Chapter Text
Suguru’s body grows faint, knuckles burning bright white with fury and disbelief at his father’s words, the serious expression on his face making Suguru grow delirious and tired. “There will be no discussion my son,” he says with finality in his tone as though that will calm any of the storm circling through Suguru’s head.
No discussion he says, it’s a ridiculous notion and it sends Suguru into a tailspin quite frankly.
“But Fa-” he begins, his tongue aching to argue, to fight what he deems the biggest injustice life could ever subject him to.
It isn’t exactly that Suguru hasn’t always known his purpose is to marry, he has always known his primary role as the omega son of a King is synonymous to that of a bride and nothing more. While his father may rule with a lenient hand and a kind heart, there are many traditions not even his tenderness can escape from; however, Suguru’s issue lies not with the unfairness but with the timing of all this.
Suguru’s eyebrows crease, heart clenching with tension and head circulating a million thoughts, none of which are pleasant and all of which make his stomach churn with anxiety. His eyes soften with an acid that betrays his heart, makes his emotions all too apparent and makes him seem all too painfully omegan. He can’t leave now, he won’t. A shaky breath falls off his lips, gaze meeting his father’s to find the alpha’s stern expression melting into something softer and sweeter, more paternal; it makes Suguru’s heart bleed.
“Father, I cannot leave now,” he tries to say what it is he’s thinking, tries to explain how terrified he is that something will happen while he is away and he will be left with nothing to mourn but instead the thought merely sits in his throat and makes him feel breathless and uneasy. What he means to say is that he cannot leave while the Kamo continue to attack their lands. What he means to say is that he cannot leave his father all alone here because if something were to happen while Suguru were gone he would never forgive himself. What he means to say is that he cannot get married to some stranger and pretend to play happy family knowing that his father is fighting a grand battle to protect the safety of their people.
What Suguru truly means to say, is that he has no interest in marrying a stranger so far from home, he’d much sooner choose to marry a palace stableman than this King Gojo .
Suguru’s father inches closer, releasing soothing pheromones, parental and dominant and Suguru can’t help the way his body relaxes a little, fists loosening slightly and shoulders slumping. It’s a cheeky tactic, completely unfair, plays on his weaknesses and makes him more yielding when he’d rather be combative. Still, there is part of him mildly appreciative of the pheromones surrounding his body, encapsulating him with a warmth and comfort he has not experienced in years. It’s a stark reminder, the warmth he’s fighting to stay close to, the comfort of his only parent.
“Suguru, listen to me,” he says with softness twinkling in brown earthy eyes, it’s a twinkle Suguru hasn’t seen in his father since his mother died, he hasn’t seen that kind of affection in his, now, usually aloof father in years. Obediently, he looks up, letting his father speak, hearing him out for a moment.
“I find no peace of mind sleeping while you remain within these palace walls.” He says earnestly, “I cannot focus on my duty to our people when my heart remains here, outside of me in a place where I cannot constantly be by his side to protect him. My Suguru,” Kenjaku's face twists in a pained expression, one shadowed by the grief only a widow could carry, “you look so much like your mother these days,” his thumb stroking the soft skin of Suguru’s cheek. “There is no issue here but the worries of a father, safety will find the people of the Hanadouzu but only if I may focus on the work I have to do.”
“And for that you must cast me aside? Throw me to a kingdom that sees a different face of the moon entirely? Father, why must I go so far and so soon? Why must I go to a place that sees dusk while you see dawn?” Suguru argues, eyes welling up with a fresh wave of tears. He understands to some extent, there is logic in his father’s words but still, he cannot fathom it. He is a princess and his role should be to stay and die with his people if that is his fate, not to run away and hope they remain standing while he cowers in the arms of a husband he does not know.
Suguru’s father huffs out a little chuckle, tucking a strand of Suguru’s hair behind his ear.
“You truly are such a caring princess, you will make a fine mother one day, Suguru, and it will be a sight I must see when I have fought hard and long for our home. I could not protect your mother, please, allow me to protect you.” He says and it’s a trump card, it’s something Suguru can never beat because, like it or not, Suguru’s mother could have been protected but that night, she simply was not and now she is dead. “The Gojo King is smart and he is strong, he is the only king I can trust with your life, Suguru.” Suguru’s heart thunders, he knows nothing about that king and he won’t pretend that he even really cares. His defiance does not stem from a reluctance caused by the opposing king but rather, a deep desire within Suguru to stay home, by his nation’s side, beside his father.
He could not care less for the strength the king carries within pampered muscles or the intelligence he is supplied by well paid advisors, he only cares that his kingdom, his home, his mother’s final resting place may be destroyed while he lives the pampered life of a king’s wife.
