#yuichi yamoto — interactions.

[rcsplendent]

open    starter                    —                        anyone!  location    :    a  training  room.              time    :    early  morning.

 it's  quiet  in  the  training  room  save  for  a  repetitive,  ominous  sound:  the  thwip  of  a  blade  as  it  whizzes  through  the  air,  and  the  loud  THUNK  as  it  hits  its  target  dead-center.  yuichi  stands  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  encircled  by  a  ring  of  bullseyes  about  twenty  feet  away,  a  small  stack  of  throwing  knives  held  in  his  left  hand.  as  he  pulls  another  knife  from  the  stack,  he  draws  in  a  slow  breath,  &  with  the  speed  of  a  striking  viper,  he  flings  it  at  a  target  to  his  right,  hitting  it  dead-center  just  like  the  others.  but  next  comes  a  more  formidable  challenge  —  the  target  directly  behind  him.  he  squares  his  stance,  pulling  another  knife  from  his  left  hand,  inhaling  slow  &  steady.  on  the  exhale,  he  whips  around,  &  thank  GOD  for  his  reflexes,  because  JUST  before  the  knife  leaves  his  grip,  his  brain  registers  a  person  standing  in  the  knife's  trajectory.  his  eyes  widen  &  he  overcorrects  his  angle  in  a  last-second  attempt  not  to  commit  murder,  &  the  blade  clatters  to  the  floor  between  himself  &  the  intruder.   "  are  you  INSANE?  "   he  snaps,  dark  eyes  alight.  he  lets  out  a  huff,  nerves  still  tingling  from  the  adrenaline  of  being  spooked  &  also  nearly  mortally  wounding  someone.    "  i  could've  killed  you. "   he  saunters  forward  to  pick  up  the  dropped  knife,  cursing  quietly  under  his  breath  when  he  sees  the  tip  of  it  is  now  chipped.   "  &  you  owe  me  a  new  knife.  this  was  a  custom  set. "  he  glares,  the  flow  of  his  training  now  disrupted  —  he  moves  to  the  side  of  the  room,  beginning  to  unwrap  his  hands.   "  the  fuck  are  you  doing  here,  anyways?  "

[rcsplendent]

yuichi narrows his eyes at the telescope when she steps aside. even he can't deny that he's curious. he spends so much of his time focused on his own hands, on his positioning during sparring matches — so rarely does he get to turn his gaze up to the sky. " no, not at all. not ever, i don't think. " he shakes his head, unable to produce a memory of a time where he'd stargazed. " may i? " he asks simply, before leaning down to peer through the telescope. he lets out an intrigued hum at the sight, eyebrows raising. " oh — wow. " he glances over at the princess, a look of bewilderment on his face. " is it always like this? it's — it doesn't even look real. "

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 at the other, giving space for him to get closer to her telescope, and use it in any way he would like. She looked at one of her guards who was yawning, but watching the princess. Then her gaze shifts to the sky, admiring the beauty of the starry night. ❛ Not as much as I would like, but sometimes. ❜ She responded Yuichi. ❛ And you? ❜ She tries to keep on the small talk, although she is not really great at it.

[rcsplendent]

closed starter — midori yamoto. ( @dxncingxnmyown ! )

location : the main hall, just after the hostages escape.

like a feral animal, yuichi had been practically foaming at the mouth for an opportunity to take out the fucking guards who were keeping them hostage. he'd counted seven different moments where he could've incapacitated one or both of them with his bare hands. regardless, a claustrophobia-fueled rage is woven in his expression as he swiftly navigates the fleeing crowd. & he can tell himself all he wants that he wasn't looking for midori, but the way he goes straight for her the moment he spots her amongst the sea of faces is pretty damning evidence. normally, in a moment like this, you'd expect the two of them to immediately start verbally slap-fighting about the most inconsequential things possible. normally the rage in his eyes would be directed at her. but these are not normal circumstances, & neither is his immediate reaction: he pulls her into a bruising hug, arms wrapping around her shoulders & practically yanking her into his chest. a fierceness fueled by a kinship — a knee-jerk relief that she's okay. but as quick as it comes, it leaves him, & he pushes her away to hold her at an arm's length, his hands still resting on her upper arms as he blinks once, twice, three times, trying to get his bearings. " you're. . . uninjured. " his tone is flat, almost bored. scornful, even. but it's performative, & does very little to veil the relief that roils underneath.

