Once, not so very long ago, in the kingdom of Zaraki, lived the Kyuudaime Kempachi and his son.
At birth, the boy had been devoted unto a great demon, and as he grow, he showed promise, his skill beyond that of any imagined for his age. By fifteen, the prince was very eager to take over the empire from his aging father, however, the Kyuudaime had seen his son's rash behavior and thought him too immature to yet challenge him for the title. He placed wealth and the glory of violence over honor, over family, over country.
The king defeated his son easily each and every time, frustrating him to no end when he told him he wasn't ready to take his place. This just made the boy more determined to prove himself, and in desperation, he led his people to battle against the peaceful East, always having thought his father a fool for not conquering such an easily gotten piece of land.
At first, it seemed that he would succeed, but then the weather turned. The very sky seemed to growl, the sea howled, and the earth raged beneath him, driving his forces back, but he refused to give up, staying on alone in a foolish display of stubbornness.
Up to the palace steps he marched, through the doors, into the courtyard, where he shouted for a challenge, for the ruler of this country to come out so he might strike them down and take their lands, their treasure. A young woman sat coldly on her throne, not rising at his words.
It was there that the Kyuudaime caught up and stopped his foolish son and apologized to the empress for his child's rash deeds.
However, the prince would not bow, and while his father's head was to the floor in penance, he rushed an attack on the queen. Before the foolish young man knew up from down, he'd been thrown aside and his father had crossed swords with the woman in his place, having saved his immature head being flayed from his shoulders.
The prince sulked, expecting his father, the Kyuudaime, the greatest warrior of the age to finish this in one strike as he always did. To his grand surprise and horror, a fight ensued, the woman moving with a savage grace and showing such fighting prowess that the prince was amazed. Before he knew it, he had fallen in love with her.
Then the Kyuudaime fell dead and the new Juudaime Kempachi had sheathed her sword and turned with a flourish, leaving the poor prince on his knees in the dirt. "Father," he wept, "Father."
Enraged and embittered by the loss of his father on account of his own foolish deeds, the prince desperately tried to fight her, but it was no use. "Wait," he finally cried, begging her to come and rule his father's people, for it was now her duty to do so.
"Kempachi, wait!" But she refused, and was gone.
For ten long years, the prince had grown and ruled the empire as the Kempachi, but knew inside that he did not deserve the title. He searched far and wide for her, but could never find her anywhere.
…
Despite Ikkaku's excitement, the travels towards the Fugai weren't all easy.
For one, despite the assurance that Queen Unohana was safe and well, his father was in a mood. He didn't like leaving the North, which was something that Ikkaku had always avoided discussing with his father, because well, his dad didn't trust foreigners – which Ikkaku didn't really agree with, but whatever, he can't argue with the king.
For two, riding for like ten days was hard on a person's back, and sight-seeing was only interesting for so long – even though Ikkaku hasn't been out of the country since he was a young boy.
The first days were spent riding through Zaraki. The boulder-ridden gray-green fields of the land were wild and beautiful, blooming with untended yarrow and goldenrod. Rather than traveling the well-worn paths out to the foothills on the eastern border, they went through the few woodland towns on their journey out to the west, greeted as they went by children gathering wood and playing.
The days spent going through the Hokutan were endlessly boring, but at last around day five they crossed the small fog-shrouded river that cut through the land below the Kuchiki Manor. It looked like there might be an island out there, but Ikkaku was more concerned with the gloomy forest of the Fugai looming before them.
His father slowed his horse for a few moments with a grimace, staring into the darkness. Ikkaku stopped at his side, glancing to him several times until at last King Kenpachi waved a hand to move the cavalcade forward.
As Ikkaku had seen in books and heard from his father, the Fugai was made up of dense and inhospitable woodland, and of course, swamp. There were traversable roads, of course, but not many, and frequently they had to lead the horses through muddy patches where solid ground wasn't certain. The merry chatting of the warriors behind them dampened somewhat when they entered under the dark trees, and Ikkaku felt the same sense of uneasiness pass over him as well.
The place was downright spooky. People supposedly disappeared here quite frequently. Ikkaku had no idea what had possessed – whoever it had been however many years ago – to build the royal chateau in the swamp.
