Wellll... It's definitely been awhile since I last posted. I'm really sorry, but I hope you like this one! (...And if it was worth the wait.) I know it's not anywhere close to New Year's, but this one-shot has been left unfinished for some time, so I figured I should finish it.

Always, happy reading!~

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Slipping away from the ballroom banquet, overwhelmed and dreading the crowd, Ike tugged further on his dark turquoise yukata — forcing it over his shoulders as the calm and chilling wind softly breezed past. The moonlight shined onto the balcony's golden railings as he slowly approached the shimmering, open platform. Stars twinkled through the darkened sky, catching the mercenary's eyes as he gazed up into the night.

Loud... Obnoxious... He groans under his breath, hunching over, resting his elbows onto the railing. I just... can't handle it. Why must I be so closed off? His pale-tinted fingers caress through strands of navy blue locks, tightly gripping onto his hair out of frustration and disappointment. Not in anyone, but rather, himself. "Public gatherings—"

A loud grunt of annoyance escaped his parted lips, furrowed eyebrows pointed towards the sky. Slowly releasing his grasp, relaxing his body, Ike wearily glanced back down to the dark, empty horizon. The sun is no longer visible, setting the mood for a perfect 'after-hours' banquet.

Heroes from all realms and walks of life are celebrating their tenth year anniversary. Such an impressive milestone. ...Yet, Ike cannot say the same. Of course, commendations are always spoken amongst others — aside from that, however, not much else can be praised. The atmosphere, mood, setting — all is perfect, but then again, it isn't.

All Ike needs is a moment to himself. The silence of the chilling air; a brief respite for his soul. He breathed a sigh of relief, his tense muscles managing to release pressure, calming himself down. Peace has finally been achieved. Sadly, the effect does not last long.

Soon enough, the bustling crowd of heroes found their way to the highest floor, exactly where the mercenary is. To Ike's luck, however, they had built up on the other side, opposite from where he had stood. Many were pushing and slightly shoving each other to gain a clearer view of the upcoming and final performance. Fireworks. Chatter, laughter, smiles — sounds traveled everywhere amongst others.

Gazing over his shoulder, Ike shook his head. The pressuring feeling of wanting to talk to heroes was tugging on his heartstrings. He is always open to discussion and casual conversations, regardless of the celebration. However, on this particular day, Ike couldn't disagree with himself more.

Resolutions... A whole new year... Growing through prosperity...

Why does it all have to be so stressful?

Every year, dressed in his usual yukata, Ike can't help but worry. Every year, holding tightly onto his omamori; putting faith into its belief.

And yet, every year, the fireworks set his heart ablaze.

Fingers grasp the golden railing tighter, knuckles pale from the harsh grip as the commander exhaled heavily through bared teeth. Soon enough, Ike simply gave up his feeling of desperation and sorrow — giving in to the feeling of loneliness on the blessed day. Here he was, yet another year soon to come and only to be left in isolation once more.

A gust of wind breezed by, the darkened green frills from his headband flowing within the air. Head hung low between his shoulders, the mercenary released an exasperated sigh, frowning to himself. Lowly lidded eyes gazed up at the twinkling stars, as if they were attempting to comfort the lonely commander. He smiled softly at the scenery, although he knew well enough that simple lights would not keep him content.

The faint chattering heard from behind grew louder—the sounds of champagne glasses clinking, rustling of kimonos, cheerful voices. How Ike wished he had the courage to show his face within the crowd, yet refused himself.

Quiet, almost silent footsteps were approaching the wide opening to the same balcony the mercenary was on, startling him as his irises darted towards the corner of his eyes — not particularly fond of the sudden company.

"Ah," A gentle voice had spoken, allowing their mysterious figure to fade into view. "Ike, was it? How curious to see you standing by yourself here." Hands clasped together, resting against the prince's waist, Marth nodded subtly in his direction before approaching the railings.

Ike gazed at the monarch, puzzled and confused as an eyebrow stayed curled upwards. Lips parting and closing, no words could come out. The Hero-King, someone who Ike had never gotten past a 'first-name basis' with, appeared right before his very eyes unexpectedly.

With a sincere smile, the royal held his palm out, which paused the commander in his faltering words. "Please. Do not trouble yourself by making small talk with me." A calming exhale seeped through Marth's lips. "I'm aware you...struggle with certain words."

Shoulders rising to the prince's chin level, he shrugged, azure irises carefully examining the man who stood before him. With ease, he could suspect that Ike truly did want to be alone, but the yearn for his wish was left to be desired. "I merely came here for a break away from the bustling of heroes." Skeptical eyes glance Ike's way, "I suppose you have done the same?"

Hand reaching to grasp the back of his sweaty, heated neck, Ike gulped down a nerve racking lump in his throat as he gently caressed the dampened skin on his neck. "You could say that. I just—" The commander paused once more, swallowing another lump of embarrassment. "—needed some fresh air."

A soft, caring nod was left in return as Marth gazed out, far from the balcony and taking in the view. He noted how the crowd behind them was still growing, their voice level raised higher with such excitement. "Tell me," The royal took a deep breath, eyes not meeting Ike's as he continued to admire the starry night. "Why do you come here every year? Alone, by yourself."

Eyes lowered to the marbled floor of the balcony, shame creeping upon the mercenary's shoulders as he hunched over the railing, palms cradling his arms. "So you're...aware of it."

