(Medieval type AU. Fushiguro is a royal, you're not. All that.)
The palms of your hands hang on tightly to the shingles, hauling yourself up onto the next highest roof with a grunt of effort. You stand, taking a step away from the edge and brushing your hands on your pants to rid them of the dirt. Glancing at your surroundings, you take in the already fantastic view you have of the town. There were only two more ledges, and you'd make it to the top of the castle.
This escapade was one you made spontaneously, deciding that you wanted to spend your night from the tallest point in town. Maybe it was just you testing yourself on your own capabilities, getting past the outer gates was hard enough.
You catch your breath, hands on your hips as you pace back and forth to get your bearings. Then, you feel your toe hit something dead on, and instead of tripping, the thing you kicked goes tumbling off the roof.
Your hands fly to your mouth, and you jump when you hear a loud crash sounding into the peaceful late afternoon air. You creak forward to lean over the ledge, snorting into your fingers as you see a decimated gargoyle laying on the cobblestone path at least four stories down.
"Who are you?" A voice inquires from behind you, and you spin on your heel to come eye to eye with a young man leaning out of the window.
You didn't even notice there was a window on that particular ledge, and you mentally kick yourself for not pushing along to the next section.
"I'm- uh," you stall, trying to come up with something that doesn't sound like you're going to try and kill the royal family. Which you're not, but subtext is a tricky thing. "My friend dared me to climb to the top. Of the castle."
He stays silent at the confession, eyes narrowing as he takes in your wary smile.
Meanwhile, your own mind is going up in flames; Why did you specify the castle, you fuckwit, it's obvious that it was the castle. Why is he just sitting there? Did he call for the guards and is stalling? It's not like you can go down, and going up won't fix anything. God fucking dammit you're going to die via the hands of rich folk.
"Calm down, I'm not going to tell anyone," he says next, effectively shutting down your inner monologue that was a little too akin to a flock of birds scrabbling over a loose carrot.
"Oh yes," you smirk, bowing a little in his direction. "Thanks for telling my mind what to do for me, for I truly have no control over it myself. What, being a peasant and all."
"I didn't-"
"And also, my good sir, how can I be expected to believe you when all of your type tends to stray a bit on the superstitious side. You don't trust me, I don't trust you," you say, squatting in front of the man so you could speak eye to eye.
"If you would let me get a word in I would-"
"And wow, being this close up to you I can see the distrust already. Think I'm gonna pee in your fine wine? Lick your expensive satin sheets?"
The words come quickly out of your mouth, giving you time to take in the others appearance while he's focused (and probably appalled) by your dialect.
He has messy hair, dark and silky like you'd expect from someone living here, but spiky in a free way, almost uncared for. His eyes were the same, soft around the edges and layered with dark and saturated lashes, but plagued with sharp irises that darted around and caught on things for barely any time at all.
The rest of his face was just about the same, a soft and maintained appearance being cut through with a personality that is so much different. It's interesting, but you know how people like him end up. He'll be just like the rest of them.
You finish up your spiel, interested in finally letting him talk. Maybe he'd suprise you. Also, maybe he did call the guards on you and you'll have to be sprinting any moment. You're prepared for both.
"You can pee in my wine, it would give me an excuse not to drink it," he mutters, staring offhandedly over your shoulder as you blink at him.
Okay, you weren't prepared for anything.
"Maybe my pee would make it taste better," you reply, rocking back on your heels and pursing your lips.
This gets him to look back to you, a blank expression befalling him, "I don't care who you are, your pee will not make anything better. And, why are we still on the topic of pee in the first place?"
"You made it into a thing."
"Well you brought it up in your weird sprout of insults."
"Those were completely justified, and just to make sure, will I be running from your faithful servants in the next few minutes?"
"No. They are unaware of this commotion... Well besides that loud crash," he cringes a bit, and you grimance. "You better keep going."
You stare at him, suprised. Even if he didn't tell on you, you assumed he'd still want you off the property. In a fit of confusion, you can't stop the next few words from tumbling out of your mouth.
"Do you want to come with me?"
Your jaw shuts with an audible click immediately after the words escape, and you try to appear nonchalant as he takes his time to think.
"What is there to do up there? Seems almost pointless," he crosses his arms on the windowsill, and you realize that he's asking for you to convince him. Which, you were not planning to do.
So you don't.
"It is pointless. You don't have to come, I'll just-" You motion with your thumb to the next ledge, turning away from him with finality. But as soon as you turn, you hear a muffled string of profanities and he's pulling himself through the window.
