstone in the candle light, their (s/c) complexion seemed to rival any deity’s, and the feeling of their hand, gently holding his, was softer than any silk that would ever touch his body. Prince Tooru Oikawa had charmed and dazzled dozens of fair maidens and bachelors across the kingdom, however, none of them had ever left them quite as enchanted as the cook sitting right across from him did.

“Fortunately,” Y/n started, breaking the Prince from his trance. “Your wound is not deep and there do not appear to be any shards stuck in the cut.”

The young servant briefly let go of him and Tooru found himself missing their touch. Y/n took the bottle of alcohol and poured some onto a piece of the white cloth, making sure they did not spill a drop onto the floor. Then, carefully, they took the Prince’s index finger and hovered the towel above the cut. 

“This may burn a bit” they softly warned, waiting for Tooru to acknowledge their words. 

Once he nodded in understanding, the cook gently brought the soaked cloth down onto the Prince’s wound. Tooru grunted at the stinging feeling and Y/n looked up at him sympathetically.

“My apologies, Your Highness” they whispered, stroking his arm softly as an attempt to calm him. “It will be over soon.”

Tooru blushed at the gesture and looked away, trying to regain his composure. After a beat of silence, the young servant lifted the cloth from the Prince���s finger and sent him a reassuring smile. In a flash, they grabbed the rest of the white cloth and began to wrap it around Tooru’s finger. The contrast of the burning sting the alcohol left and the coolness of the soft cloth made the Prince visibly relax. Smiling at this, Y/n finished winding the cloth.

“There,” they said, holding his hand up so he could see their handiwork, “it should be better by morning.”

As Tooru brought his hand in to admire the make-shift bandage, Y/n quickly gathered the rest of the glass pieces. Standing up, the young servant began to quickly dispose of the glass.  

“You know,” they said, wiping their hands on their night shirt. “The next time you feel peckish in the middle of the night, you need only ring for a servant. There is really no need to travel all the way down here.”

Tooru smiled at this. “I suppose you are correct,” he replied as he regained his teasing façade. “However, the upper level of the castle gets so boring when you have lived there for nineteen years.” 

The Prince stood up and began to approach the cook. 

“Besides,” he continued, a large smirk on his face, “if I hadn't come I would never have gotten the absolute pleasure of meeting you.” 

He then grabbed their hand and left a feather-light kiss on the knuckle. Y/n attempted to fight the blush and smile creeping on their face.  

“Your recklessness will get you in trouble one day, Your Highness” they replied. 

Tooru simply smiled and shrugged. Suddenly the grand, kitchen clock chimed, signaling that an hour had passed. 

“The night grows short…” Y/n mumbled. 

The Prince’s smile dropped, yet he nodded understandingly. “I suppose I should be going then..” he trailed off. 

The cook nodded and watched him turn around to exit the kitchen. “Your Highness, wait!” they suddenly shouted. Tooru turned around, startled by their outburst. 

“If you come back tomorrow night, I will be sure to save you some of that bread.”

 Prince Tooru smiled brightly at this and bowed to them. “Until tomorrow then, my dear…” the Prince trailed off. A panic set in him once he realized he forgot to ask for their name. Noticing this, the young cook stifled a laugh. 

“Y/n.” 

Tooru flashed them an embarrassed smile. “Right,” he coughed, trying to regain his composure for the second time that night. “Until tomorrow, my dear Y/n.” 

With that, the two parted ways. Prince Tooru left the castle’s kitchen that night with an empty stomach; however, he did not mind, in fact, he barely noticed it due to the overwhelming fullness of his heart. 

Thus began Y/n and Tooru’s nightly routine. Every night at the stroke of midnight, Prince Tooru would sneak downstairs to the kitchen where Y/n would be waiting for him with fresh bread and warm tea. There they would do nothing but talk and share secrets they never thought they would. Y/n would tell him about their life. How they grew up, how they’ve never been inside the upper parts of the castle despite living there for so long, how they long to see how the other side lives. And, in turn, Tooru would tell them about his life. How his father ran the kingdom, how he was nervous to be as good a ruler as his father, how he wished to see beyond the castle to ensure that he could be a good enough ruler for his people. Tooru considered Y/n to be his closest ally and Y/n considered him to be theirs. However, there was always an underlying tension between them that neither of them had addressed, a boundary that had yet to be crossed. It was a feeling clear as day, yet neither of them could place what exactly this feeling was. So, through a fear of ruining their perfectly good companionship, both Y/n and Tooru kept this feeling to themselves, bottled up like a secret. These meetings continued normally for about a month until one day, the Prince came up with a plan. 

