(no subject)
Title: Chapter Ten [of fourteen?]
Disclaimer: (n) A statement disclaiming something, especially responsibility
Pairing: None. Implied Yamashia Tomohisa/Ninomiya Kazunari if you really want to take it that way.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 6484
Notes: Uh... hi? It's alive?
“You know... I’ll still be damned,” Ueda mused idly, kicking his foot a little, “Made it all the way to the palace of the Borderlands. How they managed to keep that loud-mouthed idiot hidden... I do have to hand it to them, those guards did their job.”
Toma turned his sullen gaze to the ceiling. It was the trillionth time he’d heard this line of thinking, and it got less impressive each time. He knew what Ueda did for a living, of course - Ueda had never been secretive about it. But he also didn’t think the Borderland guards were half so simple or ill-trained as the assassin made them out to be.
“I’ve always wanted to have a tour of the palace parts they don’t let you see. Haven’t you, Tottchi?” Ueda asked sweetly. “It’ll be so fun. And to have Ami-chan greeting us when we arrive - it’ll be such a party.”
Toma wondered if Ueda wouldn’t do him the favor of just killing him. He sighed as soon as the thought was complete. Of course Ueda wouldn’t. Ueda wanted to see him suffer - and to have a warm body to do with as he pleased a night - or he’d have killed Toma the moment they’d crossed the borders.
“Now, now. Why so glum, Tottchi? Aren’t you excited to see your friend?” Ueda asked.
The blond boy sat listlessly in his chair, staring out the window. There had to be something he could do. The assassin hadn’t filled him in on any plans, of course, but Toma knew he had to be a part of them. He wouldn’t have been forced along if he weren’t to be included.
At the very least, Kitagawa would have decided that Toma would be enough to draw Aiba out, providing they found him. Now that the palace and all the palace guards were in the circumstances to consider, Toma wasn’t sure what would happen to whatever half-formed plans Ueda might have had.
He wasn’t sure what it meant for Miya, either.
Ueda struck Toma’s left cheek sharply. “Answer me.”
Toma stared at the assassin. “You’re insane.”
Ueda slapped Toma’s right cheek, then pinched it, smiling fondly. “And so very well paid to be. Don’t worry, Tottchi. You’ll be able to play with your friends again soon enough. Probably with me as part of my reward for all my hard work.”
Toma knew he hadn’t been able to hide the look of horror in his eyes. Ueda smiled benignly.
He had everything ready to complete his mission. He’d spent the better part of the week taking tour after tour of the palace. He’d flirted with the pretty tour guides and taken his two favorites out for meals to cover his constant returns, and he’d made all the reconnaissance runs he could between them. He’d memorized the changing of the guards and he knew where they went to have their uniforms fitted and fixed. Soon enough Aiba would be in the possession of Kitagawa once more, and the black haired diplomat dead by his hands. While the city was in panic, he’d slip in and lure Miya from the blond noble’s sight with Tottchi.
Ueda would be a rich man before long.
------
Ninomiya was well and truly lost, and walking quickly and getting better and more truly lost all the time. It didn’t really surprise him; he’d known that he wouldn’t know the city after having only been in it once, and then with a guide. He’d also purposefully gone to in a different direction from the palace - going there might bring him back into contact with Sakurai - Sho - the prince.
Nino didn’t think he could take more of the prince’s vaguely puppy-like face as he tried to impress that, no, Nino wasn’t under any pressure to believe him, or the fond, brotherly smile the prince insisted on bestowing him even though Nino hadn’t known him for longer than a day. And all on the basis of one painting of a toddler. And though Nino had to admit that said toddler did have the same mole on his chin and the same two freckles on his cheek and one under his lip as Nino did, and similar colored eyes and the same unruly hair, and that was all oddly coincidental, the thought that he was the prince’s brother was ludicrous.
When the muscles of his left leg beginning to jump in protest of the constant strain, Ninomiya finally slowed and looked around. There was a bench down the street; Nino hobbled towards it decisively. He’d sit there for a while and rest and then figure out where he was going to go to find food and shelter. Or a job.
As soon as he figured out where he was, of course, because looking around, Nino realized that he couldn’t tell. He didn’t know which way he’d come from to get here and he didn’t know how to get back to Ohno’s house.
If he could get back to Ohno’s house.
If Ohno would ever even take him back.
Nino stopped walking, not bothering to cross the rest of the way to the bench. He sank to his knees in the middle of the mostly deserted street, staring straight ahead. He couldn’t go back, could he? Ohno didn’t want to see him again.
Nino buried his head in his knees. He was lost and hungry and cold and ownerless and completely alone for the first time in his life. He had no work. He had no friends - Jun and Aiba lived in the palace and Nino wasn’t going to be allowed in just because he asked to see them. They were likely too busy to be bothered with him, anyway. Jun had his diplomat-y things to do and Aiba probably spent his days following him around and being a pest. Or maybe they’d taught him how to cook - Aiba had always been interested in the kitchens back in the Eastlands; sneaking to them whenever things seemed quiet and trying to figure out what combined made what dish.
For the first time in years, Nino felt tears welling in his eyes. He had no energy to keep them from falling. He didn’t make a sound; he had too many years of training for that. But his body trembled violently and he had to sit heavily against the wall behind him.
“Hey, boy,” said a soft, male voice, “Are you crying?”
Nino curled more in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs and shaking his head unconvincingly. It was hard to be convincing when your whole body was shuddering. A hand came down on one of his shaking shoulders right away.
“Hey now,” said the voice, “The street isn’t a place for that.”
“We-well I... I don’t... have an-anywhere else... to... to do it,” Nino managed.
The hand on his shoulder moved to his elbow and gripped it gently. Nino tensed, realizing only then that he’d spoken back to whoever was standing there, but the hand that was gripping him wasn’t gripping enough to hurt.
The voice was still friendly when it spoke again. “Well... here, get up. You can come with me and finish crying at my place. You shouldn’t be out here - you’ll get sick again. You’re still not completely healed, are you?”
Nino looked up, blinking in surprise. Hunched over him was a young man who looked about twenty. He smiled gently and Nino couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked familiar. The boy’s eyes were soft and friendly under his wheat-brown hair, and his voice was quiet but firm. “Come on, stand up now.”
This time Nino couldn’t ignore the stranger’s order. He got up with the next tug on his elbow. The other boy was quite a lot taller than Nino was, but lanky and skinny enough that he wasn’t very threatening. He let go of Nino’s elbow and wiped a tear clinging to Nino’s eyelashes with the pad of his thumb.
“You’re Ninomiya.”
Nino blinked. “How did you - ”
“You walked by our clinic not long ago,” the boy said, gesturing over his shoulder, “I thought I recognized your face. Ohno-san brought you to us when you first came here and I came when you got the sniffles. Come on, let’s get you off the street. It’s getting cold early this year.”
Nino nodded dumbly, his head whirling. What clinic? When had he been brought there? He’d never gone out to a clinic with Ohno. He’d only ever been on that single walk with Shun to the palace, and that had brought them to the other end of the city. Ninomiya frowned, trying to remember the face that had stopped in to see him when he’d gotten his cold.
He could only remember Ohno’s mother.
The young man just kept smiling and held out his hand to Nino. Though he didn’t take his hand, Nino stepped carefully to the stranger’s side, stumbling as he put his weight on his left leg and caused it to spasm again.
The stranger made a surprised noise, but caught Nino easily. “I knew you weren’t healed completely. How much walking have you been doing? Didn’t Ohno-san listen to a thing I said?”
“It’s not his fault,” Nino said sharply, shrugging away from the man.
The stranger didn’t look offended. His hand was still curled around Nino’s sleeve and he stared at Nino as if coming to a realization. “Are you in your sleeping dress?” he yelped, shrugging out of his coat. “What on earth are you doing out here in nothing but your night clothes? Where is your coat? Here, put this on.”
Nino gaped at the long coat was shoved into his shoulders.
“Well? Put it on,” the young man said, watching intently until Nino obeyed. “Come with me.”
The stranger didn’t let Nino walk on his own, and no matter how much Nino wanted to his leg wouldn’t have let him walk properly anyway. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that the young man was somehow familiar - in the end that was what let him lean on the stranger’s shoulder.