“Fa-” he says, trying to convince his father once more not to send him off but before he can, his father interjects, face turning stern once more and eyes flaring with a look one would give to a disobedient pup. Suguru supposes that is exactly what he’s acting like but, well, he thinks it’s only fair that he fight for what he believes is right.
Kenjaku’s hand leaves Suguru’s face and he takes a step back to take Suguru in. “No more on this Suguru, I will not see you for a long time and I do not wish for my last words to you to be chiding in nature. Please try to understand why I am doing this but you are still young so, if you cannot then at least return to your chambers to pack up your belongings. I will not be having any further discussion.” Kenjaku’s voice is firm, unwavering and if Suguru were younger he might have felt his stern words cutting deeper but right now all he can feel is a dull ache, a longing for home before he has even left the walls he grew up in.
Resigned, Suguru hangs his head low and takes a deep breath. He bows down slightly, a show of respect, not fatherly but kingly, “of course, your majesty,” he says back, returning a level of apathy of his own. It’s all fake of course, a facade of nonchalance when he is in fact anything but nonchalant, the only act that will make his father feel any kind of pain.
His footsteps are quick and brusque, featherlight against the hardwood floors as he does his best to maintain his composure despite the fact it feels like his foundations are crumbling beneath his feet and the rubble has crushed his heart.
Suguru is Kenjaku’s only son, much to the rest of the royal family’s displeasure, and so, leaving these walls means leaving Kenjaku with no family within riding distance.
If something were to happen…Suguru can hardly bear to think about it. Palace officials pass him by, some looking strategic, discussing where exactly defences and knights must be sent to secure the borders, others looking relaxed, none of which seem to acknowledge him long enough to see through his thick veil where he’s been left a nervous wreck, a million thoughts twisting through him like a blizzard.
These halls, tall and scuffed, used to house his laughter and if he listened carefully he could probably still hear the soft responsive chuckles of his mother residing within the walls. The portraits were his friends and if he were asked today, he would still be able to name each portrait from a simple brushstroke alone. This is his home. This is his nation. How can he leave his home and never come back? Even when his father wins the war, Suguru will not be able to return home, he will not wander these halls or pass by the cracks in the walls kept track of since childhood. He will not own the beds or the curtains and he will only return as a guest, he will only return as a wife of a king instead of the son of a man.
With a heavy heart, he pushes open the doors to his room, a sight that will no longer be home for him, one that will become a rarity to even visit. One day, maybe sooner than he can even really comprehend right now, he will visit this room, a child’s hand in his – his child’s hand clutching onto his finger– as he shows them the room he grew up in. The child’s eyes will open in amazement at the tall ceiling and the large canopy bed for a nest and their mouth will gape at the majestic view of the palace gardens through the green stained glass. Their little feet will patter against the floor in a mad dash to race over to Suguru’s drawings pinned to the walls and their lips will utter the question “did you draw this mama?” and Suguru will say yes with a smile and a memory on the mind and tell them that he learned from the best. He will sit them down and he will explain how his mother would teach him how to use charcoal and lead to make a recreation of pure beauty and he will show them that taking note of the world’s marvels is one of life’s greatest joys.
He frowns at the image in his mind, the face of his child is blurry. He thinks they must take after their father whom Suguru has never seen nor heard of and that disappoints him, he’d like to think the child he will carry for 9 months would be more reminiscent of him but it is only an imagined dream for now and so, when he has more control over his thoughts, he can take the time to carve out the image of a child that looks like him running through the halls and playing with his father.
A knock –well six consecutive rather excited knocks– at his door brings him out of his reverie, slamming him back to reality. There is no child admiring his room or his art or tugging at his robes for Suguru’s attention. Instead there is a room, full of his belongings that must be packed up to take in the carriage for tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
His father really gave him no notice or time to argue, simply shipped him off on the next carriage ride to the other side of the world and now Suguru has no choice but to pack his stuff up and leave. He’s no fool, he knows his father has the carriage staff trained to ignore any and all of Suguru’s tricks. He knows the carriage staff will be people who have known Suguru all his life and are very well accustomed to saying no to the bratty princess.
“Come in,” he says, the door creaking at the same angle it always does, a little quirk of the room he will miss. A bitter smile graces his face, he’ll miss so much of this world he’s grown up in.
After a breath, Haibara walks in, jittery with excitement it seems and the sight, albeit nothing unusual, makes Suguru smile.
