The Ice Queen and The Dark Prince

prince of darkness/the crown

Run found Minatiro lying motionless against a tree, his body bruised, battered, and covered with injuries. His breathing was shallow, barely perceptible. With urgency, Run knelt down, pressing his fingers lightly against Minatiro's neck. A faint, weak pulse thrummed beneath his skin. Barely alive.

He wasted no time and gently lifted Minatiro's body, flying back to the Jaegers' base as fast as he could.

When he entered the medical room, the Jaegers looked on with mixed expressions. Seryu clenched her fists, a dark look in her eyes as she stood by Koro. Kurome kept a careful distance, her usual nonchalance replaced with a solemn frown, while Wave paced anxiously.

"He's alive," Run said, barely above a whisper. "But his pulse is weak... I don't know how long he'll last."

Esdeath, who had been sitting off to the side, watching them all with cold intensity, stood up. She strode toward Minatiro's motionless form, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the extent of his injuries. Then she turned to the others.

"Everyone, leave the room," she ordered, her tone sharp and unyielding.

Wave looked like he wanted to argue but caught the ice-cold glare in Esdeath's eyes and thought better of it. One by one, they filed out, leaving Esdeath alone with Minatiro. As soon as they were gone, she raised her hand, encasing the entire room in thick, impenetrable ice.

The sound of cracking ice echoed briefly, then silence settled over the room.

Esdeath stood over Minatiro's body, her icy blue eyes scanning him for any sign of life. She knew his body was strong, and he had survived countless battles before. But now... his fate hung by a thread. Her hands clenched into fists as she looked down at him.

"If you die here..." she whispered, her voice hardening with anger, "then you were weak."

But even as she said it, something inside her faltered. She glanced away, her brow furrowing. Why did she feel this way? She had seen countless comrades and enemies fall in battle, had even relished in the carnage at times. Yet here she was, standing over Minatiro's broken body, feeling something akin to... regret?

"If you were weak," she murmured to herself, her voice softer now, "then why does it feel like this?"

Her fingers hovered over Minatiro's chest for a moment, as if reaching out to touch him. THe blue haired general stood frozen, her hand trembling as she pulled it away from Minatiro's chest. She hated the doubt creeping into her mind, the unfamiliar weight in her heart. Weakness—she despised it. She had always believed that only the strong deserved to survive, and those who were weak deserved death. It was the way of the world, the law she lived by.

Yet as she looked down at Minatiro, barely clinging to life, she couldn't bring herself to dismiss him as weak. The thought gnawed at her, a strange sensation of vulnerability. Her chest tightened.

She turned sharply and began pacing, the icy walls of the room shimmering in the dim light. Esdeath's thoughts raced, memories flooding back to when she had first met Minatiro. He had been different—cold, ruthless, yet he had this fire within him, a strength that drew her to him. And now, seeing him like this, she felt a strange pull she had never felt for anyone else.

"Damn you..." she muttered under her breath, her fists clenching. "You better not die like this."

Esdeath knelt beside him, studying the faint rise and fall of his chest. She had the power to save him—her ice, while destructive, also had properties that could preserve and heal, at least for a time. But her hesitation held her back. If she saved him, what would that mean? Was she acknowledging his strength, or was she allowing her own weakness to surface?