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Corette knew it was futile to argue with him. If she wanted out of this, it would be up to her to persuade Silvio to release her... or have a certain other prince express interest in her.

Leaving the office in a huff, she slammed the door to make sure that everyone was aware that she was unhappy. Truly, it couldn't have been Gilbert? Couldn't Obsidian have wanted a princess? She wasn't in love with him, gods no.

But Gilbert always brought butterflies to her stomach when he arrived. He kissed her with the gentleness of a lover deeply enamored. They spent hours in each other's beds, in secret of course. He commanded her body in a way no one else could.

Corette was always on her toes around him. He could reduce her to a flustered mess in seconds. Teasing her without restraint with words that set her whole body alight.

"Someone's upset."

Her daydream about the handsome Obsidian prince rudely interrupted by the horrible timing of the resident flirt.

Nokto had decided to linger outside the office until Chevalier finished delivering the news. He wanted no part of it.

However, teasing her after the fact, was fair game.

"Ah, come now, little sister. It was inevitable that you'd have to marry sometime." Even before their father fell ill and passed, there had been talk of marriage. Especially with Perrine's disappearance. He did feel bad for her, having to marry him.

There were so many things that she wanted to shout at them, all of them. Of course, they wouldn't understand, they were men. Princes. Princes had choices.

Her father had promised that she wouldn't be married off, ever.

How foolish she was to believe him. He had to go and die before she found her true love.

"We don't have the luxury of marrying for love, you know-"

He was goading her. She knew it. Her emotions were so high that she couldn't stop herself from cutting him off. "No, I don't have that luxury. You and everyone else can do whatever you want without consequence."

"I suppose that's true," Nokto replied, shrugging his shoulders. She could be quite prickly most days, really still a child at heart. Honestly, she'd closed herself off from them. The only way to get her to talk was to irritate her.

None of the brothers wanted to send her to another country, but unlike Corette, they had accepted it would happen one day.

"I'm simply a commodity to be thrown at the first country who wants to buy me." And even better, they didn't want her, it was Perrine that was the graceful beauty that was adored by all. She had been the princess that Benitoite wanted.

Ah, there it was. "Not even Chevalier desires to send you away, nor do any of us see you as something to sell. Do you really think so little of your big brothers?" Nokto vividly remembered times where Corette would come beg to sleep with him when it stormed and days when she wouldn't leave his side.

Now, she refused to eat meals with any of them, regardless of the lectures that Sariel gave her.

Corette let out a breath, shaking her head. He really doesn't get it at all. "If you really cared for me, you'd be trying to fix this instead of hiding in the hallway while making Chevalier deliver the news."

She'd wager that none of them had even tried to stop it. As if a piece of paper were so ironclad that nothing could undo it. Has anyone spoken to Silvio? God, she hoped that he hadn't agreed to this.

Knowing that bastard, he probably had. Simply to spite her.

Gods, why couldn't it have been Gilbert? Or even Keith for that matter. She didn't know the Jade prince as well as the other two, but their few conversations had been pleasant. At the very least, he didn't get under her skin like Silvio did.

Corette left Nokto standing by the faction door, tired of pointless conversation. It would have to be sorted out herself. She hoped that she wouldn't have to resort to begging, but perhaps she would if it would save her.

The princess locked herself away in room for the remainder of the evening, turning away even the maids who brought her dinner. How could she eat when her stomach lurched at the thought of having to kiss Silvio Ricci.

Her saving grace was a letter slipped under her door. No sender. Not even her name penned on the envelope. On the parchment inside only one word was written. Tonight. This was exactly what she needed to get her mind off her impending marriage.

Sneaking out of the castle was child's play. It had been a habit of hers since she was young. Corette enjoyed being royalty, because who wouldn't, but being outside the castle was incredibly freeing. She'd met quite a few like-minded people.

Now, there were small gatherings. A party, one might call it. There was a small lake far enough away from the castle that the guards didn't patrol that far. It was the perfect spot for a bonfire, drinks, and good company without all the need for labels.

There, she wasn't Princess Corette Lumiex of the Rhodolite Royal Family.

She was simply a raven-haired girl who enjoyed talking about the latest novels and gossip while drinking cheap alcohol.

