Astra still grinning from Seiya's defeat, when Seirou suddenly stood up without discussing with his team.
"I choose Astra," he said casually, already walking over.
"Huh? Me?" Astra blinked but stood anyway.
Seirou leaned in and whispered the word quietly in her ear.
Astra frowned, confused. She repeated the word in her head but couldn't picture it clearly. "Huh… what's that? it sounds familiar." she murmured, trying to tug at her messy memory. Still, she stepped forward and started imitating anyway wild, vague movements.
Shion squinted. "Wait… is it another dragon?"
Astra nodded frantically, still making exaggerated gestures that didn't help at all.
Seiya raised an eyebrow and nudged Seirou. "What did you give her? Because she looks like she's summoning a spirit."
Seirou simply shrugged, watching Astra with faint amusement. Ryoma, arms crossed, watched silently with a glint of suspicion.
Kaen and Shion exchanged glances, thinking hard as Astra started waving her arms like wings though even she looked unsure of what she was doing.
"Only one guess left," Kaen muttered under his breath.
Astra started panicking, biting her lip.
Just then, Xue quietly reached over and tugged on Shion's sleeve. When Shion looked down, Xue gently took his palm and began tracing letters with his finger. Shion blinked. "Huh?" Then muttered under his breath, "That dragon…?"
He looked up. "…Ryuzan?"
Astra's eyes lit up, finger shooting toward him. "YES! That's it!"
Ryoma and Kaen slowly turned their heads toward Seirou in perfect sync, eyes narrowing with suspicion, their glares sharp enough to cut stone. Seirou gave an awkward smile, scratching the back of his neck. "What? I thought she wouldn't remember it anyway."
Astra crossed her arms, eyes narrowing slightly. "Who said I don't? I remember it clearly. I didn't forget. I know what that dragon is and who it belongs to."
A heavy silence fell.
Ryoma and Kaen's eyes widened in unison, horror flashing across their faces like they'd just heard something they were never meant to. Kaen stood up sharply, fists clenched.
"You remember?! How do you know that?" he demanded, voice tight.
Everyone turned to look at him in confusion, except Ryoma who remained seated, stiff and utterly still, eyes locked on Astra.
Astra blinked at the reaction, tilting her head. "What? Of course I remember that dragon." She smiled lightly, shrugging. "Also known as the First Roar of Creation. Isn't it the spiritual animal of the Supreme God of Creation?"
Astra added, far too casually, "But that's not why I remembered it. It's only because Arisu wouldn't stop yapping about it. Every single time the Crown Prince was mentioned, she'd say the same thing, The Supreme God and the Prince share the same spiritual animal… Ryuzan."
Kaen let out a low breath, as if trying to steady himself, but the relief on his face faded quickly, replaced by a thoughtful frown.
"You used to listen to stuff about the Crown Prince?" he asked, eyeing her. "I thought you couldn't stand him. Didn't you always get annoyed when someone praised him in front of you?"
Seiya nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she acted like she had a personal grudge or something. Would shut down any conversation that mentioned him."
Seirou tilted his head, arms folded. "So… did that change?"
Astra exhaled, flopping back onto the floor with a tired sigh. "Yes, I did. And I still do. Nothing's changed, I still don't like him."
Kaen looked over at Ryoma, the two exchanging glances, then silently sat down beside her, the weight of her words settling into the quiet.
Seiya tilted his head, curiosity written all over his face. "Astra, why do you hate our Crown Prince that badly? You've never even seen him. What reasons do you have?"
Astra went silent, her gaze lowering as she tapped her fingers against the floor in thought. After a long pause, she shrugged. "That can be counted as one of the reasons," she said bluntly. "Not just me, none of us have seen him before. Not even once. Yet everyone likes to glorify him!"
"They glorify someone who's never stepped in front of the public, never said a word to us, never shown his face. Just a name, just a title. That's it."
Seirou tilted his head, arms still folded. "But that reason won't last much longer, right? It's already announced he's coming out this year, during his birthday ceremony. People are excited more than ever. Every part of Shenghara is celebrating. He's finally stepping out."
"And that," Astra replied, narrowing her eyes, "is just one more reason to dislike him."