He will miss Haibara so mu-
“We’re going to Rikugan!” Haibara interrupts Suguru’s lamenting thoughts with a harsh cry, enthusiasm bubbling brightly in big brown eyes. It takes a second, maybe two, but before he knows it, Suguru is smiling wide and running over to Haibara, tossing his arms over the beta’s shoulders. He feels a well of emotion in the back of his throat but this time, it’s much smaller, he can speak around it.
“You’re coming with me?” Suguru asks, he doesn’t need to but he says it anyway, a grateful breath grazing over his lips. Haibara, his best friend, is coming with him to these foreign lands and it’s a small comfort for sure, but it is better than nothing.
“Yes, did the king forget to tell you?” Haibara asks, hands wrapping over Suguru’s back to return the hug. Despite his parentage, Haibara has similarly calloused hands as Suguru, the two boys having taken to acts of manual labour a princess most certainly shouldn’t have been doing when outside of his studies.
Thankfully, Suguru’s parents have always been fairly lax in that regard.
“It must have slipped his mind,” Suguru replies, pulling away from the embrace to look at his best friend, only a fraction taller than him. Haibara agrees with a shrug of his shoulders before smiling at the princess with glee.
“It’s wonderful! New lands to explore, what fun!” After a small pause he continues, “and you will be married too, which is so very exciting!” His exclaims echo through Suguru’s head, making dread begin to branch out of his stomach and through the rest of his body. Like a wildfire, anxiety spreads through his body, burning and singeing underneath his skin and setting each of his nerves ablaze.
He will be married and to a stranger no less. A stranger more than twelve days journey away from home.
“Haibara, I do not wish to marry a man so far from home, I wish to stay here. I wish to stand by my nation in its time of peril,” he says quietly, only allowing his dearest friend into the privacy of his thoughts. He knows nothing will come from his confiding in Haibara, he knows there is nothing he nor Haibara can do. With his father’s firm tone still reverberating through his head he knows that the decision is as good as done and there is no turning back on it now.
Suguru watches, his friend’s face souring slightly.
“You wish for us to stay here? If I may speak frankly, your majesty, this place, our kingdom is… well, it holds no future for us.” Haibara says, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, minutely enough that Suguru can only really attribute them to a slight twitch rather than anything malicious. Still, his words cut deep and harsh.
“Haibara, how could you say that?” Eyes widening in surprise and jaw hanging open with disbelief. There is hope and there is a future here, there will always be a future here as long as Suguru’s father is alive. “This is our home, our people. We are abandoning our families for a future that seems far more bleak than the one I see for us here.”
Haibara huffs out a little noise, moving closer to Suguru with a twinkle in his eyes, something close to excitement but just a little twisted. It’s like this weird mix of excitement and exhilaration and Suguru’s heart hammers seeing his friend like this, with his feelings bubbling through his core and to the surface of his soul like this. Haibara seems as though there’s nothing that sounds better than leaving this place and well he supposes it makes sense. Haibara does not have the attachment to Hanadouzu that Suguru has. He is not a princess and he is not an omega, to him, this must all sound like an adventure with his best friend or perhaps an opportunity for refuge, an assurance of survival.
“Your majesty, we will find new people, you and I. We will conquer new lands. This new world will be for us and us alone.” There’s a glimmer in Haibara’s eyes that sets each of Suguru’s nerve endings alight and makes a shiver dig its way up his spine.
For us and us alone.
Suguru breathes out a breath and nods a little.
“I must ready my belongings,” he begins, feeling as though he must sound hysterical for both of his closest confidantes to have dismissed him so readily. “I shall see you tomorrow, Haibara.” Suguru says, voice sounding a little pitiful to his ears and head ringing with frustration.
Haibara, respectfully, doesn’t put up too much of a fight about it either, instead opting to bow his head and smile at the young princess, head tilting down and mouth curving up. “Tomorrow will be the beginning of an adventure for us, you’ll see.” Haibara concludes before pulling the door shut and leaving Suguru in his room all alone to pack up as much of his life as he can in a few small travel bags.
Usually, he might have had maids to assist him with this task, in fact, under usual circumstances, he might have had maids pack up all of his belongings for him while he could have sat at his desk and drawn the emotions hanging heavily over him. Not now though, not with the situation as dire as it is.
Suguru’s father dissolved each maid and butler of their duties a few months ago, citing that it was more important for them to remain in their homes, protecting their families as well as his. Suguru had heard the conversation between his father and one of his advisors, Hanami, and had concluded that the reason for their dismissals was more likely to be for protection of the castle, to prevent too many faces coming in and going out.
It’s not exactly like Suguru minds the downsize all that much, now the only people that the palace really employs are the people that were residents anyway. The cook and Suguru’s nursemaid and Haibara’s parents, there are a few advisors and diplomats and then of course, the king and the princess himself.