A secret society, some might call it.

"And did you hear about the festival? There's going to be a traveling circus!"

Corette smiled easily, now on her third cup of rum. It had a hint of apple to it. She had no idea who'd made it, but it tasted delicious and relaxed her mind. "I hear that there will be a magnificent performance in the main square to start off the festivities." She was well aware of the preparations for the festival. The castle staff were abuzz with the same information.

"It's going to be spectacular! My whole family is going together. We never miss the first day of any festival. It's a tradition."

Her drink tasted a little sourer. Never in her whole life had her family done anything together. Sure, she attended the festivals, but usually alone, spare the guard that was sent with her.

"What about you, Cor? What are you most excited for?"

Hmm. "I suppose the chance to see a real tiger or lion. I've always liked big cats." Having never owned a pet, the desire to have something exotic had interested her. The others around her were equally excited.

"Aren't they two of the princes?"

Words Corette never wanted to hear in her sanctuary.

Pale jade irises swept across the small crowd to find the source of all the whispers. And she discovered that indeed, she'd been followed. Tracked. Downing the last of her cup, Corette decided to confront them at the forest's edge rather than turn this into a spectacle.

"What are you doing here?"

Yves took clear offense to the question. "What are you doing here, Corette? Without a guard, without anyone knowing where you are." He'd discovered her chambers empty when he'd brought her a treat. Her favorite dessert was made by him.

He'd drug the protesting Licht along when he'd spotted her sneaking out. Leave her alone. A ridiculous notion. It was their duty as her older brothers to keep her safe.

"I'm clearly spending time with my friends."

"Friends? I've never met any of these people."

That would be because she didn't want them to meet. Corette inhaled to calm herself down. Yves was a bit overbearing at times, but she did always appreciate his intentions. "Do you want to?" The question left her mouth before she'd really thought it over.

Her brain quite fuzzy from the drinks.

Yves looked about as alarmed as she did at her sudden invitation. He'd tramped all the way through the forest to give her stern lecture and suddenly, it eluded him. Clearing his throat, he nodded in response. "Yes. I do want to."

It was always amazing how Yves could immerse himself in conversation with just about anyone. He'd befriended her friends in a short time, albeit some of the ladies were fawning over him.

"This is where you run off to?" Licht had opted to stick right by Corette's side while she introduced them. He'd been aware of her leaving the castle grounds, but never followed. It may have cost him some sleep to wait for her return, but he was always reassured when she came back unharmed.

The tired princess plopped down on the empty log, suddenly immensely exhausted. "Yes. It's better than any stuffy party at the palace."

"Because you don't have to be a princess?" It would have to have been her idea to not address anyone by status. He doubted even this mixture of nobles and commoners would have the gall to drop her title without permission.

"No. I mean, I guess." It wasn't that she didn't want to be a princess. "I like having friends who aren't worried about what they talk about around me because I'm a princess. For just a few hours, I'm just a girl who likes rum and reading mystery novels."

Licht settled beside her, noting the flush in her cheeks. The rum she so loved began to drain the energy from her body, as he'd witnessed many times before. "And wear poorly sewn pants."

Yves had nearly lost it when he'd seen what Corette was wearing. Practically naked in his eyes. A loose shirt that must have been old one of theirs, and unsightly pants cut up to her knees. He'd been appalled.

"It's not as though I learned to sew." She turned her head away in a huff of embarrassment. It wasn't as though she could ask the maids to make her any. The gossip would spread through the castle like wildfire. And then so many questions would be asked.

"What's wrong with the closet full of dresses that you have?" Yves interrupted the conversation, having escaped the crowd of inquiring teenagers.

"The layers, Yves. It's the layers. Besides, do you see anyone else here wearing dresses made of silk or ones embroidered with intricate lace designs? What's wrong with me wearing these?"

He pursed his lips at such an absurd question. "Because the seam is popping apart at the hem! They're too big for your frame, likely to fall off at any moment." He pinched the bridge of his nose. If that were to happen... what a scandal. "I'll have proper ones made if you promise to burn those monstrosities."

Huh?

She must have heard him wrong.

