Conversation with a Kind King
Zatch sat with his bearded chin resting on his steepled hands, elbows propped on the armrests of his chair, thoughtful eyes set on the table surface in quiet concentration.
Koruru chanced small glances at him from across the round table as she watched the tea pour into her teacup. She wringed her hands nervously under the table. Everything about this meeting was unusual. Koruru was very self-conscious that this was the first time she had ever been alone with him, barring, for the moment, the servant attending them. Moreover, in the royal garden, over tea, and with such a serious Zatch. It was decidedly unprecedented, and it made her uneasy.
There were always such long gaps between the times she got to see him, so of course she was happy to get to see him today—or rather she wanted to be happy, but…
She glanced at Zatch one more time. His spine was as straight as the backrest of the chair he was sitting on. His shoulders could be used as beams. His eyes were hard and thoughtful and his mouth was becoming an increasingly thin line. Koruru was certain that at that very moment she was sitting before his kingly persona, a form he always reserved around their friends. He had sent for her and her alone less than a half hour ago, and the only thing she knew was that he wished to talk to her. Zatch was usually busiest in the morning so for him to call for her at this time, whatever he wanted to talk about had to be of very high importance. It could be good news, she tried to think, but with his apparent mood, she was having difficulty convincing herself.
Koruru pressed her arms around her body and shivered. It was early in the morning, and on the floating island they were on, one of the larger ones of the palace complex, they were above the sun's level and thus cast in a chilly penumbra. It only served to make her all the more uncomfortable. Looking around to distract herself, it came to Koruru's attention that all the sweets and treats on the table and on the servant's trolley were her favorites. All of them; there appeared to be no options that were meant for Zatch, not even yellowtail. It struck her as severely odd.
"Ah! That's enough."
Koruru started when she noticed the tea getting dangerously close to the whelm of her teacup. The servant promptly but smoothly withdrew the porcelain teapot. She appeared to smile at her behind her veil. Koruru returned the smile, just in case, conscious it did not fully conceal her tension. The servant returned the ornate teapot to her trolley and then presented an equally ornate creamer. "Milk?" she asked in a soft, pleasing voice. Koruru nodded shortly. The servant added however much milk would fit in the cup without overflowing. "Sugar?"
"One please," Koruru requested softly. The servant deposited a sugar cube in Koruru's teacup and proceeded to stir the tea, the clinks of silver against porcelain punctuating the silence of the venue. Remarkably, the contents of the teacup did not spill. Koruru wasn't sure she was brave enough to pick it up.
The servant moved on to serve Zatch's tea. She poured a splash of tea, an inordinate amount of milk, and two cubes of sugar into his cup without asking for his preferences, obviously familiar with what they were already. "Is there anything else I can do for you and your distinguished guest, Your Majesty?" the servant asked when she finished, lacing her fingers below her waist.
Zatch raised his head and brought his arms to rest on the armrests of his chair in a serene transition between his reverie and the present setting. He smiled warmly at the servant. "No, Lily. Thank you. You are dismissed."
Lily bowed at the waist. "By your leave." She turned and quietly retired to the edge of the island, whereupon she would descend with the same levitation spell she used to bring herself and Koruru up, leaving the trolley with the tea and treats next to the table. Koruru watched her disappear under the island's edge, wishing she would stay for just a little longer while she figured out what to make of this reunion.
"Koruru." Zatch's deep voice called. Koruru jerked her head to him and met his golden eyes.
They were pools of serenity. Wise and profound, they seemed capable of swallowing anything without stirring. Yet their tranquility could not contain the glint of the lively soul hidden in their depths. Looking into them, Koruru somehow felt her apprehension drain out of her and be absorbed by them. Swimming in the sensation of relief from tension and slightly awed, Koruru smiled easily at her friend and gave him her full attention.
He tilted his head slightly and returned a short smile before proceeding to speak. "I called you here today to speak to you about the Battle to Decide the Demon King."
The lack of preamble caught her by surprise. So it was good news. As immediately as the surprise had struck, it subsided to a rising feeling in her chest, like a warm bubble swelling inside her. She clasped her hands together, smiling elatedly, eyes glowing. "Have you found a way to stop it?"