The lanky man led him down the street, around a corner, and into the back door of a red bricked building. There were two ways to go from the back entrance: an immediate staircase that led up and a hallway that led to where Nino assumed the front of the building was.
“We have a room down here for patients, but nobody’s in there right now.” The familiar-stranger pointed down the hall. “It’s that first door on your right. You can stay there for now. Would you like something to eat?”
Nino nodded dumbly again, feeling dazed, looking around at the paintings on the walls. Then he blinked, realized what he’d been asked, and started shaking his head rapidly. “No, that’s fine, please don’t trouble yourself - ”
“It’s no trouble,” the boy interrupted firmly, “I already made lunch for myself. I always make extra food. It makes dinner easier - leftovers mean less to cook. You wait in the room and I’ll bring something down.”
The former Pet nodded, this time in response to the order. He was hyper-aware of everything - from the coat brushing his ankles and the young man watching him, to the fact that the third and twelfth boards of the floor creaked when he stepped on them - as his feet took him to the first door on the right. He made a mental note to skip those the next time he came down the hall. If he came down the hall again. What if the stranger was going to call for Ohno? Or the police?
And why was he familiar? Nino frowned as he continued to try to place it. He couldn’t think why; he really didn’t remember him from Ohno’s mansion, and he certainly didn’t remember him from the clinic. Nino looked back down the hall before entering the room - the stranger had gone up the stairs.
Nino stepped through the first door on the right and was assaulted by the memory of pink.
He looked around, wide-eyed. The room was wide, but furnished and comfortable. To the right of the door was a table and a desk chair. Along the opposite wall there were three fairly comfortable-looking single beds; lower to the ground than the bed he had slept on in Ohno’s house. They were covered in just-barely-pink sheets and soft-looking light pink blankets. The walls were a warm beige, illuminated by the sun through a large window. Clearly the room was calculated to be soothing.
And Nino had been in here. In theory he remembered now - mostly because Ohno and Aiba had mentioned it offhandedly a few times. In practice he barely remembered it, because it was hard to remember anything from that time that wasn’t pain.
So this was the clinic he’d been brought to when he’d first arrived.
He heard the stranger’s steps before the stranger arrived and turned to face the door.
“Oh,” said the boy’s voice as he entered, “I’m Yama - ”
“Pink.”
“Sorry?”
“The pink. I remember the pink.”
“The pink?”
“I remember the pink,” Nino repeated, “I didn’t know if you were right. I remember the sheets.”
“Did you think I was lying?”
Nino shrugged. “You might have been.” He looked down quickly. “Sorry. That was rude. I didn’t mean to - ”
“Don’t worry about it,” the boy said, tilting his head to the side. “You’re right, after all. I might have been lying. So why did you come with me?”
“... You were being nice to me.”
The young man blinked, like he couldn’t quite contemplate Nino’s logic. Like it was too simple a train of thought for it to be how Nino really worked. Nino was getting used to that expression. Ohno gave it to him all the time.
Nino looked down, coloring faintly to match the sheets. “Sorry. You were telling me your name.”
“Oh, yes. I’m Yamashita Tomohisa.”
Now Ninomiya blinked. He couldn’t remember hearing so many syllables in a name, ever. Not even Lord Kitagawa had such a mouthful. His own new - not so new if you asked Sakurai - name was more often than not shortened to just ‘Nino’.
“Do people call you all that at once?” he blurted.
The young man laughed. “Usually not. It’s usually just Yamashita.”
“Not ‘Yama-pink’?” Nino asked with a tentative smile.
“No, not Yama-pink,” Yamashita said, laughing again.
Nino allowed himself a short laugh this time. The taller boy placed the tray he’d been holding on the small table by the door. The smell of food finally wafted to Nino, and he breathed deeply. His stomach growled loudly and he flushed in embarrassment.
Yamashita laughed and said triumphantly, “I knew you were hungry.”
Nino nodded sheepishly.
“Well, eat up,” Yamashita said, bringing over the bowls and holding one out.
Nino took it hesitantly, watching Yamashita’s hands out of instinct. The taller boy just waited patiently until the bowl was secure in Nino’s hands. Then he backed away and took a seat in a chair that stood by one of the beds, fork already dipping into his food. Nino stood awkwardly, looking into the bowl and wondering if he was to sit on the floor.
Yamashita looked up, mouth full and eyes curious. The fork dropped into the bowl and he waved at the bed as he chewed. “What’re you still standin’ for? I brought you here to get you off your legs. Come. Sit, sit.”
Nino perched carefully on the edge of the bed sitting just far back enough that he was fairly comfortable. It wouldn’t do to have his host thinking he was taking advantage of him. Yamashita either didn’t notice or didn’t mind either way, because he didn’t say anything. They ate mostly in silence, broken only by the sounds of forks hitting the rims or scraping the bottoms of their bowls. It was a comfortable silence, though, as Nino had rarely experienced.
The former Pet was mildly surprised when he put the fork into the bowl and came up with nothing. Blinking, Nino looked into the bowl, which he’d emptied without realizing. He looked sheepishly over at Yamashita, wondering if he was supposed to have waited.
Yamashita just nodded in satisfaction, and smiled. “That’s good. I’d say you’ve made nearly a complete internal recovery if you can eat normally.”
Nino wanted to tell him that eating that much food wasn’t normal for him - that in fact he was just becoming used to it - but he stopped himself. It wasn’t like he wanted to stop being fed, and everybody seemed to think there was something wrong with the amount he ate normally, anyway.
“Thank you. For letting me stay,” he said instead.
“Mind if I ask why you were alone out there?” Yamashita asked, voice casual.
“I...” Nino paused, hearing Ohno’s voice telling him to leave again. He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists on his knees. “I made Ohno-sama angry. He... he told me to leave his sight. I didn’t know what else to do, so I left.”
Yamashita frowned. Ohno telling Nino to get out of his sight? That didn’t sound like the noble at all; especially considering the fuss Ohno had made about Nino’s care when he’d first been brought to the clinic. Nino making someone like Ohno mad didn’t compute, either, given how hard it was to truly upset the noble, and how obliging and anxious a character Nino clearly was. Yamashita sighed. There was a very serious case of mis-communication happening, and he figured the blame was on Nino’s past and Ohno’s inability to understand it.
“So why don’t you go back?” he asked.
Nino shook his head rapidly. “I can’t. I don’t know the way and - that would - how could I? My master told me to leave. He told me he doesn’t want to remember me. I can’t go back. I’d only anger him again.”
Yamashita’s lips thinned in thought. Yep. Definitely had to do with Nino’s life in the Eastlands. He made a mental note to have a long talk with Ohno if this didn’t get resolved very quickly. A talk that would probably involve a few head-smacks. The anxiety level that Nino was showing was no good at all.
“All right,” Yamashita said, “Would you like to stay here?”
The slight boy looked up at him, hopefully. He just as quickly quashed that hope and looked down. “I’ve imposed too much already, Yamashita-sama. Thank you, though.”
Yamashita tutted, waggling a finger at Nino. “None of this suffix business. My name’s Yamashita Tomohisa, and I’m probably the same age as you. Suffixes are for royalty and stuffy old nobles from my grandparent’s era. Hell, Yama-pink is better than a suffix.”
“Yama-pink?” Nino repeated. He wrinkled his nose. “But that doesn’t sound right.”
“Then... Yama. Or Pink, or... or Yama... pi. Yamapi. Call me that.”
“Yamapi,” the boy repeated slowly, testing it. He looked at Yamashita from under his lashes. “If you’re sure.”
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t tell you to use it.”
“O-okay. Yamapi, then.”
“Now that that’s settled. About where you’re going to stay - ”
“I can find another place,” Nino offered quickly.
Yamapi raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “With what money? I know you don’t have any hiding in your pocket-less night clothes.”
“I can... I can work.”
Yamashita’s jaw firmed. That soft tone could only mean one sort of work, and if he let Nino go out to do that, Ohno would kill him. (If he didn’t hang himself for not being able to protect the slight boy, again, first.) “No.”