"Of course, I'll do it for you. That's what a good brother would do." Yves could easily read her. It was hurtful that Corette had fallen so far into distrust with him. But no matter how much she pushed, he'd never let her go. "So long as you aren't wearing them at inappropriate times."

It was surely the alcohol...

causing her heart to strain in her chest.

The three soon departed from the party. Licht carried her on his back since she'd lost her ability to walk straight. Neither of the brothers brought up the marriage, not wishing to upset her while so intoxicated.

Especially with the news that a certain Benitoite prince would be arriving at the castle in a few days.

fanboy!narumi who proceeds to pass out once he's back at the headquarters, your pretty smile and "i'm a big fan of you too, captain!" lingering in his mind.

fanboy!narumi who's close to start banging his head on the table when eventually you ask him for his number in a quiet, shy whisper. god, you don't know the nights he spent dreaming about this particular moment.

fanboy!narumi who's ever so clueless about how much of a big fan you are that you have a fan account of him as well, to the point you write about him too (you argue with his haters and fans alike online on the daily as well but that’s a story for another day).

fanboy!narumi whose mood improves every single day because now the two of you start talking to each other off and online with such familiarity and having friendly conversations that he goes to sleep every night thinking about them (and so do you <3).

fanboy!narumi who feels like he's won the lottery when you accept his invitation to go on a date with him.

fanboy!narumi who, months later, couldn't be any happier that you are his girlfriend and he's even planning to tell the whole world about it. he couldn't care less about the people who would protest against the idea of the top idol, you, dating japan's strongest anti-kaiju combatant. what are they gonna do? send a kaiju to him? pfft.

fanboy!narumi who believes delulu truly is the solulu.

He tosses his phone aside. That, more than anything, makes you pause. Your attention-seeking boyfriend abandoning his daily ego surf? This must be serious. "I'm your boyfriend, right?"

"… Yes?"

Gen's gaze snaps to yours in the mirror as he gasps dramatically. "Hey! Why'd you hesitate, huh?"

"Because it was a stupid question." You adjust the straps of your dress and smirk to yourself as his gaze drifts lower. The setting sun is golden and hazy as it spills into his bedroom, sending shadows stretching across the floor and catching along the mess scattered underfoot. You've long given up on trying to keep it tidy, merely shoving half-opened packages aside until there are clear enough pathways to the bathroom and door and his futon.

To be fair to Gen, since you've started dating his mess has gotten substantially less… messy. That might be because the first time you stepped on something while fumbling in the dark for the bathroom, you had threatened to never sleep over again and to scatter Lego blocks all over his floor when he'd least expect it.

You have a feeling the Lego blocks were what sealed the deal.

"Baaaaabe," your boyfriend whines, hopping over to you and grabbing your hands. He shoots you a pitiful look from under his bangs, though it doesn't really work when he's taller than you and keeps shooting glances down your dress. "Why're you kicking me while I'm down? Don't I deserve a pick me up?"

"That sounds like a you problem," you snort. "Besides, we're going to be late."

"As Captain of the First Division, shouldn't I get to choose what counts as 'late'?"

You squeeze his hands, smiling reluctantly at his declaration. He's so silly sometimes. "I don't want Hasegawa-san walking in on us again, okay?"

Gen's smirk spells trouble. He leans down a little until your noses brush. His sudden proximity makes your breath catch in your throat as his body heat seeps into your bare skin. "Oh? And what would he be walking in on, hm?"

"Just a little something to make you feel better after losing to Captain Ashiro today," you smile sweetly, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss him lightly. He chases your lips as you settle back on your heels, hands spanning your waist and pinning you against the mirror as he kisses you again.

It's so easy kissing Gen. His lips are soft but his kisses are bruising, all-encompassing and hot, a drumbeat beneath your skin. His lips move against yours like he's passing along secrets, messages that can only be transferred through his tongue licking into the depths of your mouth, and you find yourself clinging to his broad shoulders and wrinkling the fabric there even more.

"I like these earrings on you," he breathes, his hand smoothing up your back to flick one of the dangling strands. His other hand drifts lower and you squeak when he gives your ass a squeeze. "And this dress. You sure we've gotta go to this stuffy shindig?"

You fiddle with the button of his formal dress jacket as you pretend to think about it.

