Chapter Text
His eyes fluttered open and was met by harsh sunlight glaring into his window, burning his sight as he turned his body away. Even though the sun shined brightly into his dorm, it was an awfully cold morning, it nipped at his skin, even through his nightshirt. He curled his body into a ball, trusting that the ring of the church bell in campus would wake him up soon, so he let himself drift back to sleep, peacefully.
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
His back shot upright from shock as his roommate shook his body like he was trying to flip him over. “Keola, we need to go now,” he said in Hawaiian. The panic in his friend’s narrow eyes was frightening him to his core. His eyes adjusted and he pulled back his basalt-colored hair from his face. The sun was now nearing the zenith, and his ears were hit with the chaos that flooded their halls, boys yelling, feet hitting the wooden floors in no set pace. Keola wasted no time as he got off his bed and started to change into the first garments he could find.
“What happened, Kawika?” He asked as he ripped off his nightshirt.
“It’s the Queen, and the palace, it’s…” Kawika trailed off while he lowered his head, like he was trying to wake from a bad dream.
The basalt-haired boy was now clothed. He put two firm hands on his friend’s shoulders, trying to hold him together. “My friend, what did you see?”
He felt Kawika shutter slightly, like he couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “The United States Navy…” He looked up at Keola, narrow eyes filling with tears. “Those damn bastards. They’re staging a coup on our Queen.”
Keola’s heart sank to the ocean floor. Thinking about The Queen, all the people that will be affected, the people in their small kingdom. He wanted to cry, but he still held onto the last bit of hope that was their royals and their government leaders. Hoped this will be over soon. After comforting his friend with kind words, he marched out the door to see it for himself. He glanced at the calendar on their wall before walking out.
January 17th, 1893.
It became a day he knew well.
It was chaos on the streets of Honolulu, and it had gotten hot, his body started to leak sweat as he managed to slip through the crowds of people, all headed towards the same place; The Palace. The boy’s narrow eyes widened as he saw the sight. Soldiers lined up in front of the palace entrance, guns pointed to the crowd, keeping anyone from attempting to stop the Americans. But the blood in the basalt-haired boy’s veins started to run hot with rage. How dare they do this to our Queen. His body darted forward on its own, he had no care about what would happen to himself, as long as his people were protected. Worried faces from the crowd stared at him while he marched through, stopping once his broad chest was just a few inches away from the tip of a bayonet.
“You better step back, boy. Or your family will lose a son.” A soldier spoke, in a thick American accent with hate on the man’s tongue. But it got to the boy a bit, thinking of his family. Back on his island, farming taro. What would become of them in this new regime? The soldier forced the gun closer, but the boy stepped back. “You even speak English, you damned boy? Or are you trying to start something?”
He was about to snap back when two hands grabbed the boy’s shoulders and pulled him behind the other man, though he was a little shorter than him, and he recognized the man as Hongjoong, one of the teachers at the school. “No, sir. This young man is my student. I shall take him back now.”
The soldier’s cold, blue eyes scanned Hongjoong, then himself. Then the white man clicked his tongue and in realization, he lowered his firearm. “Oh, I see. Your English is quite proper. You guys must be those civilized Hawaiians they talk about on the continent. You guys go on with your day.” He tipped his hat.
Keola felt disgusted by how he and his people were just described to his face. Those foreigners knew nothing, but it still stung his heart just thinking about it. Though he was aware of what he looked like, he was half Asian, which was not new in the kingdom. But his Hawaiian mother’s side was just as smart and wise as any other society in the world, and he took pride in that. As the shorter man dragged him out of the crowd, he hooked his arm around Keola’s neck and brought his head close.
“Mr. Choi, I have a favor to ask you. But you cannot tell anyone. I know things are moving quickly today, but you must come with me.” He was now speaking in Korean, and the boy was surprised, as he had forgotten that his teacher is also an ambassador from Joseon. He taught his classes in diplomacy, and the basalt-haired boy looked up to his mentor. But nothing he had taught him could have prepared him for what had transpired that day.
“Where are you taking me?” He asked as they were now going down South King Street.
“The royal family requires your assistance. I will explain when we get there.”
Keola nearly tripped on his own feet trying to keep up with the diplomat, he weaved himself fast through the bustling streets like an expert weaver.