Nino blinked at him. “Why?”
“You just are not going to do that - you are not even going to consider it. Nobody should have to do that just for money. You will stay here. You can sleep in my room with me; it’s warmer than down here and I don’t want you getting sick again. You can even help me at the counter if you want to feel better about it. Just... don’t do that.”
Nino’s cheeks burned, but he nodded. “Okay. If you teach me how. So I really can help.”
“All right - that’s no problem,” Yamashita said, smiling again, “The clinic is closed for the night, so we can get started now.”
------
Though his plan had been to wait up in the living room for Nino to come home so he could apologize, somewhere around midnight Ohno had fallen asleep. He woke with the dawn with the sun bright in his eyes and a horribly stiff neck. Tabe and Shun and Leader were already awake - Leader was holding up Ohno’s feet with his shoulder as he rolled a lint brush down his trousers.
Ohno stood quickly and went straight to Nino’s room, barging in rather than knocking. It was completely empty, and nothing had moved. The sheets were neatly folded. Nino hadn’t slept in his bed that night. The noble heaved a sigh and left, closing the door behind him, walking down the hall slowly. Tabe was
“Tabe-chan, have you seen Nino since yesterday?”
The maid looked up, blinking in surprise. “Have I seen Nino?” she asked, eyes wide. They rolled up in her head as she tried to think. Ohno saw the exact moment when she realized, with dawning panic, that she had nothing to report. “Not since yesterday morning. Isn’t he in his room?”
Ohno sighed and scratched at the back of his neck. He looked away. “He’s not, and I can’t find him. I think he’s hiding.”
“Hiding?” Tabe-chan repeated, frowning. “Why would he hide?”
Ohno winced. “I... I was tired and frustrated when I came home last night. It wasn’t something that was even his fault but... I yelled at him. I took out my frustrations on him. Now I don’t know where he’s gone.”
“But... He wouldn’t have gone,” Tabe-chan gasped.
Ohno blinked. The way she’d said ‘gone’... No. No. Of course not. Nino wouldn’t have gone - he wouldn’t have left them. Of course not he wouldn’t have. He didn’t know the city. He’d only get lost if he left without someone to show him the way back.
Footsteps broke his train of thought. Both he and Tabe-chan whipped around, like those steps might miraculously be Nino’s. But it was only Shun, ascending the stairs. He smiled at the young girl and bowed politely to Ohno when he stopped on the landing.
“Good afternoon, Ohno-sama.”
“Have you seen Nino at all?” Tabe-chan asked before Ohno could respond, her voice anxious.
Shun looked a bit taken aback at the sudden question, but he obediently stopped to think about it. He shook his head. “Not today. At least not yet. I thought he might still be feeling anti-social after meeting his Highness Sakurai - it must have shocked him.” Shun paused looked back and forth at the maid and Ohno, his brow furrowing. “Why? What’s happened?”
“Nothing, probably.” Tabe-chan, said, shaking her head. “I haven’t seen him at all, either.”
“Neither have I,” Ohno said, feeling a panic start to rise from the pit of his stomach. Had Nino really left? What if he’d gone out and hurt himself? “What about Leader and Ryuji and Taichi? Or Gussan and Mabo? Would they have seen him?”
“Your parents are out today, Ohno-sama,” Tabe-chan said softly, “They left early this morning.”
“I’ll call Ryuji and ask him,” Shun said, bowing and starting down the hall.
“Thank you,” the noble said distractedly, starting to pace the hall. He barely even noticed when Shun disappeared. “Who else would have seen Nino? He can’t really have hidden from all of us, can he? There aren’t even that many rooms.”
“Have you looked in the gardens, Ohno-sama? Maybe he’s just gone out.”
“In the cold?”
The young maid tilted her head and chewed on her lip. “Well... He’s looked out the windows a lot since he was allowed out of bed. More since he went into the city with Shu- Oguri-kun.... I think he likes being outside.”
“Ryuji and Leader haven’t seen him,” Shun said from down the hall. “Not since last night. Inside or outside.”
“So he hasn’t gone outside?” Ohno asked, starting to feel desperate.
“Not to the gardens.”
The noble nearly hit the wall in frustration. “Where could he have gone?!”
“Have you considered asking Nakai?” Taichi’s voice asked.
Ohno jumped, but he ran to the head of the stairs. At the foot, leaning against a wall and looking to the front door, was his bodyguard. Even though he wasn’t looking up, Ohno shook his head. “Nakai’s at the front. Nino wouldn’t - he couldn’t leave.”
“He knows how to get out. He knows how to walk. He certainly could leave.”
Ohno frowned. Taichi sounded... almost angry, and Ohno couldn’t think why the bodyguard should be in such a state. But Taichi neither deigned to look at him nor elaborate, and the noble started to chew on his lip.
“Did you ask him?” Even from up the stairs, Ohno could see his bodyguard’s jaw clench. He swallowed heavily, and didn’t answer. Ohno felt the panic building up in his stomach again. “Taichi? Did Nino leave?”
Taichi was silent for a moment. Then: “... Late at night. He just walked out.”
“Where did he go?” Ohno asked, knuckles tightening on the stair bannister.
“I don’t know. Nino didn’t exactly say - Nakai’s pretty sure Nino didn’t know he was there.”
The noble flew down the stairs, dashing out the door and running down the driveway. Taichi stayed where he was, watching the front door slam shut from the force Ohno had used on it. Tabe-chan and Shun stood at the top of the stairs, looking blankly at the bodyguard. There was a long silence.
“What just happened?” Shun finally asked.
“Ohno-sama might have lost something precious,” Taichi said softly, pushing off the wall and walking off.
It was a moment after he’d gone that Tabe-chan finally looked up at Shun, tears starting to gather in her eyes. She grabbed the edge of Shun’s perfectly pressed shirt cuff. The servant looked down at her, startled.
“Did Nino-kun really leave?”
Shun blew out a breath and brushed a tear away from the corner of her eye. “It seems that way.”
“He’s coming back, isn’t he?”
“... I don’t know.”
“Nakai! Nakai!”
The guard, propped on his elbow as he often was and staring out in boredom, barely looked up when Ohno’s voice came down the driveway. He was mildly surprised to hear the young master’s voice - only Leader ever came to visit him (and when the servant did, Nakai usually wound up being dusted). Even so, it didn’t bother to rouse himself. It would be at least five seconds more before the noble would round the last tree and come into view of the guardhouse.
“Nakai!”
“Still no manners,” Nakai mumbled.
A moment later, Ohno appeared around the tree and was barreling towards the watch house; with no intention of stopping, it seemed. Indeed, Nakai backed up to the other wall just as Ohno came crashing into the ledge of his window. Ohno’s eyes were wide and worried, and that more than anything made Nakai actually curious as to why the young master had come.
“Ohno-san? You wanted something?”
“Did you see Nino last night? Did he leave? Did he say where he was going?”
“Yes, yes, no.”
All the hope seemed to go out of Ohno at once, leaving Nakai almost sorry he’d answered as callously and casually as he had. Ohno had apparently not known that Nino was leaving. The noble’s knuckles turned white, clutching the window ledge. He looked to the street, as though the boy might appear just because he willed it. But of course Nino didn’t appear, and Ohno couldn’t quite explain the pain that was clenching his heart.
“Was he at least wearing his coat?” Ohno murmured, looking forlorn, “I don’t want him to catch a cold.”
He turned away and started walking back to the house before Nakai thought to answer.
------
A week later, Ninomiya was still living with Yamapi.
He was a fast learner, which was more than likely why Yamashita’s parents hadn’t bothered to object to his sudden presence as a free part time worker. From the start of his lessons the first night - on the purpose of the cash box buttons - he’d focused intently on everything Yamapi did, not interrupting the lesson unless he had a particularly valid question. Within an hour he’d become able to operate the machine as though he’d been doing it for years.
With the excuse of not wanting to overtax him (really, he just wanted to make sure he had something to teach the slight boy in the morning) Yamashita called it a night after that. He brought Nino upstairs to show him where he would sleep.
