The Kingmaker

Goodbye

Bold and beautiful

Tears fall, yet you still shimmer

Embrace your brilliance

The night breeze whispers through the partially open window of Seijuro's chamber, carrying the subtle lilac aroma from the Palace grounds. How the elusive Dancer has slipped past the watchful guards undetected will forever remain a mystery, a feat that even Seijuro, with all his prowess, can never hope to replicate. Yet he silently wishes that Tetsuya, the skilled young assassin who sees himself as a mere tool, would one day realise his true worth.

Nevertheless, Seijuro's heart thuds at a queer speed as Tetsuya slowly approaches him.

"A good evening to His Highness," he greets, bowing with the grace that only someone like him can muster.

"I wasn't informed that a small window was tantamount to a single door." He fixes the collar of his black velvet coat. "Do you fancy my attire? This is from another empire." He pauses, remembering what Midorima had said. "Let me correct myself: It is not referred to as an empire, but rather as a republic, whatever that term means."

Tetsuya utters no words for a moment, until he says, "I do not intend any disrespect, but I do believe His Highness knows what a republic is."

He almost snorts at that. "I cannot hide a thing from you, can I? Well, if you insist, they say a 'republic' is a country run by its people."

"Never have I been in any republic, but that seems unattainable."

"Truly. Midorima said their people had been forced to vote for their next commanders." Even the word "vote" seems out of place coming from his lips. "They were left with no choice. Either it was the current head or the monarch they had ousted. But enough about that. I can see you are slowly losing patience. What brings you here?"

His Eye has always had that blank face, always refusing to show any hints of what is going on in his mind. Mayhaps, it is one of the reasons why it is such a challenge to locate him; to feel that he is already right behind you. Mayhaps, it is how his preys feel before realising their final fate.

Tonight, however, Tetsuya makes no effort to hide his worry.

It's rare for him to see Tetsuya like this. His normally stoic face is contorted in a mixture of confusion, anger, and frustration; his lips are pulled tight into a line as if he wants to say something but cannot figure out how to begin.

In a way, Seijuro wishes that the boy in front of him would go back to his usual facade. He tries to crush it, as his father taught him, but such a feeling that he thought he had buried a long time ago always resurfaces whenever Tetsuya is around.

He can somehow hear his brother's final warning to him before he took his last breath. You will soon learn what it is like to die like our mother, Seijuro.

"Your Highness... how could you not tell me?" It is brief, but Seijuro hears Tetsuya's voice break before he returns to his monotoned one, albeit a bit shaky. "Had I not asked Lord Chen himself, I would have stayed ignorant of your pain."

"Lord Chen?" Something tugs in his heart. If he were being honest with himself, he would say it feels good but is also painful. Before, Tetsuya would never have revealed the name of any person he had spoken with 'less he requested it. Why now? Why now, when it is their final night together?

Seijuro takes a deep breath and walks over to his table. When he determines he is not in the state of mind to sit down, he chooses to face Tetsuya completely. "Do you not find it amusing? He is not a lord, yet we call him one. Who could blame us? He is the minister of rice production. That is good enough for a lordship title," he says. He needn't impede the inevitable, but he would like to delude himself that he and Tetsuya would forget about their duties in the Palace and just talk for once.