And so, Suguru is left to pack up his life.
He collects a few dresses, some of his favourites, the ones gifted by his mother and father which were most certainly not his favourites at the time but, now, well now he adores them. They are intricate and beaded, made of rich fabrics that can be a little suffocating perhaps but they’re beautiful. They fit him perfectly, match his skin tone to a T and he thinks he should take them because who else will ever love him enough to have a custom gown made to compliment his every feature if not his parents.
Suguru wants to take with him a piece of all the love he has ever felt. He wants to take each word and each memory to Rikugan with him. He wants to stay and he wants to absorb all that he has in this world but it’s not an option. His duty is set, bound to that of the Gojo King far away from his home.
He packs up a drawing, one of his mother, a picture he made when he was young and only starting out. It’s not his favourite, in fact he thinks he made a travesty of his beautiful mother but at the time he’d been no older than five years old and instead of scolding him, she’d pressed her lips to the page and left a ruby red lipstick stain at the top proclaiming her love for it and for him. She’d kissed his cheeks over and over until he was breathless with giggles and she’d stained his cheeks red too.
His mother was the kindest woman to ever live.
He packs the picture up carefully, making sure that it’s tucked into a part of the bag that won’t allow for it to be damaged or stained. If there’s one thing Suguru won’t allow for, it’s the memory of his mother being sullied or marred.
Will his husband let him hang it in their marital chamber? Suguru does not know how exactly their relationship will work nor does he want to think about it right now. His head aches with all of today’s events and he can’t bring himself to linger on the thought of how exactly he’ll live with the person who has practically bought him like cattle. There is no telling what their marriage will be like but Suguru knows in his heart that he will hold some level of resentment for the alpha. It might be unfounded, it might not be, whether it is fair or not is not Suguru’s concern, he can already feel a dislike for the alpha blossoming in his chest, citing him as the reason Suguru has to travel so far and leave everything he has ever known behind.
He finds it is much easier to pin this crime on an alpha he has never met before than to blame his father who is only trying to do right by their people.
Before he can even realise it himself, his cheeks are moist and memories are piling up in his head. He can still feel the faint warmth of his mother’s hands cupping his, telling him that he would find a good alpha, one that will love him unconditionally like his father loves her. He can still remember sticking his tongue out at her and telling her that he would never find an alpha because alphas are bossy before feeling a tug on his arm and hearing Haibara proclaim himself Suguru’s future husband to both of his parents. Suguru giggles faintly at the memory. It was in the garden, beside the maze where the white roses are planted, he and Haibara had had dirt on their faces from falling into the mud and Suguru’s father had made a passing comment about how unladylike his behaviour was. It hadn’t been chiding as much as it had been an affectionate hum of disapproval he supposes, still, his mother had scolded him for it and told Suguru that someone would love him for exactly who he was.
He sniffles a little at the thought.
If their lands weren’t under siege, perhaps he could have found a mate himself. One that would love him for exactly who he is, just like his mother had told him they would. He doesn’t have that privilege now.
He’d always imagined that during one of the visits with a neighbouring kingdom, Suguru might catch the eye of a kind alpha that would do everything in his power to court Suguru the way he deserved.
Suguru sighs at the now shattered dream.
Before he can continue his packing, another knock interrupts him. Not a series this time, just a firm heavy knock.
“Come in,” he says, doing his best to conceal the forlorn tone of his voice and the sniffles etched into his cheeks.
The heavy ornate door opens to reveal Kenjaku, his father, standing with a similarly pained expression, eyebrows crumpled and lips hanging open.
“My Suguru,” he says, voice raw enough that Suguru can sense that there he has sobbed his throat to tenderness, “my dear son.” He doesn’t come in all the way but he doesn’t have to, Suguru shoots up from his bed, pain wracking over him once more as he darts over into his father’s open awaiting arms.
It’s cathartic when he lets his body simply crash into strong arms that were made to protect him and keep him safe from the rest of the world. He feels like a child again and his father allows it entirely. He places a hand on the back of Suguru’s hair stroking the locks, letting soft tears fall from his eyes as he does his best to articulate his thoughts. Suguru, on the other hand, is a mess, tears hammering down the plush sides of his face and scent running rampant with emotion and stress.
“Don’t make me go, baba,” he says, “I don’t want to leave you.”
Suguru’s father huffs out a sound, something reminiscent of a laugh but more bitter. “Suguru, my son, you are making this so difficult for me. I want to see you everyday but,” Kenjaku staggers out a deep breath, a guttural one that comes deep from his soul, “I cannot live with the thought that something might happen to you here when I am not around.”
