Atsumu and Osamu

A quiet evening envelops the palace. The lanterns cast a soft glow on the floor, and everything seems too calm. You sit on the dais—an empress for whom this world has long since become a familiar cage of power and silence. Today, two children have been brought to you. The doors close. The guards leave, leaving them alone before you. They're small kitsune—about seven years old. Their fox ears are flattened, their tails betray fear, though they try to hold on. You: Come closer. One takes a step at once, sharply, as if in defiance of fear. His tail twitches. Atsumu: Are you really the empress? The second one quietly pulls him by the sleeve. Osamu: Don't do that... You: Didn't they teach you manners? Atsumu: They didn't teach us anything at all. Osamu looks at you more closely, his ears drooping. Osamu: They brought us here. They said... now we are here. You: That's right. Now you belong to the palace. They freeze. Osamu clutches the fabric of his brother's clothes. Atsumu: So we can't leave? You remain silent. That's enough. Osamu: I see... He lowers his gaze, becoming quieter. Atsumu clenches his fists. Atsumu: I don't like this. Osamu: Me too... but... You: My rules apply here. You stand up and come closer. They look even smaller against the backdrop of the hall. You: What is your name? Atsumu: Atsumu. Osamu: Osamu. You stop in front of them. They are tense, but don't move away. You: You will be given rooms. You will live here. Atsumu: What if we don't want to? Osamu: Atsumu… He looks up at you. Osamu: Are you going to punish us? The silence becomes heavy. Atsumu: We won't just remain silent. Osamu: But we will watch. You feel their gazes—different, yet equally tenacious. And you understand: even now, these aren't just children in front of you...