It was a warm day in the beginning of June. The clock had just struck midnight and Prince Tooru was on his way to the main kitchen, as always. With a skip in his step he opened the large oak doors and saw Y/n pulling a fresh loaf of bread out of the wooden oven. 

“You seem quite happy today, Your Highness,” they said, noticing his joyful demeanor, “did something good happen today?” 

The Prince merely groaned and made his way over to them. “How many times must I tell you, you are allowed to simply call me Tooru.” he quipped, sending them a false look of exasperation.  

The cook rolled their eyes, sensing the sarcasm in his tone. “You never answered my question” they retorted, a playful smirk on their face. 

The Prince gave them a confident smile, almost unable to control his excitement. “Well, if you must know,” he started, causing Y/n to roll their eyes again. “I have come up with a plan for you and I.” 

This caught the cook’s attention. “What do you mean ‘a plan for you and i’?” they asked.

 Tooru began to beam. “I’m so glad you asked.” 

He paced around the room as he explained his idea. “For a while I’ve been thinking about our situations. You wish to experience royal life and I wish to see the world. Well, it dawned on me today! We each hold the key to what we yearn for! You are able to come and go whenever you please, and I am constantly stuck in the castle.” 

Y/n nodded, attempting to keep up with this rush of ideas. “I suppose you are right, in a sense..” they mumbled, watching the Prince pace. 

“So,” Tooru continued. “I came up with a plan to help us both experience what we long for!” 

Y/n nodded, invested in what he had to say. “Well, pray tell,” they said a bit impatiently, “what is your big plan?” 

The Prince smiled, excitedly. “My father has gone to a neighboring kingdom for two weeks time,” he explained. “Whilst he is gone, I will accompany you on your visits to the nearby town during the day; there I may finally see how my people live and become a better ruler for them. Meanwhile, at nightfall, you will accompany me as my guest to my pre-coronation balls ; here you may finally get a chance to see and experience royal life! Don’t you see, Y/n? It’s perfect!” 

Y/n gave him a disbelieving look. A beat of silence passed before they finally realized he was waiting for their response. 

“Your highness...that idea is utterly mad.” 

Tooru’s smile faltered. “How so?” He inquired. 

Y/n shook their head and crossed their arms. “How exactly do you suppose this is to work? Won’t the townspeople recognize you? Your cover would be blown! Not to mention, I’m not sure the kitchen staff would take very kindly to me slacking on my chores to go frolic and play pretend.” 

Once again, Prince Tooru let out a dramatic sigh and leaned against the wooden countertops. 

“Oh sweet Y/n,” He said, a fake pout making its way to his features as he grabbed a slice of the bread sitting in between them. “You really have no faith in me do you?” 

Y/n gave him an inpatient look, signaling for him to get to the point. 

Tooru’s proud smirk returned. “I have arranged disguises for the two of us so we will be able to go out without being recognized!” He announced confidently. “You see, my plan is foolproof.”  

Y/n scoffed. “Good, it needs to be if you are the one orchestrating it.” They teased, a smirk of their own creeping in. 

Tooru gasped in mock offense as the cook let out a large laugh at his reaction. After a few minutes, the two stood in comfortable silence. The Prince climbed up to sit on the counter he was leaning on and bit into his bread slice. Meanwhile, Y/n contemplated his idea. As much as they enjoyed poking fun at him, Y/n knew that Prince Tooru was incredibly intelligent and they trusted his judgement completely. 

“You are sure that we will not be caught?” They whispered, breaking the silence as they went to sit next to the Prince. 

