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A Day in the Life of A Prince

A Café where students would regularly visit for eating, chatting, or studying, two students, who are from Takamagahara High school, are spotted sitting at the corner with a long pane window showing the bright and vibrant hues painted across the afternoon sky.

"How does it taste?" Hirahara Shousuke, The treasurer of the Student Council, has an air of elegance and composure. His long, smooth midnight-colored hair cascades gracefully over his shoulders, strands gleaming faintly under the room's lights, the inky black locks, and his dark skin had a warm undertone which contrast beautifully with his captivating sapphire eyes, framed by fluttering lashes.

The delicate curve of his cupid's bow softens his otherwise composed expression, adding a touch of allure, seemingly holding a secret depth, reflecting both intelligence and a hint of mystery as he sat in front of another boy who is also a part of the Student Council.

Sitting across from him is the vice president, a boy with tousled blonde hair that catches the light and sharp emerald eyes that seem to pierce through anything in their path. His expression is aloof, lips set in a faint frown that accentuates his naturally cold demeanor. Despite his rude and dismissive attitude, there's an undeniable attraction to his confidence and the way he carries himself, it is no wonder how he could break so many hearts.

He chews slowly before swallowing. "Cinnamon muffin and you squeezed in lime."

"Whaaaat? You knew?? Come on!" The second year treasurer whined as the boy in front of him scoffed,

"You think I did not expect you bullshitting me? Please. Besides," he picks up a mochi donut and shoves it to Shousuke's mouth to cease his whining, "I've been dragged by President Horimiya and forced to swallow every single pastry she purchased."

The vice president furrowed his brows, a look of genuine discomfort crossing his face. "It makes me shiver just thinking about it," he muttered, voice dripping with disdain.

Shousuke swallowed the mochi donut, brushing a stray crumb from the corner of his mouth with an air of casual elegance. "Well, it has its pros, doesn't it?" he hummed. "You get to be close to your crush and eat free food." He plucked up one of the pastries in front of him, biting into it with a satisfied sigh as he savored the sweetness.

A blonde brow twitched in visible irritation. "Stop saying I have a crush on her. I don't," the vice president snapped, tone sharp but faltering just enough to make Shousuke's smile widen.

Shousuke merely shrugged, lips curling into a playful smile that showed just a hint of teeth. "Who knows," he mused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Maybe your feelings will slowly develop as you spend time with her. She's beautiful and talented, after all."

The vice president scoffed, but the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks betrayed him. "You're insufferable," he grumbled, glaring daggers at Shousuke, who only chuckled in response, clearly enjoying every second of it.

Shousuke picked up a teriyaki with a grin, leaning forward until the savory treat was just a breath away from his kouhai's lips. "And don't forget to invite me as your best groomsman, 'meo," he chimed, ending his sentence with a playful wink.

Arakawa Yumeo— the infamous Blackhearted Prince of the school ��fixed him with a glare that could freeze over hell. Befriending this cold-hearted prince had been no easy feat; in fact, Hirahara Shousuke hadn't really done anything to become friends with him. But that was a tale for another day.

Yumeo's emerald eyes narrowed suspiciously, but after a moment's hesitation— and a dramatic sigh— he parted his lips and accepted the teriyaki, chewing with an air of begrudging defeat. "Why are you pushing me towards her in the first place?" he muttered between bites, voice low and irritated. "You don't even like her at all."

Shousuke hummed thoughtfully, tapping a slender finger to his chin as if in deep contemplation. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and after a beat, he snapped his fingers with an exaggerated flourish. "Ah, that's easy," he replied, clasping his hands together before pointing his index fingers at the blonde. "Because you two are hot."

Yumeo paused mid-chew, the faintest twitch in his brow betraying his irritation. His expression flattened into a deadpan stare, unimpressed and dangerously close to murderous. "Are you serious."

"Absolutely," Shousuke replied without missing a beat, resting his chin in his palm with a lazy grin. "Think of the power couple you'd make. The whole school would swoon."

Yumeo's glare darkened, the tips of his ears turning suspiciously red. "You're such an idiot," he muttered, reaching for a pastry if only to resist the urge to strangle his smug senpai.

