Fates Entwined (A TodoBaku ff) ✔

LXVII

Shoto was put on bed-rest for the next few days. Ochako visited him often, giving him different medicines and potions, seeming happy each time she noticed he was healing quickly. His friends took turns bringing him his meals if Katsuki was busy, sitting and chatting with him about their warriors and how the forest edge was slowly regrowing new life after suffering from Enji's attacks, the slow seeping in of spring helping sprout new flora and fauna. Even though he and his father battled in a wide and open space, it seemed their powers grew wild and scorched some of the bordering trees. His friends never failed to bring up their awe at seeing his fire power, and made him promise to train with them once he was feeling better. Seeing not a trace of fear in their eyes helped ease the ache in his chest, making him feel warmer, like his icy facade was melting away little by little.

During the hours he spent alone, when everyone was busy helping their tribes or healing their warriors, Shoto spent a lot of time lost in his thoughts, perusing them slowly and pulling up the deepest ones in hopes of better understanding his current situation. There were times his thoughts became blurry and heavy, like Atlas holding the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet when he looked down at his aching hands all he saw was deep red blood, hot and suffocating. He'd drag his hands over his bedsheets, wiping the invisible blood away, sometimes leaving small burns or frost trails along the material, but it was as if the blood was always there in the corner of his eye, splattered on the ground or buried under his fingernails. At least here in Katsuki's room he could distract himself with books or the beautiful view of spring beginning to bloom beyond the balcony windows, but even that couldn't stop the red shadows that haunted him. 

Katsuki had returned after a long day of meetings with the different leaders, their allies turned friends. They were drafting up new treaties that would be signed once Shoto became king, and whilst that was both a thrilling and daunting thought in itself it was comforting to know he had people who would support him and his desire for peace, both now and in the future. Katsuki had returned looking tired, but didn't fail in making them a fresh pot of Oolong tea, the slightly sweet yet earthy tones helping lift their spirits, alongside some biscuits Masaru had brought during his visit to Shoto earlier that afternoon. 

"Ochako said I should be able to start walking around tomorrow," he began when Katsuki sat on the other side of the bed, one leg bent so their knees knocked together, "so I can be more useful from now on."

"Just because you're not burning and freezing every other minute doesn't mean you're perfectly healthy. Besides, you don't need to be useful, idiot, you're not some tool."

"Ah, right." He took a sip of his tea, noticing there was some red trapped in the creases of his hand. Sighing, he wiped it on the blanket before Katsuki reached out and took it within his own hand, grip tight. He noticed there was a frown on Katsuki's face and asked what was wrong. 

"You keep doing that." Katsuki made a vague gesture to Shoto's hands. "Wiping them like they're dirty or some shit."

"I..." Shoto paused, trying to find the right words to say in order for Katsuki to not think him a madman. "I keep seeing-" he frowned, tightening his grip on Katsuki's hand, "I see... him. All of the time. He's there, choking and bleeding in the shadows behind the curtains, his blood practically dyed into my skin... and it just won't go away." His voice sounded raw, almost desperate, wondering if he would ever move on from his actions. If he would come to regret his decision, driving him insane. 

"Sometimes," Katsuki began quietly, an expression of vulnerability on his face, "I have nightmares about my sword cutting a little too deep, the screams on the battlefield. I see my people bathed in blood, and I carry the guilt of those lives we lost in my heart everyday."

Shoto shuffled closer so their legs pressed together, and lay his head atop Katsuki's shoulder in silent comfort. He could feel the man's shaky breaths and uneven heartbeat, and wondered who Katsuki had to turn to to share these troubles of this, the troubles of a young king carrying the sorrows of his people.