The Other Side of Sorrow

The Weight of the World

The face in the mirror was scared; no, terrified. With wide dark eyes that appeared almost sunken after weeks and months and maybe even years without sleep, and pale features, he looked like death in the flesh. His looks were reflective of how he felt inside, weak and crying.

Dropping his head into his hands, Kai let out a soft sob, his body wracked with the pain of it all. Even years after the events of the Lunar Revolution, Kai still had these jolts of crippling anxiety that left him feeling as if the whole world rested upon his shoulders, and his shoulder alone. Of course, at the time, that had been the actual reality of things, with Kai carrying the fate of humanity in his hands, and failing to protect the people of Earth. But now that burden wasn't quite as heavy— at least, it wasn't supposed to be.

But even now, after there was peace throughout all the lands, and Kai no longer had to deal with the stress of an unbeatable foe and a fatal plague, everything still felt to be too much. It was just... heavy.

Kai shut his eyes and focused on breathing. If the soft inhale-exhaling of his lungs was all he thought about, it would be okay. If he could manage to gain control over that single bodily function, as if it were his only job in the world, perhaps then he could think about other things.

Gradually, his breathing slowed to a normal pace, though his thoughts continued to follow the pattern like a creature amidst the waves of the ocean. It was a steady thing, but a moment of wavering could cost him his breath.

Once he was sure that nothing could stop the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he dared to let his thoughts wander to the feel of the cool porcelain sink beneath his fingertips, and the way the air conditioning above him played with the fine tendrils of his hair. He wondered at the way his left sock felt slightly wadded beside his pinky toe, and the looseness of his pants despite them being tailored specifically to fit him.

After thinking of all the things around him, Kai dared to open his eyes once more and stare down the face in the mirror. It didn't look frightened as before, but simply exhausted— as if it hadn't ever known the action of sleep.

He turned on the sink, cupping his hands beneath the steady stream of water, and wetting his face with it. He allowed the cold liquid to revive his features, opening his eyes to the world and bringing a bit of color to his cheeks. The effect of the water was almost magical in its ability to revive him from a skeletal corpse to Emperor Kaito of the Eastern Commonwealth. He was tired, but now it looked to be only the weariness of caring for so many people, rather than carrying the weight of the world upon one's shoulders.

Turning off the faucet, Kai picked up a fresh white towel and dried his face. A few stray strands of hair were wet from the whole experience, but Kai didn't bother to try drying them with the towel; in minutes they would hardly be damp anymore.

Kai gave himself one last look in the mirror, smiling at himself in an attempt to convince himself that he hadn't just had a panic attack in his bathroom. Because if Kai understood one thing, it was that no one took an anxious leader seriously; he didn't have the luxury of displaying his true emotions to anyone— not even his most trusted advisors.

Because even after all the trauma he'd undergone, the Emperor had to remain untouched and unfazed by the world. He was the face of the country, and a face full of terror would never be one greeted by respect.

***

"Kai," Cinder called out, watching him as he exited the bathroom. He jumped at the sound of her voice, surprised by it even though she'd lived with him for over three weeks now.

"Hi," Kai smiled, walking over to his— their— bed and laying down flat on his stomach, head propped up in his hands. Cinder sat on her side of the bed, still dressed in her regal finery, despite being done with her meetings for the day. It was only three in the afternoon, but the majority of her work consisted of looking over paperwork and signing documents these days. At least, it would be that way before she had the responsibilities of being Empress.

Cinder set down her stack of paper on the bedside table and reached forward to run a hand through Kai's hair. He leaned into the touch, his nerves instantly soothing with her gentle caress. It was almost magical how being in her presence made him feel as if everything would be okay. Because with her by his side, the world didn't rest solely upon his shoulders.

"Your hair's wet," Cinder tittered, playing with the frontmost strands of his hair as if it were the greatest mystery of the world. Kai froze with her words, but she said nothing further on the situation.

She didn't know about his panic attacks. No one in the world did, though Kai suspected that Torin had guessed at Kai's immense stress, observant as he was. It wasn't that Kai didn't want to share this piece of him, seeing how he'd helped her through her own mental battles over the past couple years. But he didn't want to disappoint her— for her to find him weak. After all, it made sense that she was hurt, with all the trauma of leading a revolution. Kai had done so little in comparison to her— suffered so much less. He felt like a fraud in admitting his own pain.

Kai grabbed her hand and pulled it down to rest against his lips, closing his eyes at the feel of her. It felt as if nothing could hurt him so long as he could know that she was there.

"You okay?" Cinder asked, moving her body closer to Kai, but never taking her hand from him. He nodded, though kept his eyes closed shut. He hoped that the nonverbal communication wouldn't set off her lie detector.

Cinder let out a soft hum, but didn't say another word. She moved until she was parallel beside him, though she rested on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Kai kept hold of her hand, though he pulled it away from his mouth and ran his fingers over her palm, memorizing the lines of it.

"You know," Cinder started, sounding almost hesitant. "If you weren't okay, you could tell me."

"I know," Kai said, almost immediately, his body tensing.

"I just–" Cinder turned to her side, facing Kai with a determined look on her face. "I just feel like sometimes you have this sort of wall up," Cinder said. "Like you're trying to protect yourself from something."

Cinder stole her hand away from Kai, propping it beneath her head. But before he could miss her touch, her cool metal fingers rested against his back, tracing unknown patterns against his dress shirt.

"You already know I'm not invincible," Cinder mumbled, the words almost melancholy. "I just want you to know that I don't expect you to be. You're human, Kai, just like the rest of us. Emperor or not."

Kai's eyes began to sting, but the words were comforting. Of course Cinder would understand him, despite all their differences. They had been there for one another through all the worst moments, and built each other back up afterwards. She was a constant pillar of hope in his life; without her, he would not fall.

He considered telling her about just how much pain he was in, but the thought sent him tumbling into that dark place that panic attacks were born out of. He didn't have the mental capacity to deal with another breakdown today.

"I have to go do some work," Cinder said, leaning forward to press a kiss to Kai's cheek. "I'll see you at dinner."

Kai mumbled a goodbye, listening to her footsteps as they walked away, and feeling that cold chill creep back into his chest without her there. And suddenly, the weight of the world was back on his shoulders.