Extra: Hiroshi and Haru
Haru, the crowned prince of the empire, walked through the streets in disguise, wearing a simple cloak to hide his identity. It wasn't his first time sneaking out of the palace, but this time felt different. He had no destination in mind—just a desire to see the world beyond the palace walls.
As he wandered through the marketplace and down the stone-paved roads, he eventually reached a quiet part of the kingdom. The air smelled of fresh grass and blooming flowers, a peaceful place untouched by politics or duty.
That's when he saw him. A young man sat under a large willow tree, completely focused on his painting. His long, dark hair swayed with the breeze, and the golden light of the setting sun highlighted his soft features. His eyes, filled with quiet concentration, followed each stroke of paint as if capturing something only he could see.
Haru stopped in his tracks, completely mesmerized. He had never seen anyone like him before. Everything around him seemed to fade, and his heart pounded in his chest.
Love at first sight? The thought seemed ridiculous. But deep inside, Haru knew—something had changed. From that day on, Haru found himself sneaking out of the palace almost every day just to see Hiroshi.
At first, he told himself it was just curiosity. He admired Hiroshi's skill, the way his brush moved with such precision and emotion. But as time passed, he realized it was more than that. Hiroshi had become his escape, a source of peace in his suffocating life as a prince.
But one day, when Haru arrived at the willow tree, Hiroshi wasn't there. His chest tightened as he looked around, hoping to see Hiroshi painting. But he was nowhere to be found. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed something in the distance—a figure lying in the grass. His heart dropped.
Haru ran toward him, his breath catching when he saw Hiroshi unconscious, bruised, and covered in dirt.
Anger and panic surged through him as he carefully lifted Hiroshi into his arms. Without hesitation, he carried him back to the palace, ignoring the shocked looks from the guards and servants.
"Treat him," Haru ordered. "Make sure he recovers fully. I want a full report on his injuries." As the royal physicians and maids tended to Hiroshi, Haru called one of his knights.
"Find out who did this," he said coldly. "And bring them to me." While waiting for Hiroshi to wake up, Haru sat by his bedside, watching over him. His anger remained, but deep down, he felt something else—guilt, sadness, and the painful realization that he hated seeing Hiroshi suffer.
Finally, Hiroshi stirred, slowly opening his eyes. "Hiroshi," Haru murmured.
The painter blinked in confusion, looking around before meeting Haru's gaze. "Where...?"
"You're safe," Haru said. "You were hurt. I brought you here."
Hiroshi winced as he tried to sit up. "You... brought me here?" Haru hesitated before finally speaking the truth. "My name is Haru," he said. "Haru Lian Vermillion—the prince of this empire." Hiroshi's eyes widened.
Silence filled the room before Haru spoke again, this time with deep sincerity. "Stay with me."
Hiroshi looked shocked. "What...?"
"I want you to live here, in the palace," Haru continued. "I'll make sure you're safe. You won't have to suffer again." Hiroshi hesitated. "I... I don't belong here. You're a prince, and I'm just a painter. I can't—"
"I don't care about that," Haru interrupted. "You mean more to me than any title or status. Please... let me take care of you." Hiroshi looked away, uncertainty on his face. Haru reached out and gently held his hand. "I promise, no one will ever hurt you again."
Hiroshi furrowed his brows, thinking about everything Haru had said. But there was one thing that bothered him. "How do you even know my name?" he asked.
Haru leaned back. "I had someone investigate what happened to you." Hiroshi tensed. "And?" he asked quietly. Haru's expression darkened. "We found out about your stepfather." The room suddenly felt colder.
Hiroshi stiffened. His past was something he never wanted to be exposed. Haru's voice was low and dangerous. "That man... he's been cruel to you for years, hasn't he?"
Hiroshi clenched his fists, saying nothing. But his silence was enough. Haru exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the armrest. "I made sure he paid for it."
Hiroshi glanced up at him, eyes wide. Haru wasn't just angry—he was furious. His golden eyes burned with power, and his presence felt commanding, even terrifying. For the first time, Hiroshi saw this side of him. And yet... he wasn't scared. Just surprised.
This prince had taken revenge for him? "You... really did that?" Hiroshi asked.
Haru met his gaze. "No one hurts what's mine and gets away with it." Hiroshi flinched at the possessiveness in his tone. A long pause followed before Hiroshi finally let out a sigh. "...Fine."
Haru raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"
"I'll stay," Hiroshi said. "I'll live in the palace." Haru's eyes softened, but before he could respond, Hiroshi held up a finger.
"But," Hiroshi added, "on one condition." Haru's expression turned serious. "And that is?"
"I'll only be one of your subjects," Hiroshi said firmly. "Nothing more, nothing less." Silence.
Haru narrowed his eyes, tapping his fingers on the chair's armrest. He didn't like that condition. But then, a smirk appeared on his lips. If that's how Hiroshi wanted to start, so be it. For now.
"Alright," Haru agreed. Hiroshi sighed in relief. Haru watched Hiroshi turn away with a quiet scoff. A small smile formed on his lips as he leaned back. He didn't need to say it out loud, but in his heart, he knew—this was just the beginning.
