A hush rippled through the courtyard as a low gong resonated from deep inside the palace. The Queen's approach was near. Servants shifted nervously, guards straightened, and petals trembled in their baskets.
Sozai tilted his head toward the gates, grin curling wider. "Hear that? Curtain's about to rise. And yet…" He wagged a finger, almost conspiratorial. "…no one's standing in the other major guard spot. Suspicious, don't you think?"
Saimei's gaze hardened, jaw clenching. "It isn't our place to question."
"Maybe not yours," Sozai hummed, emerald eyes flashing, "but I'm dying of curiosity. If the Queen sees that empty space, the court will notice… and someone has to fill it."
Saimei's grip on the ceremonial flag tightened. The weight of duty pressed down on him—every thought of protocol and discipline coiling in his chest—but beside him, Sozai only looked lighter, freer, as if the chaos itself gave him wings.
"Guess it's up to me then," Sozai whispered, laughter threading his words like sparks against kindling. "If the other major guard's spot is empty… why not let me play one for the day?"
Saimei's brows drew together. "You mean… just for today?"
Sozai leaned closer, mischief sharpening his features. "Exactly. Just for the parade. No permanent titles, no one noticing immediately… just a small dance in the spotlight. I've got 300 loyal eyes around. You think they'd let the Queen notice one missing pillar? Hah!"
Saimei's jaw tightened. Even knowing Sozai's intention was temporary, the audacity pressed against every thread of his sense of duty. Still, he didn't interrupt, didn't scold. He only watched as Sozai adjusted his half-wet hair, smirk curling as if daring the air itself to challenge him.
The damp strands caught the sunlight, glinting like liquid emeralds. Every subtle motion—how he shifted his weight, how he casually straightened his robe—was carefully careless, like a performer teasing the line between rebellion and loyalty.
Sozai's eyes flicked toward Saimei, mischievous but sharp. "You're staring, Guffy Bear. What's the matter? Worried I'll make a fool of myself?"
Saimei said nothing. His silence pressed heavier than any words could. Inside, a small part of him argued against Sozai's recklessness; another part—quieter, unacknowledged—admired it. The kind of daring he could never muster.
A last gong resonated, low and final. Sozai straightened fully, gripping his ceremonial flag like it was a scepter of mischief. He stepped forward, filling the empty line meant for a major guard. Every servant, every guard, every whispering shadow of expectation seemed to pivot in his direction.
And in that moment, Saimei felt the faintest, unspoken weight behind Sozai's grin. It was no empty arrogance. There was calculation. There was intent.
What is this man really aiming for?
Not the throne. Not Kuradome's favor in permanence. Just the space no one dared fill today, the opportunity to step where others hesitated. And yet… even in such a simple act, the audacity cut through the palace air sharper than any blade.
Sozai's eyes glimmered as he glanced at the empty line. "Well," he murmured, almost to himself, "someone has to make sure the Queen sees a full formation. Why not me?"
The courtyard seemed to hold its breath, petals frozen mid-fall, guards stiffened, sunlight glinting off polished metal—and for a fleeting heartbeat, all of history, duty, and personal ambition merged into one impossible, mischievous silhouette: Sozai, daring the day to notice.
Saimei exhaled slowly, tension leaking, awareness sharpening. He didn't move, didn't speak—but in his chest, a thought lingered, colder and sharper than the wind: This man… is trouble.
And yet, beneath it all, a tiny pulse of something else—respect, perhaps, or wary admiration—beat quietly in time with the final echo of the gong.
smirk. "If you tell people your true soul-goal, and then fail… you just become a joke."
Saimei stared, speechless for a moment. His mind clicked quietly with the logic. He had to admit—it made uncomfortable sense. Before he could speak, Sozai winked and casually walked away, standing in front of the white line with his flag.
"I'll keep this line. Trust me."