"It was not easy to reach a resolution that satisfied all the ministers. Some are still unhappy." His speech was oddly restrained and controlled. He usually let go of formalities when he was alone with their friends. The reserved manner was further out of place considering the news he was about to deliver. These were but vague thoughts at the edge of Koruru's attention as she listened for the words that would be her cue to break out in joyous tears. "Even so, something I have learned in the ten years of my rule is that I cannot please everyone. Regardless, this is something I was determined to change, for the reasons that you know. Earth and I pored over all the laws and arcana pertinent to the battle and we have created a reform that will change our world for the better."
"So there won't be another battle?" Koruru urged excitedly. She was close to squealing from euphoria.
There was a moment of silence just long enough to border on awkward before Zatch responded. "The Battle to Decide the King will continue."
Koruru's smile stiffened. Her shoulders slumped and she stared at Zatch, blinking rapidly. She repeated what she had just heard in her mind over and over. The more she heard the words in her head, the harder it was to believe them. He couldn't have said what she thought she'd heard him say. If he did, maybe he was messing with her to make the news she was expecting feel even better? No. She'd expect something like that from the likes of Kyanchome, but Zatch wouldn't do something so impish, especially not regarding this subject. She must have heard wrong. Yes, that was it. With how deep his voice was it would be easy for the word "not" to get lost in the sentence. Koruru stretched her smile and righted her posture. "You said it will not continue, right? There won't be another battle."
"No. There will be another battle."
This time Koruru could not maintain her smile. It disappeared from her face as her jaw went slack and her brow creased in sudden bewilderment. Her joined hands slowly dropped to her lap and she studied Zatch.
Nothing about his demeanor signaled any nuance. No matter how she thought about it, he had said 'The battle will continue'. Yet to Koruru there had to be more. It just simply could not be that Zatch would invite her to a private meeting to so coldly throw news of this magnitude at her. It hadn't been a minute since he had said he was determined to change things. "Uh. Um. You…I thought, all this time, that you've been working hard to find a way to stop the battle," she prodded. He wouldn't fail her. The Zatch she knew wouldn't abandon his promise and expect her to flatly accept it as if it were nothing.
"Abolishing the battle proved impossible," he said, tone even. "There is nothing we can do about its occurrence."
Koruru stared at him skeptically. 'Impossible'? 'Nothing we can do'? Koruru's thought process was jammed by the shock of contradiction. For him to speak like this, the one in front of her was the antithesis of Zatch Bell. That was the language of someone who was giving up.
He was giving up…?
"This can't be," she whispered. There had to be something else going on here, something he wasn't telling her about. This had to be someone else's doing. They both knew from the start that he would be met with opposition in his efforts to stop the fighting, but never in a lifetime did she think he would succumb to any kind of pushback.
She would not let him give up. She was his friend, and this was their promise.
"The ministers," Koruru started, leaning forward pointedly. "Did they oppose you? Did evil-hearted ministers force you to continue the battle?"
"Nobody opposed me," Zatch corrected sharply, steel to his voice. "I am allowing the battle to continue. It was my decision."
Koruru felt her heart drop to her stomach. Her mind spun and she fell back against her chair, her head bouncing once against the backrest.
This had to be a nightmare. Everything about this meeting had felt unnatural and unreal from the beginning. This stony Zatch coolly unloading such crushing news on her could only exist in a bad dream.
Yes. Supper did not sit well with her last night. It was only a bad dream. The powerful feeling of shock, the tremor of her body, the thrumming of her heart—it was all enough to start someone awake in a cold sweat a hundred times, but Koruru felt nowhere close to waking up. She was stuck in this awful dream.
There was nothing for it but to confront her nightmare. "This isn't you," Koruru said, her voice breathless whisper. "Why? It's only been ten years. Why would you make a decision like that so soon?" She tried to focus her swimming vision on his eyes. Those quiet pools of warmth and comfort had frozen over, their lively glint supplanted by a cold glaze. A clenched jaw and a suddenly unmoving body gave the impression he had become a stone statue.
