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x-daedalus-x · 23 hours ago

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between us and the moon.

1415 words. angst with some comfort, highly interpretive. based on jude's past records. features: child! jude jazza & kate, victor.

꒰ summary ꒱ kate gives child! jude a hug. some inspiration was taken from this fanart.

(I)

wherever he went, the moon followed.

the moonlight seemed so bright, jude couldn’t help but look down at the concrete.

today as well, the work was grueling.

but when he saw a familiar figure upon pushing the heavy door open, his heart lightened up just a little, and his features softened a tad.

“big brother, you’re home! what took ya so long?”

“took a detour.” jude collapsed on the floor, letting out a sigh.

the person before him tilted their head. “from where? goin’ through the nooks n’ crannies this time o’ night can be dangerous, ya know.”

jude closed his eyes for a moment — when he did, an image flashed in his mind.

“…today was a full moon.”

“hehe, thinkin’ ‘bout our promise? don’t go thinkin’ ‘bout breakin’ it.”

jude showed a small smile.

“…don’t matter if i gotta use money, magic, ya name it. someday, i’ll make it happen.”

——how could he not, when the image in his mind was engraved in his soul so deeply?

indeed, it was so clear, it could probably last ten thousand years.

(II)

“wow, the moon is so big…” as kate walked down the hallway, she looked out the window.

outside, the moon hung from the sky, so full and large she felt she could touch it.

“they say witchcraft’s at its strongest when the moon is at its largest.”

“eek!” kate jumped and turned around, seeing victor standing right behind her. “v-victor! don’t scare me like that!”

“haha, you must’ve been fairly out of it if you didn’t notice. bewitched by the moon tonight?”

“hm? oh, i guess…” kate’s voice trailed off as she looked back out the window.

victor’s gaze followed, his voice remaining lighthearted. “i have a tickling feeling some magic is going to happen tonight.”

kate chuckled as well at his somewhat theatric words. “what, are you holding another magic show?”

“aw, miss kate, could it be you miss my magic shows? you know i’m always happy to show you my tricks.” victor’s eyes were like crescents as he smiled, but then his expression recomposed. “…but i mean a different type of magic this time.”

“a different type?”

the corner of his lips quirked up as he brought his index finger up.

“be careful when opening doors after the clock strikes midnight. if you open the wrong door at the wrong time, i can’t guarantee you will be able to return safely until the next full moon.”

(III)

“▧▧▧▧, ya doin’ okay?”

they laid on the bed — a far cry from the energetic disposition they had just some time before.

now, coughing was a regular occurrence. sometimes, they would shiver as well.

jude held onto their hand, grasping it as tightly as his coarse fingers could.

it was as though he wanted to capture any sign of warmth.

or before that, he wanted to find a semblance of it.

“i’m…sorry…”

their voice came out as a raspy whisper before more coughing resounded in the room. the hand jude held gently held his back in a silent urge for him to relax.

although it did little to ease his mind.

after all, what they had couldn’t be treated without medicine.

and medicine costed money — more money than what he could currently make in a year, he reckoned.

jude clicked his tongue, more so annoyed at himself than anything else. but this only elicited an amused, albeit weak chuckle from his sibling.

“why so hard on yourself?” ▧▧▧▧ lifted jude’s hand, and he let them guide his hand as though they were the moon. “…you’re already like the moon to me. so that’s why…”

“▧▧▧▧…” jude’s voice trailed off, his amethyst eyes becoming more misty as he heard their voice fade into a whisper.

“that’s why…if i can stay by your side…that is more than enough.”

“then i’ll stay by your side,” jude replied, “it’s a promise ‘til the end.”

they gave jude a smile before turning their head to look up at the moon, high above the sky.

“i wonder how far the moon is,” they murmured.

jude didn’t know the answer then.

he eventually did find out —— but only when their voice faded to nothingness.

(IV)

kate couldn’t get victor’s words out of her head.

maybe he was indeed joking, but also…what if he was not? what would happen, then, were she to open a door she shouldn’t have?

sighing while mulling over her own thoughts, she turned the doorknob to her door, eager to plop onto the soft sheets of her bed, when——

“ahhh?!”

opening the door, she was greeted by a blinding light.

so bright…!

it took her a minute to adjust to her surroundings, her eyes slowly presenting her with a sight that looked somewhat familiar, but was also a far cry from her room.