The next morning, he was mildly surprised to find that at some point in the night Nino had slipped out of his futon and curled around him on his own. (Mildly surprised, but not complaining.) The lanky boy had gotten out of bed without waking Nino (he wasn’t sure exactly what had brought about the change in futons and didn’t want to risk Nino thinking he’d done something wrong) and brought breakfast to him, waving away the automatic thanks.
They’d spent that morning going over medicines and stock and where to store everything. By the end of the day the inventory was completed in more detail than Yamapi had ever seen it, and his father was thrilled to see the shelves in the back better organized than they’d been in years.
The next day Yamapi had explained the filing system for the patient files. He realized that Nino had memorized it mere minutes when a call came in for a refill and Nino held the folder out to him before Yamapi thought to go looking for it.
Ninomiya had an excellent sense of diligence - though as helpful as it was, it was also a little disturbing. It was disturbing because Nino did exactly as Yamapi told him to do, promptly and to the letter. If he was done and the lanky man didn’t have something else for him to do, he stood quietly at attention a few steps behind and to the left of wherever Yamapi was, unwavering and without complaint. Harsh behavioral training had to be involved to create that kind of diligence.
For a few days Yamapi let it slide. Ninomiya wasn’t showing any signs of distress or strain on his legs, and he was still eating and sleeping properly (though sleeping always seemed to involve switching futons in the middle of the night).
By the end of the week, Yamashita couldn’t stand to have him standing there like that.
The clinic was never terribly busy, but patients had medicines to pick up and refills to request and there were the random cases of a child bruising a knee badly enough to need a bandage, and so the clinic was never really allowed to close until late at night. Unless his parents were out, when there was a lull in activity Yamapi usually sat behind the counter with a book or his food.
Now he sat and watched Nino try not to watch him.
“You know,” he said, during one such lull in activity. Nino jerked, and Yamapi waited until he had his attention before waving his book at him. “The back of my head can’t possibly be that interesting.... You could read or do a puzzle, if you like.”
Nino blushed, but shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can. I’ll loan you any book from our collection, and there’s a library not far from here.”
“No. That’s not it,” the boy said softly, “I... I can’t read. Well... Not well.”
“You... can’t?” Yamashita asked, blinking. “Can you write?”
Nino shrugged and repeated, “Not well.”
Yamapi frowned and decided that he really disliked the Eastlands. He was about to offer lessons in reading for Ninomiya when the bell above the door jangled, alerting them to a new customer. They looked over at the same time. Yamashita worker flew out of his chair to attention. Nino also flew out of his chair, but more because he wanted to run away.
“Excuse me,” said Sakurai cheerily, smiling as always, “but I- oh.”
The prince stopped and stared. Yamapi looked at Nino quickly. The boy was clearly caught in place by Sakurai’s eyes, looking like a trapped deer.
“Ka- Nino. Good to see you again.”
Nino managed a stiff bow of the correct respect and politeness. “And you, your Highness.”
Yamapi filed the conversation away for later. “Can I help you, your Highness?”
“Ah, yes. Sorry. I’m picking up for my mother.”
“Right away.” Yamashita disappeared into the back before Nino could even think to move.
Admittedly, even if he had thought to move, Nino didn’t know what Sho was picking up the way the lanky boy seemed to. It had been a week since they’d seen each other, but there was no way Nino could forget what had happened. He steeled himself for another unsettling meeting with the prince.
Said prince, at least, didn’t seem inclined to talk to him, instead standing in the doorway awkwardly and not looking at him. Nino felt anxious, suddenly, like he should be the one casting for a conversation topic.
“Do you always come here?” he blurted.
“Eh- I- what? Sorry. What?” Sho stuttered.
Nino cursed silently and closed his eyes, looking down. Why had he done that? The prince had stayed quiet - that meant he hadn’t wanted to talk to him. Nino should have just kept his mouth shut. But there was nowhere to go but forward.
“For your mother,” Nino said slowly, opening his eyes, “Do you always come here for her? Don’t you have... your own doctors? In the palace?”
“Of course we have doctors - the best that can be found - but my mother swears by her own ways,” the prince said, smiling. “Ou- father indulges her.”
“Oh.”
Sho looked at Nino, like he wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure if he was allowed. Nino found that stranger than the prince’s belief that Nino was his brother. Of course the prince was allowed to ask him questions - he was the prince.
“What, um... what are you uh, doing... here?” Sho finally asked.
Nino winced. “Working. Sort of.”
“‘Sort of?’”
“We bumped into each other on the street. He’s helping me for now,” Yamapi supplied, purposefully vaguely, coming out from the back room he’d disappeared into.
“Oh. Well,” the prince smiled brightly. He stepped to the counter to take the parcel, and backed away to where he’d been standing before, as though he was afraid to come too near. “At least you’re not bored. So Ohno’s doing well, then?”
“Yes, of course,” Nino replied quickly.
“That’s good, that’s good.” Sho shifted his weight and looked out the shop window. Nino followed his gaze to the guards waiting outside. His lips quirked up in a smile at the prince’s vaguely annoyed but mostly amused sigh. “They’re still not used to this. You’d think they would be; it’s been long enough. Well, I’ll be going. The bill...”
“Will be taken care of as usual,” Yamapi said.
“All right. Good day.”
“Good day, your Highness.”
Yamapi and Nino bowed again as Sho left. They straightened only when the bells stopped jingling against the door. The taller boy pinned an interested gaze on Nino the second they did. “He knows you?”
Nino sighed. “Sort of.”
“How sort of is sort of?”
“We met once before,” Nino said, shifting. “He thinks...”
“That you’re his brother?”
The slight boy blinked. “You - how?”
“Your name. Ninomiya. I just realized now. Ninomiya was the name given to the public when the second son was born. He was taken or killed when the capital was attacked. He would have been... three or four. Sakurai-sama has been looking for him since, they say. My parents still talk about it.” Yamashita gave Nino a considering look. “You do look like you could be.”
“Eeeh?”
“That painting they’ve got. They displayed it as soon as the battle was deemed over and they noticed the second prince was missing. My parents have a reprint from the search notice,” the taller boy pointed to his own cheek and chin, “You’ve got the same marks.”
Nino frowned. “It’s impossible.”
Yamashita shook his head. “Not impossible. Improbable, sure. But still possible.”
The slighter boy shook his head. “It’s- ”
“What happened between you and Ohno-san?” Yamapi interrupted.
There was a long silence. Nino’s shoulders hunched and he looked away. “I-i told you. I can’t go back.”
“You should. I don’t think he wanted you to leave.”
“He said- ”
“I know, you told me. But I don’t think he really meant it. Ohno-san gets... well... not flustered, exactly, but it’s close. He spends a lot of time with his head on another level of existence. He’s not stupid, but he’s not always there. So he missed a lot of things that people learn by experience and by watching others. He’s been courting - ”
“Saya-sama. I know.”
Yamashita sat down on his chair and crossed his legs. “Yes.” He pursed his lips, considering Nino for a moment. “Ohno-san and Saya-san have known each other since they were children. As far as I know, he courts her because his mother asked him to, because he’d never shown much of an interest in any other girl. There’s not much behind it for him besides getting his mother to stop worrying - and I’m sure she knows it because he’s not terribly good at hiding things from her.”
Nino crossed his arms over his chest. “What does that have to do with me?”
The lanky young man peered closely at Nino. “There are things that he’s never felt before, because the feelings just never reached him. I’ve seen it happen: When he feels for the first time, he gets frustrated and off-balanced. Because he feels so off-balanced, he holds it in until he can’t anymore, then he lashes out. It’s scary, because it all comes out at once. He says things that he doesn’t mean and doesn’t want to say, and hates himself for it after.”
Nino shrugged.
Yamapi sighed. Sometimes talking to Nino was more like pulling teeth - and he knew that if he kept going the slighter boy would just close himself off entirely. “All right,” he said quickly, “You don’t have to tell me now. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
The slight boy nodded once. His eyes were shadowed. That was no good; letting him dwell would only undo everything that had changed about Nino’s demeanor over the week. Yamashita looked around, wondering what he could do to get Nino happy and talking again. His eye landed on the book he’d been reading.
He smiled up at Nino. “Hey. Would you like to start learning how to read?”