Tooru nodded his head and swallowed his bread. “Positive.” He assured, placing his hand overtop of theirs. 

Y/n blushed slightly yet did not pull away. Small touches like this became frequent throughout their meetings, however, that did not mean they ceased to fluster them. Another beat of silence passed before the young cook let out a shaky breath. 

“Fine.” They finally decided. “If you are confident in your plot, then so am I.” 

Prince Tooru beamed and slightly squeezed Y/n’s hand. 

“Wonderful! We will begin tomorrow morning,” He eagerly explained. “We will meet at the kitchen’s exit just before noon. I will supply both of our disguises and we can make our journey into town.” 

Y/n let out a nervous chuckle and shook their head.

“Your recklessness better not cause me my head, your highness.” 

Tooru gave them a bright smile and hopped off of the counter, extending his hand to help his comrade off the counter. 

“Dear Y/n, you worry too much. Have a little faith in a close friend.” 

With their agreement decided, the pair bid each other goodnight and hurried off to their quarters to prepare for tomorrow morning.

The morning sun slowly rose and shone upon the kingdom and its subjects. Neither the cook nor the prince had slept very soundly that night. Be it anxiety or excitement, neither party was quite sure. However, despite their tired state, the pair still found themselves at their arranged meeting spot and time. Y/n stood outside the door, the early summer sun warming their skin and cool breeze blowing across their face. The feeling was extremely calming. So much so, that they decided to lean themselves against the door and fully enjoy the serenity of the early June weather. Little did they know, Prince Tooru had arrived a while ago. It was a rare sight, seeing Y/n so calm and content, and Tooru was enchanted with it. In the month that the two had come to know each other, Prince Tooru had only ever seen Y/n with their guard up. Constantly stressed, on high alert. It was nice to see such a stark contrast, Y/n with their guard down. 

“Angelic.” That was the term Tooru thought best fit them at that moment. 

After a few moments, Tooru decided that, while he was relishing the sight in front of him, they had to be going soon. Quietly, he tiptoed his way over to Y/n, who still had not noticed he had even arrived. A smirk played on Tooru’s lips as he appeared behind them. Carefully he raised his arms and placed them on Y/n’s shoulders, shaking them as he did so. 

“Surprise!” He shouted in their ear, causing Y/n to flinch and smack the Prince against his head. 

Y/n gasped as they realized what had happened. 

“Your highness!” They exclaimed. “Are you okay?” 

Tooru laughed and stumbled over a little bit. 

“You pack quite the punch, don’t you dear Y/n?” He teased. 

Upon realizing that he was fine, Y/n rolled their eyes and lightly smacked his shoulder. 

“You fool, do not scare me like that again!” They scolded. “I could have hurt you!” 

Tooru gasped in mock offense. “How rude, Y/n!” He whined, trying to banish the smile growing on his face.

Y/n rolled their eyes and began to walk ahead. “Are you ready to venture on, your highness?” 

Perking up, the Prince rushed to catch up with them. Together, the prince and the cook made their way into town. It turned out, the “disguise” Tooru had brought for himself was a simple blue hood along with a plain white shirt and brown pants that he had undoubtedly taken from the servants quarters. While it was simple, it was a relatively good costume. He genuinely did look like a regular townsperson rather than a prince. Once the pair arrived, Prince Tooru immediately ran off on his own to mingle with the townspeople. To Y/n’s surprise, he was actually very good at speaking to his subjects. He had told them that he was a simple traveler and asked for them to tell him more about the kingdom. This way, the Prince was able to learn more about the issues going on as well as experience them first hand. As it turned out, the kingdom was experiencing issues that he had never even learned about. Seeing the way he interacted with his people sparked a new sense of admiration in Y/n. Beneath his confident, cocky façade, Prince Tooru was a leader who genuinely cared about his people. Y/n could not help but smile at the sight of him listening intently to what each person had to say, knowing that he would remember each encounter once they returned to the palace. As the day continued on, Y/n showed Tooru around the town. They took him to the best fruit venders, the sweetest farmers, and the finest tailors the kingdom had to offer. With each stop Tooru grew more and more in love with his kingdom and the people in it. After walking away from a vegetable booth, Y/n noticed that the sun would be setting soon. They stopped momentarily whilst Tooru kept walking. 

