Based on the War of the Roses setting from The Duelists of the Roses — found bleeding on a battlefield by an enemy commander who won't give his name, Henry Yugi Tudor is saved, sheltered, and eventually sent back, all without either of them speaking the words that would make them enemies for certain.
A story of a prince and a dragon commander who meet, part, and meet again, across a war neither of them can stop, and a bond neither of them can name away.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: その名をまだ知らない
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor₋yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
Blood was flowing more quietly than expected.
Henry Yugi Tudor leaned back against a fallen stone pillar, pressing a hand to his own side.
Something warm seeped slowly through the gaps between his fingers.
Not a fatal wound. Probably.
"...Shallow, then."
He murmured it, as if to convince himself.
The wound was shallow. The blade must have only grazed him, not driven in deep.
Still, something was off. The area around the wound was hot.
The cloth he'd wrapped to stop the bleeding was already heavy and damp.
Beyond that, something felt wrong. A strange sense that something was spreading, deep beneath his skin.
That was when it happened.
Sensing a presence, Yugi lifted his face.
Something emerged from the shadows between the trees. No heavy footsteps of armor.
But its presence alone marked it as something out of the ordinary.
What appeared beneath the moonlight was a dragon.
That was how it looked. No — dragon armor.
A white dragon motif flowed from the shoulder down across the back.
An enemy — that much was clear at a glance. And not just any enemy.
Yugi's throat moved, without meaning to.
"Rose—"
"Don't say it."
The voice was low, sharp. The word was cut off.
The man walked slowly closer. But there was no hesitation in his stride.
And then he looked down at Yugi. The eyes beneath his forelock weren't clearly visible.
"You don't know me."
A quiet voice.
"And I won't ask who you are."
Strange words. On a battlefield, no one failed to ask a name.
And yet he genuinely seemed uninterested.
He only watched to see whether Yugi would live, or die. Nothing more.
The man's hand moved. A small vial was held out. Clear glass, a pale liquid inside.
"...What is it?"
Yugi asked.
"Die here... or drink. Choose."
At the words, spoken so easily, Yugi looked at the vial. Suspicious. Far too suspicious. There was no reason for an enemy to hand over something like medicine without cause.
"...Poison?"
The question was half a joke.
"Poison. ...If that wound came from a white rose blade, the poison will spread soon enough."
Yugi's fingertips stilled, faintly. The man went on.
"That's the antidote."
No emotion showed at all. As if he were simply stating fact, flatly.
"Whether you believe it is your own concern."
Adding only that, the man didn't move. He only stood there, watching.
Yugi took the vial. The cold touch of glass.
Drinking this might mean living, or it might mean poison.
Either way, he wouldn't last long as he was. The man could have simply cut him down instead.
Yugi looked up at him.
"...Why. To an enemy, something like this..."
Silence.
After a moment, the man said,
"Whether I'm your enemy... is for you to decide."
That wasn't an answer.
Yugi looked at the vial. Then he pulled the stopper and let the liquid touch his lips. Bitter, but he swallowed it.
At that instant, the man's shoulders seemed to drop, just slightly.
Maybe it was only his imagination. Yugi let out a breath.
"...If that was poison... then I'll see you off myself, when the time comes."
Beneath the moon, the dragon armor didn't stir, not even slightly.
That night.
The prince of the red rose met, for the first time, a white rose who hadn't killed him.
The heat receded. In its place came a sensation like being pulled down into deep water.
Yugi looked at the man once more.
The dragon armor. The moonlight. The unmoving shadow. That was the last thing he saw before his vision sank into darkness.
The first thing he felt on waking was warmth and softness.
Not stone, not earth either. What lay beneath his back was the feel of a proper bed, and above, a ceiling. An unfamiliar pattern.
Yugi's awareness surfaced all at once.
"...!"
Trying to sit up, he noticed the discomfort at his side.
There was almost no pain, but a dull heaviness remained.
The wound had been properly bandaged, and the bleeding seemed to have stopped.
Yugi looked around. A narrow room, stone walls, a small window set high, letting in little light from outside.
The last thing his eyes landed on was a crest hung on the wall.
A white rose.
Yugi's throat gave a faint sound.
"...A white rose... fortress?"