"An idiot with taste," Shousuke countered, chuckling softly. "Don't worry, 'meo, I'll give a great speech at your wedding."

Yumeo let out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I hate you," he grumbled, but the lack of heat in his voice made the raven haired boy smile, putting his arms up in mock surrender.

"Okay okay, it's because she's talented in– weeeeell..." He waves his hand into a circle, "every and all aspects. She's sweet, she's kind, she's quick-witted and all great things said about her by other students seem to be true whenever we interact with her. And if she ever has flaws, her positive traits are high enough to look overlook them, I mean, who would not be attracted to her?"

Horimiya Izanami— the sun of the school, a bright light that everyone seeks and is sought after. Her smile could melt the frostiest of hearts, and her laughter seemed to chase away even the darkest shadows. Teachers adored her, students admired her, and not a single flaw could be found in her polished demeanor. Wouldn't it be interesting to see the prince of heartbreaks get together with the personification of the sun?

Shousuke popped a cream puff into his mouth with nonchalance, chewing thoughtfully before speaking. "Unless," he mused, licking a bit of cream from the corner of his lips, "you're someone who isn't sexually or romantically interested in anyone and everyone. Hell, if I were straight, I'd probably fall for her." His tone was light, but his sapphire eyes glinted with curiosity as they fixed on Yumeo.

The aforementioned heartbreaker sipped his tea calmly, as if they weren't discussing his love life— or lack thereof —over a pile of pastries. After a moment, he set his cup down with a soft clink, emerald eyes narrowed and unimpressed. "You consider romance as something boring or frivolous," he remarked coolly, a challenge laced in his voice. "So why bother pushing it on me?"

Shousuke let out a hum, resting his chin onto his palm. "Well..." he drawled, flicking a strand of midnight hair over his shoulder. "Because seeing you flustered is hilarious. And," he added with a sly smile, "you're always so grumpy— maybe a little sunshine would do you good."

Yumeo's glare sharpened, but the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks betrayed him. "You're insufferable," he muttered, reaching for another pastry with a bit more force than necessary.

Shousuke gave a shrug in response, popping another cream puff into his mouth with a hum of delight. "Ah, but you like it," he teased, words muffled slightly by the pastry.

Yumeo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I swear, one of these days—"

"You'll fall for my charms?" Shousuke interrupted, curling a strand of his hair with his finger.

"In your dreams," Yumeo snapped, ears burning red as Shousuke's chuckle echoed warmly amongst the chatter of students in the Café.

Shousuke, despite being nominated as the treasurer, kept a strict policy of doing exactly what his title required— nothing more, nothing less.

You wanted him to count and distribute funds for the school? He'd do it, swiftly and efficiently.

Needed someone to organize the budget? He'd already be one step ahead, neat spreadsheets and reports ready with almost mechanical precision. However, the moment anyone suggested that the Student Council members were required to give speeches, attend ceremonies, or show face at any public event that didn't directly involve his duties, Shousuke would whip out an excuse and dip out.

Rumors, trends, parties, and social events held no appeal to him. The mere thought of wasting energy on small talk, listening to the rich brats bragging about their achievements and parents wealth, or pretending to care about school gossip was exhausting. His avoidance was so consistent that most of the council had stopped talking to him involving mindless chatter altogether— except for Yumeo, of course.

One day, Yumeo found him on the rooftop, reclining against the chain-link fence with lazy elegance, a book propped open in one hand and a half-eaten chicken bread in the other. Below, the sounds of applause and muffled speeches drifted up faintly from the ceremony Shousuke was very much supposed to be attending.

Yumeo crossed his arms, emerald eyes narrowing in mild irritation. "Skipping another one, huh." He remarked, a statement rather than a question, but there was no real bite in his tone—only the weary exasperation of someone who was too used to Shousuke's antics by now.

Without bothering to look up, Shousuke took another bite of his chicken bread, chewing leisurely before responding. "People bore me, so does socializing," he said flatly, flicking a page of his book with a slender finger. "Don't want to exert energy over something unimportant."

Yumeo scoffed, leaning against the fence beside him with a half-hearted glare. "Unimportant?" he repeated, voice laced with disbelief. "It's literally part of your job."

