Chapter Text
May 8th, XXXX
The sharp knife glints in the light, his reflection bouncing off the silver blade. Clicking his tongue, Ouma throws the knife, hitting the center of the dartboard spot on. He grabs another, inspects it, then throws it with precision. It lands right beside the first knife. Ouma yawns, stretching, and walks out of the training room, whistling.
“Harumaki-chan~! Where are you?” Ouma yells across the hallway. The guards lining the hall all flinch in surprise, taking fighting stance, before relaxing upon seeing the young prince. Komaeda, his personal guard, motions for the guards to stand down, and they follow. A door slams open, the ferocity almost knocking it off its hinges. Princess Harukawa, his older sister, stomps down the hall, grabs him by his ear (narrowly missing his earring), and drags him into her room, forcing him into her chair. Komaeda closes the door behind the two gently. Harukawa sits on her own bed, facing him.
“Tch, what do you want, brat?” Harukawa mutters, glaring at him, “and don’t you ever call me that again.”
Ouma stares at her, amused. “Whyyy, is it because spaceman Kaito calls you by that name and you want it to be special?” He grins childishly. Harukawa seethes silently.
“I seriously can’t understand how you were born into this family,” Harukawa grumbles, “and no, it has nothing to do with that idiot at all.”
It’s no secret to Ouma that Harukawa is fond of her personal guard. Five years together is an awfully long time to be stuck with someone, after all. But then again, he and Harukawa have been together their whole lives and she still seems to despise him. He can’t blame her though. He’s honestly surprised that Komaeda isn’t fed up with him still, but after three years of getting to know the guy, he can proudly say that his guard/servant is about as weird as he is.
“Okay, sure... I just wanted to give you my plans to capture the Princess of Jabberwock!” He exclaims. Harukawa scoffs.
“Jabberwock has twelve princesses, and I know damn well you’re not interested in girls in the least.” She deadpans. “Spit it out, what do you want?”
Ouma pouts, and crosses his legs in the seat. Harukawa’s chair is like his- honestly, it’s sort of like a throne. A soft red cushion covers her chair, contrasting the purple that adorns his. A golden embroidery frames the throne-like chair, matching his own.
“Aw man, you’re no fun. Well then, if we’re being all serious,” Ouma pauses, inspecting his fingernails, “When is my next assignment coming out? I’m getting kinda bored...”
Harukawa stiffens, gaze sharpening. “...So you’re really getting used to it now, huh?” She asks, keeping a sharp eye on him. He shrugs.
His morals be damned. As much as he despised the mere idea of killing when he was younger, he’s the Prince of DICE- and DICE has a deep, dark secret- its royal children were trained at a young age to become assassins. He still despises killing, but after enduring intense training that worked him to the bone, and after his first five or six kills... he’s gotten used to it. He’s heard that his kingdom has a reason for killing all their victims, but he’s never given the reason, even after he assassinates the victim.
“Nonetheless, Father and Mother have decided to postpone your next assignment until after they find a... prince to wed me off to,” Harukawa states melancholically, staring at the roof of her chambers. Ouma sees her eyes filled with some sort of emotion he can’t decipher, a rare occurrence. He sighs.
“Ugh, the old man won’t stop talking about it! Who are they planning to wed you off to anyways?” He complains, trying to tone down the arrogance since he knows his sister isn’t happy with the arrangement.
“It’s not like I can do anything about it, I’ve been avoiding this for two years now. Father is thinking of the Prince of Hope’s Peak, because then, their Princess can be wed off to the Prince of Jabberwock,” she says. Ouma will never admit it for as long as he lives, but he feels a slight twinge of sympathy for his older sister. If he hadn’t lived with her his whole life, then he probably wouldn’t give two shits, but he already knows about her infatuation with Momota.