Disclaimer: (n) A statement disclaiming something, especially responsibility
Pairing: None. Implied Yamashia Tomohisa/Ninomiya Kazunari if you really want to take it that way.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 6484
Notes: Uh... hi? It's alive?
“You know... I’ll still be damned,” Ueda mused idly, kicking his foot a little, “Made it all the way to the palace of the Borderlands. How they managed to keep that loud-mouthed idiot hidden... I do have to hand it to them, those guards did their job.”
Toma turned his sullen gaze to the ceiling. It was the trillionth time he’d heard this line of thinking, and it got less impressive each time. He knew what Ueda did for a living, of course - Ueda had never been secretive about it. But he also didn’t think the Borderland guards were half so simple or ill-trained as the assassin made them out to be.
“I’ve always wanted to have a tour of the palace parts they don’t let you see. Haven’t you, Tottchi?” Ueda asked sweetly. “It’ll be so fun. And to have Ami-chan greeting us when we arrive - it’ll be such a party.”
Toma wondered if Ueda wouldn’t do him the favor of just killing him. He sighed as soon as the thought was complete. Of course Ueda wouldn’t. Ueda wanted to see him suffer - and to have a warm body to do with as he pleased a night - or he’d have killed Toma the moment they’d crossed the borders.
“Now, now. Why so glum, Tottchi? Aren’t you excited to see your friend?” Ueda asked.
The blond boy sat listlessly in his chair, staring out the window. There had to be something he could do. The assassin hadn’t filled him in on any plans, of course, but Toma knew he had to be a part of them. He wouldn’t have been forced along if he weren’t to be included.
At the very least, Kitagawa would have decided that Toma would be enough to draw Aiba out, providing they found him. Now that the palace and all the palace guards were in the circumstances to consider, Toma wasn’t sure what would happen to whatever half-formed plans Ueda might have had.
He wasn’t sure what it meant for Miya, either.
Ueda struck Toma’s left cheek sharply. “Answer me.”
Toma stared at the assassin. “You’re insane.”
Ueda slapped Toma’s right cheek, then pinched it, smiling fondly. “And so very well paid to be. Don’t worry, Tottchi. You’ll be able to play with your friends again soon enough. Probably with me as part of my reward for all my hard work.”
Toma knew he hadn’t been able to hide the look of horror in his eyes. Ueda smiled benignly.
He had everything ready to complete his mission. He’d spent the better part of the week taking tour after tour of the palace. He’d flirted with the pretty tour guides and taken his two favorites out for meals to cover his constant returns, and he’d made all the reconnaissance runs he could between them. He’d memorized the changing of the guards and he knew where they went to have their uniforms fitted and fixed. Soon enough Aiba would be in the possession of Kitagawa once more, and the black haired diplomat dead by his hands. While the city was in panic, he’d slip in and lure Miya from the blond noble’s sight with Tottchi.
Ueda would be a rich man before long.
------
Ninomiya was well and truly lost, and walking quickly and getting better and more truly lost all the time. It didn’t really surprise him; he’d known that he wouldn’t know the city after having only been in it once, and then with a guide. He’d also purposefully gone to in a different direction from the palace - going there might bring him back into contact with Sakurai - Sho - the prince.
Nino didn’t think he could take more of the prince’s vaguely puppy-like face as he tried to impress that, no, Nino wasn’t under any pressure to believe him, or the fond, brotherly smile the prince insisted on bestowing him even though Nino hadn’t known him for longer than a day. And all on the basis of one painting of a toddler. And though Nino had to admit that said toddler did have the same mole on his chin and the same two freckles on his cheek and one under his lip as Nino did, and similar colored eyes and the same unruly hair, and that was all oddly coincidental, the thought that he was the prince’s brother was ludicrous.
When the muscles of his left leg beginning to jump in protest of the constant strain, Ninomiya finally slowed and looked around. There was a bench down the street; Nino hobbled towards it decisively. He’d sit there for a while and rest and then figure out where he was going to go to find food and shelter. Or a job.
As soon as he figured out where he was, of course, because looking around, Nino realized that he couldn’t tell. He didn’t know which way he’d come from to get here and he didn’t know how to get back to Ohno’s house.
If he could get back to Ohno’s house.
If Ohno would ever even take him back.
Nino stopped walking, not bothering to cross the rest of the way to the bench. He sank to his knees in the middle of the mostly deserted street, staring straight ahead. He couldn’t go back, could he? Ohno didn’t want to see him again.
Nino buried his head in his knees. He was lost and hungry and cold and ownerless and completely alone for the first time in his life. He had no work. He had no friends - Jun and Aiba lived in the palace and Nino wasn’t going to be allowed in just because he asked to see them. They were likely too busy to be bothered with him, anyway. Jun had his diplomat-y things to do and Aiba probably spent his days following him around and being a pest. Or maybe they’d taught him how to cook - Aiba had always been interested in the kitchens back in the Eastlands; sneaking to them whenever things seemed quiet and trying to figure out what combined made what dish.
For the first time in years, Nino felt tears welling in his eyes. He had no energy to keep them from falling. He didn’t make a sound; he had too many years of training for that. But his body trembled violently and he had to sit heavily against the wall behind him.
“Hey, boy,” said a soft, male voice, “Are you crying?”
Nino curled more in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs and shaking his head unconvincingly. It was hard to be convincing when your whole body was shuddering. A hand came down on one of his shaking shoulders right away.
“Hey now,” said the voice, “The street isn’t a place for that.”
“We-well I... I don’t... have an-anywhere else... to... to do it,” Nino managed.
The hand on his shoulder moved to his elbow and gripped it gently. Nino tensed, realizing only then that he’d spoken back to whoever was standing there, but the hand that was gripping him wasn’t gripping enough to hurt.
The voice was still friendly when it spoke again. “Well... here, get up. You can come with me and finish crying at my place. You shouldn’t be out here - you’ll get sick again. You’re still not completely healed, are you?”
Nino looked up, blinking in surprise. Hunched over him was a young man who looked about twenty. He smiled gently and Nino couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked familiar. The boy’s eyes were soft and friendly under his wheat-brown hair, and his voice was quiet but firm. “Come on, stand up now.”
This time Nino couldn’t ignore the stranger’s order. He got up with the next tug on his elbow. The other boy was quite a lot taller than Nino was, but lanky and skinny enough that he wasn’t very threatening. He let go of Nino’s elbow and wiped a tear clinging to Nino’s eyelashes with the pad of his thumb.
“You’re Ninomiya.”
Nino blinked. “How did you - ”
“You walked by our clinic not long ago,” the boy said, gesturing over his shoulder, “I thought I recognized your face. Ohno-san brought you to us when you first came here and I came when you got the sniffles. Come on, let’s get you off the street. It’s getting cold early this year.”
Nino nodded dumbly, his head whirling. What clinic? When had he been brought there? He’d never gone out to a clinic with Ohno. He’d only ever been on that single walk with Shun to the palace, and that had brought them to the other end of the city. Ninomiya frowned, trying to remember the face that had stopped in to see him when he’d gotten his cold.
He could only remember Ohno’s mother.
The young man just kept smiling and held out his hand to Nino. Though he didn’t take his hand, Nino stepped carefully to the stranger’s side, stumbling as he put his weight on his left leg and caused it to spasm again.
The stranger made a surprised noise, but caught Nino easily. “I knew you weren’t healed completely. How much walking have you been doing? Didn’t Ohno-san listen to a thing I said?”
“It’s not his fault,” Nino said sharply, shrugging away from the man.
The stranger didn’t look offended. His hand was still curled around Nino’s sleeve and he stared at Nino as if coming to a realization. “Are you in your sleeping dress?” he yelped, shrugging out of his coat. “What on earth are you doing out here in nothing but your night clothes? Where is your coat? Here, put this on.”
Nino gaped at the long coat was shoved into his shoulders.
“Well? Put it on,” the young man said, watching intently until Nino obeyed. “Come with me.”
The stranger didn’t let Nino walk on his own, and no matter how much Nino wanted to his leg wouldn’t have let him walk properly anyway. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that the young man was somehow familiar - in the end that was what let him lean on the stranger’s shoulder.