“Baba,” it’s the only word Suguru can really bring himself to say because he gets it, he really does, his father has the same exact fear he does.
Kenjaku doesn’t answer the call, simply holding onto Suguru’s body tighter, clinging to it as though it is the last time he will ever do so.
After a few moments, a few breaths of Kenjaku’s calming scent, Suguru finds his ability to speak again and says through a hoarse voice, “Baba, I will be safe, I am strong, please allow me to stay here by your side.” He tries to make a desperate plea but, his body, his mind, his words feel too weak to get the idea across as much as they should.
“Suguru, don’t make me say no to you again, I cannot bear it.”
The words serve as answer enough. Suguru still has to go, he must be cast off to the other side of the lands as a bride.
“You will not be at my wedding,” Suguru breathes out, nuzzling his head further into his father’s shoulder, nose full of his father’s scent. He takes as much of the homely scent in as he can, knowing now, accepting that it will be his last time smelling it for some time. While Kenjaku’s hand continues to stroke Suguru’s hair lovingly, he breathes out a deep sigh.
“I know my son, you will have to forgive your baba for his failure.” He says before he presses a kiss to the top of Suguru’s head affectionately, “I will be there in spirit though, my sweet son. You will be the most wondrous bride I am sure.”
Suguru feels emotions choking him up again but before more tears can fall from his eyes, his father pulls back, staring at him intently before grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room to follow him.
“Where are we going?” Suguru asks. He feels like a child again, being hugged and comforted, crying like a baby and not knowing anything until it’s the last moment.
“Patience,” Kenjaku responds, tossing a kind smile to his son over his shoulder.
Resigned, Suguru lets himself be pulled through the hallways he once played in, a little less distraught now that he’s had a good cry and he can feel the weight of his father’s hand in his. Something about being guided by his father like this is comforting, like even though he’s an adult now, even though he’s about to be someone’s wife, he can still rely on his father to guide him, he can switch him brain off entirely when he’s with his father because he will never let any harm come to Suguru.
Kenjaku opens a door to a room Suguru has only been inside of once. It’s his mother’s jewellery room and it’s full from the ceiling to the floor. Suguru smiles at the sight but it’s bittersweet at best. As much as he enjoys the sight of seeing how spoiled his mother was during their courting period –and even after their marriage– he finds himself deflating a little knowing that his husband will never love him enough to gift him with jewels and treasures like this. He deflates a little knowing that someone who was so loved is now gone and only her belongings remain and he deflates even more when he takes note of the sad expression taking hold of his father’s face.
Kenjaku lets go of his hand briefly, stalking over to one of the drawers and rifling through it until he takes out a small red pouch. He screws his face up tight, looking at Suguru with a pinched smile.
“Come.”
Obediently, Suguru follows, a mix of curiosity and intrigue building inside of him.
“What is it?” Suguru asks.
Kenjaku smiles a little, pulling open the small pouch and tilting out a heap of gold, a beautiful chain with what looks to be a simple engraved locket.
“When you were young, your mother had it made and once she did, she practically refused to ever wear anything else. Open it,” he says through a small chuckle as he takes Suguru’s hand in one of his and drops the necklace into Suguru’s palm. Something inside Suguru churns with nausea, with distress. It’s his mother’s necklace, that much he is sure of but he isn’t sure his body can handle more big emotions tonight. He isn’t sure he can bring himself to look deeper at what is clearly a poem engraved in the gold of the oval locket or blink back enough tears to get a clear look at whatever painting is inside the beautiful gold.
“Open it, Suguru, it’s yours now, my son.”
Kenjaku’s encouraging words do nothing to deter the anxiety settling in Suguru’s belly but he opens it anyway.
A harsh gasp, a sharp intake of breath and Suguru can hardly take another one. It’s overwhelming, his throat closes and his nostrils flare and pain grows like a parasite in his gut. Sobs wrack his already weak body and Kenjaku closes the distance to pull Suguru into a comforting hug once more.
“Baba,” he murmurs out through what must sound like some of the most distressed sobs possible. His hand tightens around the locket and Suguru’s heart races in his chest, pumping hard and fast to keep up with the omega’s shallow sharp breathing.
“It’s okay, my son,” Kenjaku says, it’s weak, not as strong as Suguru’s father usually sounds but he supposes that’s to be expected to some extent.
Inside the locket is stained glass, tiny delicate fragments that make up two portraits on either side. One a portrait of his parents, one where the artist has captured a moment of love and affection, romance between the two of them. It’s palpable, like Suguru can see the spark of love in each of their eyes. It’s magical and it makes Suguru all the more emotional because his mother is gone and his father will never have that spark ever again. The picture is beautiful and Suguru can understand exactly why his mother wanted to wear it everyday instead of wearing the other jewels in her arsenal.