"Huh? How?" Seiya frowned.
She lifted a finger. "First, he's been gone for twenty years. And suddenly, out of nowhere, he decides now is the time to show up? On his birthday, no less?"
She raised a second finger. "Second, his birthday happens to be my birthday too! And every single year since I was a child, I've not been allowed to celebrate it properly. No lanterns under my name, no temple visits because all of it gets reserved for him. The festival's for him. As if no one else matters on that day."
She scoffed and threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "And there's even an official rule for it! 'The Crown Prince's birthday takes precedence over all other personal celebrations'—I mean, what kind of rule is that?!"
She jabbed a finger toward the sky as if accusing the heavens themselves. "Who made that?! I want to celebrate my birthday too!"
Her tone dropped slightly, more bitter now.
"Third, do you know how much tax we pay everytime just for his birthday ceremonies throughout the years? Even though the Crown Prince has never once acknowledged the people? We pay more than double during the celebration month. For what? Ceremonies we can't attend, flowers we can't touch, parades we only get to watch from rooftops because the roads are sealed."
She let her hand drop, voice sharp.
"All this for someone we don't know. Someone who doesn't know us. Someone who never asked what it cost."
A silence settled in. Kaen looked at her, then at Ryoma, the weight of her words pressing down on the group again.
Seiya scratched his head. "…Okay yeah. That's… that's a lot of valid reasons."
"Everyone says I'm lucky "Oh, you share the same birthday as the Crown Prince!' And because it falls on the Ivory Lotus Bloom Festival, the most sacred day, it's supposed to be a blessing." She scoffed. "But what should I say…? It's not a blessing. It's a curse."
She sighed, then pointed upward again, this time with exaggerated flair. "Oh heavens… my eternal god of hiccups! You always curse me with hiccups every time I feel too much emotion—so I'm begging you… curse the Crown Prince too!"
The group blinked.
Then Ryoma chuckled lowly, unable to help himself. He quickly cleared his throat, trying to compose his expression. "You know… someone really shouldn't say that out loud. Who knows, it might actually work."
——
Meanwhile, The prince sat upright against the carved bedhead, its dark wood inlaid with silver tracings of ancient runes. The silk curtains had been drawn open, allowing the cold breeze across the room. His mask lay forgotten on the floor beside the bed, as if discarded mid-thought.
His robe, though loosened, still held the poise of a figure not meant for disorder. One knee was slightly raised beneath the sheets, an arm resting casually across it. Yet for all his composed appearance, sleep evaded him.
His eyes usually hidden— were now half-lidded and tense. The faint line between his brows deepened as he leaned his head back, shadows playing across his cheekbones.
Then an abrupt sound broke the stillness.
Hic.
He froze.
Another.
Hic.
He closed his eyes with a tired exhale through his nose, trying to ignore it. But it continued, soft and persistent, as if mocking his otherwise regal composure.
Hic.
With a sigh, he reached out blindly toward the bedside table, fingers seeking the familiar coolness of the water jug.
His hand brushed it and knocked it over.
The jug clattered to the ground with a hollow thud, water spilling in a thin rush across the polished floor.
The prince opened his eyes fully this time and dragged a hand down his face, long fingers pressing into his temples. The hiccups paused for a moment, then returned.
"Of course," he muttered, voice low and dry.
He shook his head slightly, strands of silver hair slipping across his shoulder.
"It would happen to me… Who else?" he murmured under his breath, pushing himself off the bed.
The cold floor met his bare feet as he moved through the dimly lit room, the occasional hic breaking the silence like a taunt. He moved with the ease, yet the growing irritation was unmistakable.
After a moment of searching, he spotted a second jug of water near the far cabinet. Without hesitation, he crossed the room, uncorked it swiftly, and poured a full cup. The water sloshed slightly in his haste, but he brought it to his lips and drank it all in one desperate go.
Silence.
Another hiccup.
He scowled.
He poured a second cup. Drank again.
Still there.
Another hiccup.
A long pause. He stood in place, head tilted slightly as if listening to the quiet mockery of his own body.
"…Who cursed me with hiccups now?"