"Of course I am. Without fail, I always see you standing here." Marth's voice slightly quaked at the thought, an odd surge of sorrow, acknowledging how he had witnessed the man on his own. Yet never dared to approach him until now.

After ten years.

Ten years of watching. Ten years of waiting. Ten years of purely seeing Ike stand in this very spot, no one to confront him.

Marth, however, wasn't the only one who realized his words. Curious, Ike glanced back over at the shorter man, head still hung between his shoulders as he relaxed on the railing. "Why now, of all times?" In the commander's eyes, it was strange to know; someone who had been continuously spectating him for many years on end — deciding to make a move now.

Deeply sighing, the monarch frowned as he turned to face the mercenary, eyes slowly raising to meet his gaze. "In truth, I was a coward. I had always assumed that if, by chance, I were to approach you, I would be met with hostility."

"You seemed so..." Nervous hands rustled against the soft cotton of his yukata, words carefully being considered as to not anger or startle the taller man. "...Tranquil. Were I to interrupt, the outcome didn't seem pleasant to me."

There was a diffident silence, almost uncomforting, as Marth wished he had not said such things. For the mercenary, in some ways, it was almost offensive. To think, purely from being in solitude every year, one would dare assume he would treat them harshly when met face-to-face. When in reality, although Ike desired privacy, the dread of secludedness grew stronger each year.

Marth's intrusion had brought relief to Ike, albeit he had continuously wallowed away in uncertainty for so long. Witnessing a familiar face come to him, it felt...

"I wouldn't have hurt you. Regardless of your manner." Ike shifted his weight, a perturbed expression betrayed his nervousness as he turned to face the royal. Hesitant on what to say, already feeling like such a fool for saying something so absurd. Unfortunately, he had already dug a grave deep for himself. There was no other option but to see it through.

"Out of all the heroes here, I...guess you could say, I'm glad it was you who showed up." Ike watched intently as Marth's eyes softened, hand rising to rest against his chest. A benign smile rose onto his face, the simple, yet kind words touching his delicate heart. Perhaps it didn't mean much to the mercenary, only speaking to counteract his hurtful words prior. And yet, to the royal, it made him feel pleasant.

Softly laughing to himself, Marth unfurled his blue-fabric fan in order to shield the redness that bloomed across his cheeks. "You're awfully too kind." Lowly lidded eyes glanced away, flattered, as he continued, "I never thought words could make me feel so...warm."

The mercenary nearly jerked his head back in shock, "Warm...? What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, it's—!" Beneath that velvet fan, concealing the flushed expression upon the shorter man's face perfectly, Marth's breath hitched as he nervously began to fan himself. The cooling air washed over his head and neck, steadying his breath before eyeing the commander beside him. Clearing his throat, "It was merely an expression. As in, my heart was..."

Marth's words trailed off as he slowly lowered his fan, his wooden geta pair clicking on the marble as he stepped closer, hand grazing the railing. The two swordsmen were much closer now, their atmosphere gradually increasing in heat before being interrupted by the midnight's gust of wind. Within that moment, it seemed as if they were taking advantage of gaining a closer look at one another—bright, glistening blue irises stared deeply into darkened, somber navy ones.

Lips parted to exude a shaky, almost trembling exhale as Marth's eyes flickered away one last time, until they finally locked onto Ike's own. "...Warm." Finally concluding his sentence.

Without a moment to waste, the combined chanting of heroes began. Merely ten seconds left as their voices collided behind the males, fusing together in order to create a singular loud voice.

"Ten!"

Looking over their shoulders briefly, a joyful giggle hummed beneath Marth's pursed lips, meanwhile Ike was aimlessly shaking his head at the crowd's excitement.

"Nine!"

Glancing back at each other, no statement was formed. Attempting to break that sudden silence proved difficult. Within a mental agreement, the males mutually acknowledged the other's thought purely from their facial expression and movements.

"Eight!"

'We are going to stay on this balcony. Alone, together.' That was the conclusion.

"Seven!"

A request so trivial, would either dare to truly follow through with such a plan? What of celebrating with those whom they loved? Willing to leave such important people with other fellow heroes, purely to spend their last seconds of the year on this specific balcony.

"Six!"

Did it mean anything? Could it have meant something? Perhaps it was simply a case of overthinking. One desired to be alone constantly, while the other approached him in hopes of providing company.

"Five!"

There was an odd myth that drifted around the kingdom of Askr. Whether it was true or not, no one had dared to attempt its 'prophecy,' despite its deep meaning resulting in nothing negative.

"Four!"

There are those who say that your first action of the year truly marks how your future plays out.

"Three!"

While it may not be true, sometimes it couldn't hurt to have fun and give it a chance. In that case...

"Two!"

So be it.

"One!"

Hands rise to cradle his face, pulling himself closer, chest pressed against the other's. The movement was sudden as he stepped back in shock, feeling a certain softness make contact. A sharp pop sound filled the air as its singular spark shot up, exploding into multiple streaks of colors that danced and sparkled. Multiple other dazzling lines of light soared high, bursting with endless diversity of colors, outshining the starlight.

On the polished marble floor, a shadow loomed on its surface, perfectly outlining the figures of two heroes. Upon a simple glance, one would think it was a mere embrace. If daring to examine closer, others might see something that says otherwise. One thing was for certain.

It would be an unforgettable ending to their tenth year.