“w-w-w-wha…”

the first thing she saw was a fight breaking out.

or…it wasn’t so much of a fight as it was a child, a boy who couldn’t have passed his teen years, getting beaten by some adults.

what stood out to kate was the amethyst-colored eyes this child had, which seemed to gleam with an unyielding flame of determination, only kindled by the inevitable pain.

what is going on?!

kate was bewildered, for sure, but also, she wanted to help that child as well.

her body moved on her own then.

“stop right there!!”

the child’s eyes widened, but he quickly recomposed himself. it would appear he was accustomed to such situations.

the attackers tried to retaliate, but they didn’t know that kate had a good mentor named roger when it came to the art of self defense.

when the attackers fled (not without spitting on the ground in contempt though), kate turned toward the child.

it was then she noticed his silver hair with black streaks.

“you…”

is this jude?

kate reached out to him to check to see if he was hurt, but the boy slapped her hand away, shooting kate a glare.

“i never asked for your help, ya goody two shoes.”

well, that was more than enough to answer the question that popped into her mind some mere seconds before.

(V)

who knows how much time had passed.

the first few days, kate ran into (child) jude, and he would swat her hand away, glare at her, and run off somewhere she didn’t know.

he kind of reminded her of a cat.

but as a bit more time went on, the two started making small talk.

“how long are you going to eat stale bread?”

“none o’ ya darn business.”

“actually, i think i have very valid concerns about your health, jude——ah.”

kate put her hands over her mouth, but it was too late.

jude looked at her, his brows raised.

“i didn’t tell ya my name. what does that make ya, a stalker?”

“no way!”

and, as a week passed, kate would sometimes find jude sitting on top of some burlap sacks piled on top of one another, looking up at the sky.

usually, his amethyst eyes had some fire in them, but when they looked at the moon, they seemed so dull in comparison. it was like he was deep in thought, but said thoughts weighed down on him, making him look far from a child.

one day — or one night — for the first time perhaps, jude asked kate a question.

“…how far is the moon?”

“…around 385,000 kilometers.” adult you told me at one point, after all.

jude spared kate a side glance before looking back up. “…i see.” after a pause, his next words came out in a murmur. “maybe if i met ya sooner, things would’ve been different.”

somehow, seeing his profile in the darkness, illuminated only by the silver moonlight, made him seem infinitely lonely…

and kate couldn’t help herself as she wrapped her arms around jude.

at first, he stiffened, but he didn’t push her away; he likely didn’t have much vigor to do so at this point.

no words were exchanged between them, but none were needed.

but then, another question seemingly whispered in kate’s ears.

“then, do ya think it’s possible to go to the moon?”

it seemed like a simple question, and yet at the same time so vulnerable for a reason kate didn’t know of.

“yes,” she replied after a pause, “i do.”

“hah, ya sure know how to be a goody two shoes.”

but for the first time since she came to this mysterious world, she felt arms wrap around her back.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @velisle @candiedcoffeedrops @judesmoonbeauty @.comment to be added or removed!

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x-daedalus-x · 1 day ago

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Flickering Light

Fandom: Ikemen Prince • Character Pairing: Leon Dompteur X OC (OC Named Carla) • Other Characters: Gilbert Von Obsidian, Chevalier Michel • Tags: Established Relationship; Angst; Hurt and Comfort; Angst and Feels; Memory Flashbacks (if stories featuring physical fights/abuse trigger you, don’t read); PTSD; references of slavery and refugees; Leon route spoilers • Word Count: ~2950

Synopsis: The Sunshine prince battles darkness in Obsidian with the help of his fiancé Carla. A crumbling tower triggers childhood flashbacks for Leon he’s tried to forget.

Alternate Synopsis: With the amount of trauma associated with Leon’s childhood, coupled with an inability to discuss it out loud due to circumstance and *insert hero archetype tendencies to not easily admit weakness*, I’m convinced Leon would have some significant PTSD. And memories he’s suppressed. This is a story about how he might deal with that with a loved one.