Harukawa is currently twenty, two years past when she was supposed to get engaged. Luckily, she was able to hold off for two years, seeing as none of the princes of the other kingdoms were ready yet. However, the King of Hope’s Peak came down with a life-threatening illness recently, and his son has to step up to get ready and take the throne. The King of Jabberwock is becoming too old to handle all the stress of carrying the duties of king, so his son is stepping up too. Their kingdom ended up getting caught up in the mess, and now Harukawa has to get married to either of the two, as she is still an unmarried princess. Ouma himself is eighteen, but he’s a prince, and as customs go, princes in DICE weren't required to get engaged until they reached their twentieth birthday.
“I mean, have you ever met either of the princes?” Ouma asks, a bit curious. Harukawa shakes her head no.
“I’ve only seen pictures. However, I must say, neither are my type. The Prince of Jabberwock, Amami Rantaro, seems like a total douche, and the Prince of Hope’s Peak, Saihara Shuichi, seems like he has extreme social anxiety or sleep deprivation,” Harukawa says. Ouma giggles.
“Nishishi! I know your type: personal guards with spiky purple hair, a goatee, a hero complex, and a space obsession!” Ouma jokes. Harukawa sends him a cold glare, but the tenseness in the room dies down.
“Do you want to die?”
It’s at dinner the following night when Harukawa is informed of her husband-to-be.
“...and we’ve decided,” their father, the King of DICE, clears his throat, “we’ll be marrying you off to the Prince of Hope’s Peak, and the Princess of Hope’s Peak will be wedded to the Prince of Jabberwock.”
Harukawa nods stiffly, stating a, “Yes, Father,” before returning to her meal. Ouma contemplates for a moment. Prince of Hope’s Peak... he believes the name is Saihara Shuichi...
“And Kokichi.” Ouma’s snapped out of his thoughts when the King calls his name too. “Your next assignment will be given to you in a week’s time. Meet me in the dungeon chamber to get your information.”
Ouma grimaces, and gives a hum of acknowledgment, picking at his food. His last assignment was given to him about a month ago, so it’s no surprise that he’s getting one again. His last victim was a sketchy-looking manager, and he was so easy to kill, it was laughable. He catches Harukawa’s eye, and sends her a slight nod. She looks away.
The two of them end up chatting in Ouma’s chambers that night, though the air is filled with a sort of tension. Momota and Komaeda stand guard outside, and Ouma can tell that Momota is in a sour mood that day, but doesn’t comment on it. He even decides not to mess with him for once; the guard probably heard about the news regarding Harukawa.
“Prince Saihara will be arriving at the castle tomorrow morning, around ten,” Harukawa tells him as she’s fiddling with her crossbow. So, he’ll already be at the training grounds, which is okay with him. He isn’t particularly interested in meeting the prince.
“...How do you think it’ll go?” He asks after a moment of contemplation. She doesn’t look up, but he already knows her answer.
“I don’t know if I’ll enjoy it. Though I have to act as I always do,” she murmurs, and Ouma can almost swear he sees a shine to her eyes. Maybe just a trick of the light. Just maybe.
Ouma falls asleep that night, thinking of how much emotion Harukawa has shown him that day. It’s strange, she’s always been so composed, so uncaring of anything, but the sadness he swears he saw in her eyes is something he’ll never forget. It’s something he desperately wants to forget, no matter how much he claims he dislikes his sister.
The training grounds is different from the training room. The training room is located within the dungeons of the castle. It’s the place where assassins train, like him and Harukawa, and nobody but the higher ups know about it. The training grounds is located in the castle’s courtyard, and that’s where the royals train with a sword. Every prince and royal guard is required to train there daily, and they have a certain frame of time to train. While other guards train in groups, Ouma trains alone, and is given an hour to himself on the grounds to practice with his sword. Unlike the training room, every kingdom has training grounds.
Ouma arrives at the training grounds at 9:45 in the morning sharp, and pulls out his training sword. Maki never liked using swords, nishishi, he thinks, amused. His training sword is less detailed than his actual sword, but it’s still beautiful nonetheless.
