31 August, the harmonious hum of a private jet echoed as it landed on the runway of a secluded airport in Yorknew City. Haruto, Canary, Machi, and Kurtopi disembarked, footsteps synchronizing with the fluttering heartbeats, as Yorknew's atmosphere embraced them.
An envoy from the United States of Saherta approached, their postures rigid, their gazes set on Haruto, shadows of respect etched on their faces. "Welcome to Yorknew City, Your Highness," greeted the lead envoy, his head bowed in deference.
Haruto nodded, his aura palpable, "Thank you for your hospitality. Lead the way."
The envoys herded them to a luxurious palace designated for their stay. The majestic surroundings spoke of the reverence the President held for Haruto. "Your Highness, everything has been arranged per your liking. Should there be anything unsatisfactory, we shall see it amended," the envoy informed, glancing surreptitiously at Haruto, gauging his
reaction.
His gaze and Nen swept over the place meticulously, subtle edges of his aura alert and probing, scrutinizing the surroundings for anything that might be amiss. The ambiance, though refined, concealed nothing of note, allowing Haruto to stride forward, his steps echoing in the vast hall as the sea of servants and maids bowed in unison. The Republic's President had no authority equivalent to a King, a fact Haruto was rather grateful for, particularly considering King Tanoshi's unwarranted offerings of courtesans, a gesture he had found utterly displeasing.
Canary, with her habitual meticulousness, was the first to step into Haruto's room. Her gaze flickered across every shadow and corner, searching for hidden devices or potential threats. When her silent vigil uncovered no lurking danger, she nodded to Haruto, allowing him entry.
Haruto then turned to Machi and Kurtopi, his voice unwavering, "Rest well." His words were followed by a pair of silent nods as they retired for the night.
The envoy emerged again, presenting a tablet, the calendar displayed highlighted with patches of green and red. "Your Highness," he said with a hint of trepidation, "President John Hiden implores your attendance for a meeting. Kindly mark any green hour per your availability."
Haruto's eyes skimmed over the tablet, a subtle air of contemplation about him. "I shall meet President Hiden at the third green hour tomorrow," he declared, his tone resolute yet thoughtful. A quiet "Understood, Your Highness" was the envoy's reply, the resonance of respect palpable in his voice.
As the envoy retreated, a fleeting interaction transpired between Haruto and Canary. Her eyes, a mix of concern and curiosity, met his. "Are you not resting, Haruto?" Her voice carried a soft, protective undertone.
Haruto shook his head, his gaze unfocused, lost in the spectral dance of the night. "I don't feel particularly sleepy." The inherent capability of Nen practitioners allowed them to channel their internal energies to alleviate daily needs. Haruto, with this technique, could prolong his wakefulness for a month with only a trace of discomfort wafting through him. Nevertheless, he maintained a pattern of sleeping more than five hours every day, a semblance of normalcy to placate Canary's fretful thoughts.
Noticing his contemplative posture near the window, Canary approached, her footsteps whispering secrets to the air. Haruto shifted, a silent invitation rippling in the movement, and patted the space next to him. A blush blossomed on Canary's cheeks as she acceded, immersing herself in the celestial symphony above. The sky, a canvas splattered with ethereal glints, unfolded its myriad stories before them. Their souls danced in the silence, words unspoken yet understood, as the stars played their eternal symphony.
The ambiance, bathed in moonlight, cradled their mutual silence, the flickers of unspoken words fluttering in their breaths. "Canary," Haruto's voice broke the tranquil symphony, his words riding the gentle air. His gaze was locked onto the sprawling sky, its radiance a mirror to his subtle ambition.
"Yes, Haruto?" her response, a whispered echo, curled around his name, wrapping it in warmth.
"Ever wondered about the worlds beyond ours?" His query felt like a brush of wind against her soul, light and filled with an innate curiosity. His regal persona subtly ebbed away, revealing a more genuine facet of his being.
She allowed herself a smile, her gaze lost in the celestial dance. "Often. It seems like an infinite waltz of possibilities and mysteries."
A thoughtful hum emanated from him, the sound mingling with the nocturnal symphony. "Infinite. A concept so boundless, yet here we are, confined to our finite existences."
The words felt like echoes of an eternal query, resonating with her own musings. "Do you think," her voice hovered, her gaze meeting his, "we are alone in this boundlessness?"
A contemplative silence encased them, the stars whispering their untold tales. "No," Haruto's response, imbued with an untraceable conviction, pierced the silence. "I believe the universe cradles countless lives, entities unknown to us."
"Do you want to conquer it?" Canary asked. Her words were like whispers, laced with knowledge of the boy who grew up beside her, of the leader entwined with his destiny. Haruto was not merely ambitious; he was meant to lead, to command respect and submission. From their group to Meteor City, everything and everyone submitted to him, and it seemed the world would soon follow.
But Haruto's response was as she expected, his head shaking subtly, the silvery moonlight accentuating his contemplative features. "I want to understand it."
A gentle smile played on Canary's lips, revealing the softness etched in her being. Haruto's relentless pursuit of understanding, his insatiable curiosity, was what drew her to him, the tether that held her close. He was no ordinary sovereign, his reign wasn't marked by a thirst for title or wealth or worship, he simply sought to fathom the unknown, to unravel the myriad mysteries the universe veiled.
The night, draped in its celestial cloak, witnessed the symphony of silence between them, a dance of words unspoken, a melody of unshared thoughts. The enigma of the universe, the untold tales of the stars were like silent whispers, filling the air around them, making their breaths sync with the rhythm of the unknown.
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