The Fugai had undergone so many coups and and military upheavals in their history that Ikkaku couldn't even name you the last five families who'd had control of it. At least the last two rulers had gained some semblance of stability over the place. In the most recent coup, the prior King, Urahara, had abdicated and was banished. There was no reason to assume he was dead, but he hadn't been seen since, his whereabouts unknown. Ikkaku had seen his portrait in a book before.
In any case, his father had explained when he was younger that power in the Fugai changed hands so many times because Fugaijin were creeps and charlatans, and were quick to stab allies in the back for their own personal gain – which explained why he'd been so reluctant when Ikkaku had begged to try and marry Princess Nemu. Hey, maybe his dad was coming out of his ways and becoming a little more open-minded.
Or, more likely, this would give Zaraki a trade advantage to be able to run easily into the Fugai. It was admittedly a strategic spot to place military outposts. Whatever, as long as he and the princess could be together.
In any case, he could tell his father was suspicious and on his guard, because he didn't trust magic or fae folk or the people who lived in the Junrinan, which was quite nearby, the forest blending into that of the Fugai around the foot of the mountain. Ikkaku knew there was nothing to worry about though, because there were hardly any of those kind of people living in the West, and that included the Fugai, no matter how spooky it seemed.
He'd been told once, he didn't remember by who, that there was magic in the East and not in the West because long ago in the West, hearts had gone rotten with greed.
Anyway the point was, the last place men had lived among the fae in the West had indeed been in the Fugai, with the previous king, Urahara, who'd of course been thrown out, and with him, the few remaining fair folk had fled back into the magical forest.
Ikkaku had been a bit ambiguous for a while about the idea of his father coming along, not wanting to be on the scene if some sort of argument were to break out – because honestly, his dad could be kind of a racist – but his father had ended up coming, and he wasn't about to disobey or disagree with him.
In any case, it might be nice to get his perspective and see how he reacted to his future bride and her family.
Then again, it might be a bad idea. After all, in preparation for marriage and partnership, Ikkaku'd taken a good look at himself, and he could admit he was probably psychologically damaged considering the environment he'd grown up in, the violence, and specifically the violence surrounding his family line and his parents' relationship. Not that they were ever harsh with each other in front of him, but it had to have an effect on a child to grow up seeing the two horrible scars his parents had inflicted on each other, the one on his mother's chest and that on his father's face.
They loved each other, he knew, and they got along well. He wanted that kind of relationship with his own wife, but without the violent beginnings. In any case, he can't really ask his father for advice when it came to winning the heart of a lady, because there's no way his father knows, considering his parents had tried to kill each other upon first meeting.
It won't be like that with him and Princess Nemu. He isn't like his dad, he can change.
At last they arrived at the gloomy chateau after passing countless quiet villages secreted away in the trees. Ikkaku could hardly contain himself as they finally – finally – dismounted and were able to stretch their legs and change their muddy clothes.
He practically vibrated with excitement when their two families were presented to each other later just inside the gates. King Kurotsuchi, the Prince Akon, and of course, Princess Nemu, on one side, had come out to greet them, and on the other, he and his father, the Kempachi. His mother was understandably absent due to her health.
Ikkaku gazed at Princess Nemu with his lips parted. He hasn't seen her in many years, and look at how they'd both grown up. She was so beautiful, he thinks he loves her right then, so gentle and sweet. Ikkaku peeked up at her as he bowed at his father's side. Her eyes were lowered as she curtsied in response at the same time as her brother and father bowed back.
Ikkaku felt his father shove his head down when he peeked up for too long.
There would be a diplomatic dinner later on, and for now, he and Nemu wouldn't have much chance to talk to each other directly, but as their parents walked off to meet in a more appropriate setting, some hall, Ikkaku assumed, and as Prince Akon gave the two of them a parting look before beckoning them on, Ikkaku glowed with excitement and happiness.
When Princess Nemu's brother turned his back, Ikkaku reached a palm out to her, halfway, because it wouldn't do to grab her hand if she didn't want to.
"Princess," he said, trying to contain a smile and maintain some dignity. "I'm glad to see you."
