it's you [TCF/LCF Fic]

though seein' me

Contribution to the fandom for the 8th November and for KRS/CH/CJS/CJG's B-day as well as everyone else who has their birthday on that day! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

—

The memory loss happens overnight.

Everyone in the Henituse Duchy knows this, because, the day before, the calm and expressionless twenty-one-year old Cale Henituse attended dinner with his family. An event that happens quite frequently nowadays after the White Star's defeat and consequently, Arm's downfall months ago.

Nothing had seemed amiss; the food checked for any short-acting poison as well as long-acting ones, the magic devices and guards dutifully completing their tasks to the letter. This house is the Young Master Silver Shield's family and requires utmost seriousness.

Still, seemingly without alerting any magic device, without any of their expert assassins noticing, the Cale Henituse they knew for the last three years appears no more.

—

"What's the meaning of this," Cale demands, long red hair[1] tied up into a ponytail, a dark scowl painting his expression with more emotion than Deruth is used to.

At the same time, that particular expression feels more familiar than the stoic one his eldest son wore the last few years. That scowl, after all, is the same expression Cale wore since he turned eight-years-old and started 'acting out'. Some would come to call this particular phase even his 'trashy phase'.

As such, Deruth does not struggle to find the words to appease his son, "Cale, let me explain the situation to you."

His son harrumphs, crossing his arms in front of his chest—terribly rude in front of a Duke, the head house-maid who he assigned during Cale's travels sniffs in disapproval—but nods almost imperceptibly. A sigh wants to come out at the terribly familiar behavior which he suppresses with long practice.

And then he begins.

"It's the year 584 of the Felix Calender and you.."

—

The news about the Hero of the Roan Empire losing his memories about all the good deeds he did throughout the years stay within the Henituse Estate and the inner circle of Cale's most trusted friends. At least, that should have happened.

"That man isn't the legend that foiled the devil!" Clopeh, the director and co-founder[7] of the Henituse History Museum, shouts hysterically while he is being dragged away by more than dozens of Henituse knights.

"..The fuck?"

"Young master-nim, that crazy bastard is Clopeh Sekka, a subordinate of yours," Ron explains, smile turning into a sly grin at the incredulous look Cale shoots at him.

"Tsk," the young master hisses, clicking his tongue audibly. "Everything here turned into shit after just three years."

"The current young master-nim is eighteen-years-old instead of the twenty-one-years-old him, after all," he soothes. "When the great Dragons arrive, we'll know what changed young master-nim's state."

Cale's countenance turns thoughtful as he fingers a long lock in front of his face. "Dragons, hm? I'll believe it after I see it. There's no freaking way I suddenly turned into some goody-two-shoes who saved the Roan Kingdom from some kind of evil bastard."

"It's the Roan Empire now, young master-nim."

"An Empire. I need a drink," Cale sighs.

Ron shakes his head and instead tries to hand him a cup of tea. "It's not recommended to be seen right now."