Moonlight streamed through the high palace walls, silvering the stone paths and casting soft glows on the trimmed hedges. The palace grounds were silent, save for the distant chirping of crickets. A faint rustle broke the stillness near the base of the northern wall, behind a covered arch hidden by creeping vines.
The shadows shifted and from them emerged The Crown Prince, brushing leaves from his cloak as he stood and straightened. But just as he exhaled in relief, his body froze.
A presence.
He felt it—cool, still, expectant. He slowly turned, already lifting a hand to his face with a sigh.
"I can explain."
A flat voice followed immediately, unimpressed.
"Yes, I'm waiting."
Daita stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable. His eyes flickered between Akira's tousled hair and muddied boots, then settled on his face like a silent judgment.
Akira scratched the back of his neck, offering a sheepish smile. "Well… I just— went out to—"
Daita raised an eyebrow. "Didn't the Crown Prince already prepare an excuse beforehand? Why am I seeing him struggle now? I thought he was an expert in these… escapades."
"Daita… come on." Akira stepped forward, his voice a mixture of pleading and playful guilt. "It's not like I committed a crime."
Daita didn't budge. "Akira, you clearly know that sneaking out of the palace grounds without His Majesty's permission isn't less than a crime. Especially for you."
Akira clicked his tongue and placed a hand on Daita's shoulder. "I know but…why should I fear, when you, my loyal friend, are here to clean up after me? You could easily convince His Majesty… again."
Daita gave him a sharp look, unamused. "I'm not taking your side this time. He already warned me—again to stay away from you. And I somehow convinced him. And for that," he leaned in slightly, "you chose this exact time to sneak out again?"
Akira tried a grin, but Daita wasn't done.
"Well…?" Daita asked tightly. "What was this oh-so-important reason?"
Akira's grin faded a little. A moment passed.
"I can't tell you," he said quietly. "It's a secret."
Daita rolled his eyes and shoved him aside with a scoff. "Just tell me this—how many secrets do you even have?"
Akira caught his balance and smirked, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "That's a secret too."
"Akira, you know what? You're unpredictable!" Daita threw up his hands in mock frustration.
Akira shrugged casually, then tilted his head and offered a faint smile.
"Now why are you smiling?" Daita asked, narrowing his eyes. "That wasn't a compliment—it was a complaint."
Akira chuckled softly as they began to walk side by side under the moonlit path. "You're starting to sound like your sister."
"Really? I'm sounding like her? Wait… which one?" Daita asked, squinting suspiciously.
"That," Akira said, grinning, "you should figure out for yourself."
Daita shook his head, mumbling under his breath, before going quiet for a moment. Then, with a small sigh, he muttered, "I guess it's Daiyuri… I don't think the fourth princess has ever spoken to you properly anyway."
"Maybe…" Akira's voice softened, face lifted toward the sky. "Because….Among all of my six cousins, only you are good to me."
Daita stopped mid-step, turning back with a stiff expression. "Crown Prince," he said, his voice suddenly sharp, "just… don't call me your cousin."
"I'm just your friend. Even though I'm the seventh prince, I don't have royal blood in my veins. Don't forget….I was just adopted by your uncle. I don't belong to the palace."
Saying that, Daita quickened his pace, his shoulders tense, walking ahead. Akira stood there a moment, Then, he whispered something soft so quiet it was almost lost to the night.
"Why did Uncle decide to adopt a stranger child?"
He tilted his head, a faint grin forming.
"…and even gave him the title of Seventh Prince?"
————————
Astra sat cross-legged on the bed, half her clothes already packed and the other half scattered like a whirlwind had passed through. She stared at a bundle of hairpins in her hand, muttering to herself.
"Fourteen… fifteen… seventeen… no, wait. That was the same one twice! Ugh! I swear I had seventeen! Where's the butterfly one?! I swear someone's stealing my pins!"
On the other side of the room, Seirou and Seiya were in their usual chaos. Seiya waved a fan while Seirou held up a half-torn scroll.
"It was just a napkin!" Seiya argued, pointing. "That was not a napkin! That was a prayer scroll from the South Shrine!" Seirou snapped back.
"You shouldn't leave holy scrolls lying near the food tray then!"
Across from them, Shion sat stiffly in a chair, cotton stuffed in both ears. His arms were folded, eyes shut, pretending to meditate. though his eye twitched every few seconds.
"Can one of you help me find my hairpin? Two of them are missing." She held up three fingers.
Seiya stopped mid-step, stared, then face-palmed so hard the sound echoed. "Astra, can you please fix this eternal curse of yours called 'wrong counting'? You will be twenty and still can't count to three without confusing the universe."
Astra rolled her eyes with a scoff, while Seirou without even looking up from where he was fixing his scroll added flatly, "I once made her count from one to ten. She skipped six and added sixteen. Gave up after that."
"You said there'd be sweets after practice! I was distracted!" Astra snapped, standing up dramatically on the bed with her hands on her hips like an angry sparrow. "And anyway…Seiya! I know it's you!"
Seiya blinked innocently. "Me, what?"
"You stole my butterfly hairpin!"
"Why would I steal your hairpin? Do I look like I'd wear butterflies?!"
Astra narrowed her eyes, her tone deadly serious.
"But you are obsessed with shimmering things, don't you? And my butterfly pin shimmered!"
Seiya scoffed. "I don't like them that much to steal them. And even if I did… which I don't. I would never steal yours! I have taste, you know."
Shion, still valiantly sitting in the chair, cracked one eye open.
Shion, still valiantly sitting in the chair, cracked one eye open, his cotton-stuffed ears twitching. "If you all don't stop in the next five seconds, I'm going to staple your mouths shut."
"I still think Seiya took them," Astra huffed.
Seiya gasped, clutching his chest. "Again with the accusations! Astra, if you keep acting like this, we don't even need to go to the capital to break your curse. Just stay like this and any nearby ghosts will run away to save their poor dead souls!"
Seirou tried…really tried—not to laugh, but a loud snort escaped. "That's… that's not even wrong!"
Astra grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him. "You traitor!"
"Me?!" Seirou waved his hands, still laughing, just in time to catch the second pillow with his face. "Oi!"
"Hit him again!" Seiya cheered right before the next pillow smacked him square in the face.
"How dare you!" He picked it up and flung it back at Astra, who dodged with a mischievous smirk.
"Missed!" she teased, only to be ambushed by a flying pillow from Seirou.
"How's that!?" he grinned.
"You—!"
And just like that, it devolved into full-blown chaos. Pillows soared through the air, a bundle of clothes tumbled off the shelf, someone knocked over a water jug, and Astra was crawling across the bed like a warrior charging into battle.
Shion sat frozen in the chair, eyes squeezed shut, cotton mashed into his ears, whispering to himself, "I am at peace… I am not here… I am a cloud…"
Whack!
A rogue pillow smacked him on the head.
That was it.
He stood up with the calm fury of a man who had tried to resist—but failed. "Fine. If we're doing this—"
He snatched a pillow and launched it. And the room became instantly became a warzone of fluff and yells.
Right at that moment—THUD!
The door slid open with a sharp slam, and Everyone froze mid-action. Ryoma stood in the doorway, eyes scanning the disaster scene. His expression remained unreadable.
Astra was halfway under the bed, Seiya had Seirou in a headlock with a fan, and Shion had buried himself under a blanket mountain.
Ryoma let out a long, heavy sigh… then slowly slid the door shut again without saying a word.
The room fell into silence.
"…I think we disappointed him again," Seiya whispered.