"I don't like him," Hairu declared.
Ui recoiled as they walked through the palace corridors together. "You shouldn't say such things!"
"Why not?" Hairu demanded, hopping. "I don't like him. I think he's wretched. If he didn't look so much like Yoshitoki I'd think he orchestrated the whole thing, considering how well he's taken to being in power!"
"Keep your voice down!" Ui hissed. He grabbed her arm. "Don't say that!" He couldn't believe Hairu, of all people, would voice such potentially treasonous—
Hairu dropped her head. "Yes, sir."
She might as well have slapped him. Ui swallowed. He didn't like it when formality crept into Hairu's words. As much as he scolded her for her lack of propriety multiple times a day, when it vanishes it's like a cloud spilling shame over his head. "I'm just worried for you."
She scowled. Her eyes brightened as they reached Arima's chambers.
An enchanted sleep, according to Kanou. Even without water and food, the sleeping will live. He should be grateful.
"I wonder how aware he is of what's going on," Hairu whispered as they entered. The drapes were drawn, shrouding the room in shadows. Arima, the knight Ui always admired, the knight who trained him, whom Ui strove to be, lay on his bed, a red coverlet pulled up over his chest, his arms folded over his stomach.
On his very first day as Arima's squire, Arima arranged for him to fence Aura Kiyoko. It went poorly. Ui wound up nursing a twisted ankle, forehead and pride bruised. "Careful your pride doesn't trip you again next time, little boy," Kiyoko told him as he lay on the grass in one of the courtyards, gagging as he tried to regain his breath.
Ui had nodded, dragging himself to his feet. And he reminded himself that Arima had chosen him. Arima believed he had potential. And according to everyone, he had been living up to it, striving to be someone Arima could be proud of, and though Suzuya surpassed Ui in raw talent alone, Ui always felt he had his mentor's support even if not his praise, because praising people was simply something Arima didn't do.
It was wrong to see Arima so frail, so helpless. Guards stood outside his door, outside Shirazu's in the infirmary, outside Shinohara's.
You were supposed to be strong.
Ui knew Arima would not approve of Furuta's antics. But he would capitulate, surely. Arima was obedient to a fault.
Hairu sniffled. Ui almost reached out to her. But he couldn't. It wouldn't be appropriate.
"Do you think he can hear us?" Hairu wondered, glancing at Ui.
He shook his head. "Well, maybe," he amended. "It is an enchanted sleep, after all. I'm not sure there's protocol for what they can or cannot hear."
"Kimi said it was possible," Hairu mused. She stepped closer to Arima. "Arima, it's Hairu. And Koori." Her voice trembled. "We miss you. We want you back." She leaned over, smoothing the blanket.
The air in the room felt stale. Ui blew out his breath.
"Koori," Hairu prompted. She jerked her head.
You want me to say something? But I don't know what to say. Ui clenched his fists. "Wake up… soon. Wake up soon, Arima."
Hairu wandered along the four-poster bed. She wiped at her eyes.
"Hairu," Ui managed. "What—" Why are you so attached to him? He didn't train you. He didn't raise you.
But he might not want to know the answer to that. Something cold and grainy spread through his chest, shivered down his spine. He remembered following his father around, watching as his parents planned their business. They were one of the wealthiest noble families in the kingdom. And yet when Ui wanted to be a knight, his father told him he had no reason to pursue such a career. He would take over his father's business.
And then the kingdom next door was overthrown, and Ui knew he needed to do it anyways. He spoke to Aura Kiyoko when she stayed with his family for a night, asked her to find him a knight to take him under his wing. She warned him very few would bite, would risk upsetting his father.
Arima bit. Arima chose him. And thanks to Arima's prestige, not even Ui's father dared refuse.
He hadn't been home to visit once, and they hadn't been to the palace to see him.
Hairu turned and stalked out of the room. Ui cursed, stumbling after her. She leaned back against one of the pillars in the hallway, gulping in air. Tears shone in her eyes. "I hate seeing him like that. But it's better than not seeing him at all."
Ui nodded. "It hurts."
"He helped me," Hairu said. "When I was a child. He was a squire, and I was—an orphan at the noble orphanage. He smiled at me."
Ui blinked. A simple smile?
You were lonely.
Ui longed to put his hand on her shoulder. She shouldn't feel that way. That gnawing despair, thick sludge of misery, the dark, dank coffin—she was like the embodiment of life itself to Ui. Always smiling. Always focusing on improvement. For Arima.
And now Arima was unconscious, and Ui was here, but he couldn't move, and Hairu didn't see.
Urie dragged his hair back from his face. Another day combing the streets for any sign of a witch. He was beginning to wonder whether King Kichimura Whatever-His-Name-Was just wanted to keep them away from the palace. Though Kaneki said they were preoccupied planning for his coronation. And Kaneki had apparently suggested that commoners be invited to the masked ball, and the king agreed.