"To tell the truth, Koruru, the King does not have any control over whether the battle occurs or not. Nobody does." he responded. If his tone was controlled before, this was paramount to listening to a pre-recorded recitation. "The books appear on their own every one thousand years. We know nothing of where they come from. We ignore who makes them—and there lies the problem. Whomever created the books also created the device that sends demons to the Human World, the Golden Book, the White Wand, and, most importantly, the King's Privilege—the gratuitous power to kill. The most powerful sorcerer in Demon World history cannot produce such extraordinary constructs, yet this entity can. We cannot predict what this entity—possibly a god—would do if we simply choose not to assign the books at the turn of the next millennium. The possibilities could be catastrophic and too great to risk. We have therefore judged it wisest not to interfere with the tradition."
As soon as Zatch began speaking, the chill of morning air, the leafy scent of tea, the saccharine smell of the sweets on the table, the tension of her muscles, the very feeling of weight, the table, the surrounding landscape—everything vanished. Only Zatch and his voice existed. Koruru listened, entranced, to the words that revealed the so-pregnant reason that had apparently compelled Zatch to break a promise of a lifetime.
Koruru scrutinized the words, putting every ounce of her being into understanding what they meant. Gods, extraordinary constructs,
tradition—how did it all fit into this outcome? How did it fit on the scheme of the battle's occurrence? She tried, for her friend's sake, to understand. She couldn't. "That…that is…that doesn't matter!" she got out, voice shaking. "Isn't the purpose of it all to choose a leader? As long as it's fair, it shouldn't matter how it's done." Koruru's breathing was heavy, and even though she wasn't raising her voice, or at least trying not to, her throat felt sore, probably from holding back all the whines and whimpers that threatened to break from it while she listened. "The battle…it's so senseless. How can anyone think it a good way to choose a leader?"
"The battle is certainly flawed," Zatch replied, body still rigid and eyes cold, though his mechanic tone had relaxed enough that he sounded somewhat thoughtful. "I've questioned its logic as well. Why must it be a battle at all? Why must children fight it, and not young adults? Even if that were somehow a solution, winning does not mean one's doctrine is superior. The battle—"
"The battle allows violent, evil demons to come into power!" Koruru blurted out. There was a delay before she realized she had just interrupted Zatch—and rather loudly, at that. It was probably the first time she'd interrupted someone in her life. Zatch instantly went quiet, which he didn't have to do. Koruru gulped in spite of herself, a part of her urging her to say sorry. She somehow ignored it. If she had spoken out already, she might as well finish her piece. The moment of self-consciousness served to moderate her tone. "It blinds demons with the desire to win and encourages them to cheat and backstab and to take advantage of the weak. Demons become heartless that way. They learn violence is an effective way to settle differences. The battle breeds kings who think it's acceptable to act like that. I thought you knew that." Koruru stared into Zatch's eyes intensely, determined to melt their ice. She waited, fingers squeezing her thighs, as Zatch seemed to be formulating his response. All while he thought, his glazed orange eyes met her imploring pink ones unwaveringly.
"I became King through the battle," he said, tipping his head pointedly. "And I am a kind King. I have an agenda of prosperity for everyone. Nevertheless, there are plenty who strongly object to my ideals of peace, or at least to my policy on how to establish peace. Outside the realm of ideals, there are rogues who just wish to do as they please without being imposed on. There are those who have an unquenchable inner thirst to fight. Then there are those who covet the throne and will do anything to usurp it from whoever has it; because of my insistence on living among civilians in spite of being King, many of those types have had the opportunity to attempt against my life, and they have taken it. Everyone will not agree with a King simply because he has an agenda of harmony and prosperity."
He laced his fingers in front of himself and stared down at the tips of his index fingers, which he pushed against one another at a constant beat. "A law is only ever theoretical. And in a world where everyone has power like demons do, it is impossible to absolutely uphold a law. Changing the way we choose our King will change nothing." He paused and raised his gaze above Koruru's head. A forlorn sigh escaped him. "It is precisely for that reason the King's Privilege exists."
