JE-united surprise fic for xdestroying 7/9

[ch3ryll]

National Route 16
Near Wakaba, Kingdom of Chiba

What Nino had failed to make clear that morning upon discussing their transportation was that there was no such thing as a free ride to Maku-Harihongo. By luck of the draw (or more like luck of the rock-paper-scissors battle), Sho was now sitting up in the truck cab with their driver while Jun and Nino were stuck in the back with the produce.

The night before, Nino had managed to befriend a man named Morita who ran a bar on the outskirts of Inage. Morita, a native of Keio, had fled General Kitagawa’s army and begun a new life over the border. After Nino’s persistent persuasion, Morita had ensured that the three of them would get their ride to the capital on board the vegetable truck of his friend Okada, a farmer from Inage. Okada grew vegetables in a hothouse during the winter and early spring, and he was on his way to the capital with his truck full of cabbage. The short and fairly quiet fellow usually sold his produce in Inage, but was off to Maku-Harihongo in hopes of charging twice as much to those attending the forthcoming coronation of Aiba Masaki, the Prince of Chiba.

“Because when you think ‘coronation’,” Nino had been saying all morning as the truck bounced down the paved Chiba highway, “you think about buying some cabbage.”

“At least he doesn’t transport pigs,” Jun replied, realizing there were worse things to smell like than cabbage.

Like the truck they’d stolen in Minato, Okada’s truck was built for hauling and not for speed. They’d complete about three-quarters of the journey to the capital that day and would set out come morning for an afternoon arrival. Offers to help him drive through the night had been rejected by the farmer - he had a “lady friend” in the town they were stopping in for the night and there was no way he was going to miss the opportunity.

Though Morita the barkeep was sensitive to the plight of Minato, Okada the farmer was mostly just doing a favor for a friend. The three of them would likely spend the night in the “lady friend’s” cellar, but she wouldn’t have guest rooms to offer them. Jun wasn’t quite looking forward to sleeping in a damp basement while Farmer Okada got his jollies upstairs. But it sure beat sleeping out in the open or in the truck with the cabbage.

It was dusk when Okada pulled his truck into the sleepy farm town of Wakaba. The Miyazaki farm was a small dairy operation, and Jun looked the other way when Okada went running to the porch to swing a pretty young woman in his arms. The reunion was short-lived when Jun saw Okada point back to the truck, the woman’s eyes widening in surprise.

“Ah, I don’t think she’s too happy about this,” Nino said, sprawled awkwardly, surrounded by cabbage.

But then the other truck door opened, and Sho came out. “Sho-kun, wait,” Jun said, calling out to him, but he was already halfway to the porch.

The two of them, stuck in the back of the truck, watched as Sho introduced himself. Jun couldn’t quite hear what was happening, but the suspicious look in Miyazaki-san’s face changed after a few minutes’ discussion. She even shook Sho’s hand, smiling at him and even curtsying before waving to the truck and opening the screen door on her porch, disappearing into the farmhouse.

Okada came over, opening the tailgate to the truck. “Aoi-chan’s never met a prince before,” Okada said, looking the slightest bit jealous as he held out a hand so he and Nino could hop down.

“He’s…we’re just…” Nino stuttered, but Okada held up a hand.

“He’s the nephew of our king,” Okada said, sounding almost proud. “Prince Masaki’s cousin in the flesh. Really, really amazing.”

Jun and Nino said nothing more, the both of them a bit stunned by how easily Sho had told them who he truly was. It was dangerous doing that, in case gossip spread. Then again, maybe Sho didn’t want to sleep in the cellar of the farmhouse either.

Once inside, Jun could see the change in Sho. He was standing proudly, in the middle of telling Miyazaki-san about his love for Chiba, for Keikarou Palace and the royal family. How much his mother Queen Kanako had always missed her homeland. Jun looked over, seeing pictures on the mantel of a middle-aged man and woman, both crowned, their son standing behind them with a cheerful smile. Sho wandered over, his fingers brushing against the picture fondly.

“She keeps a picture of the royal family in the living room?” Nino whispered.

So she did, and according to Okada, so did many people in Chiba. The picture was apparently a few years old, but it was the soon to be retired King Masayoshi, his wife Queen Yuko. Behind them, their son Masaki, the future king. Tall and handsome, but with a bright, almost childlike smile. Miyazaki-san surprised them all, whipping up a huge dinner in honor of “Prince Masaki’s cousin.” It became clear during the meal that the people of Chiba adored their royals, that they were hopeful for many more years of peace and prosperity under King Masayoshi’s son.

Jun could see a barrage of emotions on Sho’s face while they ate, as he told Miyazaki-san stories of his childhood and the time he’d spent with Chiba’s beloved new king. For decades Minato’s royal family had been respected, but tolerated was a more accurate term. As Sho had grown, as harvests dwindled and wars led the treasury to bleed money, the royal family had come to be resented, hated. Jun’s heart ached for Sho, whose people had never loved him, had never prayed for his health and safety. And after fifteen years, Jun knew that many in Minato had simply forgotten him, their unlucky crown prince.

Instead of the cellar, Miyazaki-san offered up the ground floor of her small home to them, had gathered up some spare bedding and blankets. Before she headed upstairs for bed, an eager Okada at her heels, she knelt down before Sho, kissing his hands. “For years our prince has cried for the loss of you and your family,” Miyazaki said. “The joy your presence will bring him is a blessing for our country.”

Sho had tears in his eyes, begging for the woman to get to her feet. “Thank you. It will be a blessing for me, to see him and know him again.”

It was the right thing to say, as Miyazaki declared that she would rise early and fix them breakfast, elbowing poor farmer Okada and saying that if he knew what was good for him, he’d “bring the Crown Prince right to the front door of the palace.” Eventually the two of them went upstairs. Jun and Nino looked away politely as Sho wiped his eyes, blew his nose in a handkerchief.