[rcsplendent]

closed starter — diana castillo. ( @bloodycrxwn ! )

despite attending the party together, finding diana upon his arrival had proven to be a challenge. yuichi, in a fashion true to himself, hadn't wanted to show up too early, & also doesn't plan on staying very long — but now that he's gotten a glass of champagne in him, he's feeling a little looser, a little more amicable. he spots her from across the room & makes his way to her, sidling up beside her & reveling in the way the discomfort he feels begins to melt away as a simple side-effect of her presence. " care for a dance, my love? " he asks in a slightly playful tone — mostly to indicate that he's joking. he doesn't like dancing, is the thing. but it's a testament to how much she's changed him — the fact that he's only half-joking, & will happily take her by the hand if she says yes.

[rcsplendent]

closed starter.  —  midori yamoto. ( @dxncingxnmyown )

yuichi has to admit that the french know how to throw a fucking party. he used to love this kind of atmosphere — back when he was actually invited to these sort of things — but now he just finds it funny, watching people dance ( literally and figuratively ) around what they're really here for: money, status, sex. it's something akin to fun, sitting at a table off to the side and people-watching, reveling in his own unimportance for once instead of bitterly stewing on it like he usually would. his long fingers curl around a glass of whiskey, the condensation on the glass dampening the strips of fabric wrapped around his knuckles. usually, his wraps are purely functional — but these are a soft silk-satin, matching the fabric of his ornate, off-white kimono.

he senses midori before he actually sees her. he wishes he didn't — wishes he wasn't always so aware of her — but he's hypervigilant of her presence, ever-present and irritating, like a splinter in his eye. as she enters his peripheral vision, he visibly bristles, tensing in his seat. he wonders, for a moment, if she's coming to speak with him, but he tracks her as she passes right in front of him, presumably unaware. usually, he'd just let her go on her way, but something about how invisible he's felt ever since they arrived in france — ever since she was found, really — it makes his body act before his brain, and his hand snaps out to grab her wrist as it floats in front of him.

❝ ane. ❞ he smiles bitterly up at her, the hand not holding her wrist circling his glass of whiskey. he lifts it to his lips to take an eerily-casual sip, the condensation leaving a ring of moisture behind, embedded in the tablecloth. he juts his chin at the seat across from him, setting his glass down again, his expression sharp and unrelenting. a challenge. ❝ sit with me for a moment. you DO have a moment for your dear brother, don't you? ❞

[rcsplendent]

yuichi  doesn't  tend  to  uselessly  ramble,  but  he  does  tend  to  complain  when  he  gets  enough  alcohol  in  him.  which  is  how  he  finds  himself  side-eyeing  the  princess  he  had  absentmindedly  begun  speaking  to  (  mostly  snide  judgments  of  the  dancers  in  the  middle  of  the  ballroom  )  when  they  so  flippantly  state  that  they  hadn't  been  listening  in  the  slightest.   "  you  know  what?  forget  it,  "    he  mutters  simply,  shaking  his  head  &  sipping  from  his  own  glass,  lips  pursed  as  he  turns  his  attention  back  to  the  dancers.  his  eyebrows  furrow  as  he  glances  back  at  them  once  more.   "  what  have  you  got  in  there?  "    he  motions  to  the  chalice  in  their  hand.  he's  only  been  able  to  find  wine  &  champagne  tonight  —  nothing  harder  had  been  made  available,  at  least  readily  so.

open  starter  ›  anyone  &  dasom,  @francehqstarters  !

          if  there's  one  thing  dasom  enjoys,  it's  a  party,  no  matter  the  occasion.  dancing,  music,  booze  —  what  more  could  they  ask  for  ?  deciding  to  take  a  break  from  the  dancefloor  to  enjoy  the  refreshments  &  performers,  they  swirl  their  drink  around  in  their  chalice  (  the  third  of  the  evening  )  &  take  in  their  surroundings.  it's  only  then  that  the  imperial  princess  realizes  someone  has  been  speaking  to  them  this  entire  time,  cup  being  brought  up  to  their  lips  as  they  speak  into  it  before  taking  another  sip.  ❝  right,  i  got  none  of  that,  ❞  dasom  admits,  only  a  tad  apologetic,  ❝  would  you  mind  repeating  yourself  ?  ❞

