The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the windows, its light brushing the edges of your room as you stirred from your sleep. The warmth of the blankets around you cocooned you for a moment, but as your senses sharpened, a peculiar detail caught your attention. The faint gleam of your crown rested on a fine linen pillow beside you, its weight a reminder of a responsibility you often wished you could set aside. But then, a movement caught your eye.

A figure sat in the chair by your bedside, and when you turned, you frowned. White hair, pale skin, and piercing clear blue eyes. You recognized him immediately, even before he spoke.

"There you are, sister," Satoru said, his voice soft in a way that made you blink in surprise. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said at the meeting."

Your brows furrowed, and for a moment, you wondered if you were still half-dreaming. Satoru... apologizing? For anything? That was unheard of. He was many things—playful, teasing, and occasionally reckless—but he was never one to back down from a joke or take responsibility for his words.

You stared at him, blinking, your mind scrambling to catch up. "You're sorry?" you repeated, still caught off guard. "Since when do you apologize, Onii-san?"

Satoru chuckled softly, but there was a warmth in his expression, an openness that was rare for him. His usual cocky grin was nowhere to be found. "I'm not perfect, you know," he said, leaning forward a little in the chair. His gaze was steady, and for once, the playful edge in his eyes seemed absent. "I didn't mean to make things harder for you. I was just messing around, but... I get it. I've got a lot to learn about timing."

You blinked again, trying to process his words. This wasn't the Satoru you knew—the one who always teased and pushed your buttons without a second thought. The one who liked to stir the pot just to see what happened. No, this was something different, something... genuine.

"Why now?" you asked, your voice softer, your suspicion giving way to confusion. "Why apologize for that, especially after everything? You've never really cared about my throne before."

Satoru's expression softened further, and for the first time, there was a hint of vulnerability in his usually unflappable demeanor. "I've been thinking about it, alright? About you, about us... everything." He glanced away, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of the chair as though trying to organize his thoughts. "I see how much pressure you're under, and I know I give you a hard time, but it's not because I don't respect you. It's the opposite, actually. You're carrying something I never could, and sometimes, I forget how heavy it is for you."

You watched him, feeling a quiet surprise tug at your heart. He was always so confident, so assured in everything he did. Yet here he was, admitting to something more than just his usual brashness.

"I didn't mean to make you feel alone in this," he added, his voice lower now, almost apologetic. "If you ever need me to step up, you know I will."

For a moment, the world seemed to still around you, the weight of his words settling in the space between you. The crown on the pillow beside you, the throne, all of it felt so distant, so unimportant in the face of what Satoru had just said. Maybe, just maybe, he understood more than you had given him credit for.

You didn't know what to say at first. It wasn't like you to let your guard down so easily, but there was something about his sincerity that made it hard to hold onto your usual walls.

After a long pause, you let out a small sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. "Thank you, Satoru," you said, your voice softer now, less guarded. "I... I guess I don't always know how to handle everything, but it's good to know you're not just messing around. You really mean that, don't you?"

He smiled, and for once, it wasn't a mischievous grin—it was something warmer, more genuine. "Of course, I do. It's about time I started acting like a real brother, huh?"

You couldn't help but return the smile, just a little. Maybe there was hope for him after all, even if his version of "acting like a real brother" still included a few too many jokes. But right now, that was enough.

You smiled softly, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away. "Thank you, Onii-san."

Satoru returned the smile, his usual mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't mention it." Then, without warning, he pulled you into a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His embrace was warm, sincere—nothing like the playful jabs he usually tossed your way. "It's time someone helped you with your weighty responsibilities now. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are waiting for you in the saloon."

You blinked, the mention of the Jedi masters instantly pulling you from the quiet moment into the reality of the day ahead. You nodded, taking a deep breath as the weight of your duties settled back onto your shoulders. It was a constant push and pull—your desire to be free of it all, balanced against the knowledge that you couldn't abandon it.