“Wait.” Y/n said, grabbing the Prince’s wrist to halt his movements. “Before we venture back to the palace, there’s one more thing I would like to show you.” 

A soft smile took over Tooru’s features and he moved his hand to entangle his fingers with theirs. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” He smiled, 

Y/n grinned and tightened their grip on his hand ever so slightly. Then, with their hands still intertwined, Y/n began to lead Tooru to the edge of town. The Prince could not help but smile softly as the cook excitedly dragged him to their destination. Upon reaching the edge, the two walked on a dirt trail for a little while until they were met with a small, well kept garden. There was a small river flowing nearby and a large assortment of various wildflowers scattered about. However, what really stood out were the giant bushes of red gardenias that seemed to cover the entire area. Prince Tooru looked around in awe at the beauty of the secret garden.

“I discovered this place about a week after our first meeting.” Y/n said, carefully sitting on a small wooden bench right in front of a gardenia bush. “It reminded me of you, in a way.”

The Prince’s gaze shifted to the cook’s at this. He moved to sit next to them, his eyes wordlessly urging them to continue. Having gotten the message, Y/n shifted and gave Tooru a nervous smile.

“It served as a nice, comforting escape from everyday life. A paradise, even.” 

Prince Tooru’s face flushed at this. The explanation was a bit vague but he didn’t ask them to elaborate any further, they didn’t need to. Tooru understood. This was a confession. He carefully placed his hand atop of theirs, as he had many times before, and squeezed it gently. A secret confession of a love returned. 

“I feel the same way, thank you for bringing me here, Y/n.” 

The two sat in a comfortable silence with their hands interlocked. And, as Y/n rested their head on the Prince’s shoulder, Tooru could not think of any other place we would rather be. 

As the serene moments passed the sun began to fall, causing a hazy orange atmosphere to surround the garden. The shade from the trees covered Y/n’s face as they opened their eyes. Noticing how late it was getting, Y/n turned to tell Tooru that they should take their leave soon. However, the sight they were met with caused any words they could have uttered to be caught in their throat. Next to them, the setting sun hit the Prince’s face perfectly. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back in relaxation. The golden hues made Tooru’s hair look warm and soft. 

“Just like hot chocolate during the winter time.” Y/n recalled with a smile.

Suddenly, the Prince’s eyes opened slightly. 

“You know, staring is considered to be quite rude, my dear.” Tooru quipped, his lips curling into a smirk. However his expression was different from his usual, cocky, exterior. There was an underlying softness in his eyes and a faint blush on the apples of his cheeks. It was not hard to tell that this was a side of him only reserved for those close to him. While the rest of the world saw Prince Tooru’s confident façade, Y/n was the only person who got to see the genuine, soft side of him. The thought made Y/n smile.

“Night grows near, we must venture back to the castle soon.” Y/n whispered, fearing that if they were any louder the calm atmosphere would crumble like glass. 

Humming in agreement, Prince Tooru stood up and stretched his limbs. “Shall we then, my dearest Y/n?” He smiled, offering the cook his hand. 

Y/n accepted his offer with a content smile. With their hands intertwined, as they always had been, the two made their way back to the palace. 

Upon their arrival, Tooru removed his hood and snuck Y/n past the knights guarding the castle’s entrance. The two then scurried up the grand staircase, towards the grand hall where the royal family’s rooms were located. Y/n looked around the hallway in absolute awe. They had never been in such an elegant place before. The white marble floors were freshly polished and the golden columns seemed to sparkle. The walls were hung with beautiful family portraits that seemed to come alive on the canvas. Y/n’s gaze had been fixed on one specific portrait with a golden frame with carvings of vines etched on the sides. The painting featured a young Tooru smiling brightly and standing next to a slightly older girl, who Y/n presumed to be his sister. Behind them stood a tall man with a confident grin, who they were able to recognize as the King, and a slightly smaller woman with a kind smile that Y/n did not recognize. All of the sudden they felt two strong arms wind around their waist as well as the weight of someone’s chin resting on their shoulder. 