Want to learn more about Carla and Leon? Check out these stores: Seeker and Simmer

Folks Who (Might?) Appreciate This Story: @reborn-elven-spirit @candied-boys @wistfulwanderingone @x-daedalus-x @ikeprinces-stuff @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @aide-falls @animehusbandharem @the-bird-and-the-flute

…

“A rather bold request. I’d expect nothing less from his lioness.”

Leon’s arm wrapped protectively around Carla at Gilbert’s needling. She and Leon, along with Yves and King Chevalier, were in an audience room within the Obsidian Castle, serving in Rholodite’s delegation finalizing a cooperative agreement with the nation of soldiers and steel. Carla stared unblinkingly back at the world-wide disaster. “Not really. Rhodolite is about to enter a peace agreement with Obsidian. That agreement is with the country, not just you.”

“But I am Obsidian.” Gilbert tapped his ebony cane on the floor to emphasize his point. “And so are you, little cub. You’re as much Obsidian as the half-mast mongrel there.” Gilbert did not bother to contain his disdain of Yves, whose cheeks flushed irritably.

“Hey, leave my fiancé’s mother and Yves out of this. Your conversation is with me.” Leon shot a challenging glance at Gilbert. “And by the way, it’s Carla. My fiancé’s name is Carla. Not little cub.”

“Ah, so Rhodolite’s lion marks his territory.” The corner of Gilbert’s mouth quirked in amusement. “No need to roar at me.”

“I can’t really help it. She’s like the sun that I stand beneath.” Leon asserted with pride, the tension in the room lifting temporarily as he looked fondly at Carla. He turned back to Gilbert, his voice warm but with a firm edge. “So, of course I’m gonna have an opinion on how you speak with her.”

“She’d have to stand on a pretty large chair to stand beneath her. Heehee.” Yves bristled at Gilbert’s words. Carla squeezed Leon’s hand reassuringly, refusing to appear ruffled.

“Our agreement allows Rhodolite to visit medical and military facilities. I don’t see how Leon and I touring your southern regions contradicts that agreement.” Carla was taking a risk in asking, but another opportunity to freely explore Obsidian—including areas near the underground network she led for refugees escaping into Rhodolite—would not happen again soon.

“Access goes through me. Paths to freedom are available because I allow them to be. Including those near the border.” A crimson eye narrowed slightly. “Things can always be worse. Networks…vanish.” Gilbert grinned, as if he hadn’t just hinted at knowing Carla’s secret.

Who does Rhodolite belong to—the people that live there, those that wish to live there, or both? That one question from Carla before they had become a couple had expanded Leon’s perspective. And without kingly trappings ensnaring him, Leon felt emboldened to lean into that perspective through unofficial channels. Including the underground network he now helped Carla maintain. The fact that Chevalier, who sat at a nearby table surrounded by paperwork, had not interrupted thus far gave tacit leeway for Leon to continue. “The agreement is between our peoples. As such, Carla and I should get to know your people. Including those outside the Castle. We can’t exactly do that cooped up here.”

“And what is more important? Me or the people?”

“The people.” Carla and Leon spoke in unison.

“A pair as pure as ever. I just might puke.” Gilbert smirked. “A pity you wear black Prince Leon. White suits you and the little cub—ahem, I mean Lady Carla—more. Certainly, more than him.” Gilbert inclined his head towards Chevalier. “I see why you two gravitate towards one another.”

“We are like candles, each lighting the other.” Carla’s voice softened for the first time since talking with Gilbert. Leon’s hand curled towards her waist, pulling her close. “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” Leon whispered.

“Ridiculous.” A deep sigh penetrated the air. “Can we get on with negotiations?” Chevalier lifted his eyes from the stack of papers.

“Your beastly king censures you.” Gilbert sneered, tossing a rolled-up piece of parchment in Leon’s direction. “Here’s the map of our southern lands. And passes granting permission to travel there. I’m sure you’re both eager to get going.”

“Just like that?” Leon lifted an eyebrow, catching the parchment.

“I have more fun things to play with here.” Gilbert gestured to Chevalier and Yves in poorly concealed amusement. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he offered a final comment to Leon. “But remember this: Obsidian is a land known for darkness—even the brightest candles can burn out from what they see.”

