The lost Prince

Chapter 5

Although Ryutaro was a shy and silent boy, in his head it was never silent. He heard people walking on the wooden floor above him, the electric light bulbs outside the corridor buzzing, voices from the street outside reaching his window, Tadashi skimming through documents in Akira's office next door.... all that were stimuli which he had no control over and came into his head unfiltered all the time, all at once. For Taro realizing that, it was normal. For normal raised people, strange. But he never talked about it. As long as he could work in his office alone, Taro was happy. The only peaceful time he knew was when he sat in Kentaro's garden and drew.

A sudden gust of wind closed the door of the office next to them loudly shut and Taro jolted with the pen in his right hand. He hit the ink pot and the black ink soaked his half written document almost completely. He stared impassively at the black ink spot getting bigger and bigger and how the puddle devoured his words, letters, one by one, leaving strange shapes on the paper and table. The ink threatened to drop down onto his lap and floor... that was when Tadashi stormed inside and stopped the puddle with his handkerchief. He dipped his white handkerchief into the black liquid and Taro was fascinated by the pattern, he watched him do so motionless.

"It's okay," Tadashi said, "mistakes do happen. There is nothing that can't be replaced." After a few weeks now, Tadashi had realized that Taro was different, in every aspect, so he tried to soothe him. And because the boy was quiet and insecure, kind people tend to want to take care of Taro. The other half? Was making fun of him. But nevertheless, Tadashi never treated him like a child.

"I will help you to clean your desk." Tadashi continued. "Sit over there." Tadashi pointed to a spot next to Taro's desk and the boy finally lay is pen down and moved with his chair over to the spot where Tadashi had pointed to. For outsiders, his behavior would have seemed strange. Why the obviously lower ranked copyist didn't make a move to clean up his own mess but the truth was that the situation was new and so unusual, that Taro was frozen and didn't know how to act.
The people he worked closely with, knew that.

Tadashi left the office and came back with a wet cloth to clean the desk. He looked aside at Taro who simply observed him and the blond man smiled at him. "You have never spilled ink before?"

"No." Taro said.

"Then you are a most gifted copyist. During my studies, I spilled ink all the time."

Taro smiled because Tadashi always found the right words, which were of such a kindness that it was never too close but quite right.
When Tadashi was done with the table, he took a second cloth and stepped closer to Taro. There he knelt down and took Taro's hands into his. Carefully, he wiped the petite white hands dry which were partially spotted in ink while he could feel how Taro's gaze rested on his face, after a while, Tadashi looked up. With the gaze of a scared deer, Taro looked with his almond shaped brown eyes at the handsome face of Tadashi. He loved the little mole on the blond's cheek under his left eye.
Out of the blue, Tadashi started talking loudly but more to himself. "This outside world must be very stressful for you. All these people who are looking at you, the noises..." In response. Taro nodded silently. "What is it that you do for fun? Is there a thing that you like to do?"
To think about a correct answer, Taro broke the short eye contact and his gaze got lost in the room. "I love to draw."

"That's lovely, what do you draw?"

"Nature. Flowers mostly."

"Which one is your favorite flower?"

"There is no favorite flower, I like all of them."

"Very well." Tadashi paused while he still hold Taro's little cold hands in his. "Would you like to accompany me on my walk on Saturday afternoon?"