“This is one of my favorite portraits.” Prince Tooru whispered in their ear.

The cook’s face began to flush red, they had never been this close to the Prince before and the contact was foreign, however it was not unwelcome. In fact, it was almost comforting, being in his arms. 

“It was painted a week before my mother passed.” He continued, his voice dropping ever slightly. 

Y/n blinked, unsure of what to say in this situation. They never really knew their mother. She had died giving birth to them, so there were really no memories left of her to miss. 

“How did she die?” They awkwardly asked, mentally screaming at themselves for asking such a question. 

“I mean-” Their attempt to fix the situation was cut off at the feeling of Tooru tightening his hold on their waist.

“It’s okay.” He reassured, taking a deep breath. 

“My mother was assassinated while she was in town one day.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as they turned their head to look at the Prince, who’s gaze was still fixed on the painting. 

“Her death is one of the reasons I have been forbidden to leave the palace.” He continued. “I suppose my father fears I will meet the same fate she did.” 

A long moment of silence passed. The tension in the air was thick enough to run a blade through. 

“Do you miss her?” Y/n mumbled carefully. 

Tooru’s grip on them tightened once again. 

“Sometimes.” He replied, sounding like he had more to say. 

Just as Y/n was about to encourage him to continue, a loud GONG! shattered the atmosphere surrounding them. Frantically looking towards a giant grandfather clock at the end of the hallway, Tooru noticed the time. 

“Damn.” The Prince cursed, releasing his hold on the cook. “We are going to be late!” 

Together, the two briskly made their way towards the Prince’s chambers. Once inside, Tooru closed the door and locked it. Y/n looked around the room and noticed two outfits neatly laid out on a giant, white bed. The Prince grabbed the pile to the left and ushered the cook behind a large, blue velvet curtain. 

“Here.” He instructed, handing them the clothes. “You may change here.” 

Prince Tooru quickly shut the curtain and fumbled around the room to get changed himself. Y/n began to disrobe as they admired the garments they were given. They were made out of the finest turquoise-colored silks and were decorated with beautiful golden accents. As Y/n pulled the garments over them, they were met with a softness they had never felt from clothing before. Moving around they noted how the silks seemed to sway and how the jewels seemed to glisten. 

“Y/n!” The Prince called out. “Do you require any assistance?” 

“No!” The cook replied quickly. “I am finished.” 

Immediately, the curtain opened and Y/n took in the sight of Prince Tooru. He was wearing a silly button up shirt with a light blue-green vest and golden trousers as well as his usual golden, topaz encrusted crown. Y/n noticed that their outfit seemed to mirror the Princes slightly, what with the colors and the overall style. 

“You look very elegant, your highness.” They complimented with a shy smile. 

Tooru on the other hand was absolutely stunned. Before him he saw what he thought had to have been a deity. The way the colors complimented Y/n’s complexion and how the garments clung to their features in the most flattering way left the Prince speechless. It was at that moment, Tooru truly realized how deep in love he was falling for the cook. 

Y/n shifted under his gaze, a bit nervous that he still had yet to say anything. Noticing this, the Prince mentally kicked himself. 

“My dear, you look….” He trailed off, finding it hard to regain his composure. 

A slightly cocky smirk made its way to the cook's face.

“My my your highness.” They teased. “I believe this is my first time seeing you at such a loss for words. Do I entice you so?”

A light blush dusted Tooru’s cheeks at their jests. A soft grumble tumbled from his pretty lips as he lightly hooked his fingers to the back of Y/n’s hair, pulling them until their faces were merely centimeters apart. 

“Do not tease.” He warned, darkly and with seduction dancing in his tone. 

A heavy blush settled on the cook's face. However, before things could escalate any further, the gong! of a clock echoed throughout the room, signaling that it was really time for the pair to go. Pulling away with a satisfied smirk, Prince Tooru held out his arm for Y/n to take. Wordlessly they accepted, hooking their arm around his and allowing the Prince to lead them to the ballroom. 