“By tomorrow morning half of Chiba will know you’re here,” Nino chided him.

Sho shrugged. “In the truck, Okada-san said I’m far from the first, that there have been many coming forward in recent weeks. People posing as my sister, my mother…” Sho’s eyes darkened in anger. “Masaki himself has only seen a handful. He has a screener, if you will. His chief of staff vets candidates. It’s him we need to meet with first.”

“Why didn’t you say this earlier?” Jun asked.

“He was busy using his family connections to get us a free breakfast, Jun-kun. You have to admire his hustle,” Nino teased. “If you’ll excuse me, I still stink of cabbage and I’ll be washing up. Don’t steal all the blankets because I’ll just steal them back.”

Nino headed off for the washroom upstairs, leaving Jun and Sho in the middle of Miyazaki’s living room. Sho shuffled back over to the mantel, to the black-and-white photograph of his only remaining family. “Are you alright?” Jun asked quietly, crossing his arms.

Sho chuckled gently, gesturing to the picture. “He looks exactly the same.”

Jun nodded. “You do too, I’d say. He’ll know you by sight, the prince.”

“If I get to see him,” Sho said warily, looking back at him. “Don’t think I was using my time in the comfortable truck cab just to relax. I nearly talked Okada-san to death, but I found out what we needed. I think Nino would be proud of me. It’s a man named Ikuta, the chief of staff. He’s supposed to be tough. Masaki’s given him a whole list of things to ask, to weed out the impostors.”

“Well you’ll obviously pass.”

“That’s thanks to your help.”

Jun shook his head. “That’s thanks to your memories, Sho-kun.”

Sho’s smile was rather sad. “Could I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything,” he answered in barely an instant.

Sho seemed embarrassed. “My pain cream…I…I have need of it. It’s been a long day and…”

“Sho-kun,” Jun chastened him, stepping forward. “You need to say things like this earlier. If you’re in pain and you don’t have to be…”

Sho laughed. “I was just hoping maybe you might…” His ears were reddening. “…provide some assistance. I had to wait until they all went upstairs.”

“Sit down, I’ll help.”

He could see that Sho was no longer hiding his pain, limping a bit over to the dining table and having a seat. Jun rummaged through Sho’s satchel, finding the familiar jar. As quietly as he could, Jun pulled up another chair and sat behind him, growing nervous as Sho slowly unbuttoned his shirt, taking it off. The scarring didn’t look as angry and red as it had that day in the forest, so Jun assumed that Sho had been better about using the cream lately.

He pressed the palm of his hand to the back of Sho’s neck, trying to keep calm. “Too cold?”

“No,” Sho mumbled. “Good thing we’re inside.”

Seeing the scarring again, Jun wondered if Sho remembered anything more about that night at Sakura House. At this point, he supposed it didn’t matter. He was finally here, in Chiba, safe and sound. If anyone was owed a favor by the universe, it was Sakurai Sho. Seeing the way Sho had looked at the portrait of his aunt and uncle, his cousin…his family, Jun knew they had to meet again. They simply had to. After so many years alone, what Sho needed most was a family who loved him. Jun, he was probably just a reminder of everything he’d lost. Jun was Sakura House, Jun was Mita Palace.

Sho was no longer considered royal in the country of his birth, but he was here, as first cousin of the future king. Sho would be cared for here. Sho would be respected here. The Aiba family could protect him in ways Jun simply could not.

He tried to shove away those dark thoughts, the knowledge that there was likely no place for him once Sho was reunited with his family. Instead he dipped his fingers into the pain cream, feeling Sho’s tension ease as he gently massaged the cream into his skin. This, at least, was something he could still do for Sho.

He felt Sho relax under his touch, and Jun was grateful Sho was facing the other way. Jun didn’t need Sho to catch him crying.

“Thank you,” Sho eventually said. “I feel a lot better.”

“I’m glad.”

“I can do the rest myself.” Sho didn’t turn, only holding out his hand. Jun placed the cream there, and Sho took it, putting his shirt back on just as Nino was coming down the stairs. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

Nino ruffled Sho’s hair as he passed him, Sho playfully shoving him off. Nino’s friendly expression changed as soon as he approached the dining room, finding Jun still sitting in the chair, alone.

“He needs to know, Jun-kun,” Nino said, his eyes full of pity.

“He needs to know what?” Jun spat back, instantly annoyed.

Nino’s unnecessary pity seemed to grow. “Once we get the reward…if he doesn’t know, then what was it all for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jun said, clenching his fist and looking instead at some of the watercolor paintings Miyazaki-san had hanging on her wall.

“You do know, you big idiot.” Nino rested a hand on Jun’s shoulder, sighing. Jun didn’t bother to shove him away. “Isn’t it better to tell him you’re in love with him, while you still can?”

Against his wishes, his eyes still stung with unshed tears. “He’s…he’s…Nino, it doesn’t matter…”

Nino wrapped his arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tight and Jun knew he couldn’t keep from crying any longer. He’d been found out, or, more likely, Nino had always known. Even before Yoshimoto Koya, even all those years where Jun had believed Sho was dead and gone, Nino had always known.

He cried as quietly as he could manage, Nino there for him and not letting go.

-then-

Mita Palace
Keio, Kingdom of Minato

Sho doesn’t like that they’re evenly matched these days. It’s Sho’s fault anyhow, Jun thinks. It’s Sho who insists that Jun attends fencing and kendo lessons with him, so he has a sparring partner close in age and size. But if Sho’s expected Jun to just give in, to let Sho beat the crap out of him, then he’s chosen the wrong person.

Jun’s taller than him now, having grown several inches that summer, and Sho doesn’t like that either. Between his complaints about the workers rioting in Keio and the indignity that is not having grown as tall as he’d anticipated, the newly seventeen year old Sho is a real pain. That day Abe-sensei had asked them to go through the usual techniques, but Sho had been in the mood for a full on battle. That day Sho had not liked when Jun’s foil had registered the first hit, a graze against Sho’s side, and he’d gone ballistic, lunging at Jun again and again and again, nearly stabbing him under his fencing mask. “It wasn’t a hit!” Sho had screeched. “He didn’t hit me! He didn’t!”