She did take his hand, wordlessly, and Ikkaku felt full of the joys of spring. He closed his grasp around hers, so small and lovely, and bent to kiss her knuckles, then let her go.
He held an arm out to show her to go in front of him, and then walked at her side after their fathers.
Ikkaku was a little glad his father had come along after all, because although it meant their parents were lurking in a corner, chaperoning and talking business – thankfully, the two kings seemed to be getting along, despite his father's persistent scowl – it also meant that Ikkaku could occupy himself completely with the Princess and avoid talking to her father, King Kurotsuchi, as much as possible.
The guy was literally insane.
There was still this vague annoyance to know that people were watching the two of them – Ikkaku didn't like to feel spied on – but it was hard to stay focused on that with his heart glowing with happiness at just looking at her. She didn't talk much or smile, too demure and modest to do so, but Ikkaku felt warm just to sit across from her and watch her sip her wine.
He tasted his too and tried not to grimace at the sour taste. At home, he usually drank spirits. Just another thing he'll have to get used to.
Ikkaku found out later during dinner that he must undergo some tasks to be allowed to wed Nemu and crown her as his princess. To prevent being impolite, he tried not to say anything at all as King Kurotsuchi turned his attention on him directly at last – sort of – god, the guy was notoriously rude. He just nodded his acknowledgement frequently as he was told what he must do.
He'd expected this of course, as even in his own country, he would have to prove himself ready to be a husband.
Straight from the king's lips, he must prove his strength, wit, virtue, and worthiness, or he will never win his daughter, Nemu's, hand.
Ikkaku was confident enough. He felt he might do anything if only to have her at his side.
That night, although he'd thought everything had gone well enough and was floating on cloud nine, his father saw things differently.
"What?" he asked, when the Kempachi continued scowling uneasily and grunting his displeasure.
"He's making this as difficult as possible on purpose," his father warned.
"What do you mean, Kempachi?"
"He knows you're bullheaded," Kempachi clarified, jabbing him in the chest. Ikkaku looked down at the place he'd been poked and then rubbed it, wrinkling his nose at his dad. "And you'll make a mistake, and that's all the excuse these Fugaijin need to back out on a promise."
"Father," Ikkaku groaned, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't bother resisting the way his shoulders drooped in exasperation and how his hand went to his brow. "That's a generalization."
"In any case!" the Kempachi insisted. "How witty are you, really? You think whatever mind puzzle he'll come up with, you'll be up to the task? They're all… scientists here," he said with palpable distaste, as if the very idea were baffling to him.
"I'd do anything for Princess Nemu!" Ikkaku said, puffing up indignantly.
"Even study?" Kenpachi raised an eyebrow skeptically, which Ikkaku didn't appreciate.
"Yes!"
They both scowled at each other and folded their arms with a grunt, but eventually King Kenpachi said flatly, giving him a look that didn't inspire much confidence, "I suspect we'll be coming back here quite a few times before any wedding announcements are made."
"Mark me, Father, she will be my queen," Ikkaku insisted. "I won't give in until she's at my side."
"Yeah, yeah, you kids romanticize everything these days."
"Didn't you search for Mom for like, ten years?" The Kempachi whacked him upside the head.
"Shut up that sass."
Ikkaku turned his nose up, growing distracted when he wondered the next time he might see Princess Nemu and get to know her better. After all, while he was proving he could be her husband, he still wanted to devote some times to learning what she liked and how he could make her happy in their personal lives.
"Anyway, you're not allowed to talk to her again until you prove your strength."
"What!" Ikkaku burst, aghast, "The whole time we're here, I can't see her?!"
The Kempachi knocked him on the shoulder and the back of the head with a few heavy pats meant in solidarity. Ikkaku braced himself against the rough comfort, taking heart. "Show the Northern spirit," his father said with very little concern. "You can court her if you do."
"If I don't, I can't even talk to her?" Ikkaku said glumly, although he didn't doubt his abilities. It just kind of sucked.
He shrugged. "Shouldn't be hard for you anyway. If I know my boy, the task of strength will be the only easy one."
Ikkaku huffed through his nose like an angry bull. "Please stop doubting me, Kempachi!" he snapped as politely as possible and then stormed away, his cheeks red and fuming.