As the pair entered the ballroom, Y/n could not help but be astonished once again by their surroundings. The room was ginormous. The marble floors and golden walls mirrored those of the great hall almost exactly, the only difference was that throughout the ballroom, several marble statues of various greek gods were scattered throughout the floor. With a large orchestra in the corner of the room playing a familiar tune Y/n had only heard from the castle’s kitchen and various couples already waltzing around the dance floor, Y/n had easily guessed that the part was in full swing. Prince Tooru chuckled lightly, amused at the cook's obvious admiration. 

“Shall we go and mingle with the guests?” He suggested, leaning in closely to their ear so that Y/n could hear him over the boisterous music. 

The cook gulped harshly. They had forgotten they would have to interact with an abundance of such high class individuals. Sensing their nervousness, Tooru reached to grab Y/n’s chin with his thumb and pointer finger. 

“You will do great.” He reassured. “They will adore you almost as much as I do.” 

His words made Y/n relax a bit and instilled a newfound confidence within them. 

“Alright.” They stated, determination laced in their voice. “I am ready, let us go forth.” 

Smiling proudly, Prince Tooru led the cook to the dance floor and the night truly began. As the hours passed by, Y/n and the Prince danced until their feet ached, joked with guests until their voices got scratchy, and drank various types of wine until their heads got dizzy. Y/n could not think of a time when they felt more alive. The night had been a huge success. That is, until Tooru had to part from them for a moment to have a conversation with another leader. 

“Just remain here until I return.” He had told them, his hands holding theirs. “Tis only a conversation about a treaty between our lands, I shall only be a few moments.” 

And with that, he left a feather-light kiss against Y/n’s knuckles and disappeared into the crowd of nobles. As soon as he left, the entire atmosphere of the room began to shift. The previous excitement that filled Y/n’s veins had passed and been replaced with an overwhelming feeling of anxiety. Looking around the room, Y/n had only one thought in the back of their mind; 

“I do not belong here.”

Feeling out of place and judged, Y/n frantically searched the room for someone familiar to them. They found themselves searching for the warm eyes of their father in the sea of people but, unfortunately, it was no use. Y/n felt hopelessly alone. 

“Perhaps a little fresh air will do me some good.” Y/n decided, making their way towards an exit that led to a balcony just off the side of the ballroom’s entrance. 

Exiting the crowded ballroom, Y/n leaned against the railing of the balcony. As the cool summer’s night air danced lightly across their face, they took a deep breath and attempted to relax. 

“I just do not understand you Tooru.” 

A deep voice interrupted Y/n from their thoughts. Searching for the source, their eyes landed on a balcony only a few feet away from the one they were on. They spotted Prince Tooru standing next to a taller man of whom they had never seen before. The man wore a black button up along with a dark red vest and black trousers. He had spiked black hair and atop his head sat a cold, ruby encrusted crown. Y/n had no doubts that he was also royalty and concluded that he must have been a friend of the Prince. 

“You are going to be King soon, the Great King I might add.” The man continued, a hint of annoyance in his tone. 

“Are you not worried about who will succeed you afterwards?” 

Tooru rolled his eyes at this, his signature unbothered smirk making its way to his face as he turned away from the other prince. 

“Kuroo” He started, his voice calm and collected, a stark contrast against the man’s (now known as ‘Kurro’) brash tone. “It is as I keep telling you, I need not worry about a successor. It is already set in stone that my nephew will be the next heir after I.” 

The response had only seemed to aggravate Prince Kuroo even further. 

“Even so.” He argued. “Would it not be nice to settle down with another? Find someone to spend your days with?” 

This question caused Prince Tooru’s smirk to fall and a far off look to gather in his eyes. There was an intense moment of silence between the two royals.

“I cannot afford any distractions.” Tooru said finally. “My kingdom is my first priority, you know this.” 

Kuroo had let out an exasperated sigh. 

“So, you will never be wed?” Kurro asked, defeated. 

Tooru instantly answered, the hard, far off look never leaving his face. 

“Never.”