"Actually," Shousuke drawled, letting out a yawn, "it's not. My job is to manage funds and paperwork, not smile at crowds or give speeches. That's your problem." He waved a dismissive hand, as if to shoo away the very idea of public appearances.

Yumeo's brow twitched, clearly resisting the urge to smack him across the head. "You're unbelievable," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Mm, I try," Shousuke hummed, lips curling into a lazy smile. He closed his book with a soft snap, eyes glinting with mischief as he glanced up at Yumeo. "Besides, it's not like you need me down there. You're pretty enough to charm the whole school by yourself."

Yumeo's ears flared red, the glare he shot in response murderous. "I will throw you off this roof," he growled.

"How charming."

It was understandable, really— so Yumeo had no idea why Shousuke was so suddenly interested in his love life. The blonde leaned against the chair, arms crossed and emerald eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Be serious for a moment." He muttered, irritation lacing his tone. "You usually don't give a damn about anything outside of numbers and spreadsheets."

The second year leans forward to reach out and grab a custard. "Frankly, I'm not used to having friends," he admitted, voice light yet oddly matter-of-fact. "I have no idea how to act like one." His tone was casual, yet there was something unsettling in how easily he said it, as if it was just another statistic in a ledger.

He possessed a remarkable ability to feign interest and empathy, skillfully navigating social interactions by engaging with others through their emotions. However, the prospect of deepening these bonds— learning each other's habits, likes, and dislikes, and investing effort to maintain friendships —strikes him as unbearably tedious.

He understands the concept of friendship but remains disinterested in its practical application. To him, people are transient, their faces ever-changing, making it a wonder how he even manages to remember their names. Yumeo's glare faltered, the sharpness in his eyes dulling with something unreadable.

Shousuke took a bite of the pastry before continuing, "However," the lightness returning to his voice, "I think a friend would want their friend to be happy with someone they know will make them happy. Right?"

He looked up at Yumeo then, sapphire eyes glimmering with a rare hint of uncertainty, the facade dropping for only just a moment before it fades into nonchalance and boredom, as if it wasn't there in the first place.

Yumeo's let out a scoff, eyes flicking to the side. "Idiot," he muttered, the words coming out softer than intended. "You could at least try not to sound so pathetic when you say stuff like that."

Shousuke chuckled, a warm and unguarded sound that seemed to catch Yumeo off guard. "Is that a yes or a no?" he teased, tilting his head before eating the custard.

"It's a 'shut up,'" Yumeo snapped, though the bite in his voice lacked its usual venom. After a beat, he cleared his throat, the tips of his ears suspiciously pink. "But... yeah. That's what a friend would want."

Shousuke blinked, surprise flickering briefly in his eyes before a small, genuine smile curved his lips. "Good to know," he murmured, tone soft and almost grateful.

The vice president rolled his eyes, cheeks still faintly red as he turned away with a huff. "Whatever," he grumbled, raising a hand to call for the bill and request to put the uneaten pastries into containers, his brows knit together as his gaze shifts to Shousuke with a puzzled expression.

His eyes narrow slightly, raising a brow "Wait," the confusion was evident in his tone, "does that mean you won't allow me to be with anyone you don't recognize?"

Shousuke suppresses a yawn, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes half-lidded with boredom. "Yeah," he replies with a lazy drawl, as if the matter barely warrants his attention. Unbothered by the vice president's incredulous stare, he rises smoothly from his seat, sliding his hands into his pockets. Without a backward glance, he strides toward the exit, his footsteps unhurried but decisive. His kouhai, carrying two plastic bags, trails after him obediently, the soft echo of their steps filling the sudden quiet of the room.

Yumeo glanced at Shousuke, curiosity piqued. "Where to?" he inquired, knowing that the secretary does not want to return home just yet.

Shousuke's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Arcade down the street," he declared. "They've installed a laser tag room, and I want to see kids cry." A snicker escaped his lips, the thought of childrens' anticipated tears amusing him.

Yumeo rolled his eyes, exhaling a resigned sigh. "You're so childish," he retorted, yet found himself trailing behind his senpai once more.

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