King Kaneki [Kaneki X Fem. Reader]

Chapter 38

My bitter walk, the bold one, the feral stride only fit for beasts of the wild.

I was a blister; festering with a thirst that burned my throat so harshly...

Only something red, and dark—-fervid,
could quench me.

    The miles onwards to the castle didn't tire me. A single goal tormented my mind and everything within conscious had gone down depths to finish it.

    Many times did Ayato call for me, nearly screaming my name every passing minute just to make sure that I was still in there; still sane. If this wasn't sane, if my desires were abnormal, of deviant nature, it would be a lie to say that I cared.

    The same way martyr's we're willing to burn for their beliefs, I'd stuff my teeth of wood and sink beneath writhing flames like cotton sheets. I wish to kill Rize, and I wish to protect him.

That is all.

    We soon neared the palace's perimeters. Stepping up to its entrance, of course guards littered the front—-four of them. As Ayato and I stopped quite nonchalantly at the foot of these guards, we didn't hesitate to take out the lot of them and continue on with haste.

Running through the halls of the palace, we heard singing coming from the direction of where we estimated the throne room to be. A multitude of voices flowed across the castle softly yet not too faint.

We picked up the pace, essentially bolting down and past every corner that hit us, Ayato failed to match my eagerness. Not when I could imagine her at the throne; polishing the squalid horns atop her head and drawing blood from the tongues of men she slept with.

Busting through the room doors where song peaked at its absolute loudest.

Everything had been revealed.

Groups of women, dressed in elegantly made furisode's were harmonizing beside the throne room pillars which supported the gold sheeted roof over our heads. We noticed a quiet conversation bouncing about the room between a decent crowd of Iridgo Kingdom civilians; fitting to the size of the throne room. In contrast to every speck of black which seemed to illustrate the omen of this towering castle, the room was entirely stained in white, yes, white and gold.

Trails of dark roses ran along the floor, alluding to a pathway which led towards the center.

And then finally, I saw him...

The King's snow white traces of hair fell around his kneeling form, legs laying in his own nest of ice.

His chin fell too... I couldn't see the damaged kitsune mask past each follicle of thick white sheets cascading from his skull, like the end of a waterfall where the stream breaks across the stones beneath it—-then it's just a boiling, feverish white.

My eyes baring pain and disbelief ran over the strongly appealing kimono which clothed his still body. He was dressed like this was some sort of ceremony.

"Your majesty?" Croaking out his name, my voice traveled broken and frail.

"Your majesty?!—-"

"(Y/n)! My dear Yato!"

...Had I acknowledged her presence.

I would've struck the lamb dead as soon as I walked in here.

Staring over at the purple-headed ghoul dressed in a matching sokutai to accentuate whatever sick celebration this was, I held my gaze dourly. "What the hell is going on?" I lowered my tone, feeling the muscles of my tensioned brows nearly hide my maddened gaze.