It didn't take long to understand that he'd been captured.
That man.
He'd given him the antidote, put him to sleep, and carried him here.
Deceived. No — of course he had been. The man was an enemy.
Keeping him alive — was it for interrogation, or as a warning to others?
Yugi looked at his own fingertips. They moved, but felt faintly numb still. Not fully recovered, then.
At that moment, the door opened. The sound was quiet, but he turned his face toward it, reflexively.
The one who entered was that man. No dragon armor now, but Yugi knew him at a glance.
Christian Seto Rosenkreuz. A man who wouldn't give his name.
Tall. Movements with no wasted motion. And cold blue eyes. Seto glanced over Yugi's condition.
"Awake, then."
Nothing more. No emotion showed there either. Yugi glared at Seto.
"...To make me a prisoner?"
"No."
An instant answer.
"Then..."
"The antidote —"
Seto spoke over him.
"Was a genuine antidote. The sleep was a side effect of the painkiller."
Yugi looked at his own hand.
"...It's still, a little numb..."
"Naturally. The poison hadn't fully taken hold yet. Recovery takes time."
His tone was like a physician's. But he wasn't a physician — an enemy commander.
Yugi looked at Seto.
"Why did you keep me alive."
There was no reason to save an enemy.
"Calm yourself. I won't kill you. Nor will you be tortured."
A quiet voice, but flat, with no warmth in it, no intent to reassure.
Yugi's brow furrowed.
"...Then why did you bring me here."
Seto fell briefly silent.
"I haven't decided yet."
Those words were colder than any blade.
Not to use him. Simply — undecided.
Seto turned on his heel.
Yugi called out, without meaning to.
"...What are you thinking?"
Seto stopped, but didn't turn around.
After a long silence, Seto spoke.
"That's none of your concern."
The door closed.
The sound echoed quietly. Yugi was alone. Inside a white rose fortress.
Saved by an enemy, kept alive by an enemy, and still, undecided, by an enemy.
The rumor arrived from beyond the door.
No one told him directly.
But the stone walls of this fortress were thin. The voices of soldiers passing in the corridor slipped through, unintended.
"...Seems to be true."
"That so-called 'favorite.'"
"Lord Rosenkreuz is keeping him."
Favorite.
That word snagged at him. There was no need to wonder who they meant.
No one else was confined in this room.
Yugi looked at his own arm. The bandage had thinned, the wound beginning to close.
Not fully healed yet, and it still ached if he moved it.
But the numbness in his fingertips had nearly disappeared.
I could escape now. The thought rose naturally.
Yugi waited for night. The gap when footsteps faded, between the changing of the watch.
The window was high, but not impossible.
Yugi retied his bandage, gritted his teeth, gripped the window frame, and pulled himself up.
His side ached, but he couldn't stop.
Finally, outside air touched his skin. The scent of the outdoors, after so long. Carefully climbing down the outer wall of the fortress, once his feet touched ground, Yugi ran, without looking back.
But—
"Where are you going."
A voice came from behind him, just before the gate. Yugi's body stopped.
A voice he didn't need to turn around to recognize.
No dragon armor. But even in the dark of night, that presence was unmistakable.
"...Do you have a reason to chase me."
Seto answered.
"Not none."
The distance vanished, and Seto's hand caught Yugi's arm. Not rough, but firm.
He tried to shake it off, but with his body still not fully recovered, it was useless.
"Outside... the white rose is hunting a certain man, bloodshot-eyed. Whether alive or dead makes no difference to them."
Yugi's breath stopped.
"That man... a prince of a certain country, already presumed dead."
Back then, he should have died. Now, escape was impossible.
Seto brought Yugi back.
Not carrying him, not dragging him, but making him walk alongside.
Returned to the room, the door closed. Yugi glared at Seto.
"...Why."
Why keep him alive.
Why protect him.
Why lock him away.
"I'm not protecting you."
Yugi's chest gave a faint tremor.
"Keeping you alive was... a whim."
The words that fell were far too hollow.
"My purpose isn't the war. Nor the country."
Seto's eyes were looking somewhere far off.
Yugi saw, within Seto, a certain emptiness.
"There's something I'm searching for. Once I find it, I'll leave."