On the other side is him.
It’s a portrait of a young Suguru with paint on his face and a smile on his lips. His hair is a little messy and his eyes are creased with laughter and he’s too young in this picture to know exactly what he was doing but it makes his heart swell to know his mother loved this version of him so much she carried it with her everyday. “Baba, I can’t leave,” he says once more, weakly. It’s not going to change the fact that he will leave, whether he likes it or not, it is done and dusted.
“We will be at your wedding in spirit, Suguru. We will always be with you.”
The words make Suguru’s chest ache painfully, violently. He can feel the blood pounding against his vessels and the twinge of sadness burns at the back of his eyes. It’s bittersweet again. He wants his family there, he wants to see his father’s eyes widen with pride and affection as he sees his son, all dressed up as a bride. He wants to see his mother’s smile, encouraging him when he inevitably gets cold feet. He wants to dance and sing and celebrate his marriage with his nation, with his people.
He wants for so much but he cannot have it and it hurts so desperately, down to his very soul.
Kenjaku continues to rub Suguru’s back soothingly as the omega hiccups out sobs into his shoulder.
“You’re alright my son, all will be well,” he says except it doesn’t feel that way to Suguru, it doesn’t feel anything close. He thinks this is all some nightmare that started the day his mother died and he has never been able to pull himself out of sleep since.
When Suguru’s body begins to slump, Kenjaku guides him back to his bedroom, deciding that Suguru has exhausted himself enough for one day. He tucks Suguru into his nest, pulling the soft sheets over his skin.
“Rest, my son, I will have someone take care of the rest of your packing.” Kenjaku says, pressing a kiss to Suguru’s forehead that seems to calm his aching heart just a little. It’s his last night in his nest but he feels too exhausted to even really take note of that fact. He simply closes his eyes and listens, listens as his father scurries around his room packing up his belongings while he is under the impression Suguru is asleep.
When Suguru wakes up, he’s filled with dread settling in his stomach, all lopsided and thick, it throws him off kilter, makes him feel off balance and dazed but he really can’t do much about it. The sun beams at him through the window, the Hanadouzu sunshine lighting his face for the final time for quite some time. Well, at least, Suguru imagines it will be quite some time before he returns to feel this sunshine on his face, he’s always been a bit of a worst case scenario thinker but, if all goes well, he may be home sooner than he thinks, the only difference being that he’ll be married and mated.
Whatever, he can deal with the whole being married thing, he can manage the whole husband he didn’t really want situation as long as his leaving means Suguru’s father can concentrate on protecting their kingdom better, Suguru can manage just about anything.
With a deep sigh, he pulls himself out of his nest, smiling a little absent-mindedly at the realisation that, for the first time in years, he was far too bundled up in his sheets, swaddled like a small child. His father liked doing that when Suguru was younger, he liked tucking the edges of Suguru’s blankets in all tight to make it extra warm and cozy for Suguru.
His dad was kind of born to be an omega dad.
Suguru’s mother used to agree with that too, used to say he would probably build a better nest than she could if he weren’t desperately in love with her. She used to joke that she would always win in everything, not because she was better than him at everything but because when she’d won his heart, he’d quickly relented with everything else.
At the time Suguru had thought it was a little gross to always hear about how desperately in love his parents were all the time but now, he can’t think of anything he’d like to hear more. He’d give anything to hear his mother tell him with all the giddiness and excitement of a schoolgirl of how she and her father fell in love even though they were from courts that were not the fondest of each other. He’d give anything to hear his mother giggle as his dad hugged her from behind. He’d give anything to see her smile or feel her embrace, to smell her scent or to hear her gentle soothing words one more time. He’d give anything to have her back.
His bags are packed, ready with what he hopes is everything he might need. They sit in the corner of the room, his walls looking a little more sparse and his choice of attire a little more scarce today than it usually is. He chooses out a nice gown, simple and pretty, there’s a sheer material that goes over some of it and he thinks it makes the gown look just ethereal enough for it to be something that he feels works well for him leaving his home. It might sound ridiculous but part of him wants the castle and his bedroom and the gardens and the kingdom to remember him looking nice, remember him looking put together and beautiful like the princess they all deserve.
Having chosen his gown, he lays the sweet purple slip over his bed and undresses himself, peeling off the fabric from yesterday tainted with tears and breakdowns. Part of him wants to throw that gown away for good and be done with it but he doesn’t want to destroy anything that holds any memories before he leaves. Instead, he simply throws the gown into a basket with the rest of his unwashed belongings and saunters into the bathroom, skin growing goosebumps as the cold air brushes over his naked skin.
