Chapter Text
Shane
The Grand Prince Consort of Japan, Jin, stared in disdain at the men chasing after a monochromatic ball. He was on his third glass of sencha-liquer, one of many tea-infused alcohols for his exclusive consumption - though even the jovial second movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, and the buzz of the alcohol, did not seem to put the second-highest ranked man in Japan in a good mood. From the private suite where the Imperial Family of Japan watched the World Cup match in the Stade de France, the internal atmosphere was completely disjointed from the surrounding roar of the crowds.
“When does this end?” Grand Prince Jin said as he inspected the charcuterie board held by a servant before pointing at a few slices of meat to be plated for him.
“Responding to Your Imperial Highness, there is still another 30 minutes left before the conclusion of this match.” The Minister of the Imperial Household replied --like everyone else who was not of the Imperial Family, he stood, posture perfect.
Grand Prince Jin scowled before downing another glass of liquor. And then, the room burst into rancorous applause as a goal was scored. The Grand Prince stared in horror as his wife, the Empress Regnant of Japan, Shoken, tapped at her iPad so that the soundproofing of the suite was disabled and they would hear the sound of the crowd.
“That was amazing!” The 26-year old ruler of Japan cheered. Her husband evidently did not agree as he frowned harder and ordered more tea-liquer, perhaps a sakura-based gin infusion with gold flakes.
“Oh! Can I get them to sign my jersey? Oh, maybe we could get a photo rogether?” The empress said excitedly.
“Your Imperial Majesty must not!” The minister and Grand Prince shouted at the same time. The Grand Prince continued, “ it would efface the imperial dignity should Her Imperial Majesty show such interest in… commercial sports.”
“But… I am a fan.” The Empress said, much to her husband's horror.
He visibly recoiled as he stood up. “ The Heavenly Sovereign cannot be a fan of… any of this.”
And then, the Prince-consort turned towards Shane, who had been observing the soccer match like an anthropologist.
“As a cadet-branch Prince, you will procure the autographs that Her Majesty desires.” He instructed.
Shane balked. “But Grand Prince, I don't know anything about soccer. Or sports.”
The Grand Prince nodded in approval, “Exactly why I chose you to accompany us on this… expedition. You will represent the Empress and communicate with the … whatever team… about the kind words that the Empress has for them.”
Shane bowed. “ I live to serve the Empress. Shall I leave now, Imperial Highness?”
“No, Shane, you can find them after the match ends. Come, come, drink some champagne and let me show you who's my favourite on the German team!” The Empress said, waving him over as she began to introduce the various members of the German team and Shane forced himself to remember their names, positions, and what the Empress wanted them to sign.
By the end of the match, which Germany won, Shane still did not manage to remember any member of the German team. Shane was aware that it was his lack of sports knowledge that led to the Grand Prince choosing Shane to accompany the Imperial couple for this match. Like the Grand Prince, he was a historian by training - it was perhaps because he was a history major that the Grand Prince had allowed his family to reclaim their status as a cadet branch of the Imperial family upon the restoration of the absolute monarchy in Japan in 2021. Shane had always liked history, well, he liked it because it helped him connect with his roots - as messy as they were. His father was a minor Dutch noble, his mother was a Japanese commoner (though currently, she was, Her Imperial Highness, Princess Yuna, of the second cadet branch). History helped him to connect himself with people, with culture, with himself - Shane had long struggled with connecting with people but history helped him feel that there was something bigger that bound people together, a sense of belonging to a culture whose people he never quite fit into.
It was probably unsurprising that Shane went to pursue history in Cambridge, a degree that would change his life because Shane's history degree literally made him become a prince. After the transition to absolute monarchy in 2021, in the wake of the pandemic, Grand Prince Jin sought to restructure Japanese society and decided to restore the cadet branches, given the conspicuous lack of Imperial heirs. It turned out that Shane's mother was descended from a cadet branch of the Imperial family and as the Grand Prince reviewed the genealogical tables, he saw that Shane was a historian, and decided to interview him: Somehow, Shane managed to pass the interview and it was decided by Imperial decree that a cadet branch, under Yuna Hollander, would be created. Currently, Shane was 24th in line to the Chrysanthemum throne, which was infinitely closer than he should have been before the Imperial Restoration of 2021.
And so, Shane became a regular at the Imperial Court for the Prince-Consort’s summons. Shane frankly did not know why someone who had a PhD in History would find talking to him insightful, but he had long learnt that asking questions at court did not bode well for one’s stability. And so, when Shane was chosen to accompany the Imperial Couple to watch the World Cup, he didn't question it either. He knew that it was because the Grand Prince wanted Shane to accompany him to visit the palaces of France, and probably to entertain him whilst the Empress continued to cheer for soccer teams that he couldn't recognise. Having Shane along probably made the lie that this trip was meant to encourage comparative historical research between France and Japan more believable, since the Imperial Court refused to allow the essence of the visit being that the Empress of Japan was a soccer fan. Shane was a marginal member of the Imperial family, he managed the Imperial Court archives and was genuinely considered by the Japanese public as an awkward and anti-social member of the ruling family (which, to an extent, he was).
