The smell of baked bread and burnt coffee filled the dining hall.
Sunlight spilled weakly across the long stone tables,
painting gold over broken chairs and frostbitten flags.
For a moment
for a few fragile heartbeats
it almost felt normal.
Shu pushed a crust of bread across his plate with one finger,
watching the others fall apart with laughter three seats down.
Zac was trying to balance three apples on his head while Valt threw breadcrumbs at him.
Ken was threatening to "burn the Hall down" if they didn't stop.
Daigo just shook his head — a tiny, rare smirk flickering across his mouth.
Normal.
Shu smiled faintly and tore off a piece of bread.
His hands trembled once —
the fire snarling under his skin like a chained beast.
He pressed his palms flat against the cold stone table.
Forced his breathing slow.
Steady.
No fire.
No mistakes.
Across the hall, Free leaned back in his chair —
arms crossed, golden eyes heavy.
Watching.
Lui slouched in the shadows of a broken pillar —
his violet gaze sharp, restless, tracking every breath Shu took.
Shu tried not to flinch under it.
Tried to pretend he didn't notice.
Tried to pretend he wasn't cracking apart.
(Shu's Inner Thoughts)
Breathe.
Laugh when they laugh.
Smile when they smile.
Valt leaned across the table, grinning.
"Come on, Shu. Lighten up. You look like someone killed your horse."
Shu huffed a soft laugh —
almost real.
"I don't have a horse," he said.
Valt slapped his back hard enough to rattle his ribs.
"That's your problem!"
Zac whooped across the hall —
managing to get two apples balanced before Ken winged a spoon at his head.
The laughter rose again — bright, chaotic, blinding.
Shu smiled.
Smiled so hard his jaw ached.
And under the table
his hands burned faintly against the stone.
Just a flicker.
Just a whisper.
He yanked them back before anyone could see.
Fisted them in his coat.
Pressed them against his thighs hard enough to bruise.
No fire.
No mistakes.
But Free's gaze sharpened.
Lui's fingers curled tighter around the hilt of his practice sword.
They saw.
Maybe not the fire.
Maybe not yet.
But they saw the way Shu moved like someone holding a bomb against his ribs.
The way his shoulders tightened every time someone laughed too loud.
The way he kept glancing at the door
at the exits
at the sky.
YOU ARE READING
Ashes and Thrones
FantasyThere were twelve kingdoms once. Eleven with heirs born of power. One with a prince born of silence. Shu Kurenai has never been weak - but that's what they call him. They don't know about the whispers in the dark. The ones only he hears. The things...