Humming a little tune, he pours the warm water that’s been left for him into the tub and chooses out a fragrance oil from his drawer. Lavender or jasmine maybe, something that will relax him, make him feel calm enough to leave the castle walls remembering only his smile and not his tears.
He settles on lavender after a moment, citing that if his gown is purple he should go ahead and embody the spirit of the little purple headed flower. Little drops of lavender scent his bathtub and he smiles a little despite the present circumstances at the smell surrounding him. It’s calming, it’s nice but there’s this nagging feeling, this itch that keeps reminding him that it is his last time calling this bathtub his. It is his last time calling this his home. When he next returns, whenever that may be, will he know where they keep the lavender oils or the soaps for his hair? Will he be welcomed each morning with a pail of warm water before he begins his day? Will he even have this room to come back to?
As much as he tries not to linger on the thoughts, that last one sticks with him. What if the castle is taken, his father, his people, his lands stolen from him. What is what transpires after he leaves is nothing but misery?
If he has nothing to return to, is his life even worth it?
A loveless marriage, his family gone, his lands destroyed. Would it even be worth it?
He sinks into the water, letting the milky water soak into his skin until his fingers are wrinkled with it and his thoughts are no clearer than they were. He washes his hair and his body and makes sure to let the water of his homeland sink into his skin for as long as he possibly can before he finally slips out and wraps a clean towel around his body and his hair.
The smell of lavender fades with the plug pulled out and Suguru watches with an oddly heavy heart as the water escapes.
Everything feels a little too sentimental today. He feels like he’s mourning his whole life here.
He kind of is.
From this point onwards nothing will ever be the same and that is a terrifying thought. It makes his skin shiver and shake and he has to blink back hard to stop himself from spiralling into a sobbing mess once more.
He can’t sob today. Especially not after he’s just gotten rid of some of the puffiness in his eyes.
Suguru rings his hair out, sapping it of the moisture as well as towel drying his skin. He does everything with a little more thought today, when he rubs oil over his skin, he stares at it, makes sure all of the oil is seeped in and that he hasn’t missed even one single spot. He keeps thinking that this is the last time he’ll oil his body, that this is the last time he’ll perch on his bed. It isn’t the last time, there will be more but, it still feels like he won’t get to do this again.
He wonders, for a second, if he’ll even have his own chambers in his husband’s castle. Will he have a bed to himself or will he have to share with a stranger? He supposes it isn’t the worst thing to share a bed with a stranger, he has seen his parents’ bed and it is so large that the two of them could practically send messenger pigeons from one side of the bed to the other.
He’ll make the best of whatever circumstances he has, that much is for sure.
After he’s dressed he sits at his table and stares himself in the mirror before picking up the locket he has yet to put on. He feels uneasy, like his body is rejecting the whole notion of putting on his mother’s prized possession but he wants it so badly. Something inside him thinks he can feel her spirit attached to it.
He sighs and puts it down again picking up his hair brush instead before a knock –a series of knocks– interrupts him.
“Come in,” he calls, pulling his foot up to rest on the chair face and turning his head to the side to watch as Haibara opens the door.
The brunette beta sniffs before a pleased smile makes its way onto his face. “It smells nice in here, does that mean I’m finally smelling your scent?” Suguru giggles at the silliness of it. Haibara has been on this since they were young, he’s always pouting about the fact he can’t smell Suguru’s scent and joking around acting as though getting close enough to Suguru’s scent gland will magically make him able to smell Suguru’s scent.
“I must have left the doors to my bathing chamber open, I used lavender oil,” Suguru says with a smile.
“What a shame,” Haibara says lowly, finishing his sentence with something Suguru can’t quite make out.
“You don’t like lavender?” He asks, returning to his task of staring himself down in the mirror and brushing his hair.
“Something like that.” Haibara doesn’t elaborate and Suguru finds himself not bothered enough to ask because instead he wants to discuss something important, something he’d thought of while in the bath.
“How does one go about making a man find you unattractive?” Suguru asks.
“Hmm?” Haibara quirks an eyebrow at the question, big eyes staring at Suguru in the mirror as though the question is not simple.
“How do I make myself as repulsive as possible?” Suguru says with a snappy tone and a smooth stroke of his brush.
“Well I don’t think you could ever be repulsive, your majesty.” Haibara replies, slumping onto the princess’s bed and scratching his head, confused by the question entirely.
“Yes, but, you’re a man, right? If you were married to an omega, what could they do to become repulsive enough to you that you’d divorce them?”
