The kingdom was rotting from the inside out. Its streets were paved with the bones of the poor, its markets silent with hunger, its people bowed beneath the weight of a crown they would never touch. The royal family thrived on gold and luxury, their feasts echoing through the starving alleys like mockery. Chuuya Nakahara had grown up among those echoes — the stench of decay and the taste of dust were all he’d ever known.

His family was barely surviving. His mother’s hands trembled when she cooked, his father’s coughs grew deeper by the day. They weren’t dying yet, but the kingdom was making sure they would soon enough. So when a new job was announced in the palace — for anyone between fifteen and twenty — Chuuya didn’t hesitate. He didn’t care what it was. Scrubbing the floors, cleaning the stables, being yelled at by royals — anything was better than watching his family starve.

The notice had said the job was “demanding” and “not for the weak.” Most of the townsfolk didn’t bother applying. They muttered about cursed work and the king’s cruelty. Chuuya, though, had always been stubborn. He didn’t believe in curses — just power and the people who abused it. If the royal family wanted another servant, he’d take their coin, no matter how dirty.

But when Chuuya was brought to the palace and told what his role would actually be, the world seemed to still. He was made to swear on his life — and his family’s — that he would never breathe a word of what he learned within those marble walls. Not to a soul. Then they told him the truth:

The prince — the one who was destined to rule them all, the one whose name was whispered with both envy and hate — was blind.

Completely.

The king and queen had hidden it from the entire kingdom. They couldn’t afford for anyone to know their future ruler was sightless. They needed an heir who appeared perfect — powerful, untouchable — not someone they saw as a flaw in the bloodline.

That was where Chuuya came in.

The position he’d taken wasn’t for a guard or a cleaner. It was to watch the prince. To stay by his side at all times, help him move, eat, dress, and learn to live as if he could still see. A shadow who would follow him day and night, never leaving the palace, never resting. The pay was high — higher than any servant could dream of — but the cost was freedom.

Chuuya should’ve felt anger, disgust even. Helping a royal — the very kind of person who’d destroyed his people — felt like betrayal. But when he stood in that grand, silent hall and the door opened, revealing the prince for the first time… he froze.

Dazai Osamu didn’t look like the monster Chuuya had imagined.

He was young — around Chuuya’s age — with messy dark hair that brushed over pale skin. His eyes, though clouded, carried something sharp beneath the stillness, like he could see in ways others couldn’t. There was no arrogance in his expression, no smugness. Just calm. Maybe even loneliness.

In that moment, Chuuya’s hatred faltered.

Maybe the prince didn’t know what was happening outside the palace walls. Maybe he’d been locked away, blinded not just by fate but by lies.

Chuuya didn’t know yet. But one thing was certain — he was going to find out.