Abe-sensei had had to break royal protocol, grabbing Sho and pulling him off of Jun before either of them was actually hurt. Jun had flung off his mask, thrown his foil to the ground. “I quit!” he’d managed to shout before storming out of the training room.

He’s back in the servants’ hall now, hiding in his room like a coward. He’s still in his white fencing uniform because it’s royal property and he has to bring it back at some point. His mother’s already been to see him, and boy was she pissed off. “Apologize to His Highness,” she’d yelled at him. “Apologize this instant!”

“It’s his fault,” Jun had said. “He’s a real piece of work.”

His mother had been even more irritated after that. She’d left him there, presumably to go off and beg Queen Kanako to not have Jun beheaded or something. Jun thinks that might be preferable to having to spend one more minute in the presence of someone as immature and stupid as Sakurai Sho.

There’s a knock at the door, and he assumes it’s Nishikiori-san. Jun’s neglected some cleaning, the usual complaint. But when he opens the door it’s Sho. “Don’t close the door on me,” Sho says, and for once it sounds like a request rather than an order.

Jun stands aside, letting Sho in.

“Lock it,” Sho says, taking a breath. “Please lock it.”

Confused, Jun does as he’s told. Sho hasn’t changed either, even though it’s been about an hour since the fencing incident, as he expects his mother will remember it. Sho’s pacing the small room, and Jun’s not sure what to do. He’s still mad at Sho, absolutely he is, but if Sho’s come to the servants’ quarters of his own volition, then perhaps he’s feeling bad for being such a jackass.

Jun stands still, watching his antsy movements. “What’s wrong with you?”

Sho shakes his head. “He’s going to tell you tonight. He’s going to call you to his private audience chamber.”

“Your father?”

“My father,” Sho says. “It’s a real honor, he’s told me. He says you’d be a fool to say no.”

“Say no to what?” Jun asks. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Finally, Sho stops his angry pacing, hands on his hips and face red from rage, irritation, hormones, whatever the hell’s going on with him. “General Kitagawa, the minister of war, he’s asked for additional funds to support the Minato War College. After everything in Kansai, all the soldiers that were lost, he wants more money for training. He wants to train an elite new group of officers for the next conflict, whenever that happens. My father has…” Sho pauses, his face pained. “My father believes that you’d be an excellent candidate for the War College.”

Jun’s shocked. “But I’m a servant…”

“And my father thinks with proper training you would be the ideal bodyguard for him. He’s let you train with me all these years for a reason, Jun. I just didn’t realize that it was for his benefit and not mine.”

He can’t help but be a little excited by this news. Nishikiori-san says that once Jun turns sixteen this summer he’ll be able to move up from his odd job houseboy duties to proper footman training. But what’s a life in service compared to the military, and training as an officer at that! Drills, tactics and strategy, marksmanship training…everything his father had been through, though Jun had never been able to meet him. And the king thinks he’d be good for this?

“I don’t want you to be his bodyguard,” Sho says, popping Jun’s bubble of excitement in an instant.

Jun scowls at him, unable to stop himself. “Why? Bodyguard to the king, that’s an important position!”

“Because the War College is in Atago!” Sho cries, kicking at the wooden trunk at the foot of Jun’s bed. “If you accept it, then you’d be sent away to Atago!”

Jun’s quiet. Even though the conflict in Kansai has ended, Keio’s been in a state of emergency for the last several months from riots and protests. Increasingly many of the riots are against the royal family. Minato is in danger. All the servants know it.

“Wouldn’t that be preferable?” Jun finally asks him. “You made it pretty clear today what you think of me.”

Sho moves quicker than Jun expects, trapping him against the wall. “You belong here. With me.”

Jun’s shaking. Sho’s never this close to him, never. Only when Jun dreams of him. “Sho-kun, if this is what your father wants…”

Sho pushes him, hand grasping the sleeve of his fencing uniform, looking into his eyes. Jun’s transfixed, his anger cooling the longer Sho stares at him. “You can’t leave me. I won’t allow it.”

“I don’t belong to you,” Jun whispers. When Sho leans closer, Jun shuts his eyes. His mouth has gone dry, and his heart is pounding in his chest. Sho’s never this close to him. “Sho-kun, I’m not…property. I’m not your whipping boy. I’m not a possession. I’m a person. I’m your friend.”

“Jun, don’t leave me,” Sho’s begging. It’s not a sound Jun is used to hearing. “Please don’t leave me.”

Before he can open his eyes, he feels Sho’s breath on his face, a nervous little puff of air before Sho’s kissing him. He doesn’t react, doesn’t even know how to react. Sho pulls back just to breathe again, and when Jun doesn’t say anything or push him away, Sho keeps going. Jun gasps a bit when Sho’s hand sneaks around him, presses against his back. This time when Sho kisses him, Jun kisses back.

What are they doing? What are they doing?

“Stop,” Jun says when Sho finally comes up for air.

When he opens his eyes, Sho’s are almost black, his pupils huge and his breath coming in needy gasps. Sho’s staring at his mouth, won’t look at him properly.

“Sho, you can’t kiss me, I’m a servant.” And a boy, he wants to say too.

“I…I don’t care about…”

There’s a knock at the door, and they both jump. “Matsumoto-kun!” It’s Nishikiori-san. “Matsumoto-kun, come out of there at once! If you are not training with the Crown Prince then you are mine to order about!” The pounding on the door continues. “Matsumoto-kun!”

It’s Sho who moves first, undoing the lock and opening the door just before the head butler can bang on it again. Nishikiori-san turns an odd shade of purple, clasping his hands behind his back. “Your Highness! Please forgive my rudeness.”