…

A week had passed since Carla and Leon’s meeting with Prince Gilbert. They were well-beyond the neat and orderly confines of the capital. Towns and villages were scattered across the increasingly barren landscape, with poorly maintained roads connecting them.

The pair traveled by foot on a dusty trail, a smattering of gnarled trees dotting one side of the trail. The path meandered over mostly open land, littered with dead brush and dry grasses matted down from perpetual wind. Carla opened the map as they trekked along, head buried in the folds of paper. With a sudden THUMP, Carla found herself walking straight into the broad back of Leon.

“Oomph!” Carla rubbed her nose and took a step back. She folded the map, placing it in her travel pack. “You OK?”

Leon stood silently in the middle of the trail, a solemn gravity emanating from him. His expression was faraway and dark.

“Is anyone there?”

A tiny hand reached towards the sky. Blistered fingers grasped at the emptiness around him before curling into his dirty palm. His hand fell to his side, brushing against the immoveable boulder he was tasked to transport to the Lord’s tower. The boy’s back flinched in anticipation of the abuse his handler would reap for not moving the rock in time.

“No,” the boy murmured. “Like that’s gonna happen.” A part of him wanted to scream, but why bother.

The boy’s world tumbled into darkness. He would always be lost. Trapped. Alone. A piercing voice broke his train of thought, causing him to whip his head around.

“Leon?!”

Warm fingers grasped Leon’s hand, squeezing tightly. The faded blur of that childhood memory scattered as Carla’s fingers twined with his, anchoring him to the present. The heavy, bleaker emotions associated with the memory lingered still—clear, distinct, and real.

Carla’s eyes followed Leon as he stared intensely at the horizon. In the distance stood a dilapidated tower, crumbling with age and decay. Several sections of the tower were missing, sooty stones tossed about the ground.

“That tower. I’ve…I’ve been there before.” Leon’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper that faded into the wind.

Carla’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They were in a part of Obsidian neither had explored previously in their rescue missions. Most Rhodolite royalty had not been in Obsidian for non-war or espionage related activities for years. There was no way in which Leon could have been near this place before, unless…

Unless as a child. A slave. Carla’s eyes widened, comprehension dawning in rapid alarm. Leon’s hand Carla held became clammy, sticky with sweat. His jaw clenched, tightly ticking in a subconscious attempt to swallow the emotions burning inside. She turned her body, placing herself in front of Leon as if she could block the barrage of horrendous thoughts assaulting him.

“Leon? Leon!”

He did not hear her. Leon’s body stiffened, his free hand clinching the hem of his traveling cloak to the point that his knuckles turned white. The little boy in rags reaching towards the sky was a memory Leon’s heart refused to let go. It was an incomplete memory—one that had battered him inside for years even as he tried to shut it out. But with the tower in sight, Leon now recalled more. His eyes were distant, as if watching a scene only visible to him.

“BOY!”

His handler came rushing from the work site, face ruddy, shaking with fury. The workman did not call him by name. A name implied worth and meaning. The boy had none. The boy tried to fix an impassive mask on his features.

“I’m almost done. See? See!” The boy barely suppressed the rising warble in his voice.

Don’t show fear. Don’t show weakness. Don’t feel it. Don’t. Don’t.

The boy pushed with all his might against the boulder, his shoulders and back scraping painfully against hardened jagged edges. The rock, as if mocking him, moved a scant few inches forward before lurching back to its original spot.

“I see.” His handler rasped, eyes gleaming. “I see a need for motivation.” A massive fist came barreling from the sky.

Don’t cry out. That’ll make things worse. So, so much worse.

The boy crouched in a ball, hands covering his face in a feeble attempt to block the blow.

“Leon! Talk to me. Please.”

Carla’s voice was distant, echoing in the far reaches of Leon’s mind. Leon was crouched up against a tree, one of his hands gripping the roots of his hair. Where was he? How did he get here? He shrank into a tighter coil, bracing against an invisible threat. Leon’s golden eyes were dilated, nearly replaced with orbs of black.

“We walked away from the tower. You’re on the outskirts of a nearby forest. You’re safe.” With difficulty, Carla got Leon to a sitting position on the ground, his back leaning against the tree. His shoulders remained hunched, as if trying to make himself a smaller target.

