just a lil zen contemplation x short tho aha

THIRTY-SIX – Sinking Into The Red

15 Days Until The Wedding

"Mm…"

A buzzing hum came from the slouched Prince. The blonde and turquoise-haired aides stood with proper posture, both pair of eyes glued on the white-haired royal before them. Kiki noticed how slow Zen had been dragging the quill along the parchment. She noticed him biting his bottom puce lip, not in anxiety but rather with a desire to chew or gnaw. His azure eyes were much dimmer and hollow, lifeless essentially. Those eyelids of his as well kept threatening to close completely, as Zen would catch himself dozing and quickly regained himself from the crinkling of his nose. Mitsuhide just noticed a splotch of dirt upon the shoulder blade of his blazer.

"Zen, are you feeling alright?" Kiki spoke softly, genuine concern jumping off her tongue as Zen dropped his inked pen and let out a heavy sigh. "Sir?" Zen dropped his elbows on the desk, bending them with his hands open to hold his face. He nuzzled into those hands, feeling the callouses and dryness of them with distaste. They dent into his skin with ease as all his cares were at it's low.

"I hope," Zen groaned. "I've been feeling a little under the weather."

"D'you want to go to the medical wing?" Kiki suggested quietly, staring warily as Zen slowly rose from his desk. She heard his bones crack from the sudden stretch, as he hasn't really moved much the entire day. His muscles must be incredibly stiff.

Zen waved her off as he used one hand to lean against his desk. "No, that's quite alright…" His head felt heavy, his aides suddenly going double as his periphery darkened to a shadowy black. He lost his balanced for a moment, falling against his desk to keep himself up. Emitting irritated grunts, he brings his free hand up to cover his forehead. It was searing.

"You're very unwell," Kiki quickly spewed, walking promptly over the boy to hold him securely by his upper arm. Zen couldn't bother swatting her away, as Kiki knows everything instantly and knows what's best all the time. She quickly but gently slapped his hand away and felt the forehead for herself. He was incredibly warm, more warm than healthy. "You need to see a pharmacist."

Jolts of pain strike at Zen's stomach, following a loud gurgling.

"I-I'm fine, you guys, seriously-."

"We're going to the medical wing," Mitsuhide immediately insisted. Zen met those brown orbs and immediately knew he lost. Those eyes were drowning with worry, refusing to be washed out by Zen's stubbornness. Kiki guided Zen away from his desk, having Zen drag his hand until it was off. A few documents flew off and sprawled about, but the Prince couldn't be bothered with it.

Mitsuhide clung onto his free arm, helping Kiki a great deal as they pulled open the double doors and began trotting down a corridor. "God, I shouldn't see her," Zen whispered nervously to himself, having the two aides allow the words to dissolve in air as they responded to him in silence. "…But I want to, so bad…"

Zen knew he was sick. He knew that he had suddenly become a monstrous being towards the person that touched him and woke him up to true happiness. He was selfish, and cruel, and all sorts of untrustworthy that Shirayuki doesn't deserve to endure. He's holed himself in his office during free time, knowing as fact that if he was out, he'd be searching for her. And that very thought brought a disgusting taste into Zen's mouth.

But what can he do? He caused all of this and as much as he wants to reverse it and deny it, he can't. Prince Zen of Wistalia is to be wedded with Princess Elizabeth Knight of her state. He is to be betrothed to this petite item in 15 days. 2 weeks and a day. He has several, several hours to waste on dwelling about in his quarters and thinking about the dollop of red that has taken over his life by its rarity. God, since when did he become so pathetic?

Zen's eyes were clouded, very unfocused as Mitsuhide and Kiki practically began to drag him down the corridors. He started losing sense in his legs after admitting defeat to his mind. There was so much to think about, so much to regret with a high dosage of self-loathe. The Prince could no longer use his brain productively to keep his body up and moving. He looked over to Kiki, before going over to Mitsuhide, apology in his eyes as they passed several worried guards and maids.

"Ryu!" Kiki quickly sounded, reeling Zen back to reality a bit more as he found himself in the office shared by said boys name and the red dollop of his life. Mitsuhide took reign and sat him in a stool, his hands crawled up to his shoulders to hold the Prince up properly. "The Prince isn't feeling well—we don't know what it is."

Quickly, the small boy came to view, standing before the slightly slouched Prince. Zen could see his aqua orbs, looking as clear as the oceans by islands, the pebbles worth of his pupils threatening to cause ripples. Ryu was much more pale than a few moments ago, his small hand brought up to Zen's forehead and neck.

"He's probably gaining a fever," Ryu muttered informatively, holding onto the sharp jawline of the Prince, to tilt his head. His now weak skin was devoid of warmth and his usual tan self. "Miss Kiki, if you can bring Miss Garak over so she can test his blood and its current properties. We'll have to wait for Shirayuki to come to get the concrete details for herself."

"Sh-Shirayuki?" Zen murmured weakly, the sight of Ryu going triple as Zen diverted his eyes around the room. He saw Kiki leave with a purple streak, feeling Mitsuhide's grip tighten as Ryu kept his stare on the Prince. "Where is she?"