The lanky man led him down the street, around a corner, and into the back door of a red bricked building. There were two ways to go from the back entrance: an immediate staircase that led up and a hallway that led to where Nino assumed the front of the building was.
“We have a room down here for patients, but nobody’s in there right now.” The familiar-stranger pointed down the hall. “It’s that first door on your right. You can stay there for now. Would you like something to eat?”
Nino nodded dumbly again, feeling dazed, looking around at the paintings on the walls. Then he blinked, realized what he’d been asked, and started shaking his head rapidly. “No, that’s fine, please don’t trouble yourself - ”
“It’s no trouble,” the boy interrupted firmly, “I already made lunch for myself. I always make extra food. It makes dinner easier - leftovers mean less to cook. You wait in the room and I’ll bring something down.”
The former Pet nodded, this time in response to the order. He was hyper-aware of everything - from the coat brushing his ankles and the young man watching him, to the fact that the third and twelfth boards of the floor creaked when he stepped on them - as his feet took him to the first door on the right. He made a mental note to skip those the next time he came down the hall. If he came down the hall again. What if the stranger was going to call for Ohno? Or the police?
And why was he familiar? Nino frowned as he continued to try to place it. He couldn’t think why; he really didn’t remember him from Ohno’s mansion, and he certainly didn’t remember him from the clinic. Nino looked back down the hall before entering the room - the stranger had gone up the stairs.
Nino stepped through the first door on the right and was assaulted by the memory of pink.
He looked around, wide-eyed. The room was wide, but furnished and comfortable. To the right of the door was a table and a desk chair. Along the opposite wall there were three fairly comfortable-looking single beds; lower to the ground than the bed he had slept on in Ohno’s house. They were covered in just-barely-pink sheets and soft-looking light pink blankets. The walls were a warm beige, illuminated by the sun through a large window. Clearly the room was calculated to be soothing.
And Nino had been in here. In theory he remembered now - mostly because Ohno and Aiba had mentioned it offhandedly a few times. In practice he barely remembered it, because it was hard to remember anything from that time that wasn’t pain.
So this was the clinic he’d been brought to when he’d first arrived.
He heard the stranger’s steps before the stranger arrived and turned to face the door.
“Oh,” said the boy’s voice as he entered, “I’m Yama - ”
“Pink.”
“Sorry?”
“The pink. I remember the pink.”
“The pink?”
“I remember the pink,” Nino repeated, “I didn’t know if you were right. I remember the sheets.”
“Did you think I was lying?”
Nino shrugged. “You might have been.” He looked down quickly. “Sorry. That was rude. I didn’t mean to - ”
“Don’t worry about it,” the boy said, tilting his head to the side. “You’re right, after all. I might have been lying. So why did you come with me?”
“... You were being nice to me.”
The young man blinked, like he couldn’t quite contemplate Nino’s logic. Like it was too simple a train of thought for it to be how Nino really worked. Nino was getting used to that expression. Ohno gave it to him all the time.
Nino looked down, coloring faintly to match the sheets. “Sorry. You were telling me your name.”
“Oh, yes. I’m Yamashita Tomohisa.”
Now Ninomiya blinked. He couldn’t remember hearing so many syllables in a name, ever. Not even Lord Kitagawa had such a mouthful. His own new - not so new if you asked Sakurai - name was more often than not shortened to just ‘Nino’.
“Do people call you all that at once?” he blurted.
The young man laughed. “Usually not. It’s usually just Yamashita.”
“Not ‘Yama-pink’?” Nino asked with a tentative smile.
“No, not Yama-pink,” Yamashita said, laughing again.
Nino allowed himself a short laugh this time. The taller boy placed the tray he’d been holding on the small table by the door. The smell of food finally wafted to Nino, and he breathed deeply. His stomach growled loudly and he flushed in embarrassment.
Yamashita laughed and said triumphantly, “I knew you were hungry.”
Nino nodded sheepishly.
“Well, eat up,” Yamashita said, bringing over the bowls and holding one out.
Nino took it hesitantly, watching Yamashita’s hands out of instinct. The taller boy just waited patiently until the bowl was secure in Nino’s hands. Then he backed away and took a seat in a chair that stood by one of the beds, fork already dipping into his food. Nino stood awkwardly, looking into the bowl and wondering if he was to sit on the floor.
Yamashita looked up, mouth full and eyes curious. The fork dropped into the bowl and he waved at the bed as he chewed. “What’re you still standin’ for? I brought you here to get you off your legs. Come. Sit, sit.”
Nino perched carefully on the edge of the bed sitting just far back enough that he was fairly comfortable. It wouldn’t do to have his host thinking he was taking advantage of him. Yamashita either didn’t notice or didn’t mind either way, because he didn’t say anything. They ate mostly in silence, broken only by the sounds of forks hitting the rims or scraping the bottoms of their bowls. It was a comfortable silence, though, as Nino had rarely experienced.
The former Pet was mildly surprised when he put the fork into the bowl and came up with nothing. Blinking, Nino looked into the bowl, which he’d emptied without realizing. He looked sheepishly over at Yamashita, wondering if he was supposed to have waited.
Yamashita just nodded in satisfaction, and smiled. “That’s good. I’d say you’ve made nearly a complete internal recovery if you can eat normally.”
Nino wanted to tell him that eating that much food wasn’t normal for him - that in fact he was just becoming used to it - but he stopped himself. It wasn’t like he wanted to stop being fed, and everybody seemed to think there was something wrong with the amount he ate normally, anyway.
“Thank you. For letting me stay,” he said instead.
“Mind if I ask why you were alone out there?” Yamashita asked, voice casual.
“I...” Nino paused, hearing Ohno’s voice telling him to leave again. He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists on his knees. “I made Ohno-sama angry. He... he told me to leave his sight. I didn’t know what else to do, so I left.”
Yamashita frowned. Ohno telling Nino to get out of his sight? That didn’t sound like the noble at all; especially considering the fuss Ohno had made about Nino’s care when he’d first been brought to the clinic. Nino making someone like Ohno mad didn’t compute, either, given how hard it was to truly upset the noble, and how obliging and anxious a character Nino clearly was. Yamashita sighed. There was a very serious case of mis-communication happening, and he figured the blame was on Nino’s past and Ohno’s inability to understand it.
“So why don’t you go back?” he asked.
Nino shook his head rapidly. “I can’t. I don’t know the way and - that would - how could I? My master told me to leave. He told me he doesn’t want to remember me. I can’t go back. I’d only anger him again.”
Yamashita’s lips thinned in thought. Yep. Definitely had to do with Nino’s life in the Eastlands. He made a mental note to have a long talk with Ohno if this didn’t get resolved very quickly. A talk that would probably involve a few head-smacks. The anxiety level that Nino was showing was no good at all.
“All right,” Yamashita said, “Would you like to stay here?”
The slight boy looked up at him, hopefully. He just as quickly quashed that hope and looked down. “I’ve imposed too much already, Yamashita-sama. Thank you, though.”
Yamashita tutted, waggling a finger at Nino. “None of this suffix business. My name’s Yamashita Tomohisa, and I’m probably the same age as you. Suffixes are for royalty and stuffy old nobles from my grandparent’s era. Hell, Yama-pink is better than a suffix.”
“Yama-pink?” Nino repeated. He wrinkled his nose. “But that doesn’t sound right.”
“Then... Yama. Or Pink, or... or Yama... pi. Yamapi. Call me that.”
“Yamapi,” the boy repeated slowly, testing it. He looked at Yamashita from under his lashes. “If you’re sure.”
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t tell you to use it.”
“O-okay. Yamapi, then.”
“Now that that’s settled. About where you’re going to stay - ”
“I can find another place,” Nino offered quickly.
Yamapi raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “With what money? I know you don’t have any hiding in your pocket-less night clothes.”
“I can... I can work.”
Yamashita’s jaw firmed. That soft tone could only mean one sort of work, and if he let Nino go out to do that, Ohno would kill him. (If he didn’t hang himself for not being able to protect the slight boy, again, first.) “No.”
