Offenses

“Hey, Hyuk, how have you been?" Nobu wrapped his arm around the other man's shoulder.

The man shifted, gasped, and almost spilled his cup. “Y-Your Highness!” He stuttered; it wasn’t every day that a royal blood would put his arm over your shoulder or even be this close to you, a commoner. He thought of the question and rehearsed his reply in his head. He almost answered Nobu.

"I'll take that as you've been good. So, how are things between you and my brother? I knew you've always liked him. You’ve always accompanied him whenever he returns home. It’s a good thing that he finally finished his studies. You have more chances now.” The Crown Prince grinned at him.

He felt confused. Why would the Crown Prince want a commoner like him with no connections whatsoever to get together with his brother? Sure, he may have worked his way up to become one of the Crown Prince’s trusted guards. Still, he thought this was almost too good. He drank his cup. Before he could set it down, the Crown Prince filled it up again.

“Too bad he grew up away from us and preferred to marry Lady Gu, wasn’t it? A shame honestly. I've never seen any chemistry between them but you! you and my brother seem good together. great chemistry too. Anyways, my brother could always take a concubine. A lot of court officials have been doing it.” The Crown Prince paused, “Drink up.”

He did as he was told. He smiled a little, “Your Highness is too friendly—“

“Hush, hush. Be quiet. Drink up.”

The Crown Prince poured another for him. The heir didn’t even give him time to pause or explain himself. That was now two drinks. Now, he felt a little suspicious. What was the heir up to? He wanted to ask questions, but the heir insisted that he drink the cup. That was his third cup. This time, he placed the cup and covered the opening with his palm. He glanced at the Crown Prince.

Nobu only laughed, “You are curious now, I suppose.”

He nodded.

“Since you’ve been a good boy and drank all that I’ve poured you, tell me something.”

There. There was it. He smiled a little, playing along, “What is it, Your Highness?”

“You and my brother, have you two slept together during this war?”

Hyuk gasped and blushed. He examined the Crown Prince’s face. The man seemed to be serious, so he answered with the same degree of seriousness. He answered, “No, your Highness, I would never have the courage to make the first move—“

“Interesting. What kind of wounds did you get from this war, hm?”

“I—“

“Any wound specifically on the back?”

“I only have wounds on my shoulders, arms, and a long one across my chest. Two arrows—“

“Nice.” The Crown Prince poured another cup and handed it to him. He stared at it for a while, wondering how he should decline. He took too long, because the Crown Prince smiled and drank the cup for himself.

“In the aftermath of the war, I’ve had my eyes informed me about...a special patient that my brother had. Has my brother introduced you to this patient? Have you met him?”

He perked up, “I have not heard of such news. His Excellency has only been in the infirmary once or twice a week.”

He saw how the Crown Prince leaned towards him.

“You’ve not seen him in the infirmary?”

Something in the way the Crown Prince’s eyes gleamed frightened him. Mostly for Kazuki’s safety, but he cannot lie. That would be treason. He cleared his throat, “No, your Highness. I have not seen his Excellency in the infirmary.”

The Crown Prince seemed satisfied. And whatever that meant, he sealed Kazuki’s fate. The Crown Prince smiled at him. He watched him pour a cup and raise it to him, “Good thing, you did not lie.”

He froze. The Crown Prince is as anyone who stood in his presence has said: cold, calculating. Those crimson eyes bored into him. He could not look anymore; he lowered his head.

“I already knew. I wanted to confirm.”

“...is his Excellency okay—“

“Do not ask me of anything. How dare you. You are dismissed.”

...

Kazuki stretched as he stepped on the harbors’ wooden floors. He inhaled the familiar salty air and saw a tall, greyish blue castle made of stone sitting on top of a mountain. The castle was located northwest of the harbor. The castle’s mountain terrain was jagged; some parts of its’ land had its’ rocks exposed rock. Some parts had looked like stair-steps, but gradually descended into the fields. On all sides, it was barricaded by tall, brown stone walls but for the south part, where the mountain was at its’ peak, the walls were lower and only seemed like railings as those parts doubled as balconies and viewing decks to the sea.

He raised his eyes to one of those balconies and remembered the times he and his siblings would spend there, looking at the sea. He felt nostalgic then he smiled. He’s back home…then his smile disappeared. A man stood in one of the “balconies”. The man’s image was too small for him to see but there’s no mistaking it. It was his father watching. Panicking, he quickly rushed his men to finish moving their equipment off the ship, into the carts and horses so they can journey as soon as possible to the castle’s Eastern Gates.

…

Along the way, they passed by little villages and rice fields. It was dawn when they arrived home from their journey, so there wasn’t anything of a welcome. Besides, they did not really deserve one when they failed to burn Yeochun to the ground. He was glad that no one saw them arriving. Still, the atmosphere around them was quite depressing. The earth was still shaking off the moonlight and fog thrown upon it. It waited for the sunlight to warm the cold the moon left behind. Its’ colors were dull, but upon the horizon, there were little beads of golden yellow. Though blocked by huts, trees, and mountains, it was slowly seeping through.

