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For once, Jamil is glad for Kalim's platitudes like “You did your best” and “We'll get them in the next” because these might be the sincerest things he's been told so far today. The loss might not have been only his fault – for some reason, NRC students seem to fall over themselves to lose against RSA – but some part of it is. Perhaps he should have taken Leona's words more to heart instead of shaking them off as soon as they were out of S.T.Y.X., but a lifetime habit of underestimating people who thought lowly of his ability doesn't go away in a few months worth of time.
He thought he'd understood after that dream where Kalim dared to challenge him to a fight how even someone like him could make a change, but maybe that was simply the satisfaction of letting loose speaking.
“Jamil, wanna take a break? The cafeteria is open between matches!”
“Kalim, you… No, you're right, I should take a break. Thanks.”
“Wow, you're thanking me? Maybe it'll snow in Scarabia tonight– ouch!”
He's grateful to Kalim to a degree but that idiot is taking advantage of his kindness – a kick to the shin silences him. The seating area isn't covered in cameras like the inside of the event’ zones are, so there's no risk of this being seen by anyone back at home. With a sigh, he drags Kalim outside where groups of students are walking around, taking a breather after watching a tense confrontation between the rival schools. A few of their classmates and juniors wave at them, calling out to Jamil after his performance, but he ignores them, preferring to head toward the back of the school building. Given that it was some distance away from the stadium, it was quite deserted with only a few stragglers wandering there.
“You wanted to get something to drink? You should have told me, I’d have whipped up some water or something.”
Behind him, Kalim continues a conversation that doesn't go anywhere but the distraction is more than welcome as they walk to an isolated vending machine that few people know about even among the NRC students – an oasis of peacefulness. Only–
“Ah! Minajael!”
There's already someone here, fingers folded under his chin as he leans in to look at what the machine is offering. When he hears his name, he turns toward them, his gaze more analytical than anything before smiling.
“Kalim, it's been a while,” he says as he pushes a button to indicate the drink he wants. “Jamil, good work out there.”
They might be cousins, Jamil can't say they’re much alike in terms of temperament. His assessment of Minajael has considerably changed in the span of the last two hours – before, he was simply a spoiled and pampered little boy unaware of the world, much like Kalim, but that was an oversight – in parts due to the defeat he just went through. Underestimating him has been his greatest mistake in the Relic's Labyrinth event, leading to NRC losing by a large margin – though Azul and the others were also at fault for not taking their RSA opponents seriously.
Jamil can't find any mockery in Minajael's tone but there's also nothing resembling the honest joy Kalim would say these words to him with either. It's too neutral, too sterile to feel like anything but rehearsed lines from someone who's used to winning.
“No, I should be the one congratulating you,” he replies, certain that his voice sounds as strained to Minajael's and Kalim's ears as it does to his. “That was a magnificent win, Minajael-senpai.”
Besides him, Kalim adds a chipper “NRC will win the next one, you'll see!”
“I look forward to it. Sorry, did you want something? I'll pay for you given you're my juniors.”
“Thanks!”
“We aren't even in the same school– Whatever. Kalim will take the strawberry milk and I'll get a cola, please.”
Minajael pauses for a second, glancing between them before he pushes a few buttons. “Can't Kalim choose by himself?”
“I–”
”Jamil knows what I like so it's fine,” Kalim interrupts. “I trust him.”
“If you say so.”
The silent stretches between them as Minajael pays for the drinks and the machine roars alive, making two drinks – a carton of strawberry milk and a plastic bottle – fall. Without a word, Minajael hands their orders to them and he leans against the wall to open the bright orange can he bought just before.
“But it's really been a while, huh?” Kalim pierces the carton with a cardboard straw. “Must be pretty busy at the palace now that you're only here during the holidays.”
Minajael takes a sip of his drink. “It's as usual. They bother me even when I'm not at home anyway.”
“Really? I thought they'd let you have fun while at school…”
“Not really.”
The conversation is quieter than Jamil would have expected – he remembers them being more effusive, more appreciative of each other (even if Kalim still sounds plenty fond of him) the rare times he saw Minajael as a child which is why his image of the prince had been so outdated before the match. Come to think of it, that prince Rielle might have been a closer match to Kalim in personality than Minajael ever was…
He opens his bottle, letting the gas come out of the bottleneck before taking a swig – it's refreshing enough, the carbonation tickling his tongue. There's not much he can say while his master and his cousin talk – it's another world he is privy to but can never truly understand – so he sits down on the grass and drinks silently. To be quite honest, he doesn't particularly want to butt in anyway – he's talked to the prince enough for at least a few years – so he distractedly listens.
“Dad says your marriage has still not been decided. Everyone’s getting pretty impatient.”
Minajael clicks his tongue and the can in his hand makes an unpleasant metallic sound. “They're trying to make me agree to their conditions in choosing someone,” he spits out. “I'm not doing that.”
“I see! It's hard being a prince, huh.”