This…this was not her Leon. Present Leon Carla corrected to herself. The charismatic hero with a ready smile carried hidden darkness that dwelled deep in his mind. She had seen similar scenes play out before with others she had rescued from Obsidian. The most innocuous objects—teapots, riding crops, a lady’s red hat—could induce terror, pull people into harrowing pasts. Carla mentally added crumbling towers to clear blue skies, raw hide whips, and the smell of pine bark as triggers for Leon.

Carla lowered herself so that she straddled Leon’s lap, her eyes the same level as his. Carla’s hands framed both sides of his face, stilling his movements so that all Leon saw was her. Leon blinked repeatedly, his shallow breathing eventually slowing, his glazed stare re-centering towards his beloved.

“Carla…”

Her name fell from his lips, half despair, half hope. Not wanting to sink deeper into darkness, Leon reached out and crushed Carla to him. He wanted to drown in her, soak into her being. His hands grasped at her curves, seeking comfort and safety.

Trauma. It was more visible to Carla than usual. Leon’s anguish was painful to witness. Leon claimed he felt nothing when he reflected on his pre-palace childhood. But Carla had never truly believed he was as numb to those experiences as he acted. His eyes had always clouded over, shadows flickering, with each person she and he helped through their underground network. Especially children. The mightier the hero, the greater the fall. Carla’s eyes watered as she sniffled loudly. Leon stopped his movements, his eyes widening at her expression.

“Leon…” She pressed her lips against his shoulder, caressing a scar so faded it was nearly invisible. Her hands grazed the contours of his upper back, fingers tracing muscles previously lanced with marks of a whip. “I’m here sweetheart.”

Emotions beyond language’s ability to express them filled Leon as he clung to her. Carla could feel the thrum of Leon’s pulse against her skin, her lips connected to him in an act as spiritual as it was physical. Her presence was life giving—to the prince he was now and the boy he was then. Carla sighed softly and leaned slightly back. She wrapped her fingers through Leon’s wind-blown locks, attempting to coax him. “Do you want to talk?”

“Of course. It’s you.”

There was sincerity in Leon’s words. “Don’t worry about me. I was just thinking earlier. That’s all.” His voice was casual, nearly dismissive. Dismissive of himself and the need to unburden his mind.

“I’m your fiancé. It’s my job to worry about you. You don’t do it enough yourself.”

The rebuttal that flitted to Leon’s lips vanished under the directness of her gaze. His eyes wavered with emotion. “I’m sorr—”

“If you say I’m sorry for the gift of knowing you—ALL of you—I’m going to have words.” Carla’s vivid blue eyes pierced straight into his soul. A wounded soul that did not know whether it was safe to reveal itself yet. “Your heart cries out even if your eyes don’t.”

Don’t cry out. It’ll be over soon.

The boy uttered not a sound, even as clinched fists and hardened boots collided against his arms and aching ribs. His handler had done this before. He knew it would happen again.

Nothing. He willed himself to feel nothing.

“You hold back. Stop carrying that weight. Let it out.” Leon flinched reflexively as fingers grazed his ribs. But these touches were light, soothing, did not batter and bash. They lingered on him, as if trying to lance away the pain he held onto.

Pain. He learned to live with it. Numbness and resilience intersecting into a blur. A blur that had him drowning on dry land. But now he sought air.

Leon let out a shaky breath. “I…I was here.” Another breath. “I looked at the sky. I couldn’t move a rock.” Another breath. “And then…fists came down.”

Love—an emotion so sweet yet fragile. Something to protect and be protective over. Driven by the force of that emotion, Carla threw her arms around Leon, cradling his head to her as he shook uncontrollably.

He felt everything. Everything he had suppressed most of his life. Words tumbled out of him, nightmarish memories crowding his mind as rapid fire as fists from the sky.

“Please. Please. PLEASE. STOP!”

He screamed—for all the times he had not.

“STOP!” Leon screamed repeatedly into Carla’s shoulder, raw, sharply piercing. The roar of a wounded beast and a terrified boy tangled into one. Leon winced repeatedly, as if struck by repeated blows. Carla curled herself around him, clinging tightly over him, her body shielding him from his handler, the looming tower, everything. He shuddered for what seemed like an eternity, gasping for breath, voice cracking. “STOP…stop…please.”

