The days leading up to the start of the semester felt like a slow, suffocating march. Despite the comforting words from his mother and the quiet encouragement from his father, Yuki still found himself trapped in the palace, unable to shake the heavy sense of apprehension that clung to him.
His world had always been one of structure and predictability—every room in the palace, every hall, every gesture, even the smallest conversation, had been shaped by tradition and expectation. But the thought of stepping into a chaotic, unpredictable world like university filled him with anxiety. The thought of facing new faces, new challenges, and a life outside the safe walls of the royal residence made him feel more like a prisoner than a prince.
He needed space. He needed to be alone, away from the watchful eyes of servants, tutors, and family.
And so, three days before the beginning of the semester, Yuki made a decision.
The royal stables were quiet this morning, the air thick with the scent of fresh hay and polished leather. A single ray of sunlight filtered through the large wooden doors, catching the dust motes in the air, and casting the room in a warm glow. Yuki stood in front of the stables, feeling the familiar sense of calm that only being around horses could bring.
His mother had always encouraged him to take part in the royal activities—learning diplomacy, history, art, martial arts—but it was his father who had introduced him to horseback riding. King Renjiro had been an avid rider in his youth, and despite his demanding role as the ruler, he always found time for his horses. Yuki, as a child, had often watched from the sidelines as his father rode through the palace grounds, his posture perfect, his expression serene.
For Yuki, horseback riding had always been a rare opportunity to escape—to lose himself in the rhythm of the horse's galloping hooves, to let his mind wander freely without the weight of expectations.
Today, more than ever, he craved that freedom.
He approached the stall of the royal mare, Kage, a sleek black horse with intelligent eyes and a gentle temperament. Her coat gleamed like polished obsidian, and her muscles rippled beneath her skin as she shifted, sensing his approach. Yuki smiled and gently placed a hand on her neck.
"Hey, Kage," he murmured softly, brushing his fingers through her mane. "Let's get away from all of this, just for a while."
Kage snorted in response, as if she agreed, and Yuki's smile widened. It was a small but significant gesture of reassurance. He saddled her quickly, slipping the reins over her head with practiced ease. The sound of her hooves tapping against the floor echoed in the barn as he led her out into the open air. The moment he set foot outside, the cool breeze lifted his hair, and he could already feel the sense of relief starting to settle in.
He swung himself up onto Kage's back, the familiar sensation of the saddle beneath him grounding him in a way nothing else could. He nudged her with his heels, and she started walking briskly, the rhythmic clip-clop of her hooves almost soothing as they left the palace grounds.
The path leading away from the palace was lined with towering trees and wildflowers, but Yuki didn't stop there. He urged Kage to pick up her pace, and they moved into the open fields, where the grass swayed like waves on a sea of green.
The palace was far behind him now. The only sounds were the wind and the soft rustling of the grass beneath Kage's hooves. Yuki took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his worries begin to lift with every step. Here, away from the constant gaze of his family, he could breathe. Here, he could be himself.
He allowed the horse to break into a gallop, feeling the wind rush past him. The exhilaration of the ride was a sharp contrast to the tension he'd been carrying for the past week. As he galloped across the open field, he allowed himself to let go, just for a moment, of the responsibility that awaited him.
It was a fleeting freedom, but it was enough.
After what felt like hours of riding, Yuki slowed Kage to a gentle walk and let her graze in the tall grass of a secluded meadow. He dismounted, allowing his legs to stretch and his mind to settle. The quiet of the field was almost like a balm to his soul. He sat down on a large rock, leaning against the cool stone, and looked out across the vast expanse of grasslands that stretched as far as his eyes could see.
For a while, he just sat there, watching the world unfold in front of him. The distant mountains, the way the sun played across the sky, the soft murmur of the wind—it was a peace he couldn't find anywhere else. This was the world he knew, the world that felt right to him.
But his moment of solitude didn't last long.
He heard the sound of hooves approaching in the distance, and before he could even fully react, a familiar figure appeared from behind a grove of trees, riding towards him with smooth confidence. Asano.
Yuki stood up quickly, brushing the dirt from his trousers, a mix of surprise and awkwardness flooding him. Asano was on a horse as well—one that looked far grander than Yuki had expected. The horse was a majestic stallion with a white coat that seemed to shimmer in the light, its mane flowing in the wind. Asano himself was dressed in simple riding clothes, but there was an ease in the way he carried himself, as if he belonged here, in this open space, just as much as Yuki did.
Asano guided the horse towards him and pulled up alongside Yuki, dismounting fluidly. He gave Yuki a knowing smile.
"I didn't expect to find you out here," Asano said, his tone casual but warm.
Yuki felt his throat tighten for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He hadn't expected anyone else to be out here, least of all Asano.
"I... needed some air," Yuki said, his voice a little rougher than he intended. "It's been too much, lately."
Asano nodded, as though he understood without needing an explanation. He looked around the meadow, taking in the serene landscape. "It's peaceful out here. I come here often, whenever I need to clear my head."
Yuki nodded slowly, taking in the view as well. The sight of the wide open spaces, with no walls, no boundaries, was a stark contrast to the tightly controlled world of the palace. It made him feel small in a way, yet free. It was the kind of freedom he had never truly experienced before.
Asano took a few steps towards Yuki, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You look like you could use a bit more of that freedom. It's not easy, is it?"
Yuki tilted his head, his gaze flicking to Asano. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... being in the palace all the time. Living up to expectations. It must be exhausting."
Yuki hesitated. There was something in Asano's eyes—something that suggested he understood more than he was letting on. For a moment, Yuki felt a pang of vulnerability.
"It is," Yuki admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not sure I can live up to what's expected of me. It feels... impossible, sometimes."
Asano took a step closer, his expression softening. "You don't have to do it alone, you know. We're in this together. We're both going to the same school, after all."
Yuki glanced up at him, surprise flickering across his face. "You mean... you'll help me?"
Asano gave a half-smile, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that made Yuki feel a little more at ease. "Of course. We'll figure it out together. I've been at the academy for a year, and I can show you the ropes."
There was sincerity in Asano's voice, and for the first time in days, Yuki felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe—just maybe—he wouldn't have to face it all alone.
"Thanks," Yuki said, his voice quiet but sincere.
Asano nodded. "No problem. Besides, I'm not just doing it for you, Yuki. You've got a lot to offer. And I'm looking forward to seeing how you do once you get out of that palace."
Yuki chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the sun overhead. "I'll try not to disappoint you, then."
"You won't," Asano replied confidently. "You'll do great."
For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the soft murmur of the wind and the distant rustle of the grass the only sounds between them. Yuki felt a strange sense of camaraderie with Asano in that moment—a connection that, while still new, was beginning to feel more real with every word exchanged.
Maybe this wasn't going to be as difficult as he thought. With Asano by his side, maybe he could make it after all.