Nino blinked at him. “Why?”
“You just are not going to do that - you are not even going to consider it. Nobody should have to do that just for money. You will stay here. You can sleep in my room with me; it’s warmer than down here and I don’t want you getting sick again. You can even help me at the counter if you want to feel better about it. Just... don’t do that.”
Nino’s cheeks burned, but he nodded. “Okay. If you teach me how. So I really can help.”
“All right - that’s no problem,” Yamashita said, smiling again, “The clinic is closed for the night, so we can get started now.”
------
Though his plan had been to wait up in the living room for Nino to come home so he could apologize, somewhere around midnight Ohno had fallen asleep. He woke with the dawn with the sun bright in his eyes and a horribly stiff neck. Tabe and Shun and Leader were already awake - Leader was holding up Ohno’s feet with his shoulder as he rolled a lint brush down his trousers.
Ohno stood quickly and went straight to Nino’s room, barging in rather than knocking. It was completely empty, and nothing had moved. The sheets were neatly folded. Nino hadn’t slept in his bed that night. The noble heaved a sigh and left, closing the door behind him, walking down the hall slowly. Tabe was
“Tabe-chan, have you seen Nino since yesterday?”
The maid looked up, blinking in surprise. “Have I seen Nino?” she asked, eyes wide. They rolled up in her head as she tried to think. Ohno saw the exact moment when she realized, with dawning panic, that she had nothing to report. “Not since yesterday morning. Isn’t he in his room?”
Ohno sighed and scratched at the back of his neck. He looked away. “He’s not, and I can’t find him. I think he’s hiding.”
“Hiding?” Tabe-chan repeated, frowning. “Why would he hide?”
Ohno winced. “I... I was tired and frustrated when I came home last night. It wasn’t something that was even his fault but... I yelled at him. I took out my frustrations on him. Now I don’t know where he’s gone.”
“But... He wouldn’t have gone,” Tabe-chan gasped.
Ohno blinked. The way she’d said ‘gone’... No. No. Of course not. Nino wouldn’t have gone - he wouldn’t have left them. Of course not he wouldn’t have. He didn’t know the city. He’d only get lost if he left without someone to show him the way back.
Footsteps broke his train of thought. Both he and Tabe-chan whipped around, like those steps might miraculously be Nino’s. But it was only Shun, ascending the stairs. He smiled at the young girl and bowed politely to Ohno when he stopped on the landing.
“Good afternoon, Ohno-sama.”
“Have you seen Nino at all?” Tabe-chan asked before Ohno could respond, her voice anxious.
Shun looked a bit taken aback at the sudden question, but he obediently stopped to think about it. He shook his head. “Not today. At least not yet. I thought he might still be feeling anti-social after meeting his Highness Sakurai - it must have shocked him.” Shun paused looked back and forth at the maid and Ohno, his brow furrowing. “Why? What’s happened?”
“Nothing, probably.” Tabe-chan, said, shaking her head. “I haven’t seen him at all, either.”
“Neither have I,” Ohno said, feeling a panic start to rise from the pit of his stomach. Had Nino really left? What if he’d gone out and hurt himself? “What about Leader and Ryuji and Taichi? Or Gussan and Mabo? Would they have seen him?”
“Your parents are out today, Ohno-sama,” Tabe-chan said softly, “They left early this morning.”
“I’ll call Ryuji and ask him,” Shun said, bowing and starting down the hall.
“Thank you,” the noble said distractedly, starting to pace the hall. He barely even noticed when Shun disappeared. “Who else would have seen Nino? He can’t really have hidden from all of us, can he? There aren’t even that many rooms.”
“Have you looked in the gardens, Ohno-sama? Maybe he’s just gone out.”
“In the cold?”
The young maid tilted her head and chewed on her lip. “Well... He’s looked out the windows a lot since he was allowed out of bed. More since he went into the city with Shu- Oguri-kun.... I think he likes being outside.”
“Ryuji and Leader haven’t seen him,” Shun said from down the hall. “Not since last night. Inside or outside.”
“So he hasn’t gone outside?” Ohno asked, starting to feel desperate.
“Not to the gardens.”
The noble nearly hit the wall in frustration. “Where could he have gone?!”
“Have you considered asking Nakai?” Taichi’s voice asked.
Ohno jumped, but he ran to the head of the stairs. At the foot, leaning against a wall and looking to the front door, was his bodyguard. Even though he wasn’t looking up, Ohno shook his head. “Nakai’s at the front. Nino wouldn’t - he couldn’t leave.”
“He knows how to get out. He knows how to walk. He certainly could leave.”
Ohno frowned. Taichi sounded... almost angry, and Ohno couldn’t think why the bodyguard should be in such a state. But Taichi neither deigned to look at him nor elaborate, and the noble started to chew on his lip.
“Did you ask him?” Even from up the stairs, Ohno could see his bodyguard’s jaw clench. He swallowed heavily, and didn’t answer. Ohno felt the panic building up in his stomach again. “Taichi? Did Nino leave?”
Taichi was silent for a moment. Then: “... Late at night. He just walked out.”
“Where did he go?” Ohno asked, knuckles tightening on the stair bannister.
“I don’t know. Nino didn’t exactly say - Nakai’s pretty sure Nino didn’t know he was there.”
The noble flew down the stairs, dashing out the door and running down the driveway. Taichi stayed where he was, watching the front door slam shut from the force Ohno had used on it. Tabe-chan and Shun stood at the top of the stairs, looking blankly at the bodyguard. There was a long silence.
“What just happened?” Shun finally asked.
“Ohno-sama might have lost something precious,” Taichi said softly, pushing off the wall and walking off.
It was a moment after he’d gone that Tabe-chan finally looked up at Shun, tears starting to gather in her eyes. She grabbed the edge of Shun’s perfectly pressed shirt cuff. The servant looked down at her, startled.
“Did Nino-kun really leave?”
Shun blew out a breath and brushed a tear away from the corner of her eye. “It seems that way.”
“He’s coming back, isn’t he?”
“... I don’t know.”
“Nakai! Nakai!”
The guard, propped on his elbow as he often was and staring out in boredom, barely looked up when Ohno’s voice came down the driveway. He was mildly surprised to hear the young master’s voice - only Leader ever came to visit him (and when the servant did, Nakai usually wound up being dusted). Even so, it didn’t bother to rouse himself. It would be at least five seconds more before the noble would round the last tree and come into view of the guardhouse.
“Nakai!”
“Still no manners,” Nakai mumbled.
A moment later, Ohno appeared around the tree and was barreling towards the watch house; with no intention of stopping, it seemed. Indeed, Nakai backed up to the other wall just as Ohno came crashing into the ledge of his window. Ohno’s eyes were wide and worried, and that more than anything made Nakai actually curious as to why the young master had come.
“Ohno-san? You wanted something?”
“Did you see Nino last night? Did he leave? Did he say where he was going?”
“Yes, yes, no.”
All the hope seemed to go out of Ohno at once, leaving Nakai almost sorry he’d answered as callously and casually as he had. Ohno had apparently not known that Nino was leaving. The noble’s knuckles turned white, clutching the window ledge. He looked to the street, as though the boy might appear just because he willed it. But of course Nino didn’t appear, and Ohno couldn’t quite explain the pain that was clenching his heart.
“Was he at least wearing his coat?” Ohno murmured, looking forlorn, “I don’t want him to catch a cold.”
He turned away and started walking back to the house before Nakai thought to answer.
------
A week later, Ninomiya was still living with Yamapi.
He was a fast learner, which was more than likely why Yamashita’s parents hadn’t bothered to object to his sudden presence as a free part time worker. From the start of his lessons the first night - on the purpose of the cash box buttons - he’d focused intently on everything Yamapi did, not interrupting the lesson unless he had a particularly valid question. Within an hour he’d become able to operate the machine as though he’d been doing it for years.
With the excuse of not wanting to overtax him (really, he just wanted to make sure he had something to teach the slight boy in the morning) Yamashita called it a night after that. He brought Nino upstairs to show him where he would sleep.