They stopped in front of a small two-story building downtown. Nothing special from the others that lined the street. They waited for a carriage to pass them by, then walked inside the small building. Hongjoong brought him to a back room where a tall, graceful man stood, looking out the big window longingly. He turned around to face them, and as the boy's eyes met nice and smooth facial features, he immediately kneeled, like it was muscle memory.
“E kuʻu Lani,” He addressed the royal. He was no stranger to the house of Kalākaua, and the Queen’s nephew who stood in front of him. “Prince Kahōkū, what do you require from me? I will fulfill-”
“Stand up, Mr. Choi, there is no need.” He looked up at the prince, in all his glory, black hair tied up tightly and a blue sash across his chest with many shiny pendants. He stood up, reverent. “We brought you here because your family is trusted by the Crown, and by Hongjoong, and many other members of our government that stand firmly behind our Queen.” He was now speaking in Korean, which surprised the boy. It was a side to the royals that he had not known. Korean was not a well-known language around the world, but neither was Hawaiian.
“What do you need of me, my prince?” He asked politely.
“From now on, you will address me as Seonghwa. We never know who is listening.” The boy nodded his head.
“Boy. What about you? Do you have a middle name?” Hongjoong said with a stern voice, like it was life or death. It may have been.
“My middle name is San.” He said reluctantly, it wasn’t something he told to just anyone.
The prince smiled at him sweetly, “that’s a beautiful name, San. We shall use that one for now. For your safety on this mission.”
“What is this mission?”
“I need you to get my little brother. He’s currently studying abroad in England.”
Notes:
Sorry if the beginning was confusing, but yea I named San “Keolamau” as his first name in this story. Based off of the local Hawaiian boy meme my friends & I made of him.
As you can tell, this story is based on real events, politics, and Hawaiian society in this era. This story is honestly just me trying to challenge myself to dive back into my research on political resistance in this era. I thought Ateez would be perfect for that considering their concepts.
This story in no way is romanticizing the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom. This story is meant to be my interpretation of resistance, and exploring what I think the personal lives of royals would have been at the time. On that note, I am also a native Hawaiian, born and raised in Hawai’i, and going to school for this type of research. This is all based on my knowledge.
I describe San as having “basalt” hair, like freshly hardened lava rock. In Hawaiian culture, it is like thick, jet black, shiny hair. It is seen as a very beautiful trait.If you ever want to know about any Hawaiian words that I use but donʻt explain (like the name of this chapter) you can search it up in the Hawaiian dictionary: https://hilo.hawaii.edu/wehe/. You don't have to, as I wrote the story so that an English speaker can understand the plot without knowing certain Hawaiian words.
Can ya’ll guess which member “Kawika” is supposed to be?
Chapter Text
It was a beautiful day in Bath. The boy felt the warm sunlight hit his skin as he leaned back on the grass, enjoying this moment too much to care about dirt on his school uniform. The sun seemed to stay away from England, but today, it reminded the young prince of his homeland.
A dark voice cut through his moment of peace, “are you to leave me to eat alone, William?”
His eyes fluttered open with the burn of the golden rays until his orbs settled on his friend, ruddy features shone brightly in the sun. The reddish-haired boy was sitting on a wooden table, drinking from his bottle of water. William closed his eyes again, “you acted as if I’ve shunned you. I am right here. Less than a yard away.”
“But they will sound the bell soon.”
“So be it! I will savor every moment of the sun, because I eat a full meal more than I see light here. It’s nothing like my islands.” The prince said in a haughty tone, always proud of the sands of his birth. Even if it was just for a minute, the sunrays on his, now pale, skin took him back to his grandmother’s estate in Kona, he could almost smell the mist from the crashing waves that were just off her lawn.
“But I would bet you want to have some of this before we get back to class.” The sound of liquid being shaken made his eyes jolt open and he immediately saw the silver, metal flask that the redhead dangled in front of him with a smirk.
The prince stood up with haste and grasped the bottle, excitement like fireworks in his chest. He held the flask close to his chest, like a baby. “Yeosang, you are the bestest friend any man could ask for.” Then twisted the cap open and smelt its contents. It was bourbon. His favorite. He lifted it up to his mouth when the flask was swiped from his grasp. He turned to his friend, about to give Yeosang an ear-full for snatching it, but he was interrupted.
