Goodness, I updated quickly! I just couldn't resist; I went to the random word generator, it gave me a word, and suddenly I had an idea. So, here's the next chapter! The word for this particular drabble is Decline.

Warning: This chapter contains hints of attempted suicide at the end, so if that's not something you're into, please don't read.

Today was the day. He had to do it now, or he was positive he would burst. Deep, repressed feelings of love and anguish sat in the depths of Kiku's soul for as long as he could remember. He was undeniably smitten with one Wang Yao, his elder, mentor, non-biological brother. Though they had not spoken for years, something inside of Kiku nagged at him to let it out. He couldn't tell any of his friends- not Feliciano, not Ludwig, not Heracles, not even Alfred, despite how close they had gotten. He simply had to tell Yao.

But how?

During a restless night on a whim, Kiku sat watching the moon (one of his favorite pastimes, though it was never the same without Yao), a candle lit at his side, and wrote a letter, pouring his heart out in the form of ink and ancient paper.

Yao,

I suppose this form of communication will have to do in regards to what I am about to proclaim. I hope that you will consider this letter, as I write each word with careful choice. As long as you have known me, you should be aware that direct speaking is a weak aspect of my personality, and that I hope to pass my feelings to you through this meticulously planned piece. I pray that you will not grow bored, as my writing may span pages. I apologize in advance.

Onward.

My dear Yao… I have admired your perfect, gentle form from our first moon spent together. Your hair as fine as the first ink brush you placed in my hand; your eyes shining as the stars at night did the first time I requested to sleep in your chamber as a small, scared boy; your smile more warm and beautiful than the finest sea… and such a loving, welcoming heart you had, you have, you always will have. Even as I grew, needed you less (though I never truly needed you less, however much I made you believe it), became strong and independent… everything was- is- a façade. Just as it was when I was a child, your elegance, charm, beauty, and brilliant personality keep me living through my days- yes, even now, as a grown man of nearly three thousand years. I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love as the years waned like the moon, and the falling has not stopped with the waning. Knowing that you once cared for, and even loved me, I am content. I simply ask that you would learn to do so again.

I have never allowed myself to love another- a being that is not you. The pain of allowing another nation, man or woman, to rob me of my first loving relationship, to steal my first kiss, to take my virginity right before my eyes… it would be far too great. I must know if I have a chance; if you can love me again, as an equal rather than as an inferior, as a lover rather than a brother. Friendship is not enough, and it shall never be. Brotherhood is far too weak for what I feel toward you, and is also too little. If your forgiveness is true, but you do not wish to love me as an equal, I suppose that I deserve that fate. But, I must know if I have a chance, the privilege to hold you in my arms and kiss you, to make love to you, to adore you for another three thousand years and beyond, just as you deserve.

I love you as the first man loved the first woman, as the first drought loved the first rainfall, as the first king loved his country, I ask- I pray- I beg that you consider this… that you consider me.

Again, I say, I love you.

- Kiku

Day after agonizing day, Kiku awaited a response. He would check the mailbox with shaky hands and sweat dripping down his forehead, despite the mild temperature of mid-spring. The mailbox would not go two hours without being searched, even though mail was only delivered once a day. Kiku did not think twice, even when his pets began to worry and follow him to make sure he had not gone mad. Perhaps he had, but a dog and a cat knew no difference.

Finally, a response came. His heart pounded like a taiko drum, over and over and over; his head rushed with blood, his fingers shook violently... it took him nearly ten minutes to rip open the envelope and pull out the letter. Far too anxious to keep it to himself, he read Yao's words in fine Chinese script aloud:

Kiku,

Thank you for writing to me. It is good to hear from you, to know that you are doing well. I suppose you are, if you have the time to sit and write to your gege... but I digress.

I regret to inform you that you are too late. I am in a relationship with Ivan, and we are very happy. He understands me, and treats me like I deserve to be, and he would never stab me in the back like you did. If only you were a few years earlier...

Regardless, I would like to see you someday. I hope you're eating well. Please write again. We can sit down for tea after the next meeting, providing that I don't already have plans with Ivan.

Again... I'm sorry.

- Yao

Kiku held the letter in his violently trembling hands. He wanted badly to rip it apart, tear it to shreds, erase the horrible reminder that Yao could not be his, that he was just a fool and a damned idiot for thinking his feelings could be reciprocated. But other than the shaking, he was completely frozen. A flood of tears escaped from his eyes and stained the paper, ink running all the way to the floor. Kiku lay on top of it, still sobbing and clutching the letter, and fell asleep, not bothering to clean the black ink off of the floor.

The next morning, Kiku found a dull tanto in an idle drawer, in desperate need of sharpening. He took his time to calmly trim it up in favor of breakfast, made sure that his pets were not around, and shut the door to his bedroom.

Kneeling next to the window, Yao's letter still stained with Kiku's tears perched on the windowsill, he readied the knife in one hand as he peeled open his kimono with the other. The very tip of the blade was cold on his bare abdomen, and it sent a shiver down the Japanese man's spine. He almost stopped himself, almost put the knife down...

Until a twitch in his forearm sent the blade deep, deep into his stomach, slowly tearing apart his intestines.

taiko is the Japanese word for drum.

tanto is a Japanese knife often used for seppuku (ritual suicide where one slits their abdomen).

kimono is a Japanese clothing garment.

I apologize if that made your stomach turn; I promise the next chapter will be happier! Thank you for reading!