Disclaimer I own nothing. Not a thing.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! Finally we're getting into the action here!

When he heard multiple pairs of footsteps outside, Guren froze and moved away from the door. He pressed himself into the corner nearest the window, just in case Kureto had grown a conscience since their last encounter. He could hear Prince Shinya's muffled voice on the other side of the door and the handle hitched as someone fumbled with the lock mechanism. Guren crouched lower, prepared to attack if any complications escorted the crown prince into the room.

However, he need not have worried. In a fluid motion, Shinya slipped into the room and slapped the door quickly behind him. He slid the lock and pressed his back against the polished wood, releasing an exhausted sigh. His embroidered collar was rumpled and the silver circlet sat crookedly on his head. He nodded his head towards the ground, swaying on his feet with closed eyes.

He looks half dead already. If all goes well, it shouldn't take much more to finish the job. Despite the looming task at hand, Guren couldn't suppress the upwards quirk of his lips.

"I never realized being royal was so taxing."

Shinya's eyes darted towards Guren, gaze dulled momentarily by confusion. Guren's gut clenched reflexively, anticipating the inevitable call for help. However, with a slow blink, Shinya's wide grin replaced the wary expression and he seemed at ease with Guren's unexplained visit. Guren settled back down on the balls of his feet—relaxed, but still ready to move if necessary.

That was close. I'm lucky he didn't panic.

"Ehh? You again? I never realized you had such experiences with royalty," Shinya countered, his eyes crinkling. "I assumed your only claim to fame was being hit by my carriage. Your leg seems much better, by the way."

Guren bit the inside of his lip, wracking his brain to remember which limb he had "injured" in case Shinya prodded further. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but he couldn't brush off the asinine comment if Shinya was testing him. Guren preferred when his quarry was blithely unaware—not cunning or cautious.

(Perhaps he had been wise to ignore Mahiru's unimpressed scoffs in favor of his gut instinct. Underestimation led to underperformance.)

"Is that so?"

"I hardly noticed a limp earlier today. Seishirou would be so disappointed if he knew you weren't horribly maimed. Gutter hunting is his favorite hobby." He hummed under his breath before crossing towards a wooden chest, fingers already tracing around the buttons lining his collar. A nearby candelabra threw dark shadows along the curve of his neck. When Shinya turned his back, Guren eyed the exposed skin, smooth and unblemished like marble. If Mahiru hadn't told him Shinya's story earlier, he never would have guessed that the crown prince had grown up in a tavern alleyway.

"Lord Shinya—" Guren interrupted, gesturing towards the table. "Surely you must be famished. Please eat before the food grows cold."

Shinya paused, an eager smile flickering over his lips. "That does sound good." He sauntered towards the table, eyeing the various pieces of assembled meats and breads. "They were trying to starve me during my own banquet." His hand brushed against his tilted crown as he tried to push it back in place.

"Hmm?"

Shinya dropped his hand and shifted his gaze back towards the food. "Yeah, Nii-san hovered over me like a hawk. Every time I had a free chance to eat, he would introduce me to prominent families. Ugh, it was more like a kennel of pretentious lapdogs. I practically spent the whole night scratching behind their ears," he complained.

"Still, they're lapdogs that provide the Crown with financial and military support," Guren reminded him. He struggled to keep the amused smile off his lips. He had a feeling Shinya was being intentionally improper to spite Guren's attempt at seriousness.

Bastard.

Shinya rolled his eyes. "As if I won't have the rest of my life to hear their yaps."

"Of course, my Lord. It's just—" Would you shut the hell up before you blow your cover? "One must be mindful of allies to the throne."

"Ha! I can't believe I'm being advised on court etiquette by—" A thought visibly struck Shinya, wiping his expression like a slate.

That can't be good.

"That reminds me…" Shinya kept his gaze lowered as he picked at a stray piece of bread. "I'm surprised you were the one who served my meal. Usually senior servants of the Hiiragi household are in charge of dining. Strange, since you've only been here for a day."

"I was reassigned to serve you due to the demand caused by the banquet."

"By who?"

Damn.

There was only a handful of people in the castle capable of supplying Guren with that order and three of them desired a dead crown prince.