Seto went on, flat.
"If I don't find it, I'll simply go somewhere else."
This fortress, this war, this country — all of it, merely a waypoint.
Seto belonged nowhere. Was tied to nothing.
And right now, Yugi was the same. Simply placed within that whim.
Seto laid a hand on the door. He didn't turn around.
"Next time, there won't be any life left to spare."
The door closed, and he was left alone.
He already understood. He wasn't a prisoner — he was being protected. For no reason, with no meaning.
Only by Seto's whim.
The wound had nearly healed.
The bandage had already been removed, leaving only a faint scar and an occasional twinge that came, as if remembering itself, from time to time.
All that could be seen from the window was the inside of the white rose fortress.
The sky was the same, and yet he couldn't go far. The red rose — the place he belonged — he had to return to it.
He kept thinking of a way.
The number of night watchmen, the structure of the gate, the height of the outer wall.
Escaping itself, he could probably manage. But once he escaped, was there a way back? At that thought, his feet stopped.
If he asked Seto about the state of the war, he told him. He didn't hide it.
"No major movement. Just skirmishes, continuing."
Seto had said that once.
Neither side winning, neither losing — a war of only continued attrition.
Every time Yugi heard it, something deep in his chest tightened.
Somewhere he wasn't, the fighting continued.
What was he even doing. Just being protected here, and nothing more.
One day.
Seto said,
"It looks like it'll be found soon."
That alone told him what he meant.
Yugi held his breath without meaning to.
"...I see."
His voice came out calmer than he expected.
"Once you find it... what will you do with me?"
Seto narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Do as you like."
At words tossed off so easily, Yugi lost what to say.
Those words were far too free. But no such freedom existed for him.
Yugi knew it. He was the prince of the red rose, and he had to return.
Return, and fight. There was no room in that for his own will.
And yet, somehow, something deep in his chest quietly stirred.
Seto said nothing more.
The words had fallen far too naturally.
"...Do you want to go back?"
For a moment, Yugi couldn't grasp the meaning.
Should he take it at face value, or —
"...I have to go back."
Seto's eyes wavered slightly, then narrowed.
"I see. ...If that's what you want... I'll send you back tomorrow night."
The air quietly drew taut.
There were countless reasons to doubt him. But there was no other way. Same as that night.
Leaving here and going back, living or dying — none of it could happen without going through Seto.
Yugi nodded, slowly.
The following night.
The fortress had fallen quiet.
Seto said nothing, and set Yugi on a horse. Then he mounted behind him. The hardness of his armor and the warmth of his living body carried through his back.
The gate opened. They left the white rose fortress. The night wind struck their cheeks.
Yugi didn't ask where they were headed. He understood without asking.
Eventually, the horse stopped.
The place where they'd first met. Blood, poison, the beginning of that choice.
Seto dismounted first and helped Yugi down.
Distance formed between them. The night was quiet. The instant he set Yugi down, Seto simply turned his back.
"If you're planning something... do it after I've gone."
A low voice. A single step forward.
"Unless you'd rather be cut down."
Whether that was a warning, or one last protection, wasn't clear.
Yugi understood: Seto meant to leave, just like this. That this was the end.
Yugi couldn't move.
He could go back to the place he had to return to. And yet, something deep in his chest ached.
Are we really parting like this, without even a name spoken between us?
Was that really alright.
No.
No, he found himself thinking.
His throat opened on its own.
"Rose—"
He called out the name he wasn't supposed to call.
The voice rang far too clearly through the night.
That instant.
It felt as if the wind had stopped. Seto's figure was already right in front of him.
"Fast" didn't begin to describe it. He'd turned, closed the distance in a single step, and his fingers were already resting against Yugi's mouth.
"—"
As if to seal every word before it could be spoken.
Cold fingertips. No force behind them.
But his other hand rested against the hilt of his sword.
Close enough to draw. A stance ready to strike.
Blue eyes looked down at him.
There was nowhere to run.
Close enough to kill.
Close enough to be killed.
"I am... Seto."
The air froze.
Seto.
The name of the white rose army's dragon commander, Rosenkreuz.
Something inside Yugi's chest broke, with a sound.
Right. He's the enemy.
Once known, he could no longer pretend not to know.