[rcsplendent]

❝  pray  for  PEACE  with  a  KNIFE  in  my  hand.  ❞

☼☾  (  andrew  koji  ,  33  ,  he/him  ,  cis  male  ,  yamoto  4  )  -  have  you  seen  YUICHI  YAMOTO?    we’ve  heard  through  the  grapevine  that  they’re  LOYAL  but  also  UNRELENTING. when  you  think  of  them  ,  you  think  of  bruised  knuckles  wrapped  in  bloodstained  cotton,  a  calculating  gaze  searching  for  weaknesses,  the  pinprick  pain  of  dying  nerves. 

tw: violence

parallels  :  zuko  (  avatar: the last airbender  )  ; jaime lannister  (  game of thrones  )  ;  the prince  (  bullet train  )

BASIC  INFO

FULL  NAME:  yuichi yamoto

PRONUNCIATION:  you - ee - chee 

NICKNAMES:  " ichi, " which happens to mean " one "

AGE:  thirty-three

GENDER:  cis man

PRONOUNS:  he/him

ORIENTATION:  bisexual biromantic, preference for women

LANGUAGE(S)  SPOKEN:  primary  —  japanese,  conversational  —  english,  french

ACCENT:  japanese

LABEL:  the scorned;  one who has been deemed unworthy, tossed aside.

APPEARANCE  &  PERSONALITY

FACE  CLAIM:  andrew koji

HEIGHT:  six feet even

HAIR:  inky black, sometimes shaved into a buzzcut, but currently a few inches long; hangs forward over his forehead.

EYES:  brown, almost black.

USUAL  EXPRESSION:   terribly bored and disengaged from the conversation at hand; when necessitated by the circumstances, poised and practiced formality, hands clasped behind his back.

POSITIVE  TRAITS:  fierce,  unafraid,  observant,  tenacious,  loyal

NEGATIVE  TRAITS:  brazen,  reckless,  moody,  unfriendly,  disgraced

FAMILY

PARENTS:  the emperor of japan & his wife

SIBLINGS:  midori yamoto, crown princess; two other younger siblings

THINGS  TO  KNOW

you barely remember anything before the age of five. most of your life is a blur anyways, but the earlier years are the hardest to recall. one thing you do remember, though, like a bright white spot in a sea of gray, is the day she disappeared. your dear sister.

you were just two, so it's not like you knew what was happening at the time, but you remember your parents wailing, holding and clinging to each other at the same time. you cried, too, paralyzed by the chaos of it all, but they were too occupied with their grief to care for you; an omen of what was to come when you were older. they spared no expense in trying to find midori, but days turns into weeks, and weeks turned into months. it got to a point where it didn't make sense anymore to keep looking. that's when they turned to you. their second-born, next in line.

it started out as simple things; extra time with tutors, more etiquette lessons. but as you got into your teenage years, your father started taking you to the dojo to train. you learned all forms of martial arts, from the meditative movements of tai chi, to the arresting holds of judo, to the bone-breaking strikes of karate. you were fourteen, sparring with warriors twice your size. at first, you were beaten to a pulp, curling up in a fetal position as they rained hell upon you, wondering why the hell you had to do this. but eventually, you started holding your own — nine-against-one, and you'd come out on top, knuckles bruised and bloody, not a scratch on you. you were a warrior.

that's what your father wanted you to be, so you became one. there wasn't even a question around it. you were going to be emperor one day. so you did what he asked, and you didn't ask questions in return. you learned what it meant to rule, what it meant to have no fear, what it meant to truly be ruthless. you fought in battle — they called you the ghost of the front lines. you stood beside your father as he made move after strategic move trying to fend off japan's enemies. you made suggestons, now and then, but only when asked. 

you were a perfect heir. a blank canvas. and in turn, you completely abandoned yourself — you became a shell of a person, pliable as clay, ready and willing to be moulded.

it was your twenty-ninth birthday when the scales were tipped. you awoke to a cacophony outside, and you were naive enough to believe that maybe, just maybe, your family was planning some kind of celebration for you, OF you. but after you dragged yourself out of bed and made your way to the throne room — there she was, in all her found glory. midori. 

nobody remembered your birthday. not that day, and not ever since.