“Likewise, Kalim. Weren't you supposed to already be betrothed by now?”
Kalim hands his milk to Jamil so he can taste it – force of habit, it's hard tampering with a vending machine, especially when Kalim never comes here anyway so nobody would use that to target him anyway – and their fingers brush against each other. Strangely enough, Kalim's fingers are a touch colder than usual; Jamil takes a sip before handing the strawberry milk back to Kalim who thanks him silently.
“No, I was told it's still a little too early for me,” he answers finally. “Well, I don't even know if I'll be welcoming a harem or not in the first place!”
There's a pause during which Minajael leans away from the wall to stretch. “You know, I thought you'd be more like your grandmother. Ditching everything and marrying whoever. You always liked sneaking out as a kid, like what she did.”
There's a hint of disappointment in his voice that he doesn't even bother masking.
“Minajael-senpai, Kalim didn't sneak out as much as you did and he was accompanied most of the time.”
“Oh yeah, you were here with him too.”
“Jamil wouldn't let me go out without him!”
To Kalim, these are joyous memories but Jamil doesn't think much of them. It's just that things would have been harder on him if he let Kalim go.
“You sure are overdoing it work-wise, Jamil.”
There's an unsaid “Were you ordered to do this?” that clings to the prince's words that Kalim doesn't seem to have noticed but Jamil has. And that's why he keeps silent, opting to drink more of his cola without interfering any further. The Scalding Sands' laws might be old and deprecated but nothing there says anything about a servant having to go above and beyond for his master and, frankly, Jamil wouldn't do it anyway… But Minajael is right. He's been overdoing it – everyone is aware of it, even Kalim who's slow on the uptake – though he can't attribute all these efforts to his diligent nature only. It's just that he serves Kalim. If it were anyone else, perhaps he would have ditched them a long time ago, using his Unique Magic to get away with it, but it's Kalim.
And, really, Jamil has always thought that it was a shame. If his master had been anyone not named and shaped like Kalim, he wouldn't have felt like sticking with them all this time, not shared breaks or snacks with them, not going out at night, nothing. People often say he's doing too much but if it hadn't been Kalim, it wouldn't have been like this. In another world, in another universe where Kalim didn't exist, Jamil's magic-induced dream wouldn't have allowed his master to appear in any role at all, dismissing them entirely.
It's a frustrating feeling to dwell on even if he knows Kalim return it – if it had been anyone but Jamil as his servant, he wouldn’t have turned the way he did.
His cola has gone soft, now almost lukewarm as he ruminates on his thoughts, now more irritated than when he left the stadium. But Minajael and Kalim are still talking and he can't leave them alone so he stays.
“By the way, why are you here? It's pretty isolated! I don't think most students know about this place.”
“I asked very nicely,” Minajael says with a wink, “and someone showed me that place.”
Well, NRC students are weak to their RSA's counterparts' energy, everybody knows that. Obviously, with Minajael's ability to captivate people, it's easy to see how he seduced his way through the school grounds… In that way, the cousins are similar. Jamil prefers Kalim still.
“You're good at making friends, Minajael! No wonder you're so popular back home.”
Yeah, with gossip rags maybe.
“You think? Your reputation outshines mine, though. You're the country darling, aren't you?”
“Am I? A prince like you is better suited for that! Ah, I'm serious! I'm not joking at all!”
“Nah, you are. After all, you've got a pretty face and you diligently appear in stead of your father for important ceremonies, unlike me.”
“The king…”
“No, let's stop talking about that. Sorry, I was the one to bring it up in the first place.”
“It's fine, I get it! What about your pet tiger? Did you bring it to RSA with you?”
Minajael nods and takes out his phone from his pocket. “It's sleeping in the dorm's gardens right now. Here.”
Kalim sits next to Jamil to watch videos of a big tiger on his cousin's phone with Minajael standing nearby, commenting on the action. Their shoulders knock against each other when Kalim turns toward Jamil to show him the new trick Minajael's tiger has just learned – though Jamil was watching it over his shoulder – and the tension he felt in his shoulders all this time melts a little. After all, this kind of heavy atmosphere doesn’t suit Kalim at all.
This conversation was far from pleasant – there's a wall between Jamil and them, another between Kalim and Minajael – but the prince's bitterness doesn't seem to be directed toward his cousin or his servant. He might dislike traditions and suffocating rules as much as Jamil does, a stark contrast to Kalim who accepts them as they're dictated to him without asking, but he hasn't taken it out against his cousin so Jamil doesn't have anything to say against it… For now.
The future of their country sounds interesting between a prince who wants to reform it all and an heir who follows traditional ways… But now isn't the time for this – Jamil leans in to steal some of Kalim's strawberry milk before his master can react and Kalim whines about it, asking for a sip of Jamil’s cola as compensation. He grimaces at the already stale taste and even Minajael smiles at his antics. It’s a little too peaceful compared to a few seconds ago but Jamil inwardly thanks Kalim for this.