To know a name was to gain a reason to raise a blade against him.
The red rose's prince, and the white rose's dragon. Should they meet, they had to kill each other.
Seto's fingertips were still against his lips.
If the hand resting on the sword's hilt so much as moved, everything would end.
Yugi held his breath. Unable to flee, unable to resist, he could only stare into those eyes.
Those fingertips should have been cold, and yet only where they touched carried a strange heat.
Yugi looked at that hand. Not the hand that gripped a sword — a quiet hand. He gently touched those fingertips himself and slowly drew them away from his own mouth.
Seto didn't stop him. He only watched.
"...Am I allowed to say that name?"
Yugi asked, steadying his breath.
The question was quiet. But it was a confirmation more dangerous than any blade.
Seto's eyes narrowed, faintly.
The hand on the sword's hilt was still there. But it hadn't drawn.
"...If you don't know who I am... there's no problem."
Whether those words were forgiveness or a line drawn, he couldn't tell.
Only this much he understood: he had been given permission to say the name.
"...Seto."
He'd finally said the name. The instant he gave it sound, something became real.
Not a dragon, not a commander, not an enemy. Seto — the name of a single man.
Seto's eyes wavered, faintly. Seeing that, Yugi thought a little.
"...I'm Yugi."
That was all he offered.
In the night, only those two names remained.
Seto said nothing for a while. He only watched. As if confirming that name, that existence.
Then, slowly, he let his hand fall from the sword's hilt. That, unmistakably, was a choice.
The night wasn't over yet.
"Yugi."
His name was called.
The voice was low and quiet, but it was, unmistakably, meant only for him.
Yugi held his breath. Slowly lifting his face, he found Seto standing there, looking down. Still in the dragon armor, but no longer gripping his sword.
Seto stayed silent for a while, as if confirming something.
Eventually, his lips moved, faintly.
"...Do you want to come?"
The question was short, but its meaning was far too wide.
He didn't say where. The fortress, the battlefield, or somewhere further still.
Yugi didn't answer. Instead, something in his chest ached again, for some reason.
He parted his lips to speak, then closed them.
"...I can't go."
That was all he finally managed to answer.
Seto's eyes narrowed, faintly.
"Can't, hm."
There was almost no emotion in that repeated word. But his gaze was sharp.
He was looking not at the words, but at what lay behind them. Yugi didn't look away. If he looked away, he felt he would be admitting to something.
Seto could see it. How many things bound Yugi, and how tightly.
Hiding his name, concealing his standing, not even allowing himself to wish for things.
Bound hand and foot. His whole body caught in invisible chains.
That was how he had lived.
Seto said nothing. He only watched Yugi. Watched him standing there, within his chains.
Seto looked down at the hand still holding his own. Slender fingers. Not the fingers of someone who wielded a sword.
Fingers that seemed made to hold something other than a blade. He took that hand in return.
Yugi's shoulders jumped, startled.
Seto lifted Yugi's fingertips, and, for just an instant, pressed his lips to them.
So light it was hard to tell whether he'd touched him at all.
But it was, unmistakably, a kiss. Yugi's fingertips grew warm. His heart gave a sudden, hard beat.
Seto said nothing, released his hand, and turned his back. The dragon armor caught the moonlight.
Step by step, he grew distant. Watching that back, Yugi startled.
He hadn't said it yet.
"Wait."
The word came out on its own.
Seto's steps stopped. But he didn't turn around.
Yugi searched for words. Picked up on a battlefield, saved from poison, sheltered, and sent back.
No reason, no repayment expected. He hadn't said it yet.
"...Thank you."
His voice trembled slightly. Even so, it reached Seto, clearly.
Silence fell.
A few seconds, or perhaps longer.
When Seto turned, a faint smile had risen on his face.
"...A whim."
He said it, low.
Leaving only that behind, this time, Seto truly disappeared into the night.
When Yugi returned to the red rose camp, no one blamed him.
There had been no time to. The state of the war was locked in stalemate. The losses, the exhaustion — both were nearing their limit.
Yugi said nothing about it.
He took up his sword again, and stood on the battlefield once more. His hand no longer trembled.
The war didn't last much longer after that.