As Koruru watched Zatch speak, a light of understanding slowly brightened: for the first time since their conversation started, Zatch was displaying signs of being troubled by his decision.
Koruru's grip on her thigh relaxed, her breathing steadied, and, strangely, as the idea grew that the Zatch who'd promised her to stop the fighting wasn't completely gone, the faster her heart beat. He could still be swayed. If she could push him, ever so slightly, in the right direction, he would abandon the notion that ending the battle was inevitable.
"But you didn't use the King's Privilege on anyone," she said softly, a hand on her chest. Upon hearing her voice, he returned his gaze to her. "You risked your life to save everyone and that's the reason all those lawless demons you talk about can do as they please. They must be grateful for that much. If you tell them to change their ways, they will do it."
Zatch shook his head. "That is not the way things are. For better or worse, the qualities that make the demons we speak of so unruly are a part of who they are. There is nobody that can take that away from them."
"But you're their King! They have to listen to you!" Koruru's voice was a tight, desperate whine, and, thought not quite there, very close to yelling. She breathed heavily, her patience and hope caving to mounting despair and indignation. She hardly had any strength to listen anymore. It was becoming impossible for her to resist the realization that Zatch had betrayed his promise to be a kind King—a promise he made bloodied and in salty tears—and worse, how indifferent he seemed about it, as if his words from then had meant nothing. This wasn't the boy from then. What had happened to her friend? What had made him like this? A fire raged inside her. It caused searing pain to her heart. She mourned as in that pyre Zatch's promised world of peace burned to ashes like a corpse being cremated, fueled by the ever overwhelming realization that somewhere in the last ten years she had lost her friend, her king, her hero, her hope.
Slightly parted lips were the only sign of Zatch's shock, made more prominent by the neutrality of the rest of his features. Several heartbeats of silence passed between them. The very air was jarred by kind Koruru's strident words as though they were a dissonant chord. Zatch closed his mouth. His expanding chest betrayed that he was taking a deep, stabilizing breath through his nose. When he spoke again his tone was long-suffering, reminiscent of a parent patiently explaining something difficult to a child who was perhaps too young or upset to understand. "Koruru, I am a kind King; I cannot force others to think like me."
"But if you don't do something there will always be pain and suffering."
"We cannot escape suffering. If we deprive ourselves of experiencing suffering we rob ourselves of the opportunity to understand the world—and if we cannot understand the world, we cannot make it a better place. Evil will always exist. We cannot abolish it. We can only fight it, resist it. Because the battle reflects this reality, I will let it continue. Even if there is something I can do to stop it, I will not do it."
Broken, Koruru slumped against the back of her chair, burning tears cascading from her eyes. "You promised nobody would be forced to fight again." Her voice was a broken whine.
"And no one will. I—"
"Stop… I don't want…No…"
"Koruru, listen."
"Nonono…" Koruru's words trailed into meaningless wails. Shaking her head, she shut her eyes, covered her ears, and tucked into herself, weeping uncontrollably, more than she ever had in her life. She was at the mercy of raging waves of despair, disappointment, and fear. The one defender of those without a heart for fighting was going to let violent demons have their way. It was only a matter of time now before ruthless demons overrode those without a will to fight. What place would she have when it all broke out? She and her family would have to live in constant fear. Not just her, everyone who had put their faith in Zatch was down to their own strength and luck now. There were so many who had neither. What would be of them? And their friends—the thought of how everyone would react when they knew drove the pain even deeper. Their kind King had let them all down.
She could still hear his voice, muffled by her hands and the internal echoes of her crying.
"Koruru…Koruru, look at me. Please."
His voice was gone for several beats. Then she heard him again.
"I knew this would be hard on you. Even though I have full faith that the decision I made is for the good of everyone, it has taken me days to gather the courage to tell you. I knew you would cry those tears, and I did not want to see them. The tears you shed now, they are like that day. You were torn between the pain of hurting others and the pain of being separated from someone you love. No matter what, you would end up suffering. It was so harsh and cruel. And I was confronted by that horrible reality and I wanted to do something to change it so badly; but I was crushed because I knew there was not a thing I could do. I felt so small and impotent. All I could do was vow I would become King so that tears like that would not be shed again. That pain, do you believe I would make a false promise in the name of it?"