“Behind you.” Yeosang whispered as he quickly hid the flask back in his blue coat. The prince quickly turned around and saw their housemaster walking towards them from the dormitories.
He yelled out at them, “Mr. William Kamakamaka, you have a special messenger sent from your kingdom. Come with me at once.” The housemaster turned on his heel and the prince quickly followed. There was a slight skip in his steps as joy threatened to burst out of his lungs.
He was sure that his closest cousin was coming to see him. Kaʻiulani. Finally visiting him during her semester as she promised. She was the closest person to him besides Yeosang, and his older brother.
He smiled as he rounded the stone corner and entered the great hall, but it had faded away when he saw a man that was not his cousin. The exact opposite, actually. A man with sharp features and a Hawaiian Kingdom crest and a royal order medal on his suit, signifying a diplomat. He was talking to his headmasters, but when they locked eyes, the whole hall fell silent and concern laced the diplomatʻs face as he kneeled down. “E kuʻu lani,” he addressed him reverently, his voice soothing to the ear.
The prince was comforted by the use of his native language, but he was still shaken. He has never seen this man before, not in his guard or their courts. He also looked to be young, around his age. Young for a royal diplomat. “Stand,” the prince spoke in English, still too shy to speak his mother tongue in front of his teachers.
The man stood up, back straight and he stood firm as he spoke. To the prince, he was a fine specimen, broader shoulders than most, or maybe it looked that way because of his narrow waist. “My apologies that I came on short notice, but I was sent by your older brother.”
“We will give you gentlemen some privacy,” said the headmaster as they exited through the door behind the prince, the slam of the door echoed through the hall. It was now just them two.
“Get on with it, I must go back to my classes soon. If it's just a message, hand it to me.” He said as he crossed his arms, impatient, and a little saddened that his cousin was not here, or that his brother could not come in person.
“My prince, I am Ke-,” the man looked like he was deep in thought for a second. “My name is Choi San. Prince Kahōkū asked me to accompany you back home.” The man looked careful before he chose his next words. “It is urgent. We will leave in two days.”
Confused, the prince spoke accusingly. “How dare you just whisk me away from my studies. I am just weeks away from finishing my last semester. I donʻt even know who you are, and you are expecting me to travel with you alone?”
“My prince…” he stepped closer, slowly, an envelope revealed itself in San’s hand, with his brotherʻs initials on itʻs red seal.
The prince took the letter and opened it quickly. He started to read it out loud, it was written in Hawaiian. “To my dearest Wooyoungie,” he smiled at the nickname that was only used between them. “I hope you are well in England. I, not so much.” The prince paused, scared to read on. He looked up at the diplomat, dark eyes reassuring. He kept on reading, but in his head this time.
It is now a time of great tyranny and fear for our family and our people. A group, who call themselves the Committee of Safety, had illegally overthrown our aunt, The Queen, on the 17th day of January, 1893. They had the help of the United States Military to accomplish this unforgivable act, and now claim that we are to be an American territory. We are doing everything in our power to gain our independence back. During this time, it would be of most comfort to me if you are back home, back in my house, so that I know you are safe. Iʻm sorry that my current duties bind me here, and our royal guards and courts are unable to move freely right now. But the man I have sent for you is a strong, trusted student at ʻIolani School, and loyal to the crown. Please do not give him trouble, as you always do. Come home to me.
Me ke aloha,
Seonghwa.
With that nickname giving a slight joy to his heart, it was nothing compared to the storm that had brewed in the princeʻs head. Tears started to stream down his face like waterfalls during a rainy season. Uncontrollable. He looked back up at the diplomat, and he looked sorrowful, brows knitted. “Is this true?” He asked, holding back a sob, hoping that it was all a sick joke.
San hung his head low. “The Kingdom has fallen. Now ruled by traitors. I saw it with my own eyes… On that day.”
