Yoshio

The hustle and bustle from the ceremony had died down steadily. I could hear the muffled voices of the butlers and maids from beyond my door as I sat quietly at my desk, skimming through my paperwork in silence.

It must have been at least more than four hours since I left the chapel. It was hard to watch Kyouya standing at the altar and watching everything I had worked so hard to do for him, crumble before my eyes. It was in that moment, however, when I realized that my efforts were futile. I suppose they always were since five years ago. I had been so blind by rage and sadness and the jealousy towards King Ryoji. . . it was all so hard for me comprehend in less than a mere night.

I remember catching