“It’s fine,” Sho says, and Jun’s astonished by how calm he sounds. “I was just apologizing to Matsumoto for losing my temper. I had no intention of keeping him from his duties any longer.”

Nishikiori’s so stunned that he probably isn’t able to wonder why Sho needed to apologize to Jun behind a locked door in the servants’ quarters. He merely steps aside and Sho stomps off, holding his head high. Jun stumbles his way into the corridor, watching him go.

“You will change and report to Cook. There are potatoes that need peeling.”

Cook scolds Jun for being sloppy, but Jun can’t be bothered to care. He spends the rest of the day feeling like he’s floating. And when King Hiroki calls Jun in later that evening, he somehow finds the courage (or stupidity) to decline his offer for the War College.

“My place is here, serving the Sakurai family,” Jun says, still savoring the memory of his very first kiss.

-now-

East Terrace House, Offices of the Prince’s Chief of Staff
Maku-Harihongo, Kingdom of Chiba

The capital’s Grand Canal twisted through the middle of the city, splitting it into two halves. In olden times, the northern settlement of Maku and the southern settlement of Harihongo were connected only by small ferries and barges across the canal. Over the centuries, development brought the two cities together and it was named the capital of the Kingdom of Chiba. Now dozens of bridges spanned across the canal while steam-powered barges puttered beneath them.

At the canal’s widest point was the Royal Isle, home to the grand Keikarou Palace, residence of the royal family. The battlements of the palace had evolved over time, the walls now crawling with ivy and flowers rather than holes carved out for cannons. A green, verdant paradise in the center of the capital. Beyond the palace walls, the rest of Royal Isle teemed with courtiers, with offices of various ministers and advisors.

Okada and his truck were barred from entering Royal Isle, and so he’d left them at the southern end of Royal Bridge on the Harihongo side of the capital, honking his horn and heading off to sell his cabbage.

Spring had come to Chiba, the wide boulevards of the capital lined with fragrant cherry blossom trees on the verge of blooming. Sho suspected they’d be perfect in time for the new king’s coronation parade to begin in a few days. Nearly forty years ago, the trees had been a gift from the Sakurai royal family on the occasion of a Chiba noble girl, the Lady Kanako, becoming engaged to marry Crown Prince Hiroki, the future King of Minato. Seeing the trees blowing in the breeze, he smiled at the memory of his mother and father. The hopes and dreams that had surrounded their marriage.

Though Sho had thought it best to secure accommodations first, Nino had pushed for them to get in immediately with Ikuta-san, Masaki’s chief of staff. “There’s a coronation in two days,” Nino had grumbled, “we’ll be lucky to find a cardboard box with the money we have left.”

Royal Bridge was closed off to motorcars and trucks, but pedestrians could cross freely. The three of them walked to the island in the center. Keikarou Palace rose up to their right, much of it hidden behind tall iron gates covered in vines. To the left were the offices. The entire island was bustling that afternoon, and they weren’t surprised. There was much to be done, events still being planned. The coronation, the parade, the ball to follow that evening at the palace.

Compared to Keio with its sprawl of concrete housing blocks and coal-blackened skies, Chiba’s capital was charming and uniform. None of its buildings rose higher than a few stories, buildings built of white stone and gray brick, windows adorned with wrought-iron balconies. The royal offices were in similar buildings, civilians and civil servants alike bustling through the streets.

Though they approached the West Terrace House, which had apparently housed the prince’s staffers and advisors, everything was in the process of being moved across a grassy quad to the East Terrace House. Nino led the way, dodging staffers and noisy tourists, to locate the offices of Ikuta Toma, Chief of Staff to King Masaki (the sign outside his offices on the second floor was already up to date).

To their astonishment, there were no Sho lookalikes sitting in the room already. Sho had for some reason expected to walk inside and find a dozen doppelgangers reciting his family tree to anyone who would listen. Instead they found a single woman at a desk, arranging papers in a folder. Jun gave Sho a nudge, pushing him forward after Nino, who had decided in the truck from Wakaba that he was going to do the negotiating.

“Good day, madame,” Nino said in some grand voice. It took everything Sho had not to laugh at him.

The woman, with long black hair and a blank look on her face, stared at him. “May I help you gentlemen?”

“I understand he may be busy, but we were hoping to secure an appointment with Ikuta-san today,” Nino said, confidence through the roof. He rather roughly wrapped an arm around Sho, giving him a tiny shake. “We have someone here I think he’d like to meet.”

The woman stared at Sho, and she sighed in irritation. “The reward, huh?”

“You recognize me?” Sho asked, his voice squeaking a bit in nervousness.

“No,” the woman said plainly. ‘Yoshitaka Yuriko,’ the nameplate on her desk read. Yoshitaka-san gestured to the door they’d come through. “Perhaps you missed the sign. From your accents, you don’t sound…local.”

Nino turned, jerking his head for Jun to check the door. He found a sign there, and to Sho’s surprise, Jun simply yanked it off, anger in his eyes as he set it down before him and Nino.

The Office of His Majesty’s Chief of Staff Takes Fraud Seriously
Due to Repeated Instances of Insensitivity and Greed
Impersonators of the “Sakurai Royal Family of Minato” Will Now Be Turned Away
Until Further Notice
No Exceptions

Jun could barely speak. “Nino…Nino, we can’t…”

Nino practically leaned over the desk, turning on his most winning smile. “Ah, Yoshitaka-san is it? Lovely. How very lovely…listen here, if my accent is tripping you up. We’ve brought the real deal, just in time for the coronation. Sakurai Sho! Here he is!”

Sho said nothing, receiving another blank stare from Yoshitaka. Finally, she spoke again.

“If you do not vacate the premises immediately, I’ll have no choice but to call security to remove you. The capital is already on high alert, and it is unlikely you’ll be cleared for release from Maku East for at least a month. Maku East being the largest prison in the capital.”