The balance broke, suddenly. The white rose's movements grew sluggish. Their defense fell behind. As if they'd lost their center.
Yugi understood: Seto had left.
He had no idea why. But he understood it anyway. That man was no longer there.
And the chance came. The red rose turned to the offensive. Pushing back, breaking through, taking ground again. The front line collapsed.
Victory belonged to the red rose.
Cheers rose up, and everyone let out a breath of relief. It was over.
Yugi finally lowered his sword.
That was when he suddenly felt a gaze on him. He turned, startled — but no one was there.
Only the wind stirring the grass. Even so, he had felt it, without doubt. He'd been watched.
Yugi started walking. Up the hill, past crumbled stone walls, past burned ground. Searching, without meaning to. But there was no one, anywhere.
No dragon armor, no those eyes, no that voice. Nowhere at all.
He understood that. And still, he searched. Searched, and finally realized.
I want to see him again.
Those words took shape naturally, deep in his chest.
He came to a stop, and the wind stirred his forelock.
The place Seto had touched still seemed to hold its warmth.
I want to see him again.
No reason needed, no necessity either.
Just — he wanted to see him.
Thinking that, something in his chest seemed to creak.
The deer fled into the depths of the forest.
The arrow had missed. Yugi lowered his bow and let out a breath.
The forest, just past winter, was quiet. His guards were some distance away.
Suddenly, the wind stopped. No — the flow of the wind changed.
Yugi's fingertips tensed, faintly.
He knew this feeling. Yugi turned around, slowly.
There he was.
In the gap between the trees, within the shadows.
Time rewound.
Back to that night.
Back to those fingertips.
Back to that name.
His body moved before thought caught up.
One step, then another. Dead leaves rustled underfoot.
He didn't leave.
He didn't vanish.
He wasn't an illusion.
Yugi's throat opened.
"Rose—"
"Don't say it."
The low voice overlapped with his own. The same as that time. Seto was already right in front of him.
Fast, again — too fast to see.
And, the same as before, his fingertips were touching Yugi's mouth.
But this time, there was no hand resting on a sword.
"..."
Yugi's eyes wavered.
"That name isn't needed right now."
The fingertips withdrew. But this time, Yugi didn't stop there. He drew a breath and spoke the name, straight out.
"...Seto."
His voice, his whole body, trembled. The moment he'd wished for was, now, right in front of him.
Seto didn't answer. He only watched.
Unlike that time, he simply didn't try to leave.
Yugi took one more step closer.
"I really... found you again."
The words didn't quite take shape.
Seto's eyes softened, just faintly.
"...Did you want to see me?"
Seto's question was low, quiet.
Yugi no longer had any reason to run.
He drew out the words he'd kept, deep in his chest, all this time, exactly as they were.
"...I wanted to see you."
His voice was small. But there was no hesitation in it.
Seto said nothing. He only watched, the same as that night.
"...Do you want to come?"
The same question as before. But this time, Yugi answered right away.
"I want to."
At that instant, it felt as if the wind had stopped. Seto's eyes blinked.
But Yugi went on.
"...But I can't go. I belong here."
That wasn't chains. It was a place he'd chosen, and stood on, himself.
After a long silence, Seto let out a breath.
"...I see."
There was no disappointment in that voice. Only understanding. And then, he turned to leave.
"I'll go."
The instant he saw that back, Yugi's body moved on its own.
"Wait."
He'd called out to stop him. The same as that night. But this time was different.
"...Won't you stay in this country, a little longer?"
He had no reason to hold him here.
Even so, he said it. Seto stopped. He didn't turn around. But he didn't leave, either.
"...What's the reason?"
Yugi smiled, just a little. Surprisingly calm, even to himself.
"...We only just found each other again."
That was all. Because that was everything.
Eventually, Seto turned his face slightly to the side.
"...Just a little, then."
Hearing that, Yugi smiled again.
No one noticed the king had disappeared.
More precisely, even those who noticed said nothing.
The capital was busy with postwar rebuilding and the reordering of a new administration.
Everyone found their own convenient explanation for why the king hadn't appeared at official duties for several days.
Rest. Prayer. Or preparation for the next stage of governance.
No one imagined he was at a small inn on the edge of the forest.