Suguru isn’t totally sure this is a good idea but it’s all he’s been able to come up with. It’s selfish for sure and he has every intention of not writing to let his father know until the kingdom is safe but, if Suguru can manage to make the Gojo King ask him for an annulment, he will be under no obligation to remain in that kingdom. If the Gojo King and he decide to dissolve this awful sham marriage of theirs, he can return home. He’ll ask for a carriage to return home with but instead of returning to the palace, he will simply hide out somewhere in one of the villages. At least then he will be close to home, at least then, he will be close by if anything happens to his father.
Plus, if he gets a divorce, he’ll practically be boundless, nobody will want him then. He’ll be a free omega.
“Well,” Haibara gives him a confused look and a small smile, “I guess no husband likes a mean, ugly wife?”
“Hmm,” Suguru hums, taking the idea in and passing it over his brain a few times. It’s not a bad shout actually. It’s easy enough to be mean, to be disobedient, especially as an omega, would be particularly unattractive. And to be ugly well…he owns plenty of face paints. If beauty is pale and symmetrical then Suguru will make sure he is the complete opposite. “Thank you, Haibara, you are a truly great friend.” He says earnestly, smiling and making eye contact with the brunette beta in the mirror as he does. Usually, Haibara takes compliments rather well, in fact, he’s sweet enough usually that he also takes criticism fairly well, whether he knows it’s criticism or not is usually a little uncertain but Suguru likes to think his friend knows and simply takes it with grace anyway. This time though, Haibara doesn’t seem to look quite so happy about the compliment, his eyes narrowing slightly and his jaw going taut and tight.
“Yeah,” Haibara says, through gritted teeth. It’s odd but Suguru chooses not to linger on it, especially not when it only takes a few moments for Haibara to recover and smile at him in the mirror, bright and wide and pearly like he usually does. “Are you ready for fourteen straight days of travelling together?” Haibara says playfully.
“Goodness, don’t remind me. It’ll be a wonder if my-” Suguru stops himself feeling the urge to vomit rise up his throat at the notion, “if the king still wants to marry me when he sees what I look like after those fourteen days.”
Haibara scoffs out a laugh. “Your majesty, I cannot imagine there would be a world where you could look revolting enough that someone would not want to marry you.”
Suguru smiles at the compliment.
“Thank you, Haibara, you are too kind.”
“I am simply being honest, your majesty.” Suguru nods and continues to brush his hair, eyes locked in on the locket still on his desk. He can’t bring himself to put it on, not just yet anyway. Instead, he grabs the small pouch and tucks the locket inside before turning to face Haibara with a small, insincere smile.
“I’m ready.”
He isn’t. Not even in the slightest. He wants nothing more than to run into his father’s arms and lock them around him. He wants nothing more than to plant his feet firmly into the ground and until roots form and anchor him into the soil.
He can’t do that though.
He has a duty now whether he likes it or not and so, doing his best to hide his apprehension and anxiety, he says goodbye to his bedroom, to his blankets and sheets and his walls and windows. He opens the heavy door one last time with Haibara following behind him eagerly like a puppy. He glances over the walls of the palace, strolling through leisurely, in no rush to meet his father outside because he knows the moment he sees him he will break down. He knows the moment it becomes truly real for him will be when his father kisses him on the forehead and wishes him luck for his journey.
So, he takes his time, saying a silent goodbye to each painting and every crack in the wall, he bids a farewell to each palace official and wishes them good luck in defeating their enemies. He visits the gardens one last time and he sniffs the white roses before finally going to the front steps of the palace.
His bags have been brought out, already being loaded into the carriage and Suguru’s father waits, stone-faced on the steps of the palace.
That is until he sees Suguru anyway. He was able to keep a strong facade but the second he sees Suguru, his face crumples and he slaps a hand over his mouth to conceal the sound of a sob.
Suguru gulps his feelings down as best he can, he can’t cry and he won’t let his father remember him crying. Instead, he makes his way to his father and this time he cradles Kenjaku’s head in his neck.
“It will all be alright, baba, I will be home before you know it,” he says with more firmness and finality now that he has concocted his own devious plan to return to Hanadozou much sooner than planned.
“I will miss you so much, my Suguru,” he says tearfully, voice breaking in Suguru’s ear.
“I will miss you too, baba.” It takes everything in Suguru to keep his voice even but he manages it, he manages his final farewell with no tears and it feels good. Maybe it’s because he knows it won’t be goodbye for long, maybe it’s because he knows it may not even be goodbye for a week if he is successful in his ploy to get his husband to divorce him.
All he has to do is be ugly and insufferable.
He can manage that much.
Yes, it really will not be that hard to get on the nerves of a spoiled, pampered alpha. Suguru has no doubt he will be home within the week.