“Auē!” A loud sob left his chest, echoing through the grand hall as he clutched the letter close to his chest. The prince was hysterical now, not able to gather all his thoughts. He could see it all flashing in his head; his family being threatened with guns, scared families in the streets of Honolulu, a collective grief that settled over the islands like a veil of dark clouds before a thunderstorm. Unpredictable danger. His hands now ripped through his own black hair, breaking it free from the gel that held it down. More sobs, more tears, and he started to choke on his breath, his heart beating too fast with the weight of his peopleʻs sorrows clinging to his shoulders. With kind eyes, San tried to offer him his gloved hand for stability, but the prince quickly slapped his hand away.
He turned on his heel and ran out the door, pushing it open with all his strength. He needed to breathe, he refused to be trapped. Hearing the diplomat calling for him as he ran after him, it only made the prince run faster down the stairs. He saw Yeosang in the distance by the table they were sitting at, and he tried to run to him. But in his haste and delirium, and the fact that he could not see clearly though his own tears, he tripped in a dip in the grass and his knees met the lawn. It did not hurt, but his chest still ached with pain as another sob left him, grieving his kingdom like one would grieve the dead.
As he sobbed, feeling weak as peers gazed upon him in pity, the diplomat appeared in front of him. His eyes did not show pity, but rather a sadness they both shared. The prince gave in, leaning forward and putting his forehead on the diplomatʻs shoulder, letting the tears and cries soak into his coat. A pair of strong arms circled him and held him tight. They stayed like that until the prince could stand again.
Steadfast against prying eyes and a raging sun.
Notes:
Sorry if it was once again confusing, William IS Wooyoung lmao. It was common for Hawaiian royalty to have an English first name in order to be taken more seriously in other countries. Different names were associated with different identities of a person, and you will see more of that as the story progresses.
I’ve decided that Woo goes to King Edwardʻs School in Bath, England. No particular reason, it's not important to the story.
San goes to ʻIolani school in Honolulu.
Yeosangʻs hair isn't actually red, it is more like him in his brown hair era. I describe it as “red” because in Hawaiian culture, brown hair was seen as more of a red, or like you were a descendant of fire gods. But Yeosang isn’t from Hawai’i in this story.
See ya next Sunday ig where the chapters start to get longer yaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy (this chapter was late because I totally forgot about the time difference lmao I just moved countries lmao)
Chapter Text
San offered to accompany the young prince to his dorm, and offered to help him pack. But the prince refused without a second thought, preferring the company of his redhead friend, and from what San could tell before the door closed on him, a flask of bourbon. He headed back to the end of the great hall, where there was a spare room reserved for guests. His chest still empty as the sobs of his prince echoed through his head, his flowing tears over smooth cheeks, and that mark burned into his mind. He would do anything to keep his prince from feeling that way again, he found himself thinking. Even if I had to hold the weight of the kingdom on my own back.
But he knew better. He knew he could not stop what was happening in their islands. But what he could do is make sure that the prince made it home safely, just as he vowed to Seonghwa.
He sat at his desk, the sun now lowering itself to the west, a glaring gold lighting up the room through his window. He grabbed a pen and started writing an update to Seonghwa, which would reach the older prince a week or two before they arrived.
In the middle of his report, a heavy knock came from his door, making his head shoot up. As he opened the door, the familiar face of a royal appeared, looking up at him with puffy, glassy eyes. The diplomat had to keep himself from staring too long at the beauty mark under the boy’s left eye. He wanted nothing more than to rub his finger over it, but he had no right.
“My prince-“
“I’m leaving now, Ambassador Choi. Whether you come with me or not.” The prince said, sternly, dark eyes lit with a fire of determination.
“But the ship won’t be leaving for a few days. You should get some rest.”
The prince raised his voice. “I don’t need rest. I need to be with my family, and people.”
San understood, fingers now running through his basalt hair. “And how exactly will you do that? With what ship?”
“My parents have one leaving the harbor at midnight,” a deep voice said. San watched as that boy, Yeosang, appeared from down the hall, rubbing his own shoulder with a sweet shyness. “If we take a carriage within the hour, we can make it. My parents will be on a faster route, stopping in South America, then Hawai’i, before they go to Alaska. You would make it there weeks before you would on the normal route.”
The long-haired prince flashed San a smug smile, showing his white canines. The diplomat almost melted from the heat in his chest, but he had to cast that aside for now. He sighed, knowing that if he said no, the prince would run off anyway, then he would be out of his sight, his protection. That would be worse than trying to catch a boat. At least he would still be with him. After pondering his options, he finally gave in. “Okay, I will ask the housemaster about a carriage.”
