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“To be a king- To be a good king means to serve our people,” his father says as they walk slowly along the garden path before them. Their guards stand behind, but here amongst the flowerbeds Noctis can pretend they’re alone. “Do you know what that means?”
“It means to protect them!” he answers dutifully, pulling the words he remembers from his tutors, from the legends of their family. “To become their Wall against the darkness and fight it with the Crystal’s light!”
His father smiles at him, but it’s too sad to feel like a victory. It’s the one his father wears when he talks about Noct’s mother.
“Perhaps that is what it will mean one day,” he says before Noctis can wonder what that sad smile means. He catches the last remnant of it as a warm hand comes down to ruffle at his hair. “But there is another way to serve our people, Noctis. A simpler way, but just as important.”
“What is it?” Noctis asks.
“Well…”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” says the young man at her doorstep.
She had wondered who could possibly be out and knocking at her door in this rain and she was surprised to find a shivering boy in a drenched high school uniform on the other side. She’s about to scold him for being out in this downpour when there’s a soft mew from the little bundle he’s shielding against his chest and a familiar furry face pokes out from the protection of his jacket.
“Is this cat yours?”
“Oh, Lily ,” she gasps, moving to reach for her cat. The boy untangles Lily from his jacket and gently passes her over. “I was looking for you! How did you get out?”
“It’s probably the storm,” he offers. “I know animals can get touchy with thunder. Maybe Lily got spooked and pushed her way through a cracked window.” He blinks, flushing a little the way young people did when they felt out of turn. “I mean, or not. O-or something else.”
“Oh dear, you may be right,” she says, pouring comfort into her tone. He seems to relax a little. “I was cooking this afternoon and didn’t expect the turn in the weather. I should have been more careful. Thank goodness you found her!”
“It’s a good thing I heard her calling for help on my walk home,” he says, reaching up to Lily’s chin to offer a scratch that she purrs and accepts. “She was, well, sort of high up.”
“Young man,” she starts to scold. “You do not mean to tell me you climbed a tree in this weather.”
As if to emphasize her point, a flash of lightning darts across the sky with the late accompaniment of a crash of thunder.
“I was fast!” he insists, immediately. “I’m, er, a very fast tree-climber!”
She clucks an admonishment at him. “Well, I’m glad you’re both alright and I am grateful, but you ought not to pull that sort of foolishness again.”
“I won’t,” he mutters weakly, and it makes him seem so very young and so very miserable standing in the slight sprinkle of the rain.
“Oh, you poor dear!” she gasps at the realization. “Where are my manners! Come in out of that rain, will you? I’ll pour you a cup of something hot.”
“It’s alright.” He offers a shy, sheepish smile. “I should really get home.”
“Oh, you certainly should,” she agrees. “Your mother must be worried sick.”
“Yeah,” he says around a tired sigh. “Must be.”
He leaves her with a half-wave and a goodbye addressed to Lily, and she realizes too late he never introduced himself.
It’s not the worst place to deal with a dead battery in the middle of the night.
This stretch of road is safe and well lit, at least. It’s not so bad that it’s the time of night when everything is cold, empty, and closed. It’s not so bad that his phone is dead. Or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.
He’d let the last two cars pass out of paranoia and it’s nearly twenty minutes before he sees another. Panic still lurches into his throat when it starts to slow without him flagging it down. For a second, he thinks he should get back into his car, but then the passenger side window starts to roll down and it’s too late, it’s too late, it’s-
“Car trouble?” the man inside calls.
Well, a kid by the sounds of it. And by the looks of it, too, if the worn out restaurant uniform and babyface are anything to go by.
“Yeah,” he answers around a shuddering laugh. “Battery's dead.”
“Need a jump?” the kid offers.
“If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t,” he says with a little shrug. “Just, er, just give me a second.”
The car moves again and for a second he thinks the kid is going to leave, but instead he gets to witness the most hesitant of three point turns before it comes to a stop nose to nose with his. He squints at the headlights until they flicker off and he hears the kid popping the hood of the car.
