"If you leave this room before I return, I will see to it that you are locked up in your room for the next week straight," the woman hissed through cracked lips before slamming the shoji to a close, leaving the pale boy to his own devices. Art knew that she meant every word of her threat; she had made similar ones in the past and kept true to them.

Her words came as no surprise to him though. It's not as if they were something he didn't know the reason behind. Oh, he knew full well of why she tried to give him a scare each time before leaving him by himself in a room. It was only natural that his 'mother' wouldn't want the bastard child of her husband and his mistress to be seen, nonetheless a cross-dressing one. But it's not like cross-dressing was a life style choice for him, much less a preference, but rather something that was forced upon him. After finding out that his mistress was pregnant with his child, Art's father vehemently objected to the idea of bringing it into his family. Takuya Sakatsu already had plenty of heirs to adopt his estate when he died, and two beautiful daughters that he could marry off to any rich man he picked, so he saw no need for a bastard child that would only stain his name. However his mistress had other plans, and sadly parted from this world promptly after giving birth to her only son, Art. It was a strange name that only made his father hate him more, claiming it was actually perfect for him. "A strange name fitting for a child's whose fate is to be ostracized," he would always tell him.

It was his father's wife that decided Art would be raised as a female. She came up with the self-proclaimed brilliant idea that once he was old enough, they could sell him off as a beautiful bride to any perverted old geezer that would pay a pretty enough penny for him. And thus began Art's perfectly plotted life, retained strictly to his father's estate. Few were to know of him and he was to know none.

It was a lonely life, but Art had no room to complain, less his mother strike him for it. Since they didn't want many to know of his existence, he at least understood why they were strict with his roaming privileges. He had tested the waters a few times already, daring to leave his assigned room –or more fittingly, his cage– to explore the large expanse of the estate fitting of the Sakatsu name. Though he was punished with sharp cuts on his feet to prevent him being able to comfortably walk too far after each time he was caught, he found the pain to be miniscule in comparison to the fruits one of his small adventures out bore him.

One day, when he was 10, Art was lucky enough to stumble upon a young servant boy the about same age as him. It was the third time that Art had taken the risk of sneaking out of his confinements to explore a bit of the ever large estate that he was kept on, and he chose to venture out to see the garden this time. He had seen glimpses of it before while being moved to a different room in the house, so he knew they had one and that it made up for a good half of the estate itself, he had just never been granted permission to set foot on it. But that chilly autumn morning Art decided to change that, and that's when he met Nice.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't know there were guests over!" It was a given that Nice wouldn't know of Art's existence when his family tried so hard to make sure that was the case with most all of the world.

"It's no trouble, really. Please, carry on with your chores," Art decided to leave out the details of who he was, less he get the other boy in trouble for knowing about him. This was the first person his age that he's ever gotten to talk to, the first person that wasn't his controlling mother and a select few servants that he's ever gotten to talk to, he'd be damned if he was going to mess this up for either of them by getting one of them in trouble.

The servant boy visibly relaxed with a smile that was completely new to Art's world. How could one smile so easily like that? Was that the gift of freedom? "Thank you, little miss! I'll make sure to clean up this garden nice and pretty so that you can properly enjoy it!"

Art was left completely speechless by the other's seemingly unlimited kindness toward a total stranger. Are most of the people outside my room like this? Or is he just ridiculously nice? "Um, thank you," he tucked a piece of hair behind his ear before nervously continuing, "I myself, and I'm sure the rest of this family, appreciate your hard work," he tried to look everywhere but at the other boy, too wracked with nervousness to make eye contact. Communicating with others was not something he had the privilege of doing when cooped up in one room day after day, so casually talking with someone else was a foreign subject to him.

The other boy stared at him for a second, he looked like he was trying to figure out if he recognized Art as one of the Sakatsu kids but couldn't recall ever seeing him. "It is my job, after all," he raked up the last of the leaves that fell with the new season. As pretty as the maple trees' leaves were, Art knew that his mother would not stand to see a single one 'tarnish her perfect canvas'. "Do you visit this house often? This is the first time I've seen you here."

The boy, who Art noticed was a brunette with a collection of bandages on his face –perhaps from his housework?–, spoke straight to the point and caught Art off guard. Should I tell him? It would be safer for us both if I lied. But I'll probably never meet him again, so he'll most likely forget me like a dream after a while. "Actually…," he paused to look around, checking for anyone that would recognize him, "I live here. Just not…with everyone else." He wasn't telling the complete truth but he wasn't lying, besides, being vague was probably better for the both of them if anyone found out Art had met one of the servants while being outside when he wasn't supposed to be.

"You live here?" round blue eyes that seemed to reflect the rest of the world that Art had yet to explore blinked at him, their owner tilting his head as if to add an extra question mark to his question. "I've never seen you around. Do you just not like coming outside?" It was an innocent question with more impact on Art than the other boy would ever know, or at least not realize until years down the road once he had learned more about Art.

Art somehow managed to smooth over the question without any hindrance in his voice aside from a light tremor in the beginning, "I…I'm kept inside. I'm not allowed outside of my room." It was ok to tell a boy he just met this, right? He won't even remember Art in a week, right? Oh god, he won't get punished if I tell him, right? "But I wanted to see the garden for once, so I snuck out…," Art's eyes anxiously darted around their sockets left and right to double check if anyone was eavesdropping or coming their way.

"Snuck out?" Shimmering eyes full of bemusement and something similar looking to admiration were wide and dead set on Art, making him shift in discomfort. "So you're," the servant boy suddenly lowered his head and leaned in so that Art could hear him whisper, "a secret?" Art was left stunned, staring back at the other boy with his mouth open unceremoniously wide. Why does he say it as if I were some type of national treasure? I'm sure if he knew, he wouldn't speak of me as if I were a jewel that he had found one day on the sidewalk and decided to keep in his pocket as his own little treasure that no one would know about. I'm sure if he knew…

"Yes, I'm the bastard son of the lord of this house," he bit out scornfully. I bet you're appalled now that you know the truth, aren't you? Go ahead, run away—

Without Art even blinking in time to notice, the servant boy who was just raking the leaves had ran across the distance separating them and wound his arms around Art without a single word. Art could feel the overwhelming warmth emanating from the other boy seep through his layers of clothing and crawl its way under his skin. Who knew humans could be so warm… Having another person's arms around him was a new experience, and he wasn't quite sure yet whether he was enjoying it or not. He feels…safe, somehow…

Frail arms tentatively wrapped around the other boy's frame. That's funny, why am I trembling?

"I'm Nice," his voice came out steady and resolute, like he had been deciding on something this whole time and just now came to a firm decision, and it rang in Art's ears as loud as the temple bells at the top of the mountain did when people paid their respects to the Gods. Unbeknownst to young Art Sakatsu, Nice the servant boy would soon become to him a god that he would pray his thanks to daily.

"I'm Art, it's nice to meet you."