Choices
She tosses and turns, body restlessly twisting among the sheets, fisting them in silent desperation. She feels not the sweat beading on her brow, nor the gooseflesh that raises the fine hair on her skin.
In her sleep, she can only feel the painful clenching of her heart.
She sees loosely gathered blond hair, bright against the backdrop of dark night. His eyes are wiser than she remembers, and all the sadder for that wisdom. Sakura petals fly around them as a stray breeze picks up, and she remembers that first meeting when he plucked a sakura branch for her, purple robes shielding her from the wind that whipped about them and stirred the sakura blossoms into a frenzy.
It seems an age ago, when she was sixteen and he nineteen, with nothing more on their minds then earning money and waiting for long lost brothers.
At seventeen and twenty, they have to choose between love and desire and duty; they have an empire resting on their shoulders.
At twenty, his gold eyes reflect turmoil and his inner war. There is a quiet desperation when he suggests a contest of sorts, a bet that puts their emotions and future on the line. It makes her chest hurt, knowing that it is she who has put that misery in him; she has brought a ruler to his knees.
It hurts, knowing that in his loving her, he is willing to compromise his dignity as Emperor, willing to go to any lengths to fulfill her dreams, willing to give her a choice over everything.
And what has she done for him? The man who retains his boyish charm and naivete, who always puts her first and himself second, who tries to the best of his ability to please her. Who loves her.
Nothing. Nothing besides empty hope and an empty bed in the dark despite knowing his childhood fears of being locked in a cupboard. The dark cupboard is a mere metaphor now, but not any less scary than before. Will she condemn him to such a fate?
The choice is hers to make; 'Until the sakura blooms', he'd said.
She imagines she can feel the velvet soft brush of the petals against her cheek and lips, like that soft kiss he'd given her when she'd left him that first time.
Her lips curve in a smile; she knows what she must do.
You win, Ryuuki.
And she awakens, the light of dawn kissing her cheeks and streaking her tears quicksilver.
Shuurei has made a choice.
AN: I can't believe I actually wrote this in about half an hour, especially after agonizing over my writer's block for ages. Was actually in the midst of a Kouyuu oneshot when inspiration for this struck - which means that this is done and the Kouyuu one will probably never be -.- But I love Ryuuki more than Kouyuu, so meh. Not enough Shuurei/Ryuuki that focuses on serious romance, methinks. Have not been in the Saiunkoku community since forever, so pardon me if there are any technical errors like the ages, which I'm not too sure of. Spelling and grammatical errors too; it's five in the morning and I'm too lazy to check, so do let me know if there're any discrepancies. And thanks for reading! x