Gen tilts his head up so you can secure the high collar, waiting somewhat impatiently for your answer. You drag your fingers along his cheek, passing lightly over the bags under his eyes. He works hard, your captain, even if he acts like an idiot most of the time. "You'll be missed if we don't," you point out.

"Can't I eat you out first?" he asks, his voice rough.

"Gen!" you laugh, but your thighs clench as heat pools in your core. "Absolutely not. Even if Captain Ashiro kicked your ass in long distance shooting, you still need to show up to the ceremony! Besides, what about all your other titles? Don't you want to stand up there and show off your awards?"

"Nah, who cares about that stuff, anyway?"

You eye your boyfriend's pout. What a fucking lie. "Is this because of the bet?"

Gen doesn't look at you, but his hands settle on your hips. "No."

"I never would've thought the First Division Captain would be a sore loser."

"I'm not a loser," he shoots back immediately, "I'm the best. And all of those guys know it, too!"

You hum in what could be considered agreement, except there's a glint in your eye that makes Gen frown. He knew what he was getting into when he first asked you out — you, the newest engineer trained specially in Numbers weapons, well known throughout Japan for devising ways to lessen the strain on compatible users. You had come to the First Division to tweak Numbers Weapon One and and only stayed to make it your home base after Gen finally got you to date him.

And even after dating you for so long — after learning your likes and dislikes and the little quirks he associates with you — you still manage to keep him on his toes. You're easily his longest lasting and most serious relationship, and he has a feeling he's going to give you the rest of his life, too, because nobody else has ever come close to making him feel the way you do.

"It won't be that bad," you brush his hair out of his eyes and smile when he leans into the touch. "I'm sure Vice Captain Hoshina won't gloat that much, since we all knew you'd lose to Captain Ashiro. And you'll probably still look hot with your hair dyed another color."

"What — of course I'd still be hot but — wait, how did you know that?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I have my sources."

Gen's eyes narrow as he searches your face. "Don't tell me… you're still friends with that bowl cut bastard?!"

"I've known him for longer than I've known you, you know."

"Yeah, but you're my girlfriend!" Gen's fingers tighten around your waist, but it's not uncomfortable. He's always surprisingly careful with you, and the gesture warms your heart even as your brow twitches with annoyance.

"Don't be stupid," you tug a little harshly on his ear and smirk when he yelps in surprise. "He's letting me choose what color you'll dye your hair, but I'm not letting you have an opinion about it unless you can guess the color of my panties tonight."

Gen's eyes gleam in the mirror's reflected sunset and his lips curl into a smirk that tells you he's forgotten about protesting your friendship with the Third Division Vice Captain. "Do I get a hint?"

"You already got one earlier," you say primly, grabbing his hands and bringing them to his own hips. "Now hands to yourself, loverboy. We've got an awards ceremony to attend."

It isn't until much, much later that evening — once you're back in his room and he's shed his formal dress uniform jacket and shirt — that you take pity on him. He'd made guesses all night, whispering random colors and patterns in your ear between speeches, making you giggle into your sparkling cider while he watched with a grin on his face.

"Do you give up yet?" you ask, reaching for his belt buckle and leaning up for another deep kiss. Gen groans into your mouth, pressing you back into his futon as you arch up into him. His hand is hot against the soft plush of your thigh, a stark contrast to the silky fabric he's slowly drawing upwards.

"White with pink peaches," he mumbles, smiling into the kiss when you laugh.

"I don't even have a pair like that, Gen," you remind him. His hand pauses halfway up your thigh and skips up to your waist, the fabric bunching as he pulls you into him. Your legs fall apart to let him settle between them, but your dress is still blocking his view.

"I'll get you a pair like that," he says roughly, nipping at your neck just to hear you moan. "I'll get you all of 'em. You'll look hot as hell."

You've managed to shove his pants and briefs halfway off his hips and he quickly kicks them the rest of the way off, so the wet tip of his hard cock smears along the inside of your thigh as he settles. You hold your breath as he shifts, blinking slowly when his cock catches along your wet slit and he stills.

Gen's eyes are wide. You can't help but grin up at him as his jaw works.

"Isn't that cheating?" he huffs.