"She's likely still out in the town," Ryu informed simply. Just as Zen figured. "She wanted to get a few things as well as take herself a day off out of the castle."

"A-and Obi?"

"He accompanied her." Of course he did. Zen raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he knew exactly where those two were and the fact that they went together. He watched them, the beautiful red-haired girl who was walking right beside and protected by the scary man with cat eyes. He saw them leave, their beating hearts right next to each other as they became distant from his own. "She should be back soon," Ryu lightly spewed.

"Ah." Zen's mouth went dry. Trickles of sweat were slowly beginning to form, oozing through the pores of his body to add brilliance to his skin. Ryu widened his eyes at this and reeled his hands away, looking down to find them moist. Zen gave him apologetic eyes as he leaned back against Mitsuhide's board-like front. He felt dizzy, so lightheaded that he was sure he will fall and pass out if Mitsuhide let go of his hands for a second. And that, of course, was no good.

Sound began to fade, everything had been spinning. In Zen's head, he could see colors, colors that don't go together, begin to fuse and mesh into an eyesore-conjuring entity. He could still feel the flesh colors of Ryu, but more horizontal and dim as his eyelids began to fall down. All these colors were so bland, so generic and repetitive. There was no splash of new, or anything he really wanted to see. He just wanted the throbbing in his brain to stop, for his heart beat not to sound so loudly in his ears.

But then, it was the erupt laughter of a gentle voice that brought Zen back into everything. Ryu's slapping wasn't as effective as that soft voice that meant more than the world to the Prince. He diverted the clouded eyes over to the doorway, knowing that distant voice was only coming closer and closer. But then it stopped, another voice interjecting, before the clattering of boots and heels and all sorts of thudding sounds came into play. They were coming, and they were coming fast.

Then there it was: the blurry bubble of crimson.

"Shira… yuki?" Zen muttered, opening his eyes as much as he can as he saw her drop her wood woven basket and rush over to him. His vision was shaky, but he tried desperately to focus it so he could see her face much clearly. And it worked, no surprise about that. The large emerald eyes were right before his, her poppy seed pupils wide and diverting every which way around his face to see his details. Zen could see the green color shake a bit, feeling her petite hands snake up his neck to cup the heat that he had been producing without wanting to. "Shirayu-."

"Prince, hush for a moment." He obliged as the intoxicating scent of her breath entered his nostrils. She smelled of peaches and berries, the sappy, sugary, sweetness of the juicy, plump edibles. His eyes went down to see the residuum of her treat upon her oddly plump and swollen lips. The saccharine stickiness resided upon her soft, rose lips, having them glisten against the lantern lights lit in the office. He wondered what they tasted like, and if he can play off an accidental forward fall just to connect his lips with hers. Just for a moment of pleasure and happiness he hasn't felt since his engagement announcement. "His eyes—they keep falling. Obi, get me one of the peach."

Oh? Zen raised his brows. Obi is here, too? His azure eyes departed from the pleasuring sight of the herbalist in search of his firsthand scoundrel. And sauntering over to Ryu's desk, he found the tall man beside it, arms behind him with amber eyes dim and full of worry: the only thing Zen is seeing. He noticed that Obi's rouge lips were too somewhat bigger and bugling, but Zen couldn't find the effort to piece everything out. Either that or the Prince didn't want to accept the reality of those two. So for now he just leered at the man, seeing the heart-throbbing worry in his eyes and the straight line created between his pursed lips. The pale man as well had beads of sweat trickling down his temples, knowing that Obi did love his Master and that'll never falter.

Oh God the excruciating envy that has suddenly taken over Zen's heart was so damn painful. He hated how Obi smiled down at her, indulging in the very light that everyone saw in her and instantly had them wrapped around her fingers without even knowing it. The way Shirayuki gifted him not only her presence, but her words and that precious laughter and the smell of strawberries and life. He hated how Obi was probably the one now hugging her when she cries, helping her up when she falls, and giving her the sweet, supple kisses that were disgustingly sappy but incredible.

Zen gives him one last good look before going back to the beauty that suddenly pricked into the bend of his elbow with a needle. He winced. "…I just need a bit, okay?" Shirayuki spoke softly, her lips curt and a pretty blossom shade danced upon her lips. Her emerald eyes glistened momentarily at him before the pupils diverted down to his pierced arm. "Obi, pass me one of the peaches."

"Yes!" Zen listened as Obi obliged, moving away from a box that suddenly appeared to go over to Shirayuki's basket. He rummaged through and grabbed out a peach, the fuzzy, warm-colored entity being held by the servant before he offering it to Shirayuki.

"Thank you, Obi," Shirayuki spoke warmly, a small smile appearing on her face for literally a second before it dropped. She then met Zen's eyes, her pupils flickering with… what is it, discomfort? She lifted up the fruit and held it right in front of Zen's lips. "Eat." Never daring to deny her requests, Zen, weakly opened wide and gritted his pearly whites down. Juice spewed away in drops as the saccharine goodness intoxicated his taste buds. It surged through his body, a sudden energy coming through from the sweetness of it.

