Though it had been ten months since he had last been back, Jihoon could never forget the faint smell of the corridors, the precise cream-yellow hue of the walls. Automatically, his hand stretched out to brush over the crack in the wallpaper the twins had created when Jeonghan threw his older brother over his head. Without thinking, his eyes wandered up to the tips of the ionic pillars, to check if the bag of chocolates he’d stashed between the carvings was still there. A faint little green tassel hung there, just as it had for years.

Memories flooded him, walking down the halls. Amy, who arranged the flowers all over the palace, must have heard he would be arriving: fresh peonies had been placed in some of the priceless vases down the corridors. He stopped in the middle, staring at one bouquet before leaning in closer to smell the fresh scent of the flower.

“Sir. Amy will murder me if you take it.”

“…I’ll take it later.” Jihoon smiled softly to himself before dropping the sensitive look, instead burrowing down the Persian carpet. “I have no time for flowers today.”

There was always something steely that came over Jihoon when he was home, Wonwoo noticed: it wasn’t surprising, not with all the suffering the Prince had endured in his royal state, but it was disheartening to see him glow and beam in one small coffee shop, and become a cold, insensitive, almost brutish figure in the palace.

“Who will be here?” he asked curtly, getting close.

“Nana and Yoonjo are both on their way. Shannon is being tutored. Dino is resting.”

With that information and that information alone, Jihoon threw open the double doors to his parents’ bedroom, ignoring all his siblings as he stalked past and knelt by the bedside, taking his father’s hand in his.

For a moment there was ice in the air as the family dealt with the sudden burst of the Dark Prince.

Then Aron gently put a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder. “Hey. He’s asleep for now. It’s okay.”

It took Jihoon a moment before he gently let his father’s hand rest on the bedsheets again, standing up.

Aron put his arm around his little brother’s shoulders. “…hey, kid. Missed you.”

“…yeah.”

“ reason to have to come back for.”

“Yeah.”

“…love you.”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon went around the room, giving his brothers tight hugs: Joshua’s was gentle, almost a non-existent hug, and his twin brother’s was light but caring. Minhyun hugged a little limply, but Jun spared his kid brother no expense: the man squeezed his brother until the boy was going red.

“Alright, Jun. That’s enough.”

“Aw. I wanted to squeeze him till his head popped off.” Jun let the small boy down and tousled his hair. “…thanks for coming back, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jihoon turned to his rescuer. “Thanks, uncle Heechul.”

“My pleasure, boy.” The thin man in the doorway leaned a little on his cane to take the weight off his right foot. “Going?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And we all know where to.” He smiled, moving out of the way. “Do us all a favour and go visit your little sister, first!”

“Like I’d forget the baby.” Jihoon nodded. “…I’ll be back in one hour.”

Wonwoo followed him – as was his job – all the way to the tutoring rooms, where a little petulant twelve-year-old girl was far too distracted to complete all her math assignments. When she looked up, a spark returned to her eyes. “Hoonie!”

Jihoon gave the girl a bright smile and leaned down, opening his arms wide for the cuddling embrace he knew he’d receive. “Hello, darling.” He picked his little sister up and gave her tutor a nod. “How’s my little girl?”

Shannon pressed her face up against her brother’s shoulder. “…I’m sad.”

“…yeah. I know. We’re all a little sad, I think.” He kissed the girl’s hair. “You bleached, again.”

“Do you like it?” She squirmed to stand on the ground and played with the roots of her blonde hair. “You have to say you do. Even if you don’t. Otherwise it’s rude.”

Jihoon chuckled. “I like it, don’t worry. I like my baby sister is the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world.”

“You better, ‘cause I think my brother doesn’t come home often enough.”

Jihoon almost smiled at his baby sister’s straight-forward comments. “I know, sweety. I’m sorry.”

A ping rang through the room, and the twelve-year-old rushed back to the table to retrieve her phone, texting on her way back.

“Mom let you have a smartphone? You’re like.. five years old.”

“I’m twelve years, seven months and eighteen days,” she answered instantly, not taking her eyes off the phone. “Besides. It’s a girl thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m sure.” Jihoon stood there a moment. “Who are you texting?”

“...Hika.”

“I’m sorry?” Jihoon froze, thunder accumulating on his forehead. “I must have heard that wrong. I thought you said Hika. As in Hikaru. As in, Sato Hikaru. But of course. My mistake. I’m sorry, I heard you wrong. Who did you say you were texting?”

“Sato Hikaru.”

Jihoon jumped a little and swiped for the phone: obviously he had missed elemental points of his sister’s growth from a child into a young tween, for she had absolutely mastere