you've been thrown to the wayside. you're convinced you could be swap all of the family portraits for versions without you there, and nobody would notice. hell, you've even thought about having those commissioned and actually following through with it, just to see how long it takes for your family to realize you're gone. maybe then they'd care for you. it worked for your sister — why wouldn't it work for you?

you don't even know who you are, now. you spent thirty years in overdrive, training day in and out, becoming the fiercest of warriors and the most ruthless of future rulers. you were going to deliver your nation the glory it so deserved. but she stole that from right under your nose, that fucking thief. 

all you know how to do is fight. so that's what you do nowadays. for the last three years, you've disappeared into the night, prowling the industrial edges of the city. it's a well-known secret in japan, the underground fighting circuit. when you entered that ring for the first time, it made you laugh, the fact that they asked for your name. not a single person recognized you as the fucking prince. an echo of a person in all parts of your life.

but there, in that ring, where nobody knew you, where you could be powerful again — the lack of renown, but this time without the shame — you could become someone else. so when they asked you for a name, you gave them a moniker instead: THE GHOST.

you're undefeated. two-hundred-seven to zero.

HEADCANONS

yuichi's name means "first born son," which is both true, and also incredibly ironic !

he's sort of living a double life as a street fighter back at home; he goes out almost every night to an underground fighting ring. he doesn't even do it for the money — he just wants to feel powerful again now that his heir status has been stripped from him.

he's an insanely good fighter, particularly in judo and karate. anyone who challenges him will probably end up flat on the mat within seconds.

because he's away from home, he's particularly irritable and pent-up, because not only is he deprived of his one form of "release," he's also constantly surrounded by reminders that he's no longer the heir to the throne. so, expect him to be VERY pissy. apologies in advance !

WANTED CONNECTIONS

sparring partner(s): yuichi spends most of his time training while he's in france, not wanting his fighting skills to dull while he's away from home. most of the time he trains alone using punching bags and things of the sort, but i think it would b dope if somebody surprised him by actually keeping up with him. bonus points if they start to meet regularly and eventually become friends.

ex- and current lovers: yuichi didn't have a ton of time for real relationships while he was an heir, but within the last three years, he's probably gotten around plenty. he's very self-destructive and power-hungry, so messy, sexy situations where he refuses to be vulnerable are very welcome ! 

a lil love moment: listen. the heart of yuichi's inner turmoil has to do with the fact that he feels worthless. and i think it would just b incredibly sweet if somebody was able to show him that he's his own person and is valuable apart from his family. idk ! 

others: literally anything you could possibly think of! 

[rcsplendent]

closed  starter  —  you choose!  ( @gcldforged ! )

 location  :  the  infirmary.      "  i'm  fine,  "   he  snaps  for  what  feels  like  the  sixth  time  at  the  nurse  who  insists  on  taking  his  pulse.  it'll  be  normal,  perhaps  a  hair  elevated  due  to  the  stress  of  being  held  hostage  in  the  ballroom,  &  then  again  here  when  he  could  be  making  himself  useful  elsewhere.  with  diana,  with  his  sisters.  while  his  stern  assertion  does  little  to  deter  the  nurse,  the  glare  he  shoots  at  her  scares  her  enough  to  unhand  him,  &  she  makes  a  hurried  excuse  about  somebody  needing  her  attention.  he  sighs,  then,  glazed  eyes  turning  forward  until  they  land  upon  another.  "  do  you  need  the  bed?  "   he  asks,  an  inquisitive  eyebrow  raising.  "  i  was  just  about  to  leave. "

[rcsplendent]

her comment makes him laugh — a real, genuine laugh. one thing he's liked ( or loved, now, if he's being honest with himself ) about her from the beginning is her brutal honesty, always willing to speak her mind regardless of consequences. " i suppose that would've made things terribly uncomfortable, wouldn't it? " he muses with a playful smile, lifting his hand to place it over hers where it rests against his cheek. her next words makes his heart miss a beat — something he's never felt before, not for this reason, anyways. an old, habitual part of him wants to run from the feeling, but he stays planted here, gaze fixed to hers, lips parted & eyes fond in an expression that can only be described as lovestruck. " i love you, too, " he breathes out, nodding slowly, as if he's processing the words as he says them. " i love you. " he smiles, then, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand, a slightly playful glint in his eyes. " isn't so scary now that we've said it, hm? "