When it came to his father, Ikkaku operated best when he was doubted or belittled – not too much, of course – because he starved for nothing more than the Kempachi's approval. That being said, driven, the trial by strength was easy enough indeed.
The very next day, Ikkaku did distance shots with arrows and spears out in one of the few areas of the Fugai where one could catch sight of the sky, a training field where trees had been removed. A trial by fire was probably taking it a bit far, but that was fairly simple as well, considering his strength of will. In the following days, Ikkaku fought and killed a beast for Nemu out in the dark dank gloom of the swamp, bringing home the fur off its back.
He thought twice about giving it to her – what if she loved animals?
Anyway, apparently, all that was enough to prove his strength – of will, of character, of body, of whatever other definition there might be to judge strength – to Princess Nemu, and more importantly, her father, the king. To his relief, he was allowed to court Nemu for the week remaining that they would be there.
He only hoped his own father wouldn't go stir crazy in the claustrophobic woods and chateau with that mad man before it was time to go home.
At first he didn't know where to go to find her, because it wouldn't be right to go to Princess Nemu's room – his mind recoiled from the mere thought like a hand from hot coals. After asking a few passing servants and getting no answers, at last he met Prince Akon by chance as he walked out of what looked like a library, and god, the stench coming out of the room was suffocating.
Ikkaku resisted the itch to sneeze. "Akon!" he called, then caught himself when all he got was the cold raise of an eyebrow. "Uhh, Prince Akon, I mean – Can I ask, where can I meet with your- with uh, Princess Nemu," he bungled. God, when he had to actually think about what he was trying to say, he almost forgot how to speak altogether. He wasn't used to talking to another person his age - or any other age, really - with any degree of respect.
Maybe spending so much time in the foothill towns with brigands and bandits as a teenager hadn't been a good idea. It'd been damn fun though.
"My sister is likely studying, or in the garden," Akon replied, after staring at him for a long time with dark sullen eyes. Ikkaku had thought with hope the first few days that the two of them might become buddies or something like it, but Prince Akon sure didn't seem to know how to have fun. It was at least easier to know what he was thinking, since he talked more than Princess Nemu did.
Problem was, what Akon thought of him was clearly a brute who was dumb as a stump.
"The garden?" he repeated, feeling even dumber and more helpless, because… the entire chateau seemed to be surrounded by crumbling stone and overgrown hedges. Were there gardens at all? It just seemed like the whole place had been swallowed by woods and swamp. Some of that was actually garden?
"Behind the chateau," Akon said in the same flat tone as everything else. Ikkaku must have blinked blankly enough that Akon took pity, because he called back into the library and had a servant – Rin – show him where to go.
Apparently, Princess Nemu liked to be in this garden quite a lot. Ikkaku couldn't see why, because it wasn't nearly as pretty as his mother's garden with the magical tree, but there were still some fountains and statues underneath the wild vines choking and coating them. The trees and bushes were all gnarled up though, as if they'd hardly been tended a day in their lives. There were some flowers, of course, which made the garden a bit less spooky and gloomy. Ikkaku figured he could get used to it if he had to, because despite the untended state of the garden, it was still lovely, he supposed, just like the Princess.
Ikkaku was happy to get some time to talk to her alone. Well of course, they were never really alone together. Even now, there were gardeners around somewhere, just out of sight and spying on them, he was sure. That Rin character was probably lurking by the gates too, but Ikkaku had come to accept it. This was just how their lives were going to be, and hopefully it would decrease once they were married.
"Princess," he greeted her, finding her on a stone bench, reading a book. She looked up at his approach. He reached out to take her hand and kissed it.
Ahh, he liked her a lot. Their children, if they had some, would be lovely and strong. Nemu looks like his mother sort of – at least, she was beautiful in the same way he'd been taught women were beautiful, growing up. She was quiet like his mom was too, but not in a serene or deadly sort of way, but in an almost unsettling one. It made him feel like his excitement at meeting her and being engaged to her wasn't reciprocated. If it was, she certainly didn't show it.