The blade is much duller, as to avoid fatal injuries, and the hilt is obsidian, embedded with jewels of all sorts. Sometimes, he thinks about how much each jewel is worth. One jewel can possibly feed a whole family of villagers for months. He never likes thinking he’s a rich kid, but with his possessions, he can’t even deny it. Maybe one day, he can sneak out of the castle and give away some of his thousands of pieces of jewelry. Not that he has a reason, he’s just bored. He hardly even remembers the last time he’s left the castle.
Thirty minutes in, and he’s already sweating buckets, shirt thrown off and arms sore. He’s honestly extremely glad that he gets the whole training ground to himself, since he would never survive training with his outfit on, and he would never strip in front of others. He flicks the bead of sweat trickling down his forehead off, positioning himself to hit the dummy again.
He lifts his sword, only to freeze when he hears a soft click, signally the gate to the courtyard is unlocked. Is it Komaeda? His guard usually stands watch outside the courtyard, to prevent anyone from entering. He clicks his tongue, a bit annoyed, since he’s literally shirtless and he probably doesn’t look his hottest now, but he sees Harukawa and a stranger walking into the courtyard. He squints.
Harukawa spots him, and doesn’t even bat an eye, walking towards him. The stranger walking beside her, however, jumps and covers his eyes, apologizing profusely. Ouma laughs.
“Maki, who’s this? I wasn’t informed someone would be training with me today,” he jokes, lowering his sword. She looks at him, unamused, and points to the stranger.
“This is Prince Saihara Shuichi of Hope’s Peak,” she introduces. Ouma tilts his head. Ahh, makes sense. He takes in the other boy’s features. Golden-yellow eyes framed by long eyelashes that honestly look fake, but suit him very well. Navy blue hair that reaches just above his shoulders. A line of hair sticking out of his head (an ahoge, Ouma’s mind supplies him, amused.) Obviously taller, a probably by half a foot. Probably has social anxiety, too, judging from his reaction. Harukawa points at Ouma, looking at Saihara.
“And this,” she jabs a finger at Ouma’s pale chest, and he pouts, “is my idiot little brother, Prince Ouma Kokichi.”
Ouma bows lowly, which probably looks ridiculous with how he’s half naked in the courtyard, but then stands back up straight and holds out a hand to the other prince.
“Nice to meet you, Saihara-chan!” He exclaims, as Saihara hesitantly grabs his hand and shakes it, mumbling a greeting back. Ouma wonders what his voice really sounds like. Harukawa sends him a chilling glare, and he gives her a childlike smile.
“That’s Prince Saihara to you, Kokichi.” She corrects, looking like she’ll strangle him right in front of the other male. His smile changes to a wide grin.
“A-ah, Princess Harukawa, it’s okay...” Saihara speaks up, and Ouma can finally put a voice to the name and face. Harukawa sighs deeply.
“He’s a brat, but you’ll get used to it eventually,” she mutters, “and also, you can call me Harukawa, no need for the formalities, I guess.”
Ouma almost feels bad that Saihara has to get married to the emotionless train wreck that is Harukawa, but he honestly hopes that Harukawa’s doing okay with the arrangement so far. He sends a silent question with his eyes, and she nods. Ouma hums, and lifts his sword to rest against his shoulder.
“I’ll get back to training, you guys go do whatever.” He yawns. “And don’t get hit by the sword by the way, it packs a real punch.” He walks away, and Harukawa leads Saihara to the back of the courtyard where the castle garden is located.
Ouma finishes his training and heads directly to the training room, already feeling like falling asleep again. He seriously hates that the castle requires two hours of training for assassins, and usually, time is easier to pass with Harukawa training with him. However, she’s probably still showing Saihara around, so he guesses that he has to just train alone today.
The next time he sees Harukawa and Saihara, it’s during lunch. Today, it’s just the three of them, since his parents have some “important business” to do. (Ouma jokes that they’re probably fucking, and Saihara sputters, face reddening in embarrassment. He smiles at Harukawa innocently as she breaks the fork that she’s holding.)
“So, how old are you, Prince Ouma?” Saihara asks politely.