Standing, you straightened up, mentally preparing yourself for the upcoming meeting. Then, with a flick of your fingers, you summoned the power within you. The fabric of reality obeyed, and a sleek, elegant black dress materialized around you. The delicate fabric shimmered slightly as it settled into place, hugging your figure in all the right ways—sophisticated, but powerful.

Satoru let out an exaggerated whistle, his eyes widening as he took in the transformation. "Man, sis, I see why we're related," he teased, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and playful awe.

You raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "It's not just for show, you know. Sometimes the clothes have to match the responsibility."

He grinned, leaning against the doorframe, his usual carefree energy returning. "You make responsibility look good, that's for sure."

With that, you gave him one last look—a silent reassurance that you were ready to face whatever came next. And as you turned toward the saloon, where Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were likely waiting with their patient Jedi wisdom, you couldn't help but feel just a little bit lighter. Maybe, with a little help from your brother, you'd be able to carry this weight after all.

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You entered the grand chandelier salon, where light shimmered in every direction. Countless chandeliers adorned the high ceiling, each holding candles flickering with blue fire. The glow was ethereal, almost otherworldly, casting a soft blue hue across the room. It was the perfect setting for a meeting that always felt a little more like an art form than a discussion—especially when it involved Jedi.

As you entered, you smiled at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, both of whom turned toward you. Today, you wore a pair of sleek, dark sunglasses, a sharp departure from your usual blindfold. The change in your appearance was subtle, yet striking, and as you looked over the top of the glasses, both Jedi stopped in their tracks.

Your eyes—those eyes—were not what they expected. They were like staring at the sun and the moon at once: an impossible, mesmerizing combination of warmth and mystery. They were piercing, yet deeply calming, like the kind of sight that could both blind and soothe in an instant. The two Jedi exchanged a brief, almost imperceptible glance, each catching their breath as if they had been struck by the power they couldn't entirely comprehend.

Qui-Gon, ever the composed one, was the first to regain his poise. His hands, large and steady, clasped together as he bowed his head respectfully. "Ah, you look splendid, Your Highness," he said, his voice warm but tempered by awe, a compliment carefully chosen.

You chuckled lightly, a sound that seemed to lift the tension in the air, and gracefully walked toward him. With a playful glint in your eyes, you took his outstretched hand, squeezing it gently. "Oh, please, Master Qui-Gon, call me Y/N. We're friends, aren't we?"

The moment the words left your lips, there was a shift. Qui-Gon's expression softened, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. There was no denying the respect he held for you—not only as royalty but as someone who carried a power unlike any he had encountered. Still, it was rare for anyone to remind him that the formalities were, at times, just that—formalities.

Obi-Wan, standing quietly by the side, seemed to stifle a grin. "Perhaps one day, we'll get used to that, Y/N," he said, his voice laced with dry humor. His brow furrowed slightly as he adjusted his stance, clearly impressed but doing his best to maintain the calm demeanor he so often projected.

You grinned at Obi-Wan, then shifted your gaze back to Qui-Gon. "I trust the journey was smooth? No sandstorms or surprise battles with pirates this time?" you asked, your tone light but with an underlying sincerity that spoke of your genuine interest in their well-being.

Qui-Gon smiled, a glint of fondness in his eyes. "No such disruptions, Your Highness—though you know better than anyone that peace is always the exception, not the rule."

You nodded, leaning against the marble table at the center of the salon. "If peace were easy, I wouldn't have so many people calling me Your Highness, would I?" you said with a knowing smile.

Obi-Wan's lips quirked upward. "Indeed, your reputation precedes you. It's not just your eyes that make you... unforgettable."

You raised an eyebrow, letting the words sink in before giving him a look that could only be described as playful. "Careful, Master Obi-Wan, I'll have to start charging for compliments," you teased, letting the mood shift into something lighter.

Qui-Gon chuckled under his breath, clearly appreciative of the ease with which you navigated the tension that sometimes surrounded discussions of power. "You're a difficult one to predict, Y/N," he said with a glint of humor in his own voice.