The words played in her head and she felt her heart skip a beat as soon as they left her mouth. It came out naturally, it felt like the right thing to say, she wanted him to know how she truly felt about him. But at the same time, she was scared, because there was still that fear, deep inside of her telling her that there was no idea he felt the same way towards her. "Good, because this would become very weird and awkward if you said any different." A sigh escaped her lips, as she stared up at him. "I think you might be the one for me. And I would want nothing more than to make this official, if it's something you would want too." She paused, biting down on her bottom lip. "I love you. For a while now, but I was too scared of saying it out loud. Although now, I want the whole world to know." Diana moved one of her hands up, letting it rest on his face as she caressed his cheek with her thumb.

[rcsplendent]

the sound that erupts from yuichi's chest is feral, a guttural scream, as he struggles against his restraints — his advisors flinch as they hold tighter to him, one holding each of his arms, and the one behind him tightening his grip around the prince's neck. his face is crimson-red, partly from the partial restriction of his airway, but also a side-effect of the RAGE coursing through him, making him lightheaded and myopic. cotton-wrapped fingers claw at the forearm pressing against his trachea ( hard enough to break skin — his advisor will have his head later for scratching him like that, not that yuichi's concerned about it right now ). his legs kick haphazardly at the ankles of the people holding him, scrambling for purchase, but he just can't land a good hit, can't manage to break the grip — and then he's knocked completely breathless, lungs withering like deflated balloons under the forceful jabs to his diaphragm. he wheezes, a pathetic sound; teeth bared as he screams again, angry and pained — a rabid animal trapped. 

" you're nothing but a fucking pest, " his voice is gruff, hoarse, dragging in a heaved breath as he tries to recover from the two blows to his abdomen, the arm against his throat making the simple task of breathing difficult. he can already feel a bruise blooming under the skin there — nothing he hasn't experienced before, but it still hurts like a fucking bitch, and he still can't breathe. the fact that his advisors hesitate to release him, even after being attacked, speaks to yuichi's penchant for violence — making a calculated decision that it's safer for everyone to keep yuichi restrained even if it means allowing the chinese prince to hit back. bloodshot eyes track the other man as he checks his cheek for blood; yuichi grits his teeth, fiending to get another hit in. he only vaguely hears his advisor bark something back at the other prince, something along the lines of ' it would be irresponsible of me to allow such chaos to unfold ' — yuichi's eyes roll, impudent even in pain. in a split-second, he winds his arm, sending a full-force jab of his elbow into his advisor's side. instantly, the man crumples like wet paper, landing ass-first on the floor behind yuichi, the advisors holding his arms letting go to tend to the injured man. the prince doesn't even look — he's out for blood now, enough to injure one of his own. 

much of the crowd has scattered, drinks & personal affects abandoned on nearby tables, their nervous systems switching from freeze to flee once the entertainment of the fight turns into the very real possibility of danger. yuichi prowls a few steps to the left as he finally regains enough oxygen to think, blackened eyes searching for weaknesses. he knows he's got maybe thirty seconds before guards from all nations are on him. his hand moves up, thumb swiping at his nose as he thinks for the most efficient target ; but then, he hears it: his sister's name sans honorifics — too informal, too intimate — and his eyes flash with something chaotic and rageful, a shark scenting blood. a crazed smile tug his lips upward on one side, and in one swift movement, he's behind the prince, wrenching tian feng's arm behind his back at a dislocating angle, hand a vice-grip around the other man's wrist. he can see guards approaching from the corners of the room — fifteen seconds. 

" i could end your fucking bloodline with nothing but a dagger and an hour of free time, little prince, " his voice is low, close to tian feng's ear. " so answer this question, and i'll reconsider breaking your fucking shoulder. " he yanks hard on the man's arm; years in the ring have graced him with enough anatomical knowledge to know he's just a few pounds of pressure away from doing irreparable damage. his eyes flick up, everything around him moving in half-time as guards and advisors scramble towards him, pushing people and tables out of the way; ten seconds. " what knowledge do you have of my sister to call her by her name? "

as the words left him in an exhale, almost numb to the sound of his own voice, tian feng wondered quite where exactly the outburst had come from - and where, exactly, the strong feeling of dislike originated from. was he still, in some small way, trapped under his father's claws; buying into the superiority complex over them, despite his best efforts in tearing down the rivalry, to end the war? but no, as soon as the fear touched tian feng's mind, it was cast aside. his business with yuichi did not spawn from a place of political offense - though, plenty of that to be found. it was more personal, midori's ascent something he had suddenly clung to as an omen, a sign, a promise for a better tomorrow.