And then, startling silence.

The boy laid down in the mud. The air was empty, devoid of the faintest warmth. The taste of iron trickled down his cheek from a gash near his temple. His handler was gone, having made his point.

Ache. His body ached. His heart throbbed, whether with pain or resignation he did not know. A loneliness surrounded him that ached even more.

Another slave, trained in rudimentary medics, eventually came by to treat the boy’s wounds. The boy remained face down in the mud, barely moving.

“Some people scream so loud anyone can hear’em. Wail like babies even.” A glob of ointment, thick and gloopy, was roughly rubbed on the boy’s shoulders. “You kid? You scream in silence.”

To know another’s pain, to be allowed to see it and witness its vulnerability was a humbling experience. The air was still, as if recognizing the significance of the moment.

“It’s not OK what happened to you. All of it.”

A painful pressure squeezed the breath from Leon’s lungs and then released at Carla’s words. He had never heard that—an acknowledgement of what he went through, the wrongness of it all. His brothers now knew of his past, but it was never spoken of—a buried truth, an unofficial price for maintaining his status as fourth prince. The silence of it all was too much.

The boy was too tired to scream.

And yet. A faint flicker within his heart refused to die out.

He lifted his head from the mud.

“If I were in trouble, what would you do?” The words were barely audible, mumbled into Carla’s shoulder. Leon slowly raised his head. I don’t need fixing his golden eyes seemed to plead; I need…I need…

“I’d help you.”

Help. Understanding. “Regardless of who I am?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words escaped him.

“I love you. All of you: past and present; pauper and prince; perfect and pained.” Her voice flowed with affection and compassion. “You speak as if the boy you were before should be gone, forever erased. The echo of him remains, buried inside, guiding you. And I am grateful that boy is still there wanting to be seen and heard.”

Carla cupped a hand to Leon’s cheek, gently encouraging him to look at her. “That boy has made you who you are. You are a man who has witnessed darkness but carries light for Rhodolite. You have walked out of fire but come back with water for those that are still in flames, seeking help within our underground network. You show compassion because that boy knows what is like to have had none.”

Her words seeped into his being. Love touched every fractured piece of Leon, mending him back together. “So yes, I’d help you. Because I love you. And because you’ve looked pain in the eye, and you’ve stared back with love—love for your country, your brothers, your people.”

“And you.” Leon was filled with searing warmth. “Especially you. More than anything.” Amber eyes radiated hope again.

“I would hope so, considering we’re engaged.” Carla smiled slightly.

His heart squeezed at her teasing words. “You move me so much Carla, it’s almost absurd.” He clasped her to his chest, squeezing tight. “Thank you.”

A hand reached for the sky.

Is anyone there?

“You’re not alone.” Carla’s hand was steady as Leon reached for it. Her fingers grasped his, twining together. An unspoken promise to never let go.

“We are candles, each lighting the other.” Carla repeated the words she had spoken to Gilbert. “And I will light your way through the dark.”

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x-daedalus-x · 2 days ago

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The Past Records: Jude Jazza Event Announcement

The event begins 11/22/24 at 12 pm JST.

Accumulative bonuses:

Receive collection notices from Jude

570 clear bonus card

Child sprite cards, badge explaining the nature of Jude’s relationship with each villain, and other avatar bonuses.

Top 100 receives sprites hugging a chibi Jude with different expressions.

And a bonus story of Jude’s POV about his love story with Kate.

Fever Time schedule will include triple time!

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x-daedalus-x · 2 days ago

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1 MORE DAY JUDE NATION!!!

This has been the longest week ever!

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x-daedalus-x · 3 days ago

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Kagari Amagase:

Entangled Threads and Hidden Allures

It was a calm afternoon, enveloped in the fleeting scent of cherry blossoms.

I couldn't help but call out to Prince Kagari as he passed by.

Emma: "Prince Kagari, do you have the day off today?"

Kagari: "Yeah, how did you know?"

Emma: "You're not wearing your usual clothes."

Kagari: "Ah, I see. You haven't seen this yet, have you? I often wear these when I'm not at official or social events."

(So his casual clothes look like this. They look comfortable.)