"That's how I like it," you responded with a shrug, straightening up. "Keeps people on their toes."

Obi-Wan met your eyes for a moment before speaking again, a more serious note creeping into his tone. "We have matters to discuss, Your Highness, but first... may I ask you about your eyes?"

The shift in his voice wasn't lost on you, and you smiled again, this time a little more thoughtfully. "Ah, these? They're a part of me, just as much as anything else. But I suppose you'll want to know more about the how than the what, won't you?"

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Indeed, it's not every day that we encounter such... unique abilities."

You met their gaze with unwavering confidence, your sunglasses still perched delicately on your nose. "Well, if you want to talk about it, I'll need a little more than a salon full of chandeliers," you said, her voice playful but knowing. "Perhaps something a little more... intimate."

You smiled, feeling the subtle warmth of the moment. "Now then, why did you call me down here? Are the rooms to your liking, the food?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Your head tilted slightly, and your white braided hair cascaded over your shoulders, the strands gleaming softly in the chandelier light.

"They're fine," Qui-Gon responded with a gentle laugh. "All's fine, it's just that we have to go to Tatooine for parts for our ship."

You pouted, your expression mirroring your brother's trademark playful charm. "You're leaving so soon? Aww, I was hoping to get to know you two better," you said, lips curling into a teasing smile.

Obi-Wan shifted slightly, his cheeks flushing a bit under your gaze. "Why don't you come with us, Your Highness? I'm sure your brother can take care of the palace here."

You hummed thoughtfully, considering the suggestion. It would be nice to escape the palace for a while, to be free from the weight of responsibility, even if only for a brief moment. You glanced at Qui-Gon, who seemed to nod ever so slightly in approval. The decision was starting to feel a lot easier than you expected.

"Well," you began, a smile tugging at your lips, "that could work. I'm sure Satoru's more than capable of taking care of the throne for a while. He'd make a great leader, after all." You paused, then added with a smirk, "Let him do what he's been dying to do for ages."

You nodded, a plan forming in your mind. "I'll ask him," you said, already thinking of how to bring it up.

Just as you stood, preparing to make your way to find Satoru, there was a sudden burst of energy as the door to the salon swung open. The taller, white-haired figure of your brother appeared in the doorway, his usual cocky grin lighting up his face. His blindfold—mysteriously glowing—was pushed up just enough to reveal his gleaming eyes.

"You needn't ask, sister," Satoru said, his voice smooth, confident, and somehow still infused with that unmistakable warmth. "I heard every word." He winked, taking a few steps toward you with that unmistakable swagger. "Of course, I'll be your deputy for now and lead your kingdom." He paused, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'll make sure things go smoothly here—don't worry. Plus, you'll have fun. It's not every day I get to take over."

He reached out, pinching your cheeks with a playful yet affectionate gesture. "Ah, I'm so happy for you," he added, a grin that was part pride, part mischief, tugging at his lips.

You couldn't help but laugh, the familiar sound of his teasing echoing in the room. "You're impossible," you said with a smile, though the genuine warmth in your voice was unmistakable. "Fine, fine. I'll take you up on that, Onii-san. But if the palace turns into chaos while I'm gone, I'm blaming you."

Satoru's grin widened, and he gave a mock salute. "I wouldn't dream of causing chaos. I'm the model deputy. Everything will be perfect," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm but also genuine care for you.

Obi-Wan chuckled quietly, glancing at Qui-Gon, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing, clearly accustomed to the dynamic between you and your brother.

"Well then," Qui-Gon said, taking a step forward, "if that's settled, we can prepare to leave. It seems we have an adventure ahead of us."

You nodded, feeling a lightness you hadn't expected. Maybe this trip to Tatooine would be exactly what you needed—a brief escape from the palace, a chance to breathe, and perhaps even an opportunity to learn more about the Jedi, the galaxy beyond your kingdom, and your own strength.

But for now, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment, knowing that, for once, you could trust your brother to handle things in your absence. After all, with Satoru at the helm, what could possibly go wrong?