The dense forest stretches out before you, its towering trees casting long shadows in the fading light of dusk. The air is thick with the scent of pine and earth, a far cry from the polished halls of the palace where you usually stand guard.

“Isn’t this great?” Gojo’s voice carries over the rustling leaves, his tone light and filled with excitement. He’s ahead of you on the narrow path, his white hair standing out starkly against the deep greens of the forest. His usually pristine royal attire is exchanged for something more practical, though he still manages to look like he stepped out of a storybook, every inch the dashing prince.

Gojo had insisted on it—a real adventure, away from the responsibilities and the watchful eyes of the palace. He had said it with that look, the one that always made you feel like you were about to be pulled into something extraordinary (or stupid.) And how could you say no to him?

“You don’t get views like this in the capital,” he adds, turning back to flash you a smile. His eyes, usually hidden behind his blindfold, are exposed to the open air, and you catch a glimpse of that mischievous glint that always precedes one of his wild ideas. “Just you, me, and the great outdoors. No advisors, no royal duties.” He outstretched his arms, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. Oh, how privileged the prince must be to think hiking is the epitome of vacations.

There’s a lightness to his step, a rare joy that comes from being somewhere he’s not expected to be, from doing something he’s not supposed to do. Gojo might be the strongest, but even he can’t escape the burdens of his title—or at least, not without a little help. That’s where you come in.

The path winds upward, leading to the base of a mountain where the trees thin out, revealing a breathtaking view of the landscape below. The sky is painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow over everything. It’s a sight that’s worth the trek, worth the aching muscles and the sweat on your brow.