how dare he speak down on his blood, his home, his legacy, his duty. tian feng would never be emperor; but he still had risen his sword. what did yuichi do, the great prince, but sit && mope? was it all about the glory of a crown to him? the sinful decadence disgusted tian feng, and in the split second he caught sight of fist rearing back - he came alive. heartbeat in his ears, tian feng stumbled back with a single step at the blow, but instead of cowering in the face of yuichi's rage... the qing prince smiled. it reminded him of the war days; he && his men, brawling over nothing, the bets placed.

what a striking similarity between the rivals - one they'd never come to know of the other. how similar the blood that now boiled under thinly kept veils, their masks for the ball no match for the ones they wore over their souls. maybe tian feng was envious, green to the way yuichi had fully thrown his caution to the wind; his thoughts made known. if tian feng were to make his mind a free concept...

no blood. fingers to cheek confirmed that, and tian feng looked to his own hands, fingers laden with rings - it would be a cheap, cruel trick to return the favor to yuichi's face, and he'd not risk damage to his treasures. tian feng opted for the gut instead, swift as could be and in perfect rhythm with the advisor who did his best to restrain the other - two sharp jabs, surely enough to whisk all air away, and he stopped, stepping back. " unhand him. " he spoke to the advisor, but his eyes locked onto yuichi's. " i may be prideful, but it is rightfully so. i will not face a man who is not on equal grounds as i. unhand him, and if he comes at me again, i will not apologize for putting a stop to it myself, without your help. surely you would not further disrespect the qing empire? " now, he sneered at yuichi. " you owe midori an apology. " a mistake, to use simply her name, one he was too arrogant in his percieved victory over the other to even notice the slip.

[rcsplendent]

i think of it every day. the words ring out in the space between them like a death rattle, harrowing & honest. he listens to her, eyes trained upon her face, & feels his chest split down the center as she outlines the reality of what happens in her mind; agonizing guilt on one side of the canyon & envy on the other. only she could inspire such a confusing combination of emotions.

he opens his mouth to speak, but snaps it shut at the mention of her. the woman he loves. the one he's been trying to convince himself he might be able to leave behind when all of this is over. it's tempting. the idea of stealing two horses & riding off into the night, never to be seen again. a similar story to the one he'd heard about midori thirty years ago, only he'd leave willingly, & he'd make that known, too. but ...

" i will NOT — " he snaps, interrupting her. a shaky breath interrupts his speech, as if he might be able to prevent the words from leaving him, but it's too late. a beat passes, & he feels a wet heat pricking at his eyes, a tightness in his throat — he hasn't felt either of those since he was a child. slowly, he begins to shake his head, & he does not stop as he speaks. " i will not leave you here. " it's low & shaky when it finally comes out, dark eyes trained on her, alight with a fierce honesty. it's as if he's realizing it for the first time as he says it — he could never leave her behind. " i will not — leave you alone, midori. i will not let them do to you what they've done to me. you are too — " he falls silent, then. no words could articulate what he means. too good? too kind? " — you do not deserve that. "

It's always been a fight; spun vitriol, practiced precision. They fight with words the way they would fight in arms. Akin to a choreographed fight or dance, they do it in a way that is almost routine. This time, however, they spin out of orbit. Their precision unraveled by a heart too heavy, a mind too burdened.

"I think of it every day!" The words come as quickly as Midori blinks. Fortunately, they are out in the field, where nothing more than gusts of wind and the breath of their horses could be heard. Words that, in these last three years, remain silent ruminations instead of loud expositions. Fitting, then, that it comes as a response to Yuichi's words. Who else could entrap her in her own honesty?

"Every day I think of leaving. I imagine every porcelain plate and family heirloom I could carry, the routes in and out of the palace, and how long it would take to journey by horseback outside of Edo." It's a well-crafted thought, too. Three years in her gilded cage, and she has it down to a science; the plates picked out, the strongest mare at her stead. But he knows that. Yuichi knows her, even without knowing her at all. Maybe there's comfort in knowing that she, alone, is not the anomaly. That even a silver spoon bred Prince of Yamoto lineage would clamor to escape. But how could it, when he would hate her for it forever?