The prince jumped into him, hugging him with a delightful laugh, like listening to a flowing river. He hugged him back lightly. “Thank you, Mr. Choi. I shall make sure my brother pays you well.”
I’m not doing this for money.
As he walked back down the hall, San knew that the prince would drag him around like a leaf floating in the ocean.
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
After the long carriage ride through the countryside of England, they made it to the port. Yeosang grabbed the prince’s hand and bolted, legs like lightning as they ran onto the ship, lit up with bright gold lanterns against the dark cover of night. San stood at the carriage, impressed with their speed, then they returned, smiles on their faces.
The prince nodded as he heaved for air. “His parents will let us aboard the ship.” Then a proud smile graced San’s lips as the two hugged tightly.
“My family will support yours, always.” Yeosang said, holding back tears. San knew it was true. He remembered Yeosang's last name, Evelyn. The son of the famous shipbuilder that had befriended King Kalākaua on the Kingʻs worldwide tour. Even giving the King a ship as a gift for his birthday.
“You know you can come and stay with me, right?” He let go of the redhead and smiled at him, seemingly trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe you’ll get to see that choir boy again from last summer-“
Yeosang pushed an open palm against the younger’s shoulder. “Maybe I shall come when school is over, later in the year. For you. Not for some choir boy.” He said with a shy smile, cheeks flushed red.
After a few more minutes of goodbyes, and San having to reiterate that they had to leave. Thrice. They made it onto the S. S. Helene. Yeosang’s parents had given up their cabin room for them to use because it was “the least they could do for a prince.” But when they opened the door, the basalt-haired man noticed one thing.
There was only one bed in the cabin. It was beautifully decorated with wooden pillars and a sheer, red satin duvet spread across the great bed. But there was still only one. San placed the prince’s luggage down in the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my prince,” he said with a slight bow of his head as he walked out the door.
“You’re leaving already?” The younger said, his voice a bit shaken.
San stopped at the doorway and looked back at him. “Do you need something else?”
“No, I just-“ The prince scanned the room and he crossed his arms, like he was cold. His gaze landed back towards San, a fake smile spreading on his face. “I’m fine, Mr. Choi.” He sighed as he grabbed his door. “Good night.” Then the door slammed shut.
San was left there, unsure. The prince was not okay, but would it be wise to double check?
Probably not. The younger has had a long day, and San knew that. It ached him to back away from that door.
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
The next night, San held tightly onto the railing as the ship swayed nearly on its side. They were facing waves that they could barely see in the night. They could only see the dark water when it was too late, dim lights of the ship casting on the crashing waters. It was a new moon, so only stars were visible, but they were no help against the rising tide.
“How much longer do you think this will last, Mr. Evelyn?” San asked, squinting out into the dark mountains that were rolling towards them.
“It’s not so bad, I’ve seen much worse in my day,” the older man said as San looked at him. The man seemed unfazed, holding a dim lantern by his head and a pipe to his mouth. “This should be over by dawn.”
The basalt-haired man was hit with a spray of sea mist. It was irritable. The swaying, the moisture in the air, and the darkness. San cursed out the sea; don’t you know there’s a prince on this ship? Hoping that some force of nature would give the prince a break.
But the sea kept stirring, and he realized there would be no break for them, only turbulence and unforgiving waters. No break for the young prince who was born to help lead their nation. A nation that was now in danger. He looked back at the main cabin of the steamship as worry built in his chest.
The prince hadn’t come out since breakfast.
Again, there was a splash of salt in the air, and there was a break between the sets, so he started to walk to the wooden door in this calm window of time. He knocked slowly.
“My prince, are you okay?” The ship leaned again, but he held onto the doorway for stability. He put his ear against the door once the sea was silent again. Footsteps crossing the room. He’s awake.
He knocked again with a little more urgency. “Can I come in? Just to see that you’re okay.” He had switched to Hawaiian, just to see if the prince would be more inclined to answer.
The sea stirred with anger, then calmed once more.
After a few wet sniffs muffled behind the door, he heard the younger. “Please, come in.”
