Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: What can I say? I promised a dear friend to write something where Atobe actually is a king~

King and Captain

"They have broken into the castle, My Lord." These words, along with the sound of the door being hastily opened that preceded them, drew the king's attention from where he had been gazing out of his window. "It's only a matter of moments before they find their way here."

"Sadly, I'm not too surprised." King Keigo cast his eyes out of the window once more, seeing the common people storming the gates of his ancestral castle, waving their fires and pitchforks as though hunting for a witch. "My Guard?"

"Either dead or joining the trash to save themselves." The words were accompanied by a dark gaze. "Accept my apologies, My Lord… it is my disgrace that they would not serve you as they should."

"Yet you are here, as you would be, Captain." He stepped away from the window, no more interested in the waves of common folk invading his home. He would see them up close soon enough. "It is hardly your disservice if the men I gave into your hands were no men after all."

"It is my responsibility, though, My Lord." Captain Kite looked at him seriously. "My Lord… there is little I can do for you anymore, aside from keep the trash at bay as long as I can. They yearn for your blood… were they to get their hands at you, they would rip you apart limb from limb."

"You call them trash… yet are they not just as you were, once?" The king raised his eyebrows. "What has them in such an uprising, Captain? Have I not been a benevolent ruler? Have I not given of my own to feed them as the crops fail?"

"You have, My Lord… but the common folk are easy to lead. They think with their stomachs, after all." The captain cast a hateful glance outside as though wishing to see the one behind all this. "It's Hiyoshi again, My Lord, I'm sure you remember him… he has been talking the people into this. His sweet words of revolution and freedom unknown have led them into such chaos."

"Such fools they are," sighed the king, shaking his head. "They cannot see him for what he is… Merely a young upstart who wishes not for their freedom but to rule upon them himself." There were sounds of battling coming from somewhere further along the castle corridors. Apparently not all of his Guard had abandoned him yet, then. "We have but a moment, haven't we, Captain?"

"Indeed." It was a nod, not a bow, just a brief nod of agreement as the captain stepped closer to him. "There is one thing, my Lord… one thing I cannot ever do for you." The purple eyes focused on his, sharp and demanding despite the subservient words. "Were I to fail in my task… I need you to do that for me instead." The dark hand reached for the sword set upon the nearby dresser, offering it to him. "My Lord… forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," he said, quietly, sincerely. He blamed his captain for no failing… not even the one that had yet to happen. Accepting the offered blade, he pressed a light kiss upon the sleek, metallic length. "It shall be just as well… this blade, or your arm, they'll be the same in their service to me."

Another nod. And then the captain was even closer, closer than he would have allowed anyone else to step, and then it was rough lips that covered his instead of the steel of his blade. "I need you to go, My Lord," the captain whispered roughly against his lips. "To your chambers… a door is easier to protect than a man. As long as I stand, no common hand will ever taint you. And were I to fall… know that I'll be waiting for you, standing guard in the next world."

"I know you will," he replied, meaning every word. His captain would not abandon him… not even in death.

Then he was pushed away, gently but firmly, through the doorway into his chambers and the door closed after him. Not a moment later did he hear the sounds of people breaking in, rushing in to where they should never have been allowed, shouting and screaming and calling for his death. Refusing to show fear, not as long as his most loyal man stood guard by his door, he simply walked further into his private chambers were few had ever set foot.

It wasn't going to be long, much though it pained him to think that. Though the captain was the best swordsman ever to have served him, the common folk had strength in their numbers… and the numbers were high, with the likes of Hiyoshi spurring them on, making them forget everything they already had and only yearn for what they lacked. He didn't have much time left.

Reaching the very last room, his bed chamber, he paused at the door, closing his eyes. Just the night before, he had been here, he and the captain. The very night before… and never again.

Even here, in the very end of his rooms, the sounds of the battle still reached him. He opened his eyes again. The room seemed so empty, so devoid of all life. He knew… knew beyond any shadow of doubt… that the captain would never enter it again.

He heard a yell, one sound over all the noise of the battle, one call… for himself. For his name… and suddenly, with a sure certainty, he knew his last wall of defence had fallen. Soon the peasants would force their way into his chambers, yearning his blood like starved hounds. Soon… but not yet.

He had the blade. It was a beautiful, skilfully crafted blade, perfectly balanced, an unmatched weapon in every way. He'd received it on his last birthday, and though not more magnificent or expensive than the myriad of gifts he had also received on that day, it was special because of the person who had gifted him with it. The very same person who had now set it in his hand… asking him to do the only thing the captain couldn't accomplish himself.

How could he not carry out the very last wish of one who had stood beside him until the very end?

The people storming the king's chambers found that they were to be disappointed. They had wanted to find their ruler, to drag him out for all to see, to take him down and kill him in the most degrading and humiliating ways they could think of… yet they found they could not. King Keigo had already escaped from their grasp.

All they could display to the excited crowds was the body of the king, the last in the line of Atobes, impaled on his own blade with a small smile on his face.

He had someone waiting for him.