“Yoshitaka-san!” Nino protested, “let’s not get off on the wrong foot here. I completely understand that many less-than-savory individuals have probably come here, hoping to trick you and your boss, and heaven forbid, our beloved future king. But let me assure you that…”

“I do not require your assurances, sir,” Yoshitaka continued. “We stand by the policy posted on the door. The policy you have already vandalized in ripping it down.”

Nino tried again. “We’ve come all the way from Keio, Yoshitaka-san.”

“And others have come from Kansai. From Ezo and Seto and Chinzei,” Yoshitaka said. “I don’t care if you wandered in from the next street over. Ikuta-san has more important things to do than listen to your lies.”

“They aren’t lies,” Jun interrupted, shoving his way forward and nearly knocking Nino out of the way. “I can prove it.”

“No exceptions,” Yoshitaka said, rising from her desk. Sho assumed she was heading to find someone who could haul them all to jail, a grand finale for their perilous journey.

“Sho-kun,” Jun pleaded with him, grabbing hold of him. There was desperation, fervor in his eyes that made his mouth go dry. “Sho-kun, tell her who you are!”

The office door to the rear of the room opened with a bang, revealing a man about their age who looked like he hadn’t slept in a month. He was tall and slim, midway through a cigarette. “Yuriko, I said I wasn’t to be disturbed.”

Yoshitaka-san paled, inclining her head. “I’m sorry. I was just asking these gentlemen to leave.”

Before the man could say another word, Jun was pushing Sho forward, so hard Sho almost cried out in pain. Jun had forgotten his shoulder, so desperate was he for this plan to work. “Ikuta-san. You’re Ikuta-san? Please, I beg you, listen to him.”

Ikuta narrowed his eyes, and Sho felt the man’s scrutiny from head to toe. “A Sakurai Sho impersonator? You’ve got guts, don’t you?”

“He really is Sakurai Sho,” Jun continued. Even Nino had quieted down, let Jun take over. “I worked in Mita Palace, then at Sakura House. I can verify that this man is Sakurai Sho.”

Ikuta barked out a bitter laugh. “I know everything there is to know. Comes with the job. Nobody who worked for the Sakurai family lived.”

“I could draw the palace for you. I could tell you what it looked like in Sakura House,” Jun pleaded.

Ikuta waved his hand. “And so could anyone who gained access to Minato’s archives. No deal. Look, I’m sure you’ve got the same sob story as all the rest. Traveled here for weeks, overcame danger. You can rattle off a few dozen names that anyone could get out of a guidebook to the Minato aristocracy. You know that Princess Eriko had a large mole to the side of her left eye. You know that Queen Kanako was allergic to peanuts. I have heard every excuse, every justification, every little fact, every fucking lie.”

The three of them stood their ground even as Ikuta approached, pointing his finger at Sho with anger in his eyes.

“I’m the one that has to listen to this bullshit over and over again. I’ve taken that on and you know why? It’s to keep him from having his heart ripped out each and every time.” Ikuta dropped his cigarette to the floor, crushing it under his shoe. Suddenly, Sho was really happy that Masaki had a man like Ikuta on his side. “I don’t know what you people get out of this, I really don’t. He’s wealthy and he has a big heart, so he’s got a target on his back. They think it’s easy money, tricking a prince. But those were people who got killed. That was his family that was killed, and to you I say again - no deal.”

“Ask him something,” Jun begged. “Ask him something that’s not in a guidebook. Where all those others have slipped up, he won’t.”

“In the last month alone, I have turned away twenty-three Princess Eriko wannabes,” Ikuta said. “Ten teenagers claiming to be Sakurai Ryota, who hid under his mother’s skirts when they were shot at and then fled in the snow despite being barely five years old. A Queen Kanako who had a family heirloom as proof, a necklace that had probably been ripped from her bullet-ridden body by an opportunistic soldier.”

Sho felt lightheaded, reaching out a hand to hold onto a desk in the office. “They took her jewelry months before she died…she had nothing on her. Please, don’t…don’t speak of her like that…”

“Yoshimo-chan?” Nino asked, by his side and squeezing his arm. “You okay?”

Ikuta sighed. “You alright? Look, if you just leave quietly, I won’t have you thrown in jail. Please, the coronation is in a few days and the prince is more stressed than you can possibly imagine.”

Sho nodded, his head aching. “I wouldn’t want to cause him any more grief…”

But Jun wasn’t taking no for an answer. His grip tightened on Sho until he finally did moan a bit in pain. Jun didn’t notice. “Ask him something. You’ve got to have something to ask him!”

“Jun-kun, stop it,” Nino hissed.

“ASK HIM SOMETHING!” Jun shouted, making Yoshitaka back away from her desk and hurry from the room. Well, she was definitely getting security now.

Sho could barely stay standing, between Jun’s tight grip and the soulless manner Ikuta had in describing what had happened at Sakura House. Sho could feel it again, the scene from fifteen years of nightmares, being on the other side of the wall. He could feel it again, his hand pressed there but unable to do anything. Unable to help them. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, that he got to live and they hadn’t…

Ikuta approached warily. “Back off,” he said to Jun, who reluctantly let go. When Sho nearly fell, it was Nino and Ikuta who had to keep him upright. Jun, finally realizing how hysterical he’d become, looked mortified.

“Sho-kun…oh god, Sho-kun, I’m sorry.”

“Stop.” Ikuta’s voice was firm, final. He turned to Sho with a bit more sympathy to his voice. “I have a letter in my office. Prince Masaki gave it to me. It’s a letter Sakurai Sho wrote to him, just before he was moved to Sakura House.”

“He kept them?” Sho asked, trying not to fall back into his memories. “He kept my letters?”

“You can quit the dramatic acting,” Ikuta said. “I’ll read the letter to you, and if you can fill in what I don’t say, then maybe I’ll talk to you. The real Sakurai Sho would know these things, wouldn’t he? But if you can’t, then you need to leave.”

