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Jimin

Jimin didn't know why he was following the princess's plan, yet there he was, preparing to ask for his people's opinions.

He walked the streets of Kayira with his left hand—the one without a glove—in his mouth. Part of it, anyway. The nails. He bit on them until his chipped tooth felt more jagged. Since childhood, Jimin had chewed on his nails and scratched the back of his neck. His father never noticed the scratching, but he had noticed the biting and attempted to get it to stop. When it didn't, the man gave up as long as Jimin contributed to society, which he did. That much was proven as he trekked the streets of his home.

Less than two hundred citizens lived in Kayira, compared to Nionna's over a thousand, if not far more. Maybe it was closer to five thousand, he didn't know. It wasn't like he was allowed inside to count their population.

"Buildings" in Kayira comprised of mud huts. The farmers and hunters had sticks mixed with the mud to hold them up more since they ventured out to the mountain more than most. Sticks were like another religion for some, seeing as they were used for not only construction but also for cleaning up after themselves following a bathroom break. Holes in the ground on the outskirts of the kingdom held their waste, and they had sticks there to wipe. No, it did not feel pleasant, but it wasn't like they had fabric for a fun wiping experience like Nionna.

Kayira and Nionna looked like they were from two different realms, and the specific reason as to why was unknown. Legend said the evil spirits, Alis, haunted the land of Kayira and drove the current residents' ancestors mad enough to destroy the place. In Jimin's opinion, it was the weather. Nionna had richer soil and more shade to protect them from the heatwaves, while Kayira sat out in the open, baking in the scorching sun. Grass died the closer to Kayira it got, after all.

If they had the strength to climb the mountain and try to see what was on the other side, they would, but moving an entire population was far from ideal. They'd have to restart all their infrastructure, farming, water plans, and more, and there was no guarantee the grass was greener on the other side... literally. Scouts who had attempted to climb the mountain said nothing promising lay out there. War was not the ideal solution, but Nionna had what they needed not too far away, not to mention they didn't have to climb a mountain to get there.

Breezes relieved them of the heat, but they were few and far between. Jimin didn't mind the hotness, though. Climate never bothered him. What mattered most was winning the war and protecting his people, and when he stepped up to the first cluster of huts, he knew he had to do just that by taking the leap and enacting the princess's plan.

Two residents were inside, with cloaks covering their frail builds. One woman, one man. They glanced up when he entered, their eyes red. Some had red eyes thanks to the conditions of where they lived, with the constant dust irritating him. Royals avoided it due to living in the castle, but the standard huts weren't so lucky. He couldn't see much of their faces thanks to the cloaks and masks, but he didn't need to see them to know they had scars and brittle skin.

"Forgive me for intruding," he said. Although he had discolored teeth, broken nails, and tattered clothes, he felt out of place in the hut. Like he was insulting them just by existing. If they felt that way, they didn't show it. "I wanted to ask a quick question, if you do not mind."

"Fine," the woman said, her voice scratchy. As scratchy as Kayira's dust.

Since Kayira was a small colony, he knew all of his citizens. The voice made him light up in recognition; the woman was Iyana, one of the educators. Prior to the schools closing down, anyway. War hadn't given them time for education, not to mention they had a total of four kids in Kayira who had been recruited to help farm.

Jimin straightened his shoulders on instinct. "If we were to create a one nation solution with Nionna, would you support it?"

Both the man and woman howled out in laughter at that. They slapped their knees, their bodies bouncing to the point where Jimin thought they'd fall over. It took a moment for them to dial down, but when they did, the man rolled his dark red eyes.

"You think they deserve that? Peace?" His voice was as scratchy as hers, but deeper. Jimin recognized him as Jamir, one of the water haulers who brought water in from Kaji. "After everything we've been through, all the lives we lost? No, we see this through. Kayira raised no cowards. Don't you agree, my prince?"

Two out of less than two hundred thought peace was pointless. Small sample size, but it was the rocky start he wasn't hoping for. Not that he hoped much anyway.

"Fair enough, I'm just going around and asking to see everyone's opinions of it. Majority rule, after all." Jimin dipped his head. "Thank you for your time."

He departed the hut and strolled the destroyed streets of Kayira. Compared to Nionna, it was nothing. It was one sixth of Nionna at best. It didn't help that their numbers dwindled after each battle.

For the rest of the day, Jimin poked and prodded his kingdom for answers. It wasn't until nightfall that he received the result, and out of almost two hundred, three said they'd consider peace. Consider. Not "I'm onboard with it," but consider. That was what he was expecting, but it didn't stop him from biting on his nails anyway.

When he returned to his chambers, he plopped in bed, kicking his shoes off and caring less where they landed. His hand went to his forehead to massage it, but it didn't stop the tightness surrounding him. That tightness appeared every day, whether it be at night when he was in bed, at training, or any other time.

Night brought the worst of it. Whenever he fell asleep, he knew he'd wake up frozen, seeing the ghosts of all the soldiers he had led to their deaths waiting in front of his bed. When that happened, he couldn't move or speak, not even to apologize. Sometimes they'd come in the form of angry spirits, and other times they'd be more demonic with marred flesh and hollow eyes.

He turned and didn't bother pulling the covers up. His gaze remained on the bare walls, wondering if he could find a peaceful slumber that night, but he knew he'd wake up stiff again. Every once in a while, he'd wake up unable to move without any figments of his imagination around. Those were the most difficult, as they felt the most real. Like he had lost the ability to move, and he'd be stuck there, vulnerable, for all eternity.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening with a quiet creak. Although he wanted to snap up and throw a dagger at the intruder, he didn't have the energy too. Besides, he had a feeling he knew who it was, and when he saw the black cloak and familiar mask, he chuckled, a soft smile blessing his face.

"Hey, princess."

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A/N: Fun fact: it's true that many ancient civilizations used sticks to clean up after they used the bathroom. I just learned this recently in my Korean history class. So there you go! There's a fun fact you probably didn't want, but I'm giving you anyway!