Somehow, he can't quite imagine the relationship between his mother and father existing between him and Nemu, but he wanted to get there. That was partly why in the North, to become an adult, one had to partner up in some way – to prove that you could function in society and coexist with another person. If you could love someone as much as yourself, create a family in some form, you could understand and value community, could feel love and loyalty to one's country, as though it were an extension of that family. It was something Ikkaku promised himself he'd work hard at, to gain Nemu's trust, and if she didn't like him yet, he hoped she would someday.
Perhaps one day, like his parents, they might love each other very much. Perhaps one day they would rule together in blood, and like his mother and father, he would rule as Kempachi with Nemu at his side as his Empress. United, they'd be a formidable alliance, the mysterious chemical warfare of the Fugai paired with the brute force of the North's manpower.
And most importantly, Ikkaku felt, they might even bring each other much happiness as well.
He spent his afternoons with Nemu, sometimes sitting with her in the garden and yakking away about his fights against the raiders of the North Sea, and sometimes urging her to show him around the chateau. At last, it was the final day of their visit and it was time to say goodbye.
Ikkaku decided to give her the locket then. "Princess, I have something for you," he told her when they were beneath a large tree near several headless statues in the garden. He took her hands and placed the gift in it.
She didn't say anything, but looked at the necklace and moved it so that it shone and sparkled in the low light. Ikkaku watched for a few moments in anticipation, but his excitement began to falter. He'd been expecting a smile, but she'd hardly reacted. She hadn't even smiled a little bit.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"Thank you," she said, and Ikkaku beamed. As she held it up, Ikkaku could see her face reflecting in the red stones.
"I'll help you put it on," he offered. She tilted her neck and allowed him to place it around her. It took him a few tries to close the clasp, and then he leaned back, happy to see it gleaming on her pretty neck. The jewels were dark like blood against her fair chest.
"Ah," Ikkaku said, rubbing the back of his head with a half-smile. "It actually opens up. You can look inside when you're alone," he told her, "If you want."
They walked back into the chateau together and at last it was time for them to part. "I'll see you again soon, Princess," he said, gazing into her pretty face with longing. As much as he missed home, he didn't want to say goodbye.
On the ride back, Ikkaku grew bored, and on the last couple days before arriving in Zaraki, Ikkaku broke some rules and had Renji come up and walk next to his horse for a while. No one said anything because he was the prince, of course, although Renji kept glancing about nervously for some time as if he was going to get into trouble, as if Ikkaku hadn't clearly told him to walk there at his side!
Ikkaku bragged for a while and rattled on about how pretty and smart Princess Nemu was until his father snorted and rode on ahead of him, leaving him to chatter at Renji on his own. Renji seemed pleased enough to listen along, glancing up frequently despite tripping over branches repeatedly. After a while however, he seemed to fall into his own daydreams, noticeably distracted.
"Hey, you listening?" Ikkaku asked with a scowl, knocking Renji in the shoulder with his foot.
"Yes!" Renji said hurriedly, "My apologies, M'lord."
Ikkaku frowned in contemplation when Renji became distracted again not thirty seconds later. He asked after his quietness, and Renji looked at his feet, seeming to… Was he blushing?
Renji told him then about a boy he'd seen working in the Kuchiki rice fields. Ikkaku blinked and frowned at the strange glow to his face, just talking about it. "Prince Ikkaku, he had golden hair, do you think that might mean," Renji wondered, clearly absolutely silly for this peasant – but then, Ikkaku supposed it was right that like should attract like. "Do you think that means he was brought to the Junrinan, sir?"
"I don't see why he would be, he's just a peasant farmer," Ikkaku muttered, not much concerned with Renji's feelings of affection for this boy, whoever it was, beyond his fascination with the expression on Renji's face. He doesn't think he's ever seen his eyes shine like that, with such fervor. He's in love, isn't he. Ahh, he's such a simple man.
Thoughtlessly, Renji blurted out of turn, "But I-" but then immediately shut his mouth hard. "Forgive me, M'lord."
"What?" Renji remained stubbornly silent, not making eye contact. "Say what you were going to say," Ikkaku demanded with his eyebrows drawn down.
"It was rubbish-nonsense." Renji swallowed, in a cold sweat.
"I tell you, say it."
He shook his head desperately. "Please, my prince, I-"
"Don't test me, Renji," Ikkaku insisted.