**********
Under the soft glow of the moon, the royal garden was calm and peaceful. The scent of blooming flowers filled the cool night air. Everything was quiet, untouched by the busy life of the palace.
In the middle of it all stood Hiroshi. Haru had been searching for him, and seeing him there—so still, so lost in thought—filled him with warmth. Hiroshi wasn't doing anything special. He simply leaned down, brushing his fingers over the petals of a flower and closing his eyes as he took in its scent. His usual guarded expression was gone, replaced by something softer, more at ease.
Haru smiled to himself. He couldn't resist. Moving silently, he stepped forward, using his years of stealth training to go unnoticed. Then, standing just behind Hiroshi, he leaned in slightly and whispered, "Does it smell that good?"
Hiroshi flinched, nearly dropping the flower. "P-Prince Haru?!" He turned quickly, eyes wide with surprise. Before he could step away, Haru had already moved closer.
Too close. With Hiroshi now cornered between the flower bushes and himself, Haru grinned. "You always look cute when you're startled."
Hiroshi clicked his tongue and looked away, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "Stop sneaking up on me like that. It's annoying."
Haru chuckled. "If it's so annoying, then why have you never pushed me away?" Hiroshi tensed. He knew Haru was right. No matter how many times Haru got close, he had never been able to stop him. Whether it was the warmth of his touch or the strange sense of comfort he brought, Hiroshi always froze. And Haru knew it.
The prince reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Hiroshi's ear. His fingers lingered for a moment before gently tilting his chin up. "You're beautiful," Haru murmured, his voice deep and sincere.
Hiroshi's breath caught. There it was again—that overwhelming presence, the way Haru made it impossible to think straight. "I'm leaving," Hiroshi muttered, stepping to the side.
Before he could go, Haru caught his wrist, holding him back just slightly. "Stay with me a little longer," Haru said softly. Hiroshi's heart pounded. This man was dangerous.
But even though he knew he should walk away—he didn't. The space between them felt heavy, filled with emotions they had both avoided for too long. Haru's grip on Hiroshi's wrist tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to stop him from slipping away.
Hiroshi swallowed hard. "Prince Haru... let go."
"No," Haru whispered, stepping closer. His golden eyes were filled with emotion. "Not this time." Hiroshi froze.
"I love you, Hiroshi," Haru said, his voice steady. "From the moment I saw you, I've loved you. And every day since, that love has only grown stronger." Hiroshi's breath caught. Deep down, he had always known. But hearing it said so clearly made his defenses weaken.
"Haru..." His voice was soft, filled with hesitation and longing.
"I know you feel the same," Haru continued, gently cupping Hiroshi's face. His thumb brushed against his cheek with care. "You wouldn't have stayed with me if you didn't." Hiroshi clenched his fists. "I... I was scared."
Haru's expression softened. "You don't have to be." For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, as if something inside him finally broke free, Hiroshi gripped Haru's robe tightly. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "Then don't ever let me go."
A slow, warm smile spread across Haru's lips. "Never." And with that, he pulled Hiroshi into a deep, tender kiss. It was filled with everything they had held back—love, longing, and quiet reassurance. Hiroshi melted into the embrace, finally allowing himself to accept Haru's love.
Months passed, and their bond only grew stronger. With the emperor's blessing, news of their engagement spread throughout the kingdom. Haru's family welcomed Hiroshi with open arms, celebrating their love. But not everyone was happy. The nobles protested. They claimed Hiroshi was just a commoner, unworthy of standing beside the future emperor. But Haru silenced them with a single statement: "Hiroshi is the only one who will stand by my side. Whether you accept it or not, he is mine, and I am his."
His words left no room for argument. In the end, the nobles had no choice but to back down. Haru and Hiroshi's love had won.
**********
The days Haru spent with Hiroshi were the happiest of his life. They were always together—walking through the palace halls, sitting in the gardens where they had confessed their love, or lying side by side late at night when Haru would sneak into Hiroshi's room just to hold him close. But happiness never lasted long in a world ruled by power and greed.
The nobles were furious that a commoner had won the heart of the empire's beloved prince. They saw Hiroshi as a disgrace, an obstacle in their way. Haru knew they were plotting something. He tried to stop them, tried to protect Hiroshi, but even his power had limits.
Then, one night, everything fell apart. The nobles made their move. Hiroshi was ambushed in the palace gardens—the very place where they had once promised to stay together forever.
By the time Haru arrived, it was too late. Blood stained the ground. Hiroshi lay still, his warm, gentle eyes now empty. Haru froze, unable to believe what he was seeing.
"No..." His voice was barely a whisper. His legs gave out as he collapsed beside Hiroshi, his trembling hands reaching out to touch his face. He was still warm.
"Hiroshi..." Haru's voice broke. "Wake up." There was no response. Tears blurred his vision. Then, the rage came. A deep, burning fury unlike anything he had ever felt before.