"Lord Kureto," Guren responded, gambling on the lesser of the three evils. Judging by the tightening of the corners of Shinya's eyes, he had picked the wrong name. Shinya inspected the bread before tearing a chunk off and tossing it back on the table. He brushed his fingers, almost as if casting off spider webs.

"How kind of Nii-san, eager to feed me when I had so little to eat during the banquet. I should thank him for sending you. What did you say your name was again?"

Guren met his stare with pressed lips. "I didn't."

Keeping his eyes fixed on Guren, Shinya shifted around the table. Guren moved in tandem, keeping the same distance between them.

"My door was locked before I entered. How were you able to get inside?"

It had been my door long before it became yours. Guren supposed mentioning the lock's secret weakness wouldn't help his case either.

Never mind about playing along. He knows something's up. Time to end it.

"Perhaps you would like something to drink? You look pale, my Lord." Guren nodded towards the wine cup, filled to the brim with a deep crimson.

Shinya leaned back, a darkly humorous expression spreading across his face.

"No thanks. I'm not in the mood for poison tonight." His hand hovered over the carving knife, set neatly amongst the cutlery. Guren took a step forward and Shinya swiped the blade before retreating closer to the door. He held it out in front of him, daring Guren to step any closer.

(One… Two…)

"My Lord? Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure why Kureto sent you, but if you don't drink to the last drop, I'll call the guards."

"You must be exhausted from the ba—"

"Do it."

"As you wish, my Lord."

Guren pinched the gilded cup stem between his fingers before tipping the wine back. As much as he hated dulling his senses during a dangerous mission, he rather enjoyed Shinya's startled expression as he swallowed.

Did he not expect me to drink? He did order me to do it, after all.

(Eight… Nine…Ten…)

"You're either the worst damn assassin or you're very dedicated to your job."

He set the empty goblet down, offering Shinya raised eyebrows. "The poison wasn't in the wine, my Lord."

Shinya's eyes widened, horrified, as he realized the meaning behind Guren's words.

(Fourteen… Fifteen.)

Shinya's lips parted, but his brow wrinkled, as if he couldn't process the right words. His eyelids fluttered as his gaze shifted back to the blade in his clenched hand.

"Tch! Idiot!" Shinya hissed, more to himself than at Guren. He had ignored the sharp tingle along his palm, believing the source to be nerves rather than a concentrated sedative. Shinya pried the knife out of his hand and it fell to the table with a loud clatter, but the damage had already been done.

Although he maintained his stony expression, Guren felt the knots in his stomach loosen. Slathering the knife with the poison had been a gamble, only salvageable if Shinya had the desire to fight with the intelligence to spot Guren's deception.

Shinya doubled over, taking in a deep breath to fight the rising darkness. He repeatedly wiped his tainted hand against his jacket in vain. The poison was taking its toll, but Shinya continued to struggle against it.

He might not be as strong as Mahiru, but he isn't as weak as she implied. He considered the calculated emotions and the cheery mask. He could have been dangerous.

Guren pursed his lips. He thought back to Mahiru's suggestions. If had chosen to listen to her instead of following his gut, he would have been the one who ended up being poisoned. This was the third time she had nudged him into a risky situation with little consideration for his safety.

That reminds me. I have a few questions to ask her about this…situation.

He tilted his head as he met Shinya's blurry glare. He had given up trying to wipe the poison off his fingers; instead, he seemed to be intent on remaining upright with white knuckles gripped around the edge of the table.

Maybe I should have upped the dosage, Guren mused, shifting his weight to the other foot. His impatience was tinged with worry; the crown prince only had to cry out and guards would be at his throat.

However, apart from Shinya's initial outburst after being tricked, he had remained silent, presumably to conserve his energy. That's not how I expected him to act. Was this the right decision?

"So…why does…Kureto want…me dead…?" Each word came out slurred and labored.

Guren tilted his head to the side. "Kureto? He didn't hire me." His eyes slid over Shinya's hunched shoulders and landed on the door. He swore he had heard a lock tumbler click.

Preoccupied with their conversation, Shinya kept his diminishing focus on Guren. "Wha…? Who…then?"