Urie had no problem with it, though he worried. What if someone used that as an opportunity to infiltrate the palace? He didn't want to lose anyone again. Not after Shirazu.
It was strange how much he missed the orange-haired boy.
If I hadn't been so stupid, if I'd just gotten Mutsuki to the infirmary and come back, maybe I could've saved him.
It was his fault. So he would protect everyone else in his squad. He had to.
The peasants in the city recoiled in fear every time they saw them. Mothers grabbed children, ducking behind corners. Vendors stared at the cracked pavement in the poorest districts, hoping no one would inquire about where they got their wares, most likely. Even inviting them to the masked ball wouldn't be enough.
They're terrified. Urie never wanted to be looked at like a potential monster. And if the raid showed anything, they are also angry.
Today Suzuya and his new squires joined them. He had been knighted too, for his potential, and because without Shinohara, Abara, Nakarai, and the other squires had no one to lead them. Suzuya plucked at the threads lining his arm, his throat, his face.
"Have you been to visit Sir Shinohara?" queried Mutsuki, almost tripping over a loose cobblestone. Urie's hand shot out to catch him.
Mutsuki smiled, and something warm lit inside Urie's stomach. Probably heartburn from the spicy soup he ate for lunch.
Suzuya shook his head. "I went to see him the first day. I can't, though. Not after that. Abara goes for me. He says someone keeps leaving flowers for him."
Urie swallowed. "Does anyone know how Marude is doing?"
"He's still in the dungeons," stated Abara, eyes downcast. "I think Ui is insisting that if the king executes him, he'll lose support from the remaining knights and nobles, all of whom respect Marude."
"Hmph." Urie grunted. Saiko, Hsiao, and Higemaru ran ahead, chatting with a hairdresser. Aura dragged his feet behind them, with Nakarai and the rest.
"I don't," offered Suzuya. "Respect Marude. Not after all the shit he's said about me. But I don't respect the king either. I think he's a piece of shit who gives all bastards a bad name."
Urie practically choked on his own saliva. Suzuya ought to watch his tongue.
But he wasn't wrong.
Mutsuki gulped.
"But if he can make sure Shinohara wakes up," Suzuya said, looking up at the hazy sky. Smoke rises from a nearby building. "It will all be worth it. He took me in even after that horrible warden of the orphanage lied about me killing cats. And he got me put in the noble orphanage anyways."
"Lied?" Urie didn't understand.
"Yeah," said Suzuya. "Tokage. Bet he wasn't even sorry the plague took almost every child last year. Mutsuki and I met there."
"Oh." Urie glanced at Mutsuki. So his family was gone. Like Urie's. Except Urie's father died recently, and then he lived with friends.
But Mutsuki ducked his head as if he didn't want to discuss his family. Urie wondered if he should ask. No, probably not.
"Good to see you, Rei."
The voice, thick and gloppy, jarred Urie. He turned to see a heavyset woman, face painted, approaching.
"Stay away!" barked Abara, jumping in front of Suzuya with his sword out. Urie threw his arm in front of Mutsuki. What's going on? Who is Rei?
"I see," commented the woman. "So you're a puppet of the palace instead of mine now."
Urie understood then. The clouds finally fell over the sun. "Want me to arrest you for prostitution, bitch?" he snarled. Mutsuki's hand went to his waist, the hilt of his own blade. Ahead, Saiko, Hsiao, and Hige stopped, turning to face them.
"I heard about what happened to your master," crooned the woman, focusing on Suzuya, whose face grayed. "Poor soul. Why did you come to this part of town, if not to see me?"
"I never think about you anymore," Suzuya returned. "All you left me with are—scars."
The woman's face changed. And then Urie noticed. The streets were teeming with people, all of whom were watching. He swallowed. He couldn't even see Aura and the others anymore. Mutsuki met Urie's gaze, eyes wide.
The woman's face twisted. "I never loved—"
Urie thrust his sword at her throat. "Finish that sentence and I'll cut off your ugly head."
Abara covered Suzuya's ears. "You wouldn't have wanted to hear that."
"Urie!" hissed Mutsuki, glancing around. Panic scrabbled at his voice.
A chill ran down Urie's spine. He turned to see a rotten apple fly out. It smacked Urie in the temple. He yelped.
"Cunts!" shouted a face in the crowd, a face Urie couldn't even see. Hands reached out, grabbing for Mutsuki.
"Hell no!" Urie shouted, slashing with his sword. A hand fell to the ground. Mutsuki stumbled behind Urie. Screams echoed, and a surge of people lunged for Urie, for Mutsuki, for Abara.
"Get out of here!" Suzuya bellowed, withdrawing his sword. "Retreat!"