For a moment after Zatch spoke, nothing happened. Then, slowly, Koruru unfolded and sat upright, hands on her lap, expression straight. She looked into his eyes passively, wordlessly laying the last of her hope on Zatch. It was only a drop, but its weight was enough to make him shake.
Zatch was leaning in, wide-eyed, a hand on the table. He resumed his proper position and wasted no time to speak. "To tell the truth, I decided the battle should continue a long time ago. I thought back and contemplated everything I lived and witnessed. It is undeniable that the battle is full of atrocities. However, being forced to fight others against your will, hurting others and being condemned to live with the knowledge you did things your heart is incapable of is an unbearable sentence and the most unforgivable part about the battle. And it happened more often than it should—quantifiably so, with the thousand-year-old demons.
"There were so many others like you. Yopopo. He did not want to fight. He hates it. He was even more unwilling to fight when the book chose a girl called Jem, who had become a friend he loved, to be his partner. But he was dragged into the battle when a bad demon hurt Jem's family, and by extension Jem's heart. Like you, he wanted to stay, but he knew he would only cause Jem to get hurt and suffer needlessly if he did. Letting his book get burned would not be enough to protect her, so he fought. He had to give Jem at least the solace of justice before leaving and ensure she would not get hurt again. He confronted the demon. By himself. Kiyomaro and I had to step in, but he accomplished his mission in the end at the cost of his book. Though he knew he would never see Jem again, he smiled at her as he disappeared; he was just happy she was free from the fight, and she was free because he fought to unchain her from the battle.
"Umagon too. Umagon was afraid of fighting. So afraid. He avoided finding his partner until the battle was more than half-way over. He was afraid for me too—he hated seeing me get hurt for reasons he probably did not understand at the time. Everything changed when the time came that his friends were in danger and he was the only one that could save them. Though fighting terrified him, he dispensed with his fear and rose to the occasion to protect his friends. He fought bravely through the rest of the battle. To protect his friends, to protect the things important to him, to the very end, he…
"Yopopo and Umagon, they chose to fight in spite of it being against their nature. Yet, Yopopo is still Yopopo and does what Yopopo does and Umagon is Umagon and does what Umagon does. They did not fight because their hearts changed, but because there was something beyond themselves they had to preserve. They suffered, but their hearts are stronger and have little to fear from threats to what matters to them now. The battle incurs pain, but we gain much from it as well.
"Without memories, I could not understand my powers or who I was. I was alone and thought myself a monster. I learned that I have a brother who hated me—so much he stole my memories and then attempted to kill everyone in Japan just to see me suffer. Then I found out that all the suffering I had fought that far to stop was my own father's will. I was almost devoured body and soul by a corrupted power my father created. I too underwent pain. But that was not all. Through it all, I met Kiyomaro, the best friend I have ever had, and so many more friends after him. Baou, the power that almost devoured me and Kiyomaro, we used to save everyone. And after many years of having no one I could say cared about me, I have a family now. All these precious things, all these wonderful things, I have them thanks to the Battle to Decide the King. I would not be who I am today if not for the battle. Whenever I think about that, I cannot absolutely brand it as pernicious. The battle, through its ruthless logic, makes us learn and grow.
"But we do not grow if we are made to fight mindlessly; there must be guidance, there must be a purpose. So it is that I will decree that belligerent alternate personalities no longer be assigned to peaceful demons."
Koruru inhaled sharply. "Is that true?" she breathed.
"Yes," Zatch said, a hint of a smile on his face. "Earth and I have had the decree completely drafted for much time now. Tomorrow is the date of officialization. No one will be forced to fight against their will anymore, Koruru. I promise you."
Silence met his words, the latter part of them making the strongest impression on Koruru. "But." She hesitated. "But there will still be fighting."
"Yes; there will be. For as long as there is fighting there will always be the chance that someone with an ill heart will become King, force everyone to fight, and cause needless suffering. This is what worries you?"