While Ikuta went back to his office, Nino got Sho into a chair, grabbing a file folder from one of the desks and fanning him with it. When Jun tried to come close, Nino pointed at him. “You’ve done enough. Let him fucking breathe, Jun.”

“Sho-kun,” Jun murmured, collapsing into a chair at another empty desk, guilt written plainly on his face.

Ikuta returned, and Sho recognized the envelopes, his handwriting on them. Gently, Ikuta opened one of the letters. It was in pretty bad shape, as though the person who’d received it had unfolded it and refolded it, reading it again and again and again. Ikuta started to read:

“Masaki. It is my sincerest hope that this letter finds you well and your parents too. It’s taken me some time to write to you again, as they are watching us closely here at the palace. That my letters seem to be making it to you without being opened or censored first does give me the slightest amount of hope. If they’re letting them get through unhindered, it’s clear they do not wish to provoke Chiba into any sort of conflict. Minato is falling apart all around us, and there are whispers that something is about to happen. We don’t know what exactly. Maybe we are being moved. Many of the noble families here have left the country and some others are being detained or put in prison. Perhaps we will go to prison as well. I appreciate all you have done to try and do something about this situation. But I fear if your father does not act quickly that something truly terrible may happen.”

Sho had his eyes closed, remembering so easily how he’d sat at his desk, putting words to paper. But then Nino was speaking and Ikuta had stopped.

“Sakurai Sho wrote that fifteen years ago,” Nino was protesting. “You’re honestly going to turn us away if he can’t recreate verbatim something he wrote when he was still a kid?”

Sho held up a hand, keeping his eyes shut. “I’m not sure if this was how I phrased it, but I went on to say something like…at the very least, I would ask that you consider Eri and Ryota. I would have written ‘Eri’ back then, not Eriko. That…that uh, Ryota has not been to Keikarou Palace, but he loves plants and green things, so the palace grounds would be a good place for him.”

He felt Nino’s hand squeeze his arm, encouraging him.

“I wrote that he should try to get his mother, my aunt, on his side because Masaki’s mother and my mother are…were sisters.” The more he spoke, the stronger his memories became. He could even feel the pen in his hand. “I said that we all loved Chiba so much, the whole family, and that we wouldn’t have to be royal if we moved here. Bear with me, I was seventeen when I wrote this. I said that maybe we could all live together, the five of us, in a smaller house. I told Masaki that we would live in a houseboat in the canal if it meant we could sometimes dock at Royal Isle and…”

Ikuta cleared his throat. Sho opened his eyes, breathing heavily, on the verge of tears. Ikuta set the letter down on the desk. It was all there. Eri. Ryota and the plants. The message meant for Queen Yuko. Even the houseboat. All of it.

“The prince claims that this letter arrived totally sealed, the wax undisturbed, that he was the first person to open it all those years ago,” Ikuta admitted. “But there are people skilled in this sort of thing, criminal elements.”

Nino had the letter in hand, was reading it in disbelief. He was “criminal elements,” after all. “But this letter’s been here all this time so they’d have had to see the original before it was sent to Chiba. You think some crook’s going to remember something like this, these kinds of details, from all those years back?”

“I have to be absolutely sure,” Ikuta said, looking at Sho with a lot more sympathy now. “You understand, can’t you?”

Sho nodded.

Yoshitaka returned then with a large group of soldiers toting rifles. Ikuta held up a hand. “Stand down, stand down, it’s okay.”

“Ikuta-san,” the soldier in front said. “If these people are threatening you…”

“They’re not. But go outside and guard this office. Nobody comes in or out until I’m done speaking with this man.”

Sho was then instructed to follow Ikuta into his office alone. Jun and Nino remained out in the main room, so as not to influence any of Sho’s responses. Ikuta, exhausted but determined, sat Sho down on his couch and sat across from him.

He asked Sho questions rapid fire. The expected dates, places, names. Slowly things grew more complex. What did Sakurai Sho call Aiba Masaki as children? Masa-kun. What did Sakurai Eriko call him? Sho smiled, replying with what he knew in his heart was correct. “Prince Chiba-chan.”

Over the next hour, Ikuta didn’t even write things down. There were more nicknames, more letters, conversations at dinners from twenty years ago, all these things that Masaki had told Ikuta in the strictest confidence in hopes of weeding out people attempting to deceive him. Ikuta never said if he was right or wrong, he just moved on to the next question. Sho wondered if Ikuta wanted him to trip up at some point or not.

“Okay,” Ikuta finally said. “Here’s something we always ask. The answers are always different, and we really have no idea what to believe. Because honestly, we don’t know. Forgive me for asking this, but how did it all happen? That night at Sakura House?”

He explained it all, everything he could remember. He told Ikuta what was still fuzzy (his escape) and what wasn’t (waking up in Kamezuka as Yoshimoto Koya). He told Ikuta that one of the soldiers had been a Loyalist, assigned to get him out of Sakura House. He told Ikuta how he was on one side of the wall while his parents and siblings were on the other. He told Ikuta that the other soldiers wanted to wait until all of them were together, but that he was missing. He hadn’t been. He’d just been on the other side of the wall, the Loyalist soldier clamping his hand over Sho’s mouth.

There’d been the gunshots, so many gunshots.

He named the soldiers, their ranks. He named the handful of servants who’d been there, including Matsumoto Hana and her son Jun. He explained it all and when he was finished, Ikuta Toma was sitting there, sorrowful. The man got up, opening his desk drawer and retrieving a black-and-white photograph. It was the grounds of Mita Palace, from one of the few times King Masayoshi, Queen Yuko, and Masaki had visited. In the photograph, he and Masaki were about eleven years old, showing off some butterflies that they’d caught in a net in the palace gardens. Ikuta let him have the photo.

“Your Highness,” Ikuta said, bowing his head low to him. “I am going to do everything in my power to ensure that you are reunited with your family.”