"Me."

Shinya went rigid at sound of the chilling voice, creeping forth like the first frost of winter. If Guren had to guess, he would say Shinya looked more startled by a single word than the entire poisoning incident.

Not particularly surprised. She would scare me more than death too.

"Mah—" Shinya barely managed to turn his head before Mahiru's wiry fingers wrapped around his neck like an iron trap. He inhaled sharply before her fingers closed even tighter, causing his skin to pucker and redden from the pressure. His back arched as he tried to knock her away, but he was already too dizzy from the poison. He settled for affronted spitting, hardly appropriate for the heir presumptive.

"Agh! Wha—uagh—what—"

Guren crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. He wasn't particularly surprised to see Mahiru; she always was the kind to involve herself in everything. Hell, I was even expecting her to show up.

Still, the perverse pleasure she was gaining by strangling her foster brother and fiancé was a bit unsettling, especially when Guren considered how badly he once wanted to fill the latter role.

Now, he wasn't sure why he desired it in the first place.

Shinya gasped thirstily, prying with little success at her relentless grip. Hindered by the lingering effects of the poison, he wouldn't last much longer. He gave one more desperate wriggle, clawing at the prominent veins running along the base of Mahiru's knuckles. When Shinya's hands flopped weakly to his side, Guren noticed tiny rivulets of red running down Mahiru's wrist.

Mahiru released her grip around Shinya's neck the moment he became unresponsive. He toppled to the floor, his silver circlet rolling away and landing with a metallic clatter by Mahiru's shoe. She prodded his motionless form before bending down to pick up the circlet, admiring it like a spoiled child.

"Mahiru."

"Hmm?"

"I thought you hired me to take care of the crown prince." Guren kept his voice low. She had entered without closing the door behind her; any passing servants or guards could spell doom for them all. Unless, of course, Shinya dies and I'm blamed as the sole assassin.

"Oh?" Mahiru straightened up, blinking owlishly at Guren.

"What was the point of dragging me back here if you wanted to do the job yourself? I don't appreciate risking my neck for nothing."

Mahiru frowned, twisting the circlet absently around her fingers. "We're going to do this together, Guren. Just like when we were kids, we're going to be together again."

"You didn't really need me to come kill the crown prince though, did you? You were going to do it with or without me. So much for together," he scoffed.

She took a small step forward, navigating around Shinya's huddled body. "Guren," she breathed, reaching out for him. When she grasped his hand, he could feel the icy coolness from the stolen circlet and the faint twitching of her palm.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Guren!" Mahiru insisted, tugging on his arm with a pleading expression. "You were the Kingslayer, destined to free us from him."

Guren's lips pressed together in a firm slash. Yes, that. I had been meaning to ask about that.

"You're still going on about that Kingslayer shit? Don't tell me you actually believe the prophet's story."

Mahiru answered his question with one of her own. "Do I have to believe in a prophecy for it to come true?"

"When you're the one pulling the strings, I'd say you qualify as a believer. I doubt a sceptic would go through this much trouble to stage a routine assassin."

"And yet here you are, standing next to me."

"I'm not the Kingslayer. If anything, you are."

Her lips drooped into a disappointed frown; she decided to be relentless until Guren finally admitted the truth.

"Your grandfather was the first king in over a century to be murdered in cold blood. It all because of you—you're the only one alive who could claim the title of Kingslayer."

Guren scowled, but he didn't object. Tenri Hiiragi had swung the blade, but Guren had committed a far greater crime. He couldn't refute the infamous title on a clear conscience.

"That's why you have to kill Shinya right now."

"Because the prophecy says so?"

"Because I want you to," Mahiru countered, her blazing gaze boring into Guren's. "So we can be together."

Ahh… I thought that was the case.

His shoulders slumped as he digested her words. She was not bound by her father's fear of impending vengeance against the Hiiragi clan. For all her prophecy prodding, she could care less about Kingslayers and dead heirs as long as she got what she wanted in the end. Her father's adoption of Shinya had been nothing more than a hindrance—a hindrance she decided to correct herself when a fabled assassin didn't appear.