As he opened the door, it revealed the prince sitting at the edge of the bed, holding onto a wooden pillar. The older was once again met with those watery, blood shot eyes. It stung his chest. Then his eyes drifted to the empty bottle of red wine on the floor, next to a broken wine glass.
“It was the tide,” the prince said as San locked eyes with him again, dark orbs shiny with sorrow.
“And where’s the spilled drink?” San asked with a smirk, playing along. He entered the room and started to pick up broken shards.
“It dried up. Were you born in darkness?”
“If I was born in darkness,” San said as he stood up and put the glass in a small trash can in the corner of the room. “Then you must’ve been born to an octopus, the way you slip away from the truth.” He looked at the prince again, his mouth agape at the insult.
Then San noticed the bed; untouched, pillows in the same patterns, and there was not one wrinkle on the bed besides around the prince’s small frame. “You never slept.” He said plainly.
“How could I?” He snapped back, crossing his arms. “My kingdom is in ruin, and I can't do a damned thing-“ Another big wave. The boat tilted as the prince hugged the pole tightly, shutting his eyes as he mumbled an old chant under his breath.
The inside of the cabin was much worse, San had realized. It was as if every plank of wood creaked, making it sound like the whole ship would snap in half as the sounds echoed throughout the haul.
The boat stabilized as San spoke. “When you get back, I’m sure you and your family will figure it out. And I do not doubt your studies from England. You will put it to good use. You’re as bright as the sun.” The prince flushed a bit at the compliment, tucking away a piece of hair behind his ear. San smiled and turned back to the door. “My prince, I should probably leave-“
“No,” he heard, then his hand gently lifted from the door handle. He turned to the prince, and his body looked tense, like he was about to jump at him. “I mean… you don’t need to keep calling me that. It’s too formal. We’re the same age.” He patted the space on the other corner of the bed. “Come sit. We both know we aren’t going to sleep anytime soon.” He said with a smile, warm and genuine.
The boat rocked again, side to side.
San sat, leaning on the pillar. He realized now that the prince loosened his grip on the opposite pillar. Maybe a distraction is what he needs. “Then what should I call you?”
“Well, you know my older brother, right?” The prince leaned in, curious. “What do you call him?”
“‘Your highness,’ which is appropriate.” The brothers both had the same birth rank, but the oldest brother had more royal duties, especially as a member of the Queen’s cabinet. “But as of the last time I saw him- when he sent me to you- he told me to call him Seonghwa. He said it was just in case ears for the new government were listening. I don’t blame his caution. They’ve got it out for all members of the royal family, and everyone who is associated with them.”
The prince pondered for a moment, then a laugh bursted from his chest, sending his body back on the satin bed. It surprised San how often the younger was able to smile, even in his current misfortune. It amazed him. Now, he was laying up on the pile of pillows. “That’s my brother, always thinking ahead. And is that why you introduced yourself as ‘San’?” He asked with the raise of a brow at the older man.
“Yea. How’d you know that’s not my first name?”
“It was just a hunch. But you also looked tense then. Like you were trying to hide something. You’re a bad liar, San.” The diplomat felt comforted with the use of his nickname. It felt like home. It was a name only his father really used.
San chuckled as he grabbed the empty wine bottle from the ground. “Did you not just try to lie to me and tell me that this had spilled? I think it spilt into your mouth if anything, my prince.”
“I did not lie. The rest of it spilled. The few sips that were left…” He clawed at the smallest pillow on the bed, then threw it at the older man, missing his head by an inch. “Wooyoung.”
“What?”
“You can call me Wooyoung. It’s my middle name.”
A smile spread across the diplomat’s face as he mouthed the name to himself, like it was too sacred to say out loud. He was trying to remember each syllable. He watched the prince, Wooyoung, get more comfortable on the red pillows, hands behind his head.
He admired the sight of him, he seemed at peace for once. Body no longer tense from the weight of the bad news that he had to deliver.
Then, as if on cue, the sea raged on in its unforgiving cycle. Wood planks roared once more.
Wooyoung shuttered, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it tightly to his chest for comfort.
San could only sit and wish that he could take all of the younger’s pain and make it his own. “Is there anything I can do to help, Wooyoung?”