-

Midori Hotel
Maku-Harihongo, Kingdom of Chiba

Their rooms were connected by an interior door, and Nino had it wide open, running back and forth between the two with a childlike enthusiasm. It was hard not to be enthusiastic. Jun’s hotel room on its own was larger than their entire apartment had been in Keio.

Finally Nino grew tired, collapsing onto the massive bed in the center of his room with a gleeful giggle. Jun headed on through, checking the view from Nino’s windows. It wasn’t too different from his own. The top floor of the Midori Hotel along the Boulevard Queen Yuko, one of the most expensive patches of real estate in Maku-Harihongo, ought to have been booked solid for the coronation. Somehow, Nino and Jun had been placed here.

After Sho had disappeared into that room with Ikuta, Jun had been distraught over how he’d behaved. He’d been rough and demanding, insensitive and coarse. He’d been rude to Ikuta and his secretary. He’d caused Sho unnecessary pain. Despite that, Ikuta hadn’t turned them away. Ikuta had listened to Sho, and then things had moved so quickly, Jun was still reeling from it.

Without even getting a chance to say goodbye, Ikuta had royal guardsmen whisk Sho off somewhere, presumably to accommodations on Royal Isle. Ikuta had made several telephone calls and within the hour, Jun and Nino had been put up at the Midori Hotel at no cost. They were under strict orders not to leave. When Nino asked when they could speak with Sho again, the soldiers who escorted them had no answer to give. All that probably remained was the delivery of their reward.

“He’s fine, you know,” Nino said, watching Jun from the bed as he stared out the window. “If you think this place is fancy, I can only imagine the kind of place they’re stashing Yoshimo-chan.”

Jun was shaken. He hadn’t even gotten to properly apologize to Sho for how he behaved, and now they’d been separated. Presumably, Ikuta was looking for a spot in Prince Masaki’s schedule, to find a way for the man to reunite with Sho before the coronation. “It’s strange now,” Jun admitted. “Without him.”

“You trained him well, Jun-kun.”

“That was all him,” Jun said. “All of that was his memories. I didn’t teach him any of that. I never knew what he wrote in those letters.”

“If we’d brought a fake,” Nino said, “we would have been out of luck.”

“We’d have never made it this far with a fake,” Jun admitted.

Nino smiled. “So much for our scam of the century. In the end, we’re heroes, huh?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He turned, leaning against the windowsill. “You still did this for the money.”

“And you didn’t?” Nino asked, chuckling. “I wonder how they’ll do it. Banknotes, jewels, gold bars. Trapped in here, I can’t exactly run down the street to the Chiba National Bank and open an account to store all my gold.”

“I suppose a few nights’ accommodations in a place like this is worth waiting for your full reward?”

“What do you mean my full reward?” Nino answered. “We’re both going to be set for life.”

He looked down, shaking his head. “I don’t know…”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know if I should take it,” Jun admitted.

This got Nino’s attention. He was off the bed in seconds, hurrying to Jun’s side. “You have to take it. Jun, we didn’t come all this way to tell Prince Masaki thanks, but no thanks. You earned it. You hear me? You earned it. After the train, after you nearly fucking drowned in that river…”

Jun interrupted him. “And what about the people who really got us here? Okada-san, Miyazaki-san, the truck we stole in the borderlands.” He shut his eyes. “Satoshi…”

“Yoshimo-chan will tell the prince all about that. They’ll be compensated, I’m sure. Yoshimo-chan, he’s as much of a bleeding heart as you are. This isn’t for you to worry about now.”

“Maybe it should be.”

He’d had plenty of time to think, all those hours on foot. All those hours bouncing around in Okada-san’s cabbage truck. As far as the press in Chiba knew, the most recent coup in Minato had been much more peaceful than the ones that had come before it. But stability was not a concept Minato had known for so many years. Even when one general held onto power for years, there was still so much poverty. So much uncertainty. Currency inflation, pitiful wages, never enough food for everyone. People crowded into housing blocks they could barely afford, desperate for something better.

Jun was nobody, in the end. Ex-servant, ex-soldier, ex-delivery man. But he was someone who would soon know a wealth he could barely comprehend. Few others from Minato would ever be given such a major opportunity. Not necessarily an opportunity to fix all of the country’s problems, but the opportunity to at least try. He couldn’t do anything, though, until he met with the prince and discovered how much helping Sho was really worth.

Stuck in the hotel, he and Nino headed downstairs to dine in the Midori Hotel’s grand restaurant. The reality of the country they’d just escaped followed them. Nino had only the rumpled suit that had managed to come with them all the way from Keio. Jun, who’d dropped two bags along the way, was in clothes that weren’t his. The glasses that weren’t quite right, a suit jacket that was too tight, slacks that were a bit too short.

Around them, Chiba’s wealthiest politely ignored them, dining on steak and caviar, drinking bottles of wine that probably cost the same as a month’s rent in Keio. Though their meals were included thanks to Ikuta-san’s generosity, he and Nino chose simple fare. A rice bowl with chicken and egg for Jun, a hamburger steak and sauce for Nino. Despite all his bragging about his wealthy lifestyle to come, Nino didn’t yet have the courage to act on it here.

They were leaving the restaurant, heading through the ornate lobby for the lifts when the concierge at the front desk waved for their attention.

“Matsumoto-san, Ninomiya-san,” the concierge said, bowing his head. “This just arrived for you.”

The concierge seemed to be in awe. No wonder, Jun realized, seeing the same Aiba family crest on the sealed envelope that they’d seen throughout Chiba. Nino asked for a letter opener, slicing the thing open to pull out the letter within. They headed over together to a more secluded part of the lobby, hiding behind some elaborate flower arrangement.

“It’s from Ikuta,” Nino said. Then his face showed genuine surprise. “From Ikuta, but he says the following are the dictated words of His Royal Majesty, Aiba Masaki of the Kingdom of Chiba.”

“He knows? He knows that Sho is alive?”