“Just call me Ouma, the ‘prince’ stuff makes me feel like I’m being addressed by the castle guards or servants,” he laments. Saihara nods.
“But to answer your question, I’m twenty-five! And I’m not really the prince, I’m just a stranger visiting the castle,” he answers, folding his arms behind his head. He thinks Harukawa breaks another utensil, but ignores it in favor of seeing Saihara’s reaction.
“Y-you’re not the prince? Then-!” Saihara pauses, a hand covering his mouth, thinking. “No, I know you’re the prince. The prince has purple hair from the queen, and purple eyes from the king. Also, from what I’ve heard from Harukawa, you’re her little brother, so you’re probably younger than twenty...” he looks him in the eye. “So you’re most likely lying to me.”
The table goes silent, and a loud clang can be heard as Harukawa drops the spoon she’s holding. Saihara looks panicked, probably about to offer an apology, so Ouma intervenes.
Ouma gasps, eyes shining in excitement. “Wow! You’re the first person to catch me in my lies, Saihara-chan! Color me impressed! You’re right actually, I’m the prince and I’m eighteen! Tell me, are you secretly a detective or something?”
Saihara’s cheeks redden slightly, and he ducks his head, mumbling something that’s far too quiet for him to hear.
“Louder, Saihara-chan~” he urges.
“Um, I actually am a detective. Not full time, but I balance it with my prince duties,” he mumbles, looking embarrassed. Ouma almost falls off his chair.
“Hey, hey. We need to become best friends. Actually, I think I’ll marry you, Harukawa can find someone else,” Ouma jokes. Harukawa facepalms, and Saihara turns beet red.
“I-I couldn’t possibly do that, I’m sorry-!” Saihara starts, looking on the verge of another panic attack, but Ouma pats his arm.
“I’m only kidding, nishishi. Though, the fact that you’re a detective makes knowing you sooo much better, and that’s not a lie,” he says, grinning. Saihara gives him a weak smile.
“Kokichi, I swear to god I’m going to murder you,” Harukawa threatens, stabbing a piece of watermelon, “if Mother and Father were here, you’d be in some deep shit.” Ouma sticks his tongue out at her.
“Anyways, moving on,” Ouma begins, “how long will you be staying here? I didn’t hear about it, so I’m curious.”
“He’s staying for three days, including today, and we’ll be going to his kingdom the three days following that,” Harukawa answers for him. Ouma balks.
“‘We?’” He asks. Harukawa nods.
“You’ll be coming with me. The Princess of Hope’s Peak was to come with Saihara, however, she’s going to get engaged to the Prince of Jabberwock, so she’s currently visiting him. She’ll be back by the time we go to Saihara’s kingdom,” she informs, then adds, “In three weeks’ time, Saihara and I will officially be engaged.” Along with that announcement, Ouma realizes- At the end of all this visiting stuff, I’ll be getting my new assignment. He stands up and stretches, erasing the thought.
“Well, sure this meeting was fun, but I think I’m late for etiquette classes or whatever,” Ouma checks the clock, seeing that he’s about ten minutes late. “Eh, Toujo-chan won’t care. Why do guys gotta learn etiquette anyways? Aren’t we all taught to be manly or something?” He grumbles, before waving a goodbye to the other two.
“Are you heading over to your etiquette classes now, my Prince?” Komaeda asks when he leaves the room. Ouma gives him a deadpanned look.
“Nagito-chan, do you really think I’m going to be going to those classes?” he asks. Komaeda chuckles.
“I guessed that you wouldn’t go, but I wanted to ask. After all, worthless scum like me would never want to assume something of someone as important as you!” Komaeda exclaims. “Also, it’s technically my job to bring you there, but if Prince Ouma decides he doesn’t want to go, then we won’t,” he adds. Ouma slaps his arm.
“Stop with that self-deprecating shit, it’s depressing!” He complains. Komaeda bows, apologizing, before following Ouma.