The next morning, he was mildly surprised to find that at some point in the night Nino had slipped out of his futon and curled around him on his own. (Mildly surprised, but not complaining.) The lanky boy had gotten out of bed without waking Nino (he wasn’t sure exactly what had brought about the change in futons and didn’t want to risk Nino thinking he’d done something wrong) and brought breakfast to him, waving away the automatic thanks.
They’d spent that morning going over medicines and stock and where to store everything. By the end of the day the inventory was completed in more detail than Yamapi had ever seen it, and his father was thrilled to see the shelves in the back better organized than they’d been in years.
The next day Yamapi had explained the filing system for the patient files. He realized that Nino had memorized it mere minutes when a call came in for a refill and Nino held the folder out to him before Yamapi thought to go looking for it.
Ninomiya had an excellent sense of diligence - though as helpful as it was, it was also a little disturbing. It was disturbing because Nino did exactly as Yamapi told him to do, promptly and to the letter. If he was done and the lanky man didn’t have something else for him to do, he stood quietly at attention a few steps behind and to the left of wherever Yamapi was, unwavering and without complaint. Harsh behavioral training had to be involved to create that kind of diligence.
For a few days Yamapi let it slide. Ninomiya wasn’t showing any signs of distress or strain on his legs, and he was still eating and sleeping properly (though sleeping always seemed to involve switching futons in the middle of the night).
By the end of the week, Yamashita couldn’t stand to have him standing there like that.
The clinic was never terribly busy, but patients had medicines to pick up and refills to request and there were the random cases of a child bruising a knee badly enough to need a bandage, and so the clinic was never really allowed to close until late at night. Unless his parents were out, when there was a lull in activity Yamapi usually sat behind the counter with a book or his food.
Now he sat and watched Nino try not to watch him.
“You know,” he said, during one such lull in activity. Nino jerked, and Yamapi waited until he had his attention before waving his book at him. “The back of my head can’t possibly be that interesting.... You could read or do a puzzle, if you like.”
Nino blushed, but shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can. I’ll loan you any book from our collection, and there’s a library not far from here.”
“No. That’s not it,” the boy said softly, “I... I can’t read. Well... Not well.”
“You... can’t?” Yamashita asked, blinking. “Can you write?”
Nino shrugged and repeated, “Not well.”
Yamapi frowned and decided that he really disliked the Eastlands. He was about to offer lessons in reading for Ninomiya when the bell above the door jangled, alerting them to a new customer. They looked over at the same time. Yamashita worker flew out of his chair to attention. Nino also flew out of his chair, but more because he wanted to run away.
“Excuse me,” said Sakurai cheerily, smiling as always, “but I- oh.”
The prince stopped and stared. Yamapi looked at Nino quickly. The boy was clearly caught in place by Sakurai’s eyes, looking like a trapped deer.
“Ka- Nino. Good to see you again.”
Nino managed a stiff bow of the correct respect and politeness. “And you, your Highness.”
Yamapi filed the conversation away for later. “Can I help you, your Highness?”
“Ah, yes. Sorry. I’m picking up for my mother.”
“Right away.” Yamashita disappeared into the back before Nino could even think to move.
Admittedly, even if he had thought to move, Nino didn’t know what Sho was picking up the way the lanky boy seemed to. It had been a week since they’d seen each other, but there was no way Nino could forget what had happened. He steeled himself for another unsettling meeting with the prince.
Said prince, at least, didn’t seem inclined to talk to him, instead standing in the doorway awkwardly and not looking at him. Nino felt anxious, suddenly, like he should be the one casting for a conversation topic.
“Do you always come here?” he blurted.
“Eh- I- what? Sorry. What?” Sho stuttered.
Nino cursed silently and closed his eyes, looking down. Why had he done that? The prince had stayed quiet - that meant he hadn’t wanted to talk to him. Nino should have just kept his mouth shut. But there was nowhere to go but forward.
“For your mother,” Nino said slowly, opening his eyes, “Do you always come here for her? Don’t you have... your own doctors? In the palace?”
“Of course we have doctors - the best that can be found - but my mother swears by her own ways,” the prince said, smiling. “Ou- father indulges her.”
“Oh.”
Sho looked at Nino, like he wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure if he was allowed. Nino found that stranger than the prince’s belief that Nino was his brother. Of course the prince was allowed to ask him questions - he was the prince.
“What, um... what are you uh, doing... here?” Sho finally asked.
Nino winced. “Working. Sort of.”
“‘Sort of?’”
“We bumped into each other on the street. He’s helping me for now,” Yamapi supplied, purposefully vaguely, coming out from the back room he’d disappeared into.
“Oh. Well,” the prince smiled brightly. He stepped to the counter to take the parcel, and backed away to where he’d been standing before, as though he was afraid to come too near. “At least you’re not bored. So Ohno’s doing well, then?”
“Yes, of course,” Nino replied quickly.
“That’s good, that’s good.” Sho shifted his weight and looked out the shop window. Nino followed his gaze to the guards waiting outside. His lips quirked up in a smile at the prince’s vaguely annoyed but mostly amused sigh. “They’re still not used to this. You’d think they would be; it’s been long enough. Well, I’ll be going. The bill...”
“Will be taken care of as usual,” Yamapi said.
“All right. Good day.”
“Good day, your Highness.”
Yamapi and Nino bowed again as Sho left. They straightened only when the bells stopped jingling against the door. The taller boy pinned an interested gaze on Nino the second they did. “He knows you?”
Nino sighed. “Sort of.”
“How sort of is sort of?”
“We met once before,” Nino said, shifting. “He thinks...”
“That you’re his brother?”
The slight boy blinked. “You - how?”
“Your name. Ninomiya. I just realized now. Ninomiya was the name given to the public when the second son was born. He was taken or killed when the capital was attacked. He would have been... three or four. Sakurai-sama has been looking for him since, they say. My parents still talk about it.” Yamashita gave Nino a considering look. “You do look like you could be.”
“Eeeh?”
“That painting they’ve got. They displayed it as soon as the battle was deemed over and they noticed the second prince was missing. My parents have a reprint from the search notice,” the taller boy pointed to his own cheek and chin, “You’ve got the same marks.”
Nino frowned. “It’s impossible.”
Yamashita shook his head. “Not impossible. Improbable, sure. But still possible.”
The slighter boy shook his head. “It’s- ”
“What happened between you and Ohno-san?” Yamapi interrupted.
There was a long silence. Nino’s shoulders hunched and he looked away. “I-i told you. I can’t go back.”
“You should. I don’t think he wanted you to leave.”
“He said- ”
“I know, you told me. But I don’t think he really meant it. Ohno-san gets... well... not flustered, exactly, but it’s close. He spends a lot of time with his head on another level of existence. He’s not stupid, but he’s not always there. So he missed a lot of things that people learn by experience and by watching others. He’s been courting - ”
“Saya-sama. I know.”
Yamashita sat down on his chair and crossed his legs. “Yes.” He pursed his lips, considering Nino for a moment. “Ohno-san and Saya-san have known each other since they were children. As far as I know, he courts her because his mother asked him to, because he’d never shown much of an interest in any other girl. There’s not much behind it for him besides getting his mother to stop worrying - and I’m sure she knows it because he’s not terribly good at hiding things from her.”
Nino crossed his arms over his chest. “What does that have to do with me?”
The lanky young man peered closely at Nino. “There are things that he’s never felt before, because the feelings just never reached him. I’ve seen it happen: When he feels for the first time, he gets frustrated and off-balanced. Because he feels so off-balanced, he holds it in until he can’t anymore, then he lashes out. It’s scary, because it all comes out at once. He says things that he doesn’t mean and doesn’t want to say, and hates himself for it after.”
Nino shrugged.
Yamapi sighed. Sometimes talking to Nino was more like pulling teeth - and he knew that if he kept going the slighter boy would just close himself off entirely. “All right,” he said quickly, “You don’t have to tell me now. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
The slight boy nodded once. His eyes were shadowed. That was no good; letting him dwell would only undo everything that had changed about Nino’s demeanor over the week. Yamashita looked around, wondering what he could do to get Nino happy and talking again. His eye landed on the book he’d been reading.
He smiled up at Nino. “Hey. Would you like to start learning how to read?”