Nino nodded. “Let’s see. Dear sirs…wow, that’s new to me.” Nino kept reading. “‘Dear sirs, I have been informed that I owe the two of you an incredible debt. I reunite tomorrow morning with my cousin, and after fifteen long years of sorrow, I will at last know some measure of peace. You have chosen a rather busy week to visit, so I must apologize for the abruptness of the following. You will come and see me tomorrow at 4:00 PM promptly so we might discuss the matter of your compensation. If you cannot attend, Ikuta-san will have to see about your money when he has time.’”

Jun was surprised when Nino laughed.

“What? What did he say?”

“No, it’s just that Ikuta wrote something in the margin. He wrote that ‘I am accompanying His Royal Majesty on his tour of the country. Unless you wish to be paid six months from now, you’d better show up tomorrow.’”

Jun snorted. “Interesting country.”

Nino got back to Prince Masaki’s words. “‘I look forward to making your acquaintance tomorrow, sirs. I’m also in the middle of rehearsing for my coronation speech, so if my attention wavers, it’s not meant as a slight. Thank you again for bringing Minato’s Crown Prince back to his family.’”

Jun smiled. “Sounds like a strange guy.”

They returned to their rooms for the night, Nino closing and locking the door that connected them to offer Jun some privacy. He didn’t bother lighting the lamps, loosening his tie and tossing it onto a bureau of drawers. Peeking down from his fancy window, he still saw members of the royal guard patrolling the front of the hotel. Ikuta was truly serious about them not leaving. Jun suspected there were soldiers at the rear exit as well.

Taking his chances, Jun left his suit jacket, untucking his dress shirt to be more comfortable as he left his room, pocketing the key. At the end of the carpeted hallway there was a door to the roof, and he was happy to find it unlocked. The last thing he wanted to do was pick a lock in a hotel that the future king of Chiba was paying for. He took the iron spiral staircase up, relishing the crisp chill of the night air as he stepped out onto the roof.

They were on the Harihongo side of the canal. The city was lit up with the help of electricity, ornate street lights stretching in either direction along the Boulevard Queen Yuko. The cherry blossom trees were on the cusp of full bloom, perfuming the air with their light, fragrant scent even this many stories up. Motorcars and taxis sputtered along, the sounds of engines occasionally joined by a honking horn. Jun’s shoes scuffed along the pebbles scattered along the flat roof of the hotel as he walked the perimeter, taking in the view from all angles. The letters “MIDORI HOTEL” were spelled out in large neon green atop the hotel, each letter sturdily bolted to the roof and as tall as two grown men put together. Jun had a seat on the ledge behind the D, peeking through the center and out across the capital.

All along the canal, small commercial boats puttered along even at the late hour. Tourist boats and pleasure cruisers joined them. Squinting out to one of the lit-up long boats, he could see revelers toasting with wine as they leisurely sailed beneath Royal Bridge. Royal Isle sat beyond, and from up high he could see the palace grounds better. He’d never traveled with the family on visits here, but Sho had always come back to Mita Palace sounding the slightest bit jealous of his cousin’s home.

The darkness mostly hid what seemed like a massive grove of trees and manicured lawns that surrounded the palace. Keikarou Palace sat at the center, two stories tall with a central structure surrounded by a few wings extending in each cardinal direction. It was still lit up, a collection of bright lights in the middle of the darkened trees. Was Sho in there? Jun imagined he was. Jun actually hoped he was. They’d watched Mita Palace be destroyed right in front of them, but Keikarou Palace wasn’t going anywhere. The Aiba family wasn’t going anywhere.

Tomorrow was an important day, as much for Nino and Jun as it was for Sho. In the morning, according to the prince’s letter, the cousins would officially be reunited. Jun couldn’t help smiling, happy for Sho. Jun, he’d only had his mother as a child, but she’d been raised here in Chiba. Perhaps with Ikuta-san’s help he could find his mother’s family. Perhaps like Sho he had cousins, aunts, and uncles in Maku-Harihongo as well. He wouldn’t want to impose on strangers, of course, but after coming all this way, maybe it was worth trying to at least meet them.

Sho would have a place here. He could be with his family, with people who would treat him kindly. Sho had grown up in splendor, with fine clothing and rich food and with people at his beck and call. After years sleeping under a staircase, forgotten and lonely, he could get back to the life he’d been born to, the respect he deserved. And Jun knew that while Maku-Harihongo had a place for Sakurai Sho, it didn’t really have a place for Matsumoto Jun.

He’d accomplished the task that had been set out for him all those years ago, of seeing Sho brought to the people who could keep him safe. As a servant, he had done his job. As Sho’s friend, he had done his job. But Jun was a realistic person. He had no place in a palace anymore. He hadn’t been in service for years, and he had little desire to return to carrying trays and polishing silver.

And even if he found employment here, a place to live here, there was little possibility of their lives intertwining again. Sho would make friends with Prince Masaki’s friends, would mingle with courtiers. Whether he was announced to be the surviving Crown Prince of Minato or if Prince Masaki had him introduced under an alias to protect him, Sho would never have to struggle again. Sho would never have to suffer again. His injuries, perhaps the doctors in Chiba could find a more permanent solution. Something more than a jar of pain cream.

Feelings aside, Jun knew he had outlived his usefulness to Sho.

But what he hadn’t outlived was his usefulness to Minato. He sat there on the roof of the hotel, shivering a little but his mind alive with ideas, with possibilities. The sound from Boulevard Queen Yuko, from the boats on the canal, became nothing more than background noise. He knew what he had to do. He would benefit best from Prince Masaki’s help, but if he didn’t get it, he’d try anyway. He was thrilled to at last have a plan, a future, a new cause worth fighting for.

Jun would not cry from the loss of Sho. Jun would instead fight in Sho’s name to help the citizens of Minato. It would be difficult. It would be dangerous. But someone had to try, so why couldn’t that someone be him?

Part Eight