“Just keep talking.” He said plainly. Even in the dim light of the lantern on the side table, San could not help but to watch how the shadows danced around Wooyoung’s beauty mark.
“Okay,..” he started, thinking hard on the right thing to say. “Whats your favorite place to visit in Honolulu?”
A smile tugged at the younger’s lips as he closed his eyes. “Paoakalani,” he simply said. “My aunt’s estate in Waikīkī.”
“Why?”
“Because of its great garden. It has every lei-making flower you can think of, and then some.” He opened a curious eye at San. “What’s your favorite kind of lei?”
The older man was a little surprised that the prince would care to ask him. “Maile.”
The younger chuckled lightly. “Maile isn’t a flower, foolish man.”
“I know, but nothing beats the scent. You must admit.” San was now remembering his home, and swimming in the river nearby it. The light green vines that crawled over the edge of the bank, thick and strong enough to climb when he was done swimming.
His visions were cut short. “You remind me of a maile vine, San.”
“How so?” He looked back down at the prince, but he was curled on his side now, still holding the pillow close. A barely audible snore left his mouth, which filled San’s stomach with content. The prince was finally at peace, at least for now. Long enough to get rest. He watched him for a bit more, and how his black hair became more undone each time he stirred in his sleep. How his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched up every now and again, but then went back to being relaxed.
He checked his gold pocket watch and decided it had been long enough, maybe a little too long. He left the cabin, making sure the door closing was not audible.
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
The rest of the trip gave them no trouble. The sea was smooth, and calming to gaze upon as each ripple of deep blue passed them, the diplomat was comforted by the fact that they were getting closer to home. Wooyoung seemed to have warmed up to him as well, and they had become quite close friends thanks to the younger’s curiosity, always asking San about his life, or what he was thinking, or about his studies.
One would often find them on the middle deck, drinking tea, or playing a game of chess. Even when the S. S. Helene had made her stop in Brazil. They had anchored the boat in clear waters.
As hues of purples painted the skies at sunset, the music from the shore got louder. “You can go explore if you want.” San said as he moved his queen a dangerously large distance across the board.
“No. You're trying to distract me.” Wooyoung said, pondering his next move as he brushed black hair from his face. San liked how he wore it nowadays, down and free. He moved his king to a safer spot. “And we need to break our tie.”
The Helene was only there for two days before it kept on its course again.
It was now October as San and Wooyoung stared out into the horizon at dawn, both restless from excitement as they knew they were close.
Before they knew it, they were in Honolulu harbor. Young, golden sunrays draped over the city and mountain range like a royal mist. But the buzzing joy in San’s chest from being home slowly dissipated as they crossed paths with an American naval ship that had set anchor in the harbor, the American flag being raised proudly with the golden hues of the sun. He was reminded of the job he had to do. He felt a shoulder brushing against his own, and even through his coat he felt body heat. He looked to his side to see Wooyoung, bright features dulled as his brown orbs gazed up at red, white, and blue.
The diplomat put a reassuring arm around the prince’s shoulders, just to remind him that he was there with him, a reminder of who San was loyal to.
One of the Evelyn familyʻs helpers approached them. “Mr. Evelyn has offered his carriage for you to take upon arrival.”
San rubbed the younger’s shoulder. “Tell them we must go straight to Keōua Hale.”
Notes:
When I say Woo has “long hair” its like him in IOMT era.
Hawaiian royalty and leaders of the resistance at the time did in fact use like “code names.” It couldve been as simple as a middle name, or an entirely different name.
You may also notice some metaphors that I use that arenʻt common. Like “being born in the dark” or “an octopus who slips away from the truth.” I will use metaphors often used in Hawaiian language, so if it seems new, that's probably why.
Can yall guess who the “choir boy” is???
seb_the_tired_entity on Chapter 2 Tue 02 Sep 2025 04:29AM UTC
Last Edited Tue 02 Sep 2025 04:29AM UTC
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pathofthestars on Chapter 2 Tue 02 Sep 2025 09:42AM UTC
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seb_the_tired_entity on Chapter 2 Wed 03 Sep 2025 12:10AM UTC
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seb_the_tired_entity on Chapter 3 Mon 08 Sep 2025 04:29AM UTC
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