Something about this conversation struck a chord within Y/n. They were unsure if it was the intensity of the situation, the amount of wine they had taken in, or the fact that (up until recently) all of their feelings had been bottled up. However, as soon as the words left the Prince’s mouth, Y/n let out a quiet, choked sob. Their emotions had moved to the forefront of their mind as the harsh reality set in. 

“Of course.” They thought, tragically. “We were never meant to be in the first place.”

Bringing a hand up to their mouth, as to not let out any more miserable sobs, Y/n promptly exited the balcony and made their way to the exit of the ballroom. Making their way through the crowd of drunk, dancing nobels, they successfully reached the front gates of the castle and continued walking. They walked, and walked, and walked, until suddenly their steps turned into sprints. Y/n thought they must have appeared to be insane, running through the town in fancy clothes, sobbing their heart out. Nevertheless, they ran. They ran until their legs had reached their destination, the garden they had visited earlier that day. With a heavy heart, Y/n took a seat on the bench they sat on earlier that day with the Prince. 

“How could I have been so naive?” Y/n thought bitterly as they buried their face in their hands and began to sob. Of course they could have never been, they resided in two completely different worlds. It was unknown to the cook how much time had passed before they began to hear footsteps nearing their location. Y/n quickly looked up and was met with a rather disheveled-looking Prince Tooru. 

“I thought I would find you here.” The Prince whispered, afraid to startle the young cook. “Why did you run off? I thought we were having a lovely time.” 

He sat down and reached to place his hand atop of theirs, as he always had, only for Y/n to flinch and remove their hand from his reach. This had puzzled Tooru. He tilted his head and looked at them with confusion, silently urging them to explain their behavior. Y/n let out a sigh and shifted away from the Prince slightly. 

“Tooru..” They trailed off, trying to find the words to explain the situation. 

The Prince was taken aback. Y/n had never addressed him by his first name before, and the sound of hit caused his heartbeat to speed up ever so slightly. 

“What are we doing?” Y/n asked, sadness deep in their voice. 

This has perplexed Tooru even further. 

“What do you mean, dearest?” He asked, genuine confusion evident on his face. 

At that point, all of Y/n’s frustration and sadness had begun to bubble over and pour out violently. 

“What are we doing?” Y/n repeated harshly. “Surely you do realize that we cannot be together, we can never be together! There is no future for us, you made that clear in your conversation with your comrades!”

Tooru sat there in shock. He had been unaware that they had been listening in. 

“Besides.” Y/n continued, letting out a shaky breath. “You and I were never meant to be anyways. We are too far apart, from different universes.” 

A choked sob left the cooks lips as they hopelessly avoided the Prince’s gaze. 

“So tell me, your highness, what are we doing?” 

A long moment of silence passed through the garden as Prince Tooru processed what he had just heard. In reality, Y/n had simply left the conversation too early. After a little more arguing, Tooru had confessed to Kurro that he had fallen for one of his servants and, following his coronation, he had sworn to find away for the two to wed. Prince Tooru loved Y/n more than he had loved anything else. After realizing he had not been the best at accurately expressing that, his heart broke like the porcelain plate that cut his finger when they first met. 

“Y/n..” Tooru mumbled, scooting closer to the cook. “Y/n, look at me.” 

He grabbed their face gently and, hesitantly, they let him. Prince Tooru’s eyes were filled with concern and love, while Y/n’s were filled with tears and devotion. 

“Y/n L/n.” Tooru whispered, his voice soft and full of complete adoration. “I am completely, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.” 

Y/n’s eyes widened. They put their hand on Tooru’s wrist and pulled back from him a bit, as if to inspect him to see if he was lying. Yet, when Y/n looked into his eyes, all that could be found was pure, sincere emotion. 

“I love you so much, my heart aches.” The Prince continued. “I will not rest until we do have a future together. If I am to spend my life with anyone, it has to be you. ” 

A moment of silence passed before Tooru leaned in cautiously, giving Y/n a chance to pull away. However, without a second thought, they leaned in, connecting their lips in one fluid motion. 

And, as the two lovers shared their first kiss in a garden of red gardenias, a sense of hope began to bloom in their hearts. A hope that maybe, just maybe, the universe could allow these two worlds to collide. Just this once.