He walks in the direction opposite of the etiquette class, scoffing. If they actually think he’s going to class with royalty from a different kingdom in his castle, they’re just playing themselves. Also, Harukawa won’t be there for him to annoy. Though, he does feel a bit bad for Toujo for having to wait in an empty classroom. Just a little..
Ouma heads back to his chambers, pulling out a small folder of blueprints and spreading them out on the table. Iruma will definitely be happy with these designs. Oh boy, Iruma.
Iruma Miu, self-proclaimed “gorgeous girl genius,” and the DICE Kingdom’s royal inventor. He hasn’t seen her at all this week, which is strange since they’re usually throwing curses at each other every day, but he’s thinking that she’s probably busy scarring someone for life. He decides that he’ll bring her the folder tomorrow.
Ouma opens his first drawer to pull out a handful of documents belonging to the royal court. He’ll honestly get into so much trouble if he’s caught with these documents, since he stole them from the court one night with his lockpicks, but he can’t bring himself to care- nobody even reads these documents anymore. They’re just a bunch of papers with the kingdom’s laws and some strange information about witches with magic that he doesn’t believe in. He skims through a few new documents, detailing the punishments for bribery, and shoves the documents back into the drawer, uninterested.
He flops onto his bed in his too-many-layers of royal attire. He hears three quiet taps at his door, and hollers for whoever’s out there to come in. It’s probably Komaeda, not like it matters anyway. The door opens. It’s Momota.
“Oh? Is Momo-chan not accompanying Harumaki-chan on her little date?” He asks, and Momota grumbles.
“That’s not why I’m here, you know why I came,” he says gruffly. Ouma tilts his head to the side, a finger pressed against his chin.
“Whatever do you mean, Momota-chan?” He asks. He does know- it’s probably for his etiquette class, but toying with the other is a little too fun.
“Ugh, you have to go to etiquette classes you know! I can’t believe your guard just lets you skip out on it. Toujo is still waiting!” He exclaims. Ouma glares at him.
“You know damn well I’m not going, I think I’m good staying right here in the comfort of my own room,” he claims. “Also, why’d you think I like Nagito-chan so much? That’s what makes him so cool,” he adds. Momota looks half about to drag him out of the room. He sits up, motioning for Momota to come closer. He hesitates, but obliges.
“Say, are you upset that Harukawa’s with Prince Saihara?” Ouma asks, and Momota freezes.
“...My personal feelings stay out of this. It’s none of my business,” he mutters, looking away. Ouma sighs, and pats the space next to him to allow for Momota to sit. He looks surprised for a moment, but sits down nonetheless.
“Royalty is really messed up, huh,” he drawls, staring out the window adorning purple curtains.
“Yeah. And before you know it, you’ll probably get wed off too,” Momota reminds him.
“Bleh. Don’t remind me, I don’t even want to think about getting married to a girl,” Ouma says, nose scrunching up. Harukawa and Momota are the only people in the palace who know of his sexuality- if anyone else knew, he’d be in trouble for sure.
They both go silent, and Ouma wonders how the future will be. How can he marry someone he knows he won’t end up liking? It’s not like anyone can love him for being himself, either. And, he carries the burden of assassinating dozens of shady people. If anyone were to find out his kingdom’s secret, then the higher ups of DICE will likely all be executed.
Ouma’s so used to wrapping himself up in lies, building barrier upon barrier, and annoying people nonstop. He wonders if the person he has to marry in the future will break past those walls, and love him for who he is. Frankly, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of falling in love. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to stop killing, the assignment for next week coming closer and closer by the minute. He wonders if Harukawa will ever get her happy ending with Momota.
Maybe in a different universe. One where they aren’t royalty, but are classmates in a famous high school, who are free to do whatever. Not forced into killing, marrying, or ruling. Maybe in a different universe.
When Momota leaves, Ouma falls asleep, and he swears he dreams of going to a school wearing an ugly brown uniform and his signature checkered scarf, hands locked with a blue-haired boy’s that looks so much like Saihara, golden-yellow eyes staring at him fondly.