Mutsuki's sword surged past Urie, knocking a knife to the ground and a few fingers with it. Urie gagged. Someone clearly just almost decapitated him. A rock struck Mutsuki's temple, blood streaming. Fuck!
"Lousy rich bastards, let's see how you like getting torn apart!"
Higemaru screamed. Urie recognized the sound from his sessions training with the boy. Urie cut through two people, struggling to get to the boy. Hsiao—there she was. She grabbed Higemaru, hoisting his arms over her shoulders as she made for a back alley. Urie glanced over his shoulder. Aura and the others had vanished up the hill, heading for the horses. Good.
Mutsuki barely dodged a thrown knife, tripping to fall to his knees. He grabbed it and threw it back, skewering someone in the eye.
"I remember you," oozed a raspy voice. Urie turned to see a thin man looming over Mutsuki, grinning.
Urie whipped out his shield and thrust his sword at the man, who ducked. Urie wrapped an arm around Mutsuki's waist, hauling him to his feet. "Run with me!"
Mutsuki clung to him as Urie dragged him to the same alley Hsiao and Hige had disappeared down. Suzuya and Abara fought behind them. "The others—" wheezed Mutsuki.
"They'll make it!" Urie shouted. You won't by yourself. And Urie was not losing anyone else. I promise you, Shirazu. We'll all be here when you wake up.
"Urie!" bellowed Hsiao. Two horses galloped towards him, Hsiao on one of them, and the other bare. Urie swung Mutsuki on first and himself on behind Mutsuki. "I sent Higemaru on ahead with Aura!"
"Good!" Urie shouted. "Yonebayashi?"
Hsiao's face paled. "She's not with Suzuya?"
Urie glanced over his shoulder at the surging crowd. He couldn't see her. No blue. No pigtails.
"Saiko!" screamed Mutsuki.
"Back so soon?" Takizawa asked from where he lay on his back, shredding hay between his fingers.
Kurona scowled, kicking the door shut to the barn. "I saw that stupid squire of Shinohara's. Suzuya."
Amon pried himself away from the bale of hay. Every day Kurona or Takizawa went out and came back with bread or fruit and water or milk. Amon didn't know where they get it and he can't bring himself to ask.
"What's wrong with him?" Amon asked instead.
"What's not wrong with him?" snorted Takizawa. "Arrogant, out of control—"
"He laughed," Kurona said, dropping to the ground and curling her legs up against her chest. "He laughed when Nashiro died. All because that fucking doctor wouldn't help us—too scared of catching plague. At least that was his excuse, but it wasn't real. He just didn't care and Suzuya knew and he laughed. Nashiro was sick—Kanou used to take us into the infirmary before, told us we could become nurses—but when she got sick he said he didn't care anymore. And Suzuya laughed when they burned her body. I saw him watching." Her fist curled. "The only reason he wasn't a victim was because that lord had to take him in. I'm glad he's suffering now, in an enchanted sleep. Now he knows what it's like to lose something that important to you." She met Takizawa's eyes. "I'm glad you let the invaders into the palace, if only for that."
"Why?" Amon demanded, shifting. His leg had fallen asleep, dammit. "Why would that make you happy, that Takizawa's life is ruined?"
Takizawa tilted his head, looking at Amon. His mouth opened in a guffaw. "It can't get any worse. What's left to be afraid of? For either of us?"
Kurona snickered with him. Amon didn't understand. How could they turn their backs so flippantly? They were not bad people. Not like Donato had been. They were good. Just mistaken.
"I left," Kurona said, getting to her knees. "Because if I stayed, I would have attacked Suzuya. And they saw me punch him and wanted to punish me for it. You know the laws about attacking a squire."
Amon swallowed. "But you're an orphan—"
"Who just turned eighteen," Kurona mocked. "And the laws—you think they'd soften them for a nobody whose parents are dead? You think it'd matter?"
Amon rested his forehead against the straw. It scratched. It itched.
"You don't have to be here if you don't want to be," Takizawa said. "I mean, they'll probably take your head if you go back, but you've got more of a chance than either of us do."
"Stop with your pity party!" Amon snarled, glaring at his friend. The ground shook. Amon gulped. "You have it in you to—to redeem yourself! If we just—take down the witch, we'll be—"
"Drawn and quartered," Kurona said dryly. "No thanks. I like my limbs attached."
"They won't do that to a woman." Something smacked against the side of the barn.
"Do you want me to tell you what those guards would do to a woman? Or at you actually that ignorant?"
Takizawa snorted. Kurona smirked.
Shouts echoed outside, and a scream. Hoofbeats.
Kurona scrambled to her feet, eyes flashing. "We gotta hide!"
"What's going on?" Amon demanded.
Takizawa inched towards the doorway, peering outside. "Riot. Hey, Kuro, Suzuya might get pulled limb from limb before we do."
"I'm not that lucky," Kurona returned.
Amon's jaw hung open. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah?" Takizawa looked at him.