Unlike his usual refined and elegant attire, today he wore something more relaxed, in a subdued color with a looser fit and an open collar.

Maybe it was because I'd always seen him looking so polished, but I found Prince Kagari’s casual look a bit cute.

(Even though it's just a change of clothes, it feels like I'm seeing a new side of him.)

Kagari: "…"

Suddenly, our eyes met, and for some reason, Prince Kagari spread his arms and spun around on the spot.

Kagari: "Since you were staring, I’ll give you a little show, Curious Princess."

Emma: "Um… thank you?"

(Actually, I was just admiring how he looks in that outfit, but it's kind of embarrassing to say it out loud.)

Kagari: "So, were you here under the cherry blossoms, enjoying a quiet little flower viewing by yourself?”

Emma: "Yes. I was also practicing cat’s cradle a little while ago."

Kagari: "Cat’s cradle?"

I picked up the looped red string resting on my lap.

Emma: "Your aide, Shigure, taught me how to do it. He said I might get bored just looking at the flowers."

Emma: "He even gave me this string."

Kagari: "…Really."

(…Huh?)

Kagari: "That string is usually used to tie up packages at a confectionery shop. Looks like he gave you some trash."

Emma: "Tra–"

Kagari: "Don’t take it too seriously; I was half-joking. I often use that string for cat’s cradle myself too."

(I think his words might be true though… I DID notice that Shigure had some snacks with him.)

Kagari: "How many patterns have you learned?"

Emma: "Three! May I show you?"

Kagari: "Sure, go ahead."

He sat down in front of me with his legs crossed the unexpected closeness making me stiffen.

Prince Kagari sometimes has an odd sense of personal space.

(I don’t think he’s like this with anyone else, though...)

Trying to stay calm, I spread the string, recalling the steps as I began to create each shape.

Emma: "The first one is... a cradle!"

Kagari: "A cradle, huh."

Emma: "Next... this is a rice field!"

Kagari: "A rice field."

Emma: “And now… the jewel… um, let me see...”

Kagari: "…Your pinkies."

Emma: “Oh, right! Hook the pinkies… release the thumbs… and it’s a jewel!”

Kagari: “You pass.”

Kagari: "But you look tired Princess, even though you’re just playing cat’s cradle."

Emma: “I don’t usually use my fingers this much, so it’s actually a good workout.”

Kagari: “They say cat’s cradle is a great exercise for both the fingers and the mind.”

Kagari: “Your movements are still a bit clumsy, but you did well for your first time.”

(It makes me so happy to be praised by Prince Kagari …)

Kagari: “The next trick after the jewel is the drum. Want to give it a try?”

Emma: “I’d love to!”

When I nodded, Prince Kagari touched my hands and began to move his fingers slowly, making it easy for me to follow along.

Kagari: "Keep the shape as it is. First, move only your thumbs and slip them into the gap under your pinkies."

Emma: "…Okay."

(Oh… since he's not wearing his usual outfit, he's also not wearing gloves today.)

His hands, normally hidden by gloves, were surprisingly large, easily enveloping mine. They were firm, bony, and warm—enough to make me fully aware of him as a man, causing heat to rise to my cheeks.

(I need to focus since he’s teaching me.)

Kagari: “—Finally, hook the opposite string around your pinky and open your hands.”

Emma: “...There! I did the drum!”

Kagari: "Your finger movements were smooth. A gold star for you."

As Prince Kagari released my hands, I felt a strange, fleeting sadness—though it was probably just my imagination.

Kagari: "Are you feeling more tired than before, Princess?"

Emma: "It's probably because it was my first time trying the drum."

Emma: "Cat’s cradle is really fun. It helps improve my dexterity, and seems like a good way to sharpen my concentration."

Emma: “I heard that most of the children in Kougyoku know how to play cat’s cradle. Did you play it a lot too, Prince Kagari?”

Kagari: “...Yeah. My brother taught me.”

His gaze suddenly shifted toward the drum made of red string. His emerald-green eyes seemed to waver slightly, as if reminiscing about something.

(Kougyoku’s territory is roughly divided into three factions.)

(Prince Kagari and his brother belonged to different factions, if I remember correctly.)

(I don’t know how things are between them now, but I wonder if they used to be close brothers in the past.)