He glanced at his older brother, one who walked by the side of a tall, black horse. His brother was the same one that has led them into that battle and now, homewards. The man did not seem to feel despondent at all in losing to the Northerners and though his brother led, he still felt he was responsible. He could have done something better than what he has already done. He glanced back to their men. He could almost hear them murmuring and passing judgments about his leadership. His whole face turned hot—he quickly looked straight onto their road. He met his brother’s eyes. He jolted but he smiled and uneasily stared into the man’s eyes. The color of his eyes frightened him. They reminded him of the blood spilled upon snow.

His brother beckoned, “Come closer to me, Kazuki.”

He jogged until he was side by side with his brother. His brother smiled at him, sneaked his hand into his sleeves and held his hand.

“It’s alright. It’s your first battle. You did well.”

He nodded, “I just wish I could—“

“You’ve done your best, brother.”

He gently smiled. They remained silent, silently marching and when the road split into three, the company turned left. From here, Kazuki could see the Eastern Gate of their base. He felt his body suddenly become heavier. His feet seemed to be melting, becoming one with the ground. It became harder for him to walk. Eventually, he was away from his brother’s side. It took time for him to notice Kazuki was gone by his side. He stopped, the whole company stopped, and that was when Kazuki gulped. He nodded. His brother nodded and started walking. Everyone followed, Kazuki, too, then he slowly walked to his brother’s side again.

“Kazuki, there’ll be two of us punished.” His brother laughed.

He frowned, “O-Oy, Nobu, don’t joke like that! You know, Father is very tough on us.”

Nobu snorted, “So you’re still scared of Father? Ah, how cute—“

“Nobu!” Kazuki glanced back to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them.

The soldiers’ faces remained blank, some were tired, some were wounded and slept in the carts, and some who were well were going to the extremes and yawned (though it was impolite to do so.) He let out a breath of relief.

“That was a week before we set sail. You were often in your room than eat with us. What were you doing?”

Kazuki anticipated this question. He had answers with matching expressions rehearsed already. He sighed, closing his eyes and put on his most disappointed face. He mumbled, “You guess it.”

“You did something worth not mentioning.”

He theorized all of Nobu’s possible responses but that, he did not foresee. Still, he continued his façade. He turned to his brother, to those crimson eyes trying to break into his lies. He chuckled then faked sadness and calmly answered, “It’s about Yeochun, brother.”

Nobu’s expression softened. He extended his arm and patted Kazuki twice on the shoulder. After that, his hand remained.

“Collecting lands won’t make the Northerners stronger if their prince was that weak. Why bother claiming the unclaimed lands when we can just drag their prince to the Shrine and kill him there? Wouldn’t winning be easier for us?”

He smiled at Kazuki. Kazuki tensed. He remembered it was Nobu who dealt with Yoshiro at that battle. He treated the wounds done by his brother. Perhaps, it was guilt; it was duty, it was---he does not know. Perhaps, it just seemed wrong, so wrong for his brother to hurt people. It wasn’t his brother that he knew.

Nobu sensed the tension and gripped his brother’s shoulders, “Unless you’ve actually done something wrong.”

Kazuki withdrew his shoulders, and Nobu backed off. They walked side by side, but the tension between them started to rise to the point their soldiers had noticed it.

“Kazuki, you refused to tell me what is truly bothering you so make sure I don’t ever know it.”

His younger brother gulped, then nodded, “I will…keep it a secret from you, then.”

Nobu snorted, “Good luck.”

Kazuki couldn’t wait to get away from him.

...

Nobu knew.

Before they were home, Nobu visited his brother. He was nowhere to be found, and his tent looked messy with items that laid all around the floor. His brother hasn’t even packed for their return home. He took a deep breath before he reached down and picked up the scattered items, mainly the man’s discarded clothes. He chuckled; he thought how absurd that the Crown Prince was cleaning after the Second-born Prince.

He adored his brother and sister, but his brother chose to spend his childhood differently. His brother seemed like a stranger at times and did not follow or act according to customs. He found it endearing, though, teaching him how to behave accordingly. And in this war, he wanted to protect him from the trauma, from any unnecessary wounds. That, he knew he couldn’t do, but hopelessly wished for. He still did.

Other than discarded clothes, he picked up books and fruits that may have rolled off the table. He wondered if his brother had someone waiting on him when he grew up. Too messy. He noticed some of the clothes he found were bloodstained. His curiosity took over him and made him examine the types of cuts his brother got from his first war. He traced the start and the end of the cloth cut, then realized his brother got a back wound. Then he realized something. This wasn’t his brother’s clothes.

He remembered how he cut the Northern Crown Prince’s back. A little too far-fetched, but as he held the cloth in his hand to examine the cut, it seemed likely. The symbol on the fabric--the mark of the Northern Crown Prince--confirmed his doubts, but he did not want to believe it.

“It cannot be.”