Renji, with his shoulders hunched in, mumbled, "I was only going to say, sir, that I was also taken to the Junrinan, even though I'm not worth much of anything. I thought he might have been too."
"Hmph," Ikkaku muttered sourly, but largely brushed it off, not liking to admit or acknowledge when someone corrected him, which was probably why Renji had resisted repeating it.
"In any case, I'm glad to go home," he said. "I want to meet with Yumichika again." He felt happy just saying it. He'd forgotten about it since he'd been so occupied with Princess Nemu, but now he was looking forward to getting back home.
"Yumichika, sir?" Renji wondered attentively, on his best behavior after the relief of being let off that easily for contradicting his betters.
"Oh," Ikkaku said brightly. "The fae I met in the garden," he clarified. "Remember?"
Renji didn't seem as excited as he was, sticking his lip out in concern. "The fae?… Is it safe, my prince?"
Ikkaku gave a fond smile. It was endearing that Renji might worry about him even when there was no need. "I won't let my guard down," he reassured nonetheless.
That night, Ikkaku went out into the garden to meet Yumichika under the apple tree. Sure enough, Yumichika came, and transformed just as before.
They stood there and smiled at each other for a few moments, Yumichika in amusement, Ikkaku, still swept away by Yumichika's incredible beauty and his enchanting demeanor. He practically squirmed where he stood, hands at his sides, coiling and uncoiling. He felt like seizing him in a hug and laughing, feeling like an excited puppy or a small child - of course, he didn't. Who know what offense that might cause.
"I'd thought you wouldn't come back," Yumichika said, tilting his head, his hair spilling over his shoulder, dark and lovely against his crisp white yukata.
"I thought the same," Ikkaku said breathlessly, happier than ever to see his friend again. "I'd gone away," he explained, and they sat together in the shade beneath the tree, close enough that Ikkaku could feel the warmth of his skin, see his individual eyelashes as they fluttered above his luminous violet eyes.
"How far have you journeyed?" Yumichika questioned, and Ikkaku, as pleased as ever to hear genuine interest in his affairs, obliged.
"I've been to the Fugai to see my future wife," he said with a proud smile.
Yumichika's eyes sparkled, his lips drawn in an indulgent smile. "What is she like?"
"She's a beautiful princess," Ikkaku gushed, not nearly bored of talking about her. "Gentle and sweet," he told him with a smile, then furrowed his brow. "And mysterious." Leaning back on his palms, stretching out in the warm grass, Ikkaku hummed contentedly, "My duties as a prince won't be a hardship at all."
"Your excitement glows through your eyes," Yumichika noted with a fond quirk to his lip. Ikkaku rubbed the back of his neck, nose crinkling in a grin. He wondered if it was as obvious on his face as it was on Renji's for that peasant boy.
"Heh', well," he brushed away, and then inquired with fascination and wonder, "What about you, Yumichika, what have you been up to?"
"We've flown far and wide each night, over the peak of the mountain into the Far East." Ikkaku eyes boggled, his mouth ajar in awe. He sat up, feet flat on the ground, and leaned his elbows on his bent knees, eager to hear more.
"You've been to the Far East?" he gaped, which was sort of a stupid question considering Yumichika was a fae, and fae love to play in the East, so he was told. His father didn't tell him much else about the place, but his mother was from there, and she said it was beautiful, like heaven come down to the earth.
"What's it look like on the other side? What are the people like? Do you come back every night, or just when you feel like visiting?" he pestered, enraptured. Yumichika smiled.
He answered all of Ikkaku's questions, as many as they came, and with every slow picturesque description of the rolling countryside, the intricate palaces, and the kind-hearted, carefree, generous people, Yumichika's story-telling painted the likeness of an amazing lovely place in Ikkaku's head.
There was little the prince loved more than a good story, and fae were notoriously skilled at the craft. Sure enough, the more he was taken in by Yumichika's tale, the more he didn't want the sun to rise.
They talked late into the night, and as the dawn broke and Yumichika promised to return tomorrow, Ikkaku found himself absolutely charmed. He doesn't think he's had a friend who would sit and talk with him in such a carefree manner since he was very small.
…
The enjoyment of being taken back into Prince Ikkaku's friendship somewhat has completely worn off, particularly now that they'd come home from the Fugai. Captain Hisagi had long since lost patience with him.