Koruru nodded once.
"Koruru, I have a vision for the Demon World. I want it to be a world where everyone can belong. No matter what their nature, everyone would belong somewhere and be accepted by everyone. A cold heart, after all, is one that was never exposed to warmth; and what is called 'evil' is but the festered resentment and bitterness of prolonged suffering and rejection. In this world of mine, those who fight will do so because they choose to, and if they so choose, it will be because they have something to fight for. Then, no matter what kind of threat arises, those who fight with a reason will gather their strength and overcome it, the same as we did. Even those who are not given to violence will find a way to lend their strength to protect what is important to them, like you did once. Perhaps this transformation will not be possible in the next millennium, but at the very least we can pass on this doctrine to the next generation and the next until it is fully realized. I want this to be my legacy. With you, and all our friends, this is the Demon World I want to create: a world that abandons no one. Koruru." Leaning in and looking Koruru in the eye, Zatch laid an open hand half-way across the table. "Will you help me realize my legacy?"
Koruru contemplated Zatch's hand, her body tingling. Slowly, she rose her gaze to meet his eyes. There was a quiet strength to those striking orange disks, like a bastion of steel that could not be moved, climbed or circumvented; and yet they offered a gentility like silk whose touch could ease all fear and despair. Looking into them Koruru felt all the fear and misgivings of the last few moments almost disappear. It was the character of a kind King personified. Had he always been like this? Had she taken these qualities for granted as part of his personality and ignored them as regal attributes that could be a force of change?
Those noble eyes faded. Instead of strong and gentle, they were now agonized. Tears flooded them and glid over smooth cheeks. The sharp, mature features of his visage became rounder and more youthful, and they were painted over with blood and bruises. It wasn't the King looking back at her anymore. He was a small, powerless boy.
She had once asked that boy to make a promise that was probably unfair of her to burden him with. Become a kind King. It was a helpless request from a helpless girl to a helpless boy. When she thought about everything that happened in the battle—the Thousand-Year-Old Demons, Faudo, Clear Note—it should have been impossible. Yet, he did not just triumph over all of it and become the King, he united an entire generation of demons behind his leadership, turned an immense and evil power into a force of good, and saved two worlds, twice. He didn't just keep a promise, he performed miracles.
He was a miraculous King.
Now sitting before her, that King of miracles, a King she handpicked herself, was making the overture of another miracle. A world where no one is abandoned so that everyone may learn to be kind. Was it possible? Koruru looked down at Zatch's hand again.
He had united everyone to save the entire world. What reason was there to believe he couldn't do the same thing to change it?
Koruru reached over and closed her hand around Zatch's. "I think I gained something from the battle, too," she said; "The grace of having someone to put my faith in. I believe in your decision, Zatch. I think it is for the best." She squeezed his hand reassuringly and lit a smile upon him.
In return, Zatch's entire body appeared to have smiled. All at once, his chest, shoulders and chin rose as a broad smile unfurled across his face. "Unu! We'll make great future for everyone together, Koruru! You'll see!"
"I know we will."
Just then, the sun rose at last from under the island, illuminating the garden and bathing it in warmth, dispelling the chill and dimness of the early morning. The two friends basked silently in the glow of the moment.
Still smiling, Zatch bit his lip for two beats before springing to a stand, lifting Koruru's hand like a tethered cable, his chair groaning as it shot backward. "Let's go!"
Koruru gave him a bemused look. She rose from her chair without thinking, though with more moderation than Zatch. "Where?"
"To the palace," Zatch said, moving around the table and taking Koruru's other hand. "To announce the decree."
"But you said you would officialize it tomorrow."
"Doesn't matter. It's still early. I can arrange for it to be today. Come on! I want you to stand beside me when I do it!"
He took off and tugged her along without waiting for a response. They ran together, hand in hand, toward the palace.
Those of you who've read the manga know that Zatch had a change of heart on ending the battle at the end of the series. Since the first time I finished Zatch Bell, I've wondered how he would tell Koruru. Here's my take on that. What do you think?
My gratitude to BurningFox6 for beta reading.
Thanks for reading.