"What's the peach going to do?" Mitsuhide hummed anxiously, still providing Zen with his body to lean against as Shirayuki pulled out the needle and allowed Ryu to patch him up. He felt cotton being pressed down with much pressure as Ryu snapped at Obi to get a few things. Kiki was leaning against the doorway, watching anxiously.

"It's really sweet, the sugars will keep him up with give him a bit of energy," Shirayuki informed as she kept offering it to him. Zen obliged, though weak and not necessarily desiring the fruit, as he took big bites of the bulbous, juicy fruit. But he actually did want it—or really, his stomach wanted it. No, actually—his stomach needed it. "M'also using it to test something…"

Zen ate away at the peach briskly; almost seeming like his life actually depended on it. Shirayuki stared at him wistfully, having him guess that she was taking mental notes as she did not have access to a book and quill. But she did watch him; her eyes squinted with wrinkles at the ends of them, her emerald eyes as dim as a forest in the night. But Zen's heart deflated a bit, noticing that her cheeks were not up and tainted pink from the embarrassment and joy of being so close to him.

No, there was no stammering, no stuttering or broken words. Her eyes were not immensely bright with a shine that used to be given solely to him as she was always delighted to see him. Her lips did not form a smile, regardless of the current situation they were in. Her hands no longer felt right, still soft and smooth yet they no longer held its warmth like they did before. No sweat and clamminess from the nervousness Zen tended to conjure whenever he told her sweet words or stolen kisses.

"D'you mind if I place my hand on your belly for a moment?" Shirayuki hummed, having Zen nod in consent as she began to unbutton his usual royal attire. It would be lewd if the circumstances were completely different, but Zen couldn't even bring himself to delve into such a dirty thought. He allowed her to open him up until he was bare, his torso clammy with sweat and pale from the high anxiety levels. But Shirayuki didn't mind—she was too brave to mind such measly, non-hostile details. Her petite hand brought itself on his belly, with the other away from her as she shook the vial of Zen's crimson DNA.

"W-well?" Mitsuhide hummed nervously, having Zen know as fact that his aide was prepared to release his bowels without intention. He wasn't as freaked out, even though he's currently the victim of this sudden illness. But he knew he was in good hands—after all, he was in Shirayuki's hands. Shirayuki bit down on the tip of her tongue, her eyes diverted elsewhere in the distance as she moved her fingertips around his torso. Zen guessed she could feel his stomach growling, having Shirayuki raise her eyebrows to leer back at the boy.

"Prince," Shirayuki began calmly, gently. Her voice of pure gold. "Have you eaten today?"

Zen froze, feeling blood surge about into his cheeks as the two aides flinched by such a question. It was idiotic, practically ridiculous to think that he would be getting all these symptoms.

"I may have forgotten to eat my 3 daily meals today," Zen muttered quietly. "But I don't feel good—unsteady and sickly."

"Your Highness, you probably have temporary vertigo from your lack of nutrients for the day," Shirayuki said quietly. "If you don't eat, you'll get light-headed with the worst migraine. You have to eat—at least breakfast."

"Will do," Zen murmured in response. Shirayuki huffed, turning around to grab a few things from her basket before turning to the boy. In her hands were another peach, a nice violet plum and an apple, red as her hair. She got Kiki to hold the peach and the plum while she held the apple in her hand. She rubbed it against the chest area of her dress before offering it out to the Prince.

"Eat these and get someone to bring you some bread," Shirayuki hummed as Zen reluctantly grabbed the apple. "Lay off for the night, sleep immediately. You need some food and a goodnights rest so you can operate flawlessly tomorrow. And don't think I won't know—I'll send Ryu up to your office to check your blood again and make sure you eat."

"I will, Shirayuki," Zen muttered with a nod. Mitsuhide grabbed him by his upper arms and brought him to his feet again. The aide slouched beside him, allowing Zen to loosely hang an arm over his shoulder as Zen looked politely at the two herbalists and nodded. "Thank you both for your service. Please have a good rest of the evening."

"To you as well, Your Highness." The two pharmacists spewed simultaneously. Painfully, Zen absorbs one last good look at the red-haired woman before allowing Mitsuhide to drag him out. Kiki quickly rushed to assist, feeling the two on both of his sides as they trudged out of the office and headed straight for his quarters. As they slowly made their way, Zen could hear their voices boom so distantly.

"…Good job, Mistress…"

"It was no biggie…"

"So modest…"

Zen could feel a hug ensue, having him grit his teeth harshly as he continued to make his way to his bedroom. There was a silence between the 3 as they went down the corridors, knowing Zen had been too overwhelmed with going there. She was the reason why he didn't want to go. She was the reason why he has to hole himself in his office. She's the reason why no other woman would ever been perfectly suited for him because she made the standard.

And as he found himself only steps before his room, Zen could only think about how he will only meet one Shirayuki and she no longer is in his hands. And truly, to what extent did he force himself to go to just to not only suffer, but to still sink into the red and drown in pure discomfort?