Amon grabbed his sword and yanked his cape above his head.
"The fuck are you doing?" Takizawa yelped. Another crunch against the side of the barn. Kurona dove into one of the stalls to hide. Takizawa grabbed his own sword, retreating with Kurona.
"I'm not letting one of our former colleagues get torn apart!" Amon shouted. "I didn't let them hurt you, and I won't let them hurt him!" Takizawa, why are you acting like this? His friend was no coward, and yet Takizawa believed he was.
Amon shoved the door to the barn open, sword in hand. A woman threw a mug of ale against his shoulder. It shattered. Amon cursed, worming his way through the crowd. He spotted two horses. Suzuya and Abara both galloped through the crowd.
"Well, here's one," came a voice. A man with long black hair and eyelids that looked as if they had been cut away stumbled, drool dripping from his lips.
A whimper cut through the useless feelings piling onto Amon. He turned to see someone with a ragged appearance towering over a girl with long blue pigtails. She gaped at him in terror.
Amon lunged. He brought the hilt of his sword down on the man's skull. He fell to the ground. Amon grabbed the girl's arm.
"Amon," she managed.
Yonebayashi. Amon swung his cloak over her. Good thing she was so small. He ushered her into the barn. He probably shouldn't clue her in about Takizawa or Kurona's presence. "Wait here for a bit, until it quiets down. Then get back to the palace."
"You—saved me," she stammered. "I thought you were—a traitor. That's what they've been saying."
Amon shook his head, crouching down. "I'm not. They're—misinformed. Takizawa had the best of intentions—he was backed in a corner—his family—"
Saiko bit her lip. Her turquoise eyes filled with tears. "I believe you."
Amon let out his breath.
"I want to help," Saiko said. "How can I help? The new king—everything he does is scary. Everyone's afraid. He threw Marude into a cell."
A snort that sounded like Kurona came from the stall. Amon coughed. "Pig's back there."
Saiko nodded.
"Mado," Amon said, clutching Saiko's shoulders. "Akira. How—is she?"
Saiko blinked. "Akira's sad. She misses you. And Takizawa."
"Can you get a letter to her?" Amon asked. "You don't have to say it's from you. I just—I need to talk to her." If anyone could help, Akira would.
"I don't have parchment."
Amon swore. "Sorry." Neither did he.
"If you want to talk to her," Saiko said. "There's a masked ball in a week's time. I can help you sneak in. Commoners are invited—just dress like one of them. Steal some clothes."
Amon's throat closed. Sneaking into the palace itself would be a fool's errand. And stealing—he couldn't.
But Akira—if anyone could protect him, she could. She had her father's resolve and her father's intuition.
I just want to do the right thing. When he joined that same orphanage, whispers followed him everywhere, rumors that he might be a witch. And Amon knew he wasn't, but he knew he might as well have been one. He would scrub his hands until they were raw, and Tokage would smack him for wasting soap. But he still felt them under his hands, cutting up the bodies to hide, felt the burlap sacks he used to throw them in the river. And then Donato would buy him a sweet.
I killed for sugar.
He used knives and cleavers at first to threaten Amon into helping. "See them?" he would say. "You could be next."
But that was only once or twice. And then he stayed with Donato, because he had nowhere else to go.
"What a waste. That kid's too far gone," one of the knights had commented after they found him.
"I think you have potential," Mado told him, an uneven smile on his sagging lips.
I'm not like that. I'll be better. I could spend my entire life trying to atone and I'd never make up for it—but I have to try. I have to atone. I have to.
"Tell me you didn't agree to that foolhardy plan," Takizawa said when Saiko left under the cover of darkness. Amon walked her to the edge of the district, watched her steal a horse.
"I have to talk to Akira," Amon said. "She'll—"
"Are we talking about the same Akira?" Takizawa demanded. "What does it matter if you prove yourself better than me?"
"That's not what this is about at all!" Amon shouted. Can't you see it? Can't you see my hands, how red they are? And we don't even have soap!
"You're not a knight anymore!" Takizawa shouted. "And Kuro and I—we can't keep stealing for you, Oh Sir High-and-Mighty! You won't so much as lift a finger but you'll eat whatever we take, because we're clearly not cut from the same cloth as you are! We can sin, but oh no, not even to survive would the valiant Amon Koutarou—"
"Shut up!" Amon bellowed. "Shut up, shut up!"
"Both of you, shut the fuck up," declared Kurona. She tossed an apple at Amon. "Eat. You can hate each other, but neither of you can survive out there on your own. I know that. You know that. Stop trying to sabotage yourselves because you somehow think getting caught will help make everything be all right. It won't make everything all right. It'll just make you dead." She bit into her apple.
"But I want to make it right," Amon insisted. "For all of us." His chest throbbed.
Kurona leaned her head back. "Good fucking luck."