The car that he realizes - now that the panic has died down and there aren’t high beams in his eyes - is really nice.
“Shit, kid,” he hisses between clattering teeth as the kid approaches with some cables. “This car is really nice .”
“Thanks,” he says, suddenly awkward. “It was a gift from my dad.”
He whistles. “Some gift! Kinda risky, pulling over in a car like that.”
The kid raises an eyebrow at him even though he gets to work anyway. “You gonna rob me?”
He laughs. “I’d be a real asshole to do that. I mean look at you!” He gestures to the kid’s uniform. “Fresh off the night shift, burning the midnight oil trying to pay the old man back for this car, huh?”
“It’s not that,” the kid mumbles, so quiet he almost doesn’t hear. “He wouldn’t ask me to pay him back.”
“That’s nice. My dad was a real hardass,” he snorts. “So what, got the job for pocket money?”
The kid hesitates for a thoughtful second before handing him the wires with a small smile. “Kinda. It’s just nice having something for yourself, you know?”
The kid doesn’t give him a chance to answer before he’s heading back into his nice car.
It’s not that long of a wait until he prays once more for his engine to start and the gods and his good bystander come through. The kid accepts his thanks and a handshake with tired awkwardness and they’re both on their way before the thought crosses his mind that he seemed familiar somehow.
“Do you want to walk home together?” the new kid offers.
She doesn’t say no immediately even though she doesn’t know much about him other than that he’s their awkward high schooler new hire because it’s very late, she’s exhausted, and yesterday - as she’d made sure to tell everyone - some guy on her long walk home said some words about her as she passed.
“Didn’t you go in the other direction?” she says instead.
He shrugs. “I was running errands.”
“Sure,” she says, drawing out the syllable. She spends a moment weighing the cost and benefits before she decides that this is better than the alternative of enduring the walk alone and answers him with, “Well, whatever.”
She doesn’t say anything as they start towards her house together and he’s on his phone instead of trying to make small talk, which is all fine with her. She’s content to let them walk in silence for a few blocks until he makes a quiet, displeased noise at his phone and she can’t help but feel curious.
“Someone breaking up with you?” she teases.
“No,” he says with a good-natured laugh. “No. Just getting an earful about curfew, is all.”
“Parents?” She remembers being a kid with curfews and rules and texts about both those things.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean, I’m sure my dad would like it if I was home this time of night, but he lets me do what I want. It’s more his…coworkers?”
“His coworkers,” she deadpans. “Are busting your ass?”
“Oh yeah,” the kid answers with the emphasis of someone who’s been annoyed by something for a while. “The Counc- er, coworkers have got a lot of opinions when it comes to how I’m being raised.”
She stares at him for a moment. “You sure have a weird home life, kid.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Your dad, though,” she starts, curious again about this weird kid. “He’s cool?”
“Yeah, he’s cool,” he answers, surprisingly earnest for his age. She remembers being young and bitter about her parents, but he only seems thoughtful. She guesses whatever complicated arrangement has him facing his dad’s coworkers about his curfew warrants that. “He’s busy, but he tries.”
“Sounds like he could get his coworkers to ease off, though.”
He laughs. “I’m not sure that’s up to him.”
She stops as they pass her building and gives the kid a wave goodbye and a See you tomorrow before stepping inside. Through the glass of her front door, she sees him going back the way he came and shakes her head.
She means to send him a thank you text to make sure he got home safe but realizes she’d forgotten to get even his name.
“...there is another way to serve our people, Noctis. A simpler way, but just as important.”
“What is it?”
And there is a smile, gentle and warm and full of kindness.
“Well, you can start by being a good person first. Be a good person, even when the world isn’t watching. Be a good person, Noctis, and becoming a good king will come easily.”
“Be a good person,” he repeats. Like you, he doesn’t say. “Got it.”