He turned to the nobles standing nearby, their smirking faces filled with cruel satisfaction. That was their last mistake. With a flick of his wrist, the ground cracked beneath them. The palace trembled as Haru's power surged like a raging storm. Then came the slaughter.
He tore through them like a god of vengeance, merciless and unstoppable. He did not listen to their screams. He did not care about their pleas. He wanted them to suffer. And they did.
The massacre ended only when no one was left alive. Haru stood in the silence, his body covered in blood, his breath ragged. His father, the emperor, watched in horror. But Haru did not care. Nothing mattered anymore. Not without Hiroshi.
With heavy steps, he returned to where his beloved lay. Kneeling beside him, Haru gently brushed a strand of hair from Hiroshi's face, his fingers shaking. He pressed his forehead against Hiroshi's, his tears falling freely.
"I promised," he whispered. "I promised I would never let you go." A bitter laugh escaped his lips, filled with pain. "But I failed you."
His grip tightened around the dagger at his waist. Without hesitation, he plunged it into his chest. Pain spread through his body, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness in his heart.
As the darkness closed in, he used his last strength to pull Hiroshi into his arms. With one final breath, he whispered—
"We'll meet again... no matter how long it takes." And then, Prince Haru, the empire's golden heir, was no more.
**********
Travis
Lying in bed with Hiro in my arms felt unreal. After everything we had been through, after the tearful reunion that left us breathless, I finally had him here—safe, warm, and close.
His steady breathing filled the quiet room, his body relaxed against mine. I watched the way his chest rose and fell, the peaceful expression on his face as he slept. It was rare to see him like this—unguarded, free from worries.
I couldn't help myself. Gently, I brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, my fingers trailing softly down his cheek. A warmth spread in my chest as I leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his forehead.
He stirred slightly, his lashes fluttering before his eyes slowly opened. Sleepy but bright, they met mine, and a small smile tugged at his lips.
"Good morning, Travis," he murmured, his voice still laced with drowsiness.
Before I could respond, he pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me tightly, burying his face against my chest. I let out a soft chuckle, tightening my hold around him. "Morning, Hiro," I whispered against his hair. I didn't need anything else in this moment. Just him, here with me.
I smiled as Hiro nuzzled closer, clearly not ready to get up. His warmth, his presence—it was almost enough to make me forget about everything else. Almost.
With a soft chuckle, I nudged him lightly. "Come on, Hiro. We still have class."
At that, he suddenly bolted upright, his eyes widening in realization. "Oh crap!"
I laughed at his reaction, but the excitement quickly faded from his face. His shoulders slumped, and he gave me a small, almost pleading look.
"But... I still want to be with you," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
My heart clenched at the way he said it—so soft, so vulnerable. Without a second thought, I reached for his hand, bringing it to my lips and pressing a gentle kiss against his skin.
"Let's go on a date after class," I offered, watching as his expression slowly brightened. "How about it?"
Hiro's lips curled into a soft smile, and he gave a small nod. That was all I needed.
Without warning, I pulled him closer and kissed him.
Hiro let out a surprised noise against my lips, his body tensing for a second before melting into the kiss. But as soon as we parted, he huffed and lightly punched my shoulder, his face flushed.
"You idiot! I wasn't ready," he pouted. "I didn't even brush my teeth yet."
I couldn't help but laugh, finding his reaction absolutely adorable. "I don't care," I teased. "You're cute either way." Hiro groaned, covering his face with his hands, but I could see the small smile peeking through.
Yeah, this was definitely the best way to start the morning.
**********
Someone
The gentleman carefully arranged the books on the shelf, his fingertips brushing over their spines. Some were worn with age, their covers faded, while others were newer, their bindings still stiff. The soft glow of the library lamps cast long shadows across the room, giving it a warm and peaceful feel.
As he worked, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Without needing to turn around, a small smile formed on his lips.
"How did it go?" he asked in a calm and gentle voice.
A young boy, no older than ten, stepped into the room. His bright eyes wandered across the endless rows of books before settling on a particular shelf. There, sitting side by side, were two books—newly placed, yet already feeling like they belonged together.
"It happened just like you said it would, Master," the boy answered quietly.
The gentleman let out a small chuckle, closing the book he had been holding. "So, they've finally found their way back to each other," he mused, a satisfied warmth in his tone.
After a brief pause, he reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a plush teddy bear. Its fur was snowy white, and a delicate clock design was stitched onto its belly. Without hesitation, he tossed it toward the boy, who caught it with a surprised look.
"Help me deliver this to its new owner, will you?" the gentleman said with a knowing smile.
The boy blinked in confusion at first, staring at the stuffed bear in his hands. But then, his gaze shifted to a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on the table beside him. Understanding dawned on his face, and he gave a firm nod.
"Alright, Master."
Carefully cradling the bear in one arm, he picked up the box and turned to leave.
The gentleman watched him go, his smile never fading. Slowly, he turned his attention back to the bookshelf, his eyes lingering on the two books resting together.
With a quiet sigh, he stepped out of the room, murmuring softly to himself,
"I wonder what choices they will make this time."
The End