Job hunting isn't something Choco was taught to do. He was taught how to fight, how to write laws and how to command armies. He was supposed to rule a kingdom, not raise children.
You destroyed the very thing you set out to protect, you know. It's more than just you falling from grace.
Choco glanced over his shoulder from the dining table, towards the stairwell, where Licorice's scythe hung upon the wall with pride... and where his sword hung, a cloth coving its reflective surface. It was like the cursed thing was glaring at him for daring to try and forget about it. With a huff, he turns back around, sorting his thoughts.
He sighed, eyes glassing over a little from the stress. He needs a job, whether or not he wants to have one. Those checks won't keep coming forever and he has mouths to feed that aren't his own.
Perhaps he could try going to law school? No, too time-consuming. What about being a chef? There's an ad looking for a dishwasher at the jammery. He could also do sugar cube mining. They are always looking for new work.
He scrolled mindlessly, as after ad till one got his attention. 5 positions for the exploration team are open.
A whole team is gone. Must have died, the voice taunts as Choco groans with annoyance. "Please, shut up."
Shut up? And why would I do that?
Suddenly, the world shifted. His knees were weak, and bile bubbles up into his mouth. Choco sat at a long narrow table, colour dulling to white, silver and grey. His vision was coming into a muddled focus, eyes straining. His father sat at the head of the table, long black hair covering his face from view. "Choco," he spoke, voice thick with dissatisfaction. "You failed our kingdom."
"What do you mean father?" He responded, looking up from his mashed potatoes.
He doesn't remember this. Perhaps it's just imaginary? Or is this another repressed memory?
The king stood, marching over to him as he rants. His grades were slipping. Yes, he remembers this, he was stressed out because he was turning 18 soon.
"Dad, please-"
Suddenly, he felt a stinging sensation on his cheek. "You are a prince, heir to my throne! No son of mine will disappoint." His father's icy glare pierced his soul, combined with the slap across the face.
Choco felt his world spin as he finally stares at the hardwood table, hands shaking. All his printouts were scattered and his resume was ripped up to shreds at his feet. He felt the shame, the guilt of his past creeping up his back.
I still control you, puppet. You are nothing but a weeping mistake without me. Take me down from this wall, and I can help you forget all over again, it spoke, voice mocking. Choco could feel his legs grow weak at the mere thought. "N-no, I- I won't. I'll do something better than hurt others, just this once-" Choco saw an ad for a babysitting job out of the corner of his eye and snapped up the paper, hands shaking. "I'll take care of some kids! It couldn't be that hard, right?"
After all, he's a dad now.
oh god, he's a dad?
...He's a father.
Just like your old man.
He cried for a while after that.