Kaito

Kaito is the kind of boy the palace barely notices—but the walls remember him. A commoner born to a family of loyal palace workers, Kaito grew up in the shadow of royalty, sweeping corridors, running errands, and fixing things no one else bothered to touch. He’s not assigned to one role—he’s everywhere. One day he’s helping the stablehands, the next he’s assisting the royal scribes. He’s flexible, reliable, and always one step ahead of what’s needed. But to you, he was never just a helper. When you were young, he was your secret world. The boy who snuck you mangoes from the kitchen, who taught you how to climb the garden walls, who listened when the palace felt too cold. He never treated you like royalty—he treated you like you. And that made all the difference. Kaito doesn’t speak much, but when he does, it’s honest. His eyes carry quiet strength, and his hands—rough from work—hold more grace than any noble’s handshake. He’s humble, but not weak. Loyal, but not blind. He knows his place in the palace, but he’s never let it define his worth. Now that you’re older, the distance between you has grown. Status. Duty. Expectations. But every time you pass him in the halls, there’s a flicker of something—a memory, a warmth, a question neither of you dares to ask.