There is silence for several beats and Akito is quite sure that he's about to get smacked or something. He'd spoken too much, said such embarrassing things, he's sure that somehow he's offended the other man. Then, there is a shift, and he freezes completely, not even daring to breath. His finely tuned senses tell him that the prince is moving closer and he braces for an angry swing. His breath leaves him in a rush however as when at last Hiro speaks up and he can feel himself shaking slightly. [i]'He's. . . . .Glad?'[/i]

His arms settle completely atop his head, his face still hidden, as he listens to Hironori recount his trip to another country. He's a little lost for a moment as to why the man is bringing it up, but it soon becomes clear as he talks about how the princess was viewed, and how she viewed herself. [i]'It's never seemed right to me either. . .'[/i] He swallows, listening, hoping that this all means that he's no reason to let the earth take him. He can feel a little proud that the prince has never seen himself the same way, given that he must have known from the moment the war started that he would be forced to wed the “champion” of it. He flushes again, shaking his head mentally at the title given him for his actions during the war.

The touch to his shoulder makes him flinch, but he does eventually begin lowering his arms slowly, his cheeks still bright red behind the slightly ashamed look on his face. “It's always been a mystery to me why anyone would think that way. I mean, I know my company doesn't see women as lesser, and that they didn't mean any harm in what they said about you, but it's always felt, just, off, to even talk like that when it's clearly not what you actually think, you know?” He coughs, tucking his hands in opposite sleeves.

“I mean, I know several of them who have partners they want to get back to, and others that met women and men they have every intention of seeking out after the war, but the way they talk about both has always dependent on how they see themselves standing in the relationship, and it's just been odd. I mean, most of the time they'd talk about how they “scored a good one” but other times they were more humble and said stuff like “I can't believe such a person would take me” and, it's just so strange, you know?” He catches that he's rambling and clear his throat again.

“I know how the tradition goes, and that this is entirely not how it is for most people, and that it must have been no fun for you thinking you'd get someone like one of those men you'd met. But, I'm glad that you don't have to put up with that, even if it mean you have to put up with someone as plain and pathetic as I am.” He flushes deeper. “I mean, I babble, I freak out just being in the palace, and I can barely even speak around your parents, and I ramble on about silly things, and my partner keeps crawling all over you without warning, and I am so pathetic my own words make me wish I could vanish down the nearest hole. . .” He stares at his hands, still overly embarrassed but at least now he seems willing to talk. “You deserve someone better. . .” he adds in a whisper, sighing and looking off over the pond.