The Demon Queen

The Last Meeting

I didn't want to marry anyone else. It made no difference to me what the position of Takahiro's family was or how strong Keiji was. I didn't love them and I didn't even like them.

They were boring, conceited, typical men. They weren't even very handsome, despite what my mother tried to convince me of.

I only wanted to marry him -- my childhood friend and confidant, someone I found to be handsome, intelligent, funny, and hard-working -- Kibutsuji Muzan.

My parents told me -- reminded me, actually -- that Muzan was ill. Very ill. And that he was going to die in a matter of time. Even though he was of the appropriate social standing, coming from a wealthy and rather influential family, he was unfit to be a potential husband for any young woman.

He was going to die. He was born with a heart condition that could not be treated. And, according to my parents, even if he somehow lived a few more years than was expected, he would not be strong enough to provide for me and to care for me. I would be the one to take care of him, support him, and watch his condition deteriorate, until one day his body would fail to serve him. His death would leave me alone, "too old to marry again", without any children. With nothing but the memory of him.

It made me angry how much people doubted Muzan. I was well aware of how ill he was, but still, I somehow believed that his condition would improve. Somehow. And I believed that we could then have a proper life together. Whether it was my loyalty to him and fondness for him that kept me in that illusion, I didn't know. But I refused to face that it was just an illusion.

That day, after arguing with my parents once more about my so-called stubbornness towards choosing a husband, I went over to the Kibutsuji estate. As always, I went through the grounds and made my way over to the window to Muzan's room. The window was usually open, because Muzan wanted the fresh air and sunlight he couldn't experience outdoors. It was open that day, too, and I climbed through.

Muzan was studying. Even though he was ill, he was determined to learn and better himself. He wanted to become a doctor, if he ever was able to overcome his illness.

"Muzan-kun!" I called to him.

His attention immediately directed itself to me. Kneeling in front of the table he was using, he turned around to face my direction. A small and relaxed smile was on his face.

"You look good," I said and approached him.

Muzan held out his hand. "I was waiting for you. I knew you would come today."

I took his hand. He kissed it before I knelt down beside him.

"Sakura ..." His smile faded some. "Your parents?"

I took a deep breath. "They said the same as before."

"I see." He looked down at himself. "I'm sorry that I can't be of more use to you ... and to my family ..."

"It's not your fault."

"It is my fault. It's my fault that I'm weak and a burden to everyone around me --"

"You aren't a --"

He looked at me. "Except you." He stared at me for a moment with pained eyes.

I put my hand on his shoulder and moved some of his long, wavy black hair out of the way. I started to rub his shoulder. "Don't get so upset," I said. "We can figure this out."

Muzan sighed. "You mean to say, don't get upset or you'll overwork your heart."

I was silent.

"It's fine," he said. "I know that's how it is. No matter what I do, I'm sitting at the edge of death."

"There's still a chance --"

He put his hand on top of mine. "Sakura," he said in a serious tone. "I'm very selfish. I've been discussing marriage with you because I love you, but also because when I die, I want you to be there. I'm taking away your time and affection so that I'm with you when it happens."

"I don't mind."

"And I'll confess -- I don't want any of those others to have you. I want you to myself."

"I don't want to be with any of them at all. They're dull and annoying. I could never spend my life with them. I will never marry them. I'm marrying you, no matter what."

Muzan smiled a little. "I'd like to believe that's how it'll be."

"Then believe it, because that is how it's going to be."

He snickered a little. "Did you ever think that perhaps you're the dull one? Being friends so long with the guy with the heart condition?"

He was starting to return to his normal self after the initial few moments of wallowing in his circumstances. That was a good sign.

I lightly tugged at his hair. "You do know that it's more fun being here with you than wandering some stupid gardens with some horse-faced guy who knows nothing more than to talk about himself and what he thinks he's accomplished."

He laughed. "Horse-faced?"

"At least you know more things to talk about than yourself," I said. "And you're better looking than they are."

A slight pinkish tone formed in Muzan's cheeks.

"Even though you're --" I began.

"Even though you're so pale," we finished at the same time and laughed.

Muzan teasingly pinched my nose. "Anyone else but you, anyone else but you and I'd want to throw them against the wall for saying that, my Sakura-chan."

"So you'll annoy me back by treating me like a little kid," I said with a smirk.

"I am older than you," he said.

"By a year."

"One year, one day, it doesn't matter. I can treat you like a little kid," he said. "I'm supposed to protect you, after all, because I'm older. And you're supposed to respect me." He pouted a little. "Reminding me that I'm pale isn't respecting me."

"And this --" I tapped his pouting lip. "Is supposed to earn respect?"

"Or pity," Muzan said with a smirk and put his hands on my waist. "Just call it respect in front of others."

I slid my hands in his hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Now and for eternity."

We kissed, basking in the sunlight shining in through the windows. I felt so warm in the sunshine, held in Muzan's arms as his lips gently met mine. Even though his hold on me was weak, due to his fragile body, he made me feel safer and more cared for than I could imagine anyone else making me feel. Nothing could take that away from me. And nothing would take him away from me.

He belonged to me. I belonged to him.

Later during our time together, before I had to go home, Muzan told me that he'd be seeing a new doctor the following day, and asked me not to come until the early evening. He said that his parents were hoping that the doctor would be of more assistance, since this particular doctor was willing to try experimental medication to treat him. But Muzan said too that he was a bit nervous about trying experimental medication.

He had me promise that I would come. He needed me there in case the treatment went wrong. He repeated that if he died, he wanted me there with him.

I wished that he hadn't given me this information. I began to become scared for Muzan, but I wasn't going to show it to him. I told myself that this treatment would work for him, and I continued to repeat those words to myself, almost like an incantation, a charm to make it come true.

Before I left, I gave Muzan one last kiss, telling him to keep the feeling with him to give him strength the next day. He gave me a hug and promised me that he would be brave and strong for us both, no matter what happens and what he has to face.