The King is Dead

Close Aides

Everything here is being separated in his mind into checkpoints. Each raised tile he passes, and he's even closer to his destination. Each doorframe or archway since he left the dorms seems like a victory.

Room 315.

It's daunting, thinking about entering. What does he say, and what does he expect from her?

"I killed your husband."

Rei looks at him with shock, fearful eyes raking over his form. She hasn't seen him since he was five, and now her son is a murderer.

What if she's scared?

What if she thinks he's come for her as well? With both parents out of his life, he'll have nothing to haunt him, right?

Wrong.

They'll still talk in his brain and tell him to do the things he does. Hide, cut, starve. It seems like his brain's been taken over by father, and if Mother took over too, he'd go completely insane.

He's a bit worried that upon his entering, he'll drift. His mother has always been a sore subject for him to focus on. He kind of... forgot about her. For a long time. Years, probably.

But maybe he'll be more aware, and maybe she'll forgive him. For causing her insanity and for killing father. She'll forgive him for forgetting about her, and for not saving her from her abuser. From his abuser. They share an abuser, the same abuse stories, except hers ended abruptly and she got the help she deserved.

His right hand slides under his left sleeve, scratching at the itching cuts he's been making. He lets them heal only to make more, unproductive. Father punished him like this, maybe he was giving Shouto the answers for what to do when he feels the need to be in trouble. Scolding doesn't work.

He moves his hand to the door handle, resting it there for a second before turning it. He has to come in sometime, and he's already here. He's already marked the checkpoints, this is the last one.

...

Even her silhouette seems beautiful. She looks fuller, healthier from where he can see her back. Her hair is shiny and thicker than before, the ends are trimmed neatly and not split like they used to be. She's kept her hair long, nearly to her elbows.

He missed her. It seems unreal to even be standing here now.

For ten years, he thought she'd either been dead or ran away out of the country just to be away from him. For ten years nobody told him she was in the same city, getting better. Becoming herself again.

It's been ten fucking years, and he still hasn't thought of what to say to her.

He flinches when her head turns slowly, and her hand raises to her mouth when she sees him. The two just stare at each other, the same way Natsuo stared at him when they reunited.

God, this is real. This isn't one of his stupid fantasy memories. She's here and her heart is beating and he's here and his heart is beating all too quickly. It's all too much and just enough and-

"Shouto," she utters, and he's missed the sound of his name coming from the person who protected him and hurt him, and tried to save him.

"I can leave, if you want," he says. Just in case. Because she might not want him here. His face is what set her off before, but now that she's marred it, it should be perfect. Everything she did was intentionally meaningful. She had a reason to scar him, so she could look at him without being scared. He's perfect now. In her vision, he has to be perfect, otherwise, he's been living for ten years with a huge mark that meant nothing.