We lay our scene many, many years ago, in a kingdom filled with flowers by the sea. There were lush green fields and expansive rice paddies, with forests in between that held hidden secrets. The people who resided in the realm were kind and kept mostly to themselves. The king and queen were compassionate and just, beloved by many. Their eldest progeny was a princess, who was wise for her age and would certainly become an excellent leader, though she would only inherit half of the kingdom.
The other half would go to the king and queen's other child, a son. His name was Katsuki Yuuri, and he was rather timid and anxious. He often wondered how he would be able to rule a country when he had a difficult time working up the courage to even speak to foreign diplomats, let alone negotiate with them. When he was younger, he had foolishly hoped that his worries would disappear with time. Unfortunately, he had not; he was of age, and still had a tough time making even simple decisions.
Yuuri sighed, foot shaking under his thigh as he kneeled. He was in another tedious war "council," although "argument" was a more suitable word. All of the military leaders cared very deeply about keeping their citizens safe, they just had widely differing opinions on how to do that. There was frequent passionate quarreling and glowers made of knives; once Yuuri was subjected to a man's animated recitation of a haiku that he had personally written on why his strategy was the most superior.
Hardly anything ever got resolved, and Yuuri didn't even know why he had to be present. It was far too loud for him to be noticed even if he had a point or thought to share. He already had an aching, throbbing headache, and hearing the elderly General Yamamoto go on a tirade about "battles from the good old days" was definitely not helping. A red-faced man with a wispy mustache and goatee roared and stood up, slamming his ornate paper fan on the low table beside him. All eyes turned to him, and Yuuri saw his opportunity. Quietly, he slipped out of the room before anyone could notice.
His steps thumped softly against the wooden flooring of the hallway, and he gazed up at the regal paintings on the shōji of ancestors long dead as he moved past them. Nervously, he chewed his cheek, removed his tall hat, and pulled out the string binding up his hair so that it fell around him like a shroud. How could he ever live up to the expectations that they had set? It was as if they were all giving him disappointed looks, like they already knew that he was a failure. A dreadfully familiar empty, sinking feeling settled in his chest, and he looked down at his tabi socks. He quickened his pace, yearning to free himself from the scrutinizing watch of his forefathers.
Yuuri sighed in relief as he rounded a corner, and wondered if Phichit was around somewhere. He desperately needed someone to talk to, and his friend usually brightened his day. But with a despondent sigh, he recalled that Phichit was at his sick mother's house for the week to help take care of his siblings until she could recover. Who else could he turn to to confide in? His sister was busy with her lessons, and his parents were away on a diplomatic mission. There was absolutely nobody. Despair rose up inside of him, and a lump formed in his throat. He felt so utterly alone…
Yuuri took a relatively unused side exit, gingerly opening and closing the sliding panel door, and started down an overgrown path. Large stone lanterns were on either side, crumbling ruins of once elegantly carved light sources. Not many people went this way anymore. The garden at the end of the trail had been long since abandoned and left to become wild. A branch scraped against his thigh, and although he was sure it was bleeding, he felt too hollow to care.
Finally, he arrived at a clearing. Beyond it was a dense forest that nobody entered besides the bravest hunters. Legend told that the woods were the domain of a powerful demon, but he suspected that it was just an old wives' tale to keep children from wandering into the thick trees and getting lost.
Yuuri sat down on the soft, spongy moss and then laid back. He set his hat down and tried to relax, but his melancholy wouldn't stop gnawing away at him. Tears welled in his eyes, but he couldn't entirely give a clear reason as to why. A breeze blew through, and some delicate purple petals landed on him. He looked up, and through the parting of the wisteria tendrils above him, he could see fragments of azure sky like shattered glass. The current gently lifted the hair off of his forehead, and he could hear wind chimes somewhere in the distance.
Nearby was a dried-up pond bed, a collapsing stone bridge arching over it and the koi that had once inhabited it long gone. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scents of spring that filled the air. He stretched his fingers out and caught hold of sun-warmed stones, then began softly picking them up and letting them fall again.
The atmosphere was so peaceful, and yet Yuuri couldn't help but feel… He couldn't quite describe it. It was as if a piece of him was missing, leaving only a gaping void in its wake. But underneath the massive weight crushing him, there was a different sensation deep inside of his chest. It was akin to the small buzz of a bumblebee or a flickering flame; a spark of something beginning or changing. It made him uneasy and set him even more on edge.
Yuuri heard a rustling, and his eyes flew open, heart pounding wildly. Had someone discovered him here? Panic jolted through his system as he waited there, alert and ready to flee.
He let out a breath when a pale golden cat with faint spotted markings stepped out of the bushes nearby.
"Oh," he exclaimed, mildly surprised. He didn't think that any of the resident felines looked like this. Perhaps it was a stray? He offered a small smile. He had a soft spot for animals. The cat ignored him, sauntering forward.
Yuuri outstretched a hand to pet it, but got hissed at menacingly. "Oh, sorry," he apologized guiltily, even though the kitty couldn't understand him. Up close, he could see that it was fairly small, too big to be a kitten but not quite an adult.
To Yuuri's surprise, the cat bit the hem of his kimono and attempted to drag him away. He watched, bewildered, as the cat pawed at his leg to try and pull him. With a gasp, he realized that needle-like claws had scratched his skin. He stood up to try and deter the animal, but it was determined to take him somewhere. He tried to walk away, but the cat held its ground with its jaws firmly clamped on the bottom of his clothing.
"Stop, please." The cat glared up at him in response, aquamarine eyes narrowed. Yuuri was scared to touch it to move it in fear of being attacked.
He halted and began to think. What would be the harm in just going where the cat wanted him to? Nobody would miss him for many hours, and he had nothing better to do.
He caved in, and started in the direction in which he was being tugged. The cat trotted ahead of him quickly, and Yuuri struggled to keep up. He wasn't really a fast walker (or runner for that matter).
The cat entered the forest and Yuuri came to a stop, pulse fluttering in trepidation as frightening stories about the woods from his childhood began flashing through his mind. Oni, monstrous boars, gashadokuro… and then the powerful demon rumored to reign here. But he shook his head to try and forget these things and pressed forward. There was probably nothing to worry about.
As he left the garden a chill ghosted down his spine and he almost turned back, but then chastised himself bitingly. 'Stop being so anxious, it's pathetic.'
With a gulp, Yuuri plunged even deeper into the trees. Again and again he looked behind him, and soon the broad yakusugi trunks had entirely obscured the view of the castle.
A blanket of mist had covered the whole landscape, cold and wet. He could swear that he could see shadowy figures in the fog, but it was probably just his imagination. Bizarre mushrooms clung to decaying logs, and he kept finding himself slowing down to examine plant life that he had never seen before. Everytime he did this, however, the cat would sit down and yowl impatiently until he had caught up. Occasionally he was afraid that he had lost the cat, but then it reappeared. It seemed to grow more and more irritated every time.
They crossed trickling streams on rocks slick with vibrant green moss, and faced thick undergrowth that clung to Yuuri's fine clothes (although he didn't mind very much). His legs began to ache with fatigue, and he wished that he had brought a horse with him.
Where in the world was the cat taking him? It felt like he had been stumbling forward over roots and sticks for hours. The sun began to descend in the sky, and he was thinking about turning back. Following the cat had been such a foolish decision… God, he was stupid.
He soon realized that this was his only option now though; he had no clue how to get back to the palace, and that thought frightened him immensely.
At long last, the feline guided Yuuri through an opening and into a clearing beside a river. Sitting on a boulder right in the middle of the tumbling water was the most radiant person that he had ever seen in his entire life.