Kagari: “Princess, did you know that cat’s cradle can be played with two people?”

Emma: “Yes, I played together with Shigure earlier.”

Kagari: “...Is that so?”

Emma: (...?)

Kagari: “What about with me?”

(Does he want to play?)

Emma: “If you’re willing, I’d love to.”

Kagari: “Let’s do it.”

(So he DID want to play.)

(I understand the feeling, though. Childhood games can make you feel so nostalgic when you play them again.)

Seeing how much Prince Kagari enjoying cat’s cradle made me smile. We returned the string to a loop, and I created a suspension bridge, while Prince Kagari deftly made a rice field. Then I created a river, he made a boat, and as we continued to take turns—

(What… is this?)

Kagari: “What’s wrong, Princess? Did you forget the next step?”

Emma: “I’m sorry, I thought the next pattern would be the jewel, but the shape looks different, so I don’t know how to continue…"

(It looks like it could be a rice field or a net, but it’s slightly different. I’ve never seen this shape before.)

Kagari: “If you don’t know, that’s fine. First, pinch the ends of the string.”

Emma: “Got it.”

Kagari: “Now, insert your hands into the gap in the middle, up to your wrists.”

Emma: “Alright, done.”

Kagari: “Next, I’ll pull the string from one hand and use the other to tug the string hooked around your middle finger.”

Kagari: “That way, both of your hands will be tied together.”

Emma: “Wow! It really worked!”

(...Wait--)

I never expected to go from playing cat’s cradle to being tied up like a captive.

Prince Kagari hooked his finger around the string and gently pulled me closer.

Kagari: “If you let your guard down too much in front of a man, you’ll find yourself bound and helpless in an instant. Remember that.”

Emma: "Sure… but I only let my guard down because it's you, Prince Kagari. I don't do this with anyone else."

Kagari: "…I see. Only with me, huh?"

Kagari: "Good, then. Don’t forget that feeling in the future."

(Did his mood just improve a little? His expression didn’t change, so maybe it's just my imagination.)

Emma: "So, how do I get out of this…?"

Kagari: "Think of it as practice for the future and try untying it yourself. It’s not tied too tightly."

(I’ll give it a try, but…. I hope I never need this skill in the future.)

Thankfully, the knot wasn’t too tight, and under Prince Kagari’s watchful eye, I managed to untie it. He clapped his hands in applause, though I wasn’t sure if I should be happy about it.

(Was I really that careless…?)

But I didn’t want to end things just like that—

Emma: "Prince Kagari, can we play one more time?"

Kagari: "Sure."

We returned to making the suspension bridge, then the rice field, river, and boat, alternating turns with the string—

(This is it…!)

Seizing the moment, I tied Prince Kagari’s hands together with the string. My tying was a bit of a mess, but it seemed tight enough that it would take a while to untangle.

Kagari: "…"

Emma: "Ha! That was payback for earlier."

Emma: "Now, you’ll have to untie yourself—whoa!?"

Kagari: "Untie myself… What? I didn’t quite catch that. Could you say that again?"

(He’s… so close!)

With his bound hands, he brought them behind my head and pulled me closer to him. The distance between us made it hard to even breathe, and my heart pounded furiously.

(Prince Kagari … seems to be enjoying this. Even more than when we were playing cat’s cradle.)

His green eyes, tinged with joy and a trace of heat, were so captivating that I couldn’t look away, despite wanting to escape. Whenever I moved, his grip tightened, further restricting my freedom.

Kagari: "Come on, if you don’t say it, we’ll stay like this forever. I don’t mind that, though."

Emma: "I’m sorry! I got carried away. I’ll treat you to as many dorayaki as you want, so please let me go."

Kagari: "Denied. You don’t have enough money for that."

(A man with a bottomless stomach for dorayaki!)

As our foreheads lightly touched, my heart practically leaped out of my chest. If anyone saw us like this, they would definitely get the wrong idea.

Kagari: "Your so flustered just from our faces being close. It’s cute, Princess."

Emma: "P-Please stop teasing me."

Kagari: "I’m not teasing you."

Kagari: "…But I was a little jealous."

Even though I kept trying to escape, he never let me go, and—

On that day, I firmly swore to never try to get back at Prince Kagari again.

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