Just as his horst stills, so too does hers. There's a long stretch of silence, perturbed by their first agreement in years. "Then go, ototo." She whispers quietly. "Marry that Portuguese Princess you make eyes at when you think no one is watching. Be free in a place where neither I or our parents can twist you into something bloodied and beaten." Midori softens her reigns, and in doing so, she inhales the sob that threatens to fall. "You've done the work, you've made the sacrifice... Go and be free. And I'll do the time I escaped those years ago."

"I've been alone my entire life. I know how it's done. And when you leave, I'll be alone once more."

[rcsplendent]

he should've known from the moment she started talking that she would be rattling off about her glorious day out in nature, heedless of any sort of negative energy he's putting out ( subconsciously or otherwise ). this is how it always goes — her blatantly ignoring his persistent desire to be left alone no matter how hard he tries to broadcast it through steely glances & sharp-tongued commentary. her insisting on pestering him anyways, though he never quite reaches the point where he makes a real effort to get rid of her. " even if such a fantastical theory were true, " he begins, looking over at her with an exasperated furrow to his brow. " why would you want that? your ancestors watching your every move? i do not want some old ghost perceiving me like that. "

despite his tone, his warning, michiko does exactly as he knew she would and ignores it entirely. it doesn't bother her — and more importantly it certainly doesn't send the girl running off with her tail between her legs like it may others. she isn't worried about upsetting him, not in any way that counts at least. so she moves on as quickly as he had begun, completely unbothered by his slight attitude. and again, even if she can read between the lines, she disregards his disinterest in her questioning. however, as much as she knew yuichi, he knew her just as well. and at the ask of how she was, how her own day was going, the girl brightened even more. thrown entirely off track of her previous line of questioning. " oh it's been wonderful, actually. i saw the prettiest butterfly this morning. i did hear once that butterflies are those who have passed coming to visit us. do you think it may have been some ancestor of ours checking up on me ? "

[rcsplendent]

yuichi's eyebrows furrow as he hears the girl's comment, his head turning slightly to glance over at her. he's ... perplexed by her optimism, but for some reason, he can't bring himself to shut down the conversation with a simple ' who the fuck do you think you're speaking to? ' like he usually would. " fairies? " he echoes absently, narrowing his eyes. " you europeans have such odd folklore. "

@francehqstarters ( victoria + open ! ) location: the gardens time: almost sunset

"I almost want to believe that fairies are real," Victoria mused as her fingers gently graced a nearby rose, examining the way the golden sunlight danced across the petals, carefully trying to avoid each torn underneath her hand. "Wouldn't the world be so much more interesting if they were?"

[rcsplendent]

yuichi is, to put it bluntly, entirely unsure of how to respond to this guard's painstaking politeness. how does anyone move about the world with such grace & not get unbelievably sick of having to keep up the facade? it occurs to him, briefly, that perhaps it's not a facade for the other man. it would be for yuichi, of course, in all his natural abrasiveness & recently-learned cruelty. but it is possible that the guard is simply naturally kind. what an unnerving thought.   ​​​​​​​" thank you, "   he says flatly, voice a bit gravelly, as if he had to to brush the dust off of those two words from having not used them for so long. at the question, he blinks, and his knee-jerk reaction ( the reaction he would've had while he was the heir ) is to vehemently deny someone from a potential enemy nation the opportunity to learn from him — after all, the other man could easily just kill him on the spot. but he's feeling reckless ( and a little intoxicated ), and so he scoffs, shrugging his shoulders.  " why not, "  he mutters, waving his hand to beckon the other over to where he's standing.  " come stand here. a lot of it has to do with your posture. "  he squares his stance, facing one of the targets and narrowing his eyes at it.  " the throw is the easiest part. you throw it like you'd throw anything else. you've probably got a fine arm on you, so don't worry about that. the worst of it is controlling your breathing. "  to demonstrate, he takes a deep, slow breath. on the exhale, he winds his arm back & flings the knife at the target, hitting it dead-center.  " good aim comes with practice. just focus on your breathing. "  he hands the other man one of the knives, then moves to get clear out of the way, waving a hand over his shoulder as he goes.  " you try. "