Along a road roughly half a day from the capital. A place only merchants and travelers passed through.
Yugi pulled his cloak's hood down low and paused once, in front of the wooden door.
Strangely, there was no hesitation. When he pushed the door open, it creaked, but inside was quiet.
Seto stood by the window. His back turned.
"...You came."
A low voice. Nothing more.
Yugi didn't answer. Instead, he removed his cloak. The sound of fabric slipping from his shoulders fell softly into the room.
Seto turned. His eyes narrowed, faintly.
It wasn't surprise — it was confirmation.
Yugi took a few steps closer.
"...Am I allowed to be here?"
Yugi asked, quietly. Seto shrugged, just slightly.
"Do as you like."
The same words as that time. But the meaning was different now.
Yugi laughed, softly.
From that day, Yugi stayed there.
In the morning, the two of them went into town.
A small town, unlike the capital. Uneven cobblestones, a modest market, no one who knew either of them.
They walked side by side, at a distance that didn't touch but never drifted apart either. Buying bread, sharing fruit, walking along the river.
Yugi wondered, more than once, whether time like this was even allowed to exist.
Seto said nothing. But he didn't leave. That alone was enough.
Night.
The inn had only one room.
He'd known that from the start. Yugi stood by the window. Outside was dark.
Turning around, Seto was there. The same as that night. The only difference was there was no sword.
Yugi walked slowly closer and reached out a hand. Then he stopped, at a distance just barely not touching.
Seto didn't move, but didn't refuse either. Yugi's fingertips touched Seto's cheek. Warm. Alive. As if confirming it.
Seto's hand caught Yugi's wrist.
But this time, not to kiss it. He pulled him closer.
The distance vanished, their breath mingling.
Yugi's eyes wavered.
He didn't run. There was no longer any reason to.
Seto's fingers touched Yugi's hair.
And then, their lips met.
It wasn't something taken. It was something confirmed.
As Yugi's hand moved to Seto's back, Seto's arm drew him in close.
Firmly, but with a firmness that didn't confine him. He guided him, just so, toward the bed.
The night was quiet.
Unhurried. Before wanting, they chose touching.
As if, with each touch, they taught each other: I'm here.
No words were needed.
Yugi closed his eyes, within those arms.
In a place that was nowhere.
As Yugi, belonging to no one.
A few days.
A time no one knew about.
A small life, cut off from the world.
But both of them knew this time wasn't forever.
That was exactly why they didn't let go of a single moment.
Outside the door, a horse let out a small whinny. That sound told him the end was near.
Morning had barely begun. The sky was pale, the town still sleeping.
Behind him, the creak of leather. He didn't need to turn around to know Seto had finished preparing to travel.
"...Leaving?"
The question didn't take the shape of a question.
"Yeah."
A short answer. Nothing more followed.
Yugi had no choice but to nod. This had been decided from the very start.
Seto wasn't someone who stayed. Perhaps he'd found what he'd been searching for.
What that was, he didn't know.
He only knew that, for a few days, that man had been beside him. That was enough.
Seto moved toward the door and set a hand on it. At that instant, Yugi's throat moved on its own.
"...Again..."
The words stopped there.
Again, what.
Again, when.
Would he come again.
Would they meet again.
He had no right to ask. But the words wouldn't come back.
Seto turned, and those blue eyes fixed straight on Yugi.
"...Do you want to see me?"
A quiet voice.
Not testing him, not refusing him — only scooping up whatever lay beneath the words.
Yugi held his breath.
Unlike that night. He could no longer pretend not to know.
His lips parted.
"...I want to see you."
His voice trembled. But it was, unmistakably, his own words.
Seto blinked. Then, looking satisfied, he smiled.
It was a smile Yugi had never seen before — one held back no longer.
"I see."
The voice fell, low, almost like a breath. And then—
"...If that's what you want."
That was all he answered.
Not a promise.
Not a vow, either.
Seto opened the door, and light spilled in with the creak of the hinge. Then he was gone.
Yugi didn't chase after him.
Because he already knew.
He had wished for it.
And it had reached him.
Outside the window, the sound of hooves grew distant.
Yugi didn't move until that sound disappeared entirely.
At his fingertips, that warmth still remained.
