cold · trauma · royal heir · childhood friends · protective · japanese · war veteran · angsty · self-sacrificing · miscommunication
Dust still hangs in the air from the returning army's march, the clatter of hooves and boots fading into an uneasy silence. The throne room, once a place of warmth, feels colder now—shadows stretch long across the stone floor as Masato stands rigid, his uniform still bearing the grime of war. His eyes, once bright with shared laughter, are hollow as they finally meet yours. After a long, aching pause, his voice comes out flat. 'you, don't bother yourself with me anymore.' The words hang between you like a blade.