Renji wasn't stupid. He knew it was blatant jealousy. Hisagi Shuuhei was captain of the guard and what should be Ikkaku's closest advisor, but lately, Ikkaku had been confiding in him, even going so far to entrust him with a precious treasure, not even to mention letting him in on secret matters such as the whole apple thievery debacle – Prince Ikkaku has come to him, the lowly stable hand, rekindling the friendship of their younger days.
Despite their offhand physical relationship, Captain Hisagi has been growing openly nasty and jealous of Renji's favor with the prince and the time they were spending together all of a sudden. Renji knew that he was pushing his luck extremely thin, but it wasn't as if he could refuse the prince his requests just to appease Hisagi. Prince Ikkaku kept asking him to accompany him to the garden while he met his fae friend, even though he fell asleep there each night rather than keeping any kind of watch. He didn't know why he insisted on it, but Renji can't tell him no, and therefore can't escape Hisagi's ever-increasing bitterness.
He'd cornered him several times now, having seen Renji and Prince Ikkaku's exchange in the stable weeks prior. Renji had known Captain Hisagi had seen him give Prince Ikkaku that golden apple and knew he hadn't heard the last of it – and sure enough, Hisagi interrogated him with near incessance, every time they were alone.
Once Renji realized that Hisagi could not make out the mystery of the apple tree and why Prince Ikkaku went there so regularly, he'd resolved to himself not to speak, at any cost. Hisagi asked after it many times, looming in his face and intimidating him, but Renji was tight lipped and stubborn.
At last, growing demanding and uncompromising, Hisagi came to him late at night in the stable and dragged him awake with none of the gentleness – however unfeeling it had been even in the beginning – he'd used in the past.
But Renji would not speak. That hope glowing in his heart that he might regain Prince Ikkaku's friendship, that he might quench the loneliness he felt at losing the few who had loved him in his childhood – he could not betray that hope. He would not break the trust Prince Ikkaku had placed in him, no matter how Hisagi was cruel and cold to him, no matter how he suffered.
"I'll teach you to defy me," Hisagi hissed, hand gripping his hair tight, standing above him. Renji grit his teeth, but stuck his chin up and would not speak. "You sit there in silence still, you stubborn-ass – you won't be able to speak for a week when I'm through with you."
Renji refused still, not rising to the threat, and choked on his silence.
When Renji was alone, having been tossed into the hay, he wiped his tongue on his arm to get the taste out of his mouth after servicing him. He felt hollow inside and he ached and he ached and he ached.
He lays on his back in the itchy straw and thought of that boy and wondered with all his might if he'd ever see him again.
That night was restless when he finally found sleep. The darkness called, empty and gaping like an echo chamber made to reflect and rebound his pain a hundred times over.
"Where are you?" he called. "Why did you leave me there?"
Holding his chest, he tried to hold himself together, tried to rip the hole out, tried to keep his heart inside, tried to expel the grief and sadness.
"Please, come back to me," he begged, "The loneliness, I can't bear it any longer." Voice cracking, he whispered, "I've been so lonely."
"No longer."
Renji shook his head, his face streaming with pained tears. He hiccuped. It can't be true. It just can't be. If he wakes up to find it was all a lie, he won't be able to go on.
"Look, my child. Look on this gift and count yourself lucky." He could feel it even if he could not see it, could sense it though he could not hear it.
"Look," came the whisper. "Dry your eyes and look."
Renji approached, and the darkness lifted just enough that he was able to squint and peer about, finding that he was in a dark grove of bamboo. He stepped forward slowly, stumbling along towards a small clearing where there were no bamboo stalks, just enough of a space to stand. The grass there was brilliantly yellow-green, and a thick stump of bamboo was chopped off at about hip height.
Renji moved towards it with caution, sniffing and wiping his cheeks. On top of the bamboo stump was a... seed? He squatted in front of it, peering closely, and then picked up the large pod, cupping it in his palms.
He gazed down at it and watched as it opened in his hands, the insides glowing ruby red. His heart filled with amazement and the tears flowed.
"One day you will be lonely no more."
Heart yet dancing with hope, Renji woke up.