What does she expect? That if I killed the crown prince, then the Hiiragis would be indebted to me for cleansing their line? The words sounded disgusting in his mind. Tenri won't let me waltz back to the palace with a pardon. If anything, it would give him the motive he wants to start a war with those sympathetic to the Ichinose clan.

If the crown prince dies, a lot of innocent people will follow. He eyed Mahiru, cold and emotionless as she picked at her nails.

No, she doesn't care about what happens, as long as she gets her way. Guren wondered if that meant he had outgrown her or if she had outpaced him.

Mahiru leaned forward, her eager stare pinning Guren. "Aren't you going to kill him? Become the Kingslayer again!"

Guren's gaze dropped to Shinya's motionless form. He hadn't moved since Mahiru dropped him; perhaps he was already dead.

"He's not much of a king right now. Maybe you could try again in a few years." His wry humor fell flat. Darkness thundered across Mahiru's face, but the rage wasn't directed towards Guren.

"Don't you see?" Mahiru seethed, kicking at Shinya's side with a swipe of her foot. "He was never supposed to be king! Father only picked him because a halfwit prophet managed to rattle him when he claimed the crown. Since his arrival, the only thing he's managed to do is separate us and steal my throne!"

An eerily calm expression slipped over her face. It unnerved Guren more than her anger had.

"My father adopted Shinya as a scapegoat for the prophecy," she repeated. "He will do everything in his power to set Shinya up as a puppet heir to make sure it comes true. If it doesn't work, then we're stuck with an inexperienced outsider to rule." She tilted her head, a false sympathy twisting her features. "Think of all the damage he would do."

"It's kinder this way. Once he's gone, we'll be free to be together, Guren. Imagine all that power—imagine us sharing it! Ima—ah—ima-" Mahiru trailed off with a confused expression, her brow wrinkled in concentration.

"Wha—" She broke off again, staring at her trembling hands as the circlet slipped through her fingers. Guren had watched the tremors progress from her pinky to her elbow, counting down the seconds in his head. She had been oblivious to them, consumed by her rage.

"Your description of the crown prince was rather inaccurate. He was far cleverer than you gave him credit for." Typically, Guren wouldn't compliment his target, but he supposed an exception could be made.

"It took a bit longer than I thought it would. The poison along his fingertips wasn't as concentrated, but he managed to get some of it in an open wound." Mahiru brought her shaking fist to eyelevel and scowled at the stinging wound. "It wouldn't be enough to stop you, but now that it's starting to take effect, you won't be as strong as usual. Still, it'll be enough to buy him some time."

Mahiru narrowed her eyes. "So you're going to save the only obstacle in our way? I didn't know you had such a soft spot for hopeless bastards."

It takes one to know one.

Guren shoved his hands in his pocket with a loose shrug. "No, I'm not going to save him either. I'm going to do what I should have done in the first place: mind my own damn business." He moved towards the door, but Mahiru caught his sleeve, sagging against his arm.

"Please, Guren…" she begged. He couldn't meet her gaze anymore, honeyed irises darkened by dilated pupils. "We have to get rid of him."

Guren stepped back, tugging his sleeve from her grasp. "Deal with it yourself. Though…if your prophecy is true and the Kingslayer is real, he can't kill someone who's already dead. Who do you think he'll come after instead?"

Although she had scorned her father's caution earlier, Mahiru recoiled at the implication. Without Shinya to serve as a scapegoat, she and her siblings would be prime targets for any vengeful assassins. She had enjoyed her safety in the shadows.

"If we don't kill him now, then you're putting me in danger!"

"You're more than capable of defending yourself."

"I might die!"

"…"

When she realized her pleas were falling on deaf ears, Mahiru dropped the act. "Damn the consequences if this'll let us be together," she murmured before fishing through a hidden pocket on her hip. Guren watched her impassively, determined to keep his promise to avoid meddling.

Mahiru spun towards Shinya, but stumbled with an ungainly trip as the poison dulled her muscles. With a curled lip and blazing eyes, she lifted the blade in the air, scattering light from the burning candles.

Then, in a brilliant burst of white flame, the tapestry exploded.

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)