You raise an eyebrow at him with a smile, and he scowls at you, tugging the window mostly closed behind him. "I'm just bored," he says.
"Uhuh," you step up to him, both of you finally brought to your full heights. You stick your hand out for him to shake. "I haven't introduced myself. Y/N."
He grabs your hand, albiet hesitantly. "Megumi Fushiguro."
You laugh, dropping his hand and running your own down your face with amusment.
He stares at you, clearly lost.
"Just of- of course you're the prince. I thought you'd just maybe be a snob from another kingdom or a knight, but wow," you wheeze, clapping his bicep in a friendly matter.
"I thought you knew who I was from the start, or at least that you'd be ashamed when finding out?"
"Oh no, sweetheart, I just have little to no self respect when it comes to decency, I'd speak that way with anyone I meet, doesn't matter their status."
"That could get you killed," he deadpans, and you quirk an eyebrow.
"Well now I have you to protect me, big boy. Just use your status and I'm steamrolling through insults like a drunk joker," you downright cackle at his "warning", turning back around to face the ledge again and clapping your hands together. "Thanks for the warning though, definitely haven't already learned that lesson the hard way."
He frowns at that, but you don't see it.
You expect to never see Fushiguro again after that night. You both had settled down on the roof, you pointing out different stars and him spouting knowledge on them that had been in one of his many lessons.
It was nice. You appreciated the company, and simply just having someone to talk to. He wasn't relatable by any means, but it was actually nice to get such a different point of view. To hear his struggles, to see the less desirable things that go on behind the curtains.
You told him that you climbed the castle because you wanted something new, and he said that he was glad you did.
But that's all it was. It was something new, something that you rocked his straight laced world with. He didn't seem the type to look for more of something that made him happy, he looked content with what he had. Not too happy and not too sad.
So when it becomes public news that the crowned prince is taking a stroll around the village, your jaw drops. Fushiguro almost never comes to the village, definitely not without one of his parents, but suddenly, only a few days after you meet him, he comes prancing by just for kicks? You don't buy it.
So, you follow the crowd that's excitedly following the prince. His head is sternly over the crowd, and bouncing ever so slightly due to his horse.
Unlike that night, he's dressed in finer linens that are made for appearances alone, his crown sitting precariously on his wild hair. It almost makes you laugh, but you hold back, jogging up so you walk more to his side.
His eyes are glancing about in their normal shifty way, trying to account for everything happening around him. Then they land on you, and you can tell, because he cuffs his gloved hand over his bicep, the way you'd done before.
His hand drops and his expression grows scared, however, when he sees the look on your face. There's a smile, reeking mischief plastered to your features, brows raised high.
He slowly shakes his head in disbelief as you start running toward him, breaking through the crowd and hooking your foot into the support on the horses side, swinging up onto its back. The guards all start to grab for you, but you wrap your arms around Fushiguro's waist, and lean into his ear.
"This is when you protect me, big boy," you whisper, your quiet voice somehow drowning out the yells of citizens.
And just like that, you're off.
You laugh unabashedly into the air, whooping as the hair hits your face and flutters through your clothes. You think at some point you can also hear Fushiguro's laugh against your ears, but you can't be too sure.
His horse slows as you make it out of the village, all that's before you being open land and bouts of trees here and there. It's pretty, you think, still catching your breath and unraveling your arms from around the prince.
"Are you insane?" He says once he reigns the horse, hopping off and glaring at you. You swing your legs around to one side, sticking your tounge out instead of replying. He rolls his eyes, stepping to the side so you can hop off next to him.
You smile widely, spinning around and fully taking in the expanse of green. Fushiguro watches as you smile softly to yourself, becoming more mellow without the eyes of the crowd. He shakes his head to rid himself of his thoughts, tethering his horse quickly.
Then he steps up next to you, watching you closely as your eyes shift.
"Where did you come from?" He asks. Maybe it's insensitive, but you don't seem to mind. You've asked way worse.
"I've always been here. Born and raised," you turn to give him a once over. "Lots of different people can live in the same place."
"I just didn't expect someone as- like you to be here."
That's not what you expect him to say, and you consider him more thoughtfully, gaze resting on the red of his cheeks. He's blushing.
"I'd say that nobody did, not really. I'm different, but not in the way people are fond of. They can only handle so much difference, I guess."
"I'm fond of it," he states matter of factly, "and it's my job to make sure people don't bother you about it, right?"
You snort, reaching up and grabbing the crown off
his head, placing it on your own and ruffling his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, it seems so."
(I was high writing this. Well I'm still high. Semantics.)