Theo was not a man to falter just because a man, even a superior in some way, was grumpy or abrasive. In fact, Theo was highly suspicious of people who were the opposite; most of his life had been spent with people who held a sort of bite in their personality. Furthermore, Theo knew it was part of his job to placate those of the other countries; Theo also was quite impressed by this stranger's skills. "I will personally ensure that the blacksmith maintains both the shape and the balance. It is a lovely piece and I respect such a fine craft," Theo nodded, holding the knife gently. "I am. I report to the Marechal. As for my fighting skills, I do well enough to survive." Theo had never been one to brag, but he was also a scrapper. "I have never seen knife work like that though. Could you teach me?"

[rcsplendent]

yuichi smiles down at her ruefully, letting out a soft sound as he listens. it's a difficult thing for him — empathy. he never learned how to show it, & practicing it with her feels ... strange, considering how easily it seems to come to her. but she's the only person who's ever made him want to. " i was terrified, " he admits after a moment, eyebrows furrowing as he lifts a hand to gently graze against her cheekbone. " not of the situation. i was certain from the moment we were trapped that it would resolve itself. i was just ... " he sighs, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. " i was afraid of what you might've been going through. we didn't know what was going on outside. i ... couldn't help but worry they had gotten to you, too. " he pulls away, then, looking down at her. " but we're safe, yeah? both of us. aren't we lucky? "

Diana sighed as she finally came up to him, her arms went to wrap around his torso as she hugged him tightly. It felt like a relief, finally being able to hold him in her arms, to touch him and to see with her own eyes, that he was unharmed. "I know, I'm sorry." She said as she pulled away, looking up at him. Diana leaned into his touch, shaking her head slightly. "You don't have to apologize, it wasn't your fault." She paused. "I just felt useless on the outside, not knowing what was happening, if you were alright. It was the worst feeling I ever felt."

[rcsplendent]

yuichi glances nonchalantly over his shoulder when she mentions the poor guard, who's just now getting up from the mats & hobbling off to go lick his wounds.  " i could've gone easy on him, but he called me some insult in french before we started. "   he turns back to her with a conniving grin. it's not unlike him to find joy in other people's suffering ( especially if it's because of him ), but it also acts as a cover for the fact that he's just ... happy. unnaturally so, at that. & it had started when he'd spotted her, which is something he'd rather not admit aloud, & also something he stubbornly brushes off as a coincidence.

his gaze flickers over her form in the subtlest of movements before it quickly returns to meet hers. even as disgraced as he is, having been usurped by his sister & all but tossed aside, he still has that knee-jerk instinct to remain formal & polite – the tendencies & mannerisms of an heir.  " i can be done, if you wish me to be. "  he says with a half-hearted shrug, his lips curling into a wolfish little smirk, slinging the rag over his shoulder.   " or i could go another round, if you wish to watch. "   he bows his head a bit, but his eyes stay locked on hers, a playful glint in his own.   " i am at your behest, milady. " 

Diana couldn't help but chuckle as the group of women giggled and whispered among themselves. She couldn't tell if they were handmaidens or just young servant girls passing by to admire the soldiers sparring, but either way, she found it quite amusing. Diana couldn't really say much for herself, she may have been doing the exact same thing only a few minutes ago, although her eyes had been on one man in particular the entire time. She couldn't help herself, he was handsome and seeing him like this, no shirt and sweaty, well it made her imagine things that could not be spoken out loud. It was all physical, Diana had to keep remind herself everyday, knowing that it was all Yuichi wanted. And well, she didn't mind, she had her own commitment issues as it was.

Another chuckle escaped her lips, shaking her head at his words. "I'm not surprised, you seemed to be quite focused on defeating that poor soldier." It was very obvious that they were no match for Yuichi, there was something particular about the way that he fought that the soldiers were not ready for and did not know how to counter-attack. It was quite fascinating, when she thought about it, although Diana had been more focused on other things, to notice the technicalities of it all. Diana smirked at him, crossing her arms over her chest before shrugging her shoulders. "Oh yes, I very much was. I have no shame in admitting that my eyes were on a certain prince the entire time." She smirked, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked up to him. "Are you done? Or are you still going for another round?"