And so, with his bodyguards Yuta and Shinji, armed with jerseys and other memorabilia, Shane found himself lost in the labyrinthine interior of the Stade de France. The Imperial family was given an all-access pass that would allow them to unlock any door in the stadium – a pass that led the Grand Prince to believe that Shane didn't need any help to find the German soccer team. The Imperial Court believed that it was more appropriate for Shane, as a cadet branch prince, to wander around the stadium, than it was for an escort to be briefed by the Empress on whose autograph she wanted. And so, Shane found himself walking through endless corridors until he collided into a wall of solid, male muscle.
Ilya
Ilya Rozanov was having a very bad day. He had lost to the German team. Badly. Sure, the Germans were good and his team didn't perform that poorly (by American standards), but any loss still stung because he could hear his father's voice calling him useless, stupid, lazy.
Perhaps it was this episode of rumination that led Ilya to wander around the stadium after the match had ended, and his team captain had taken press duties. Ilya's head was down as he thought about how he could have been a better goalie. He thought about every flaw, every missed opportunity to be better, to secure a goal, when he bumped into someone and was suddenly flipped and pressed onto a wall. He heard someone shouting, well multiple voices, but he couldn't turn to see who it belonged to. Ilya didn't recognise the language. Was it Chinese? There were multiple voices, a harsh militant one, and a smoother one, soft and warm.
Suddenly, Ilya was released, and he turned around shakily. He wanted to say something but he wasn't sure if they understood English, and also, he was staring down the barrel of a pistol. Years in America taught Ilya that the best thing to do now was to raise his arms slowly and hope that help would come.
The soft, warm voice came again, and the gun was slowly lowered.
“Sorry about that.” The owner of the voice said, in English, with a slight accent that Ilya couldn't place. Ilya turned to look him in the eye and found himself looking at the most beautiful boy he had ever seen. His eyes were a warm chocolate, his hair neat and black, and his cheeks were smooth and freckled. God, his freckles…. How many were there? Ilya started to count when the man spoke again.
“Are you okay?” He asked, and Ilya remembered that he just had a gun pointed at him.
“Yeah.” Ilya said. “ Who are you? This is a restricted area.”
The three men were wearing suits, the beautiful boy was a pale yellow, while his two bodyguards/mercenaries were in all black.
One of the men in black said, in accented English, “This is His Imperial Highness, Prince Arisugawa. And who are you?”
Ilya's mind blanked for a second - Prince? He didn't know that a Prince was watching. Now Ilya wasn't very good at geopolitics but he was decently certain that China didn't have princes… so they weren't speaking Chinese.
The man repeated the question, firmly, pulling out his gun again. Ilya's mind blanked – nothing came out of his mouth, and then the Prince placed his hand on the gun and said something. The gun was holstered.
“Sorry, I'm Shane,” the prince said, his face flushed, framing his freckles in a pretty pink. “ These are my bodyguards, Yuta and Shinji. I'm guessing you’re a player? I think I saw you play… American?”
“Yes,” Ilya said, mouth dry. “Ilya Rozanov, goalie for the American team. I'm sorry but who are you? This is a restricted area.”
Ilya didn't know if it was wise to question people with guns but he found himself unable to think rationally, on account of said guns being used to threaten him – twice.
“Yes, sorry, I'm Shane, Prince Arisugawa. I'm part of the Japanese Imperial family.” He added, at Ilya's blank expression when Shane said his title.
“Japanese Imperial family?” Ilya said. He was pretty sure he would know if the Japanese royal family was watching… wait he did hear that there were some VVIPs watching but… no way.
Suddenly, there were shouts from down the corridor. Ilya turned to watch as a crowd of officials clamoured towards them before bowing at Shane. Oh, Ilya thought, he's really a prince.
“Your Imperial Highness! Thank goodness we've found you.” One of the officials said, after bowing. Another spoke to Shane in Japanese, and another turned to Ilya – he was from the American team.
“Mr Rozanov, how did you find the Prince?” The man, which Ilya recalled was called Mark, asked.
“I bumped into him.” Ilya explained with a shrug. “He's really a Prince?”
“Yes, this is a prince of Japan and he was watching the world cup and wanted to meet the German team.” And then Mark whisper-shouted, “ you better not have insulted the prince.”
“I didn't. If anything, he threatened me!” Ilya said indignantly. He was clearly the victim here, why was everyone concerned about Prince Shane, who seemed more distressed by the attention that when Ilya knocked into him – or rather when Prince Shane crashed into Ilya. And then, Prince Shane, surrounded by his bodyguards and officials was escorted to somewhere else while Mark, who was the head of the American team’s PR, escorted Ilya away and told him that this entire incident was to be kept under wraps and that he would receive many NDAs about it.
Ilya huffed as he walked off, the image of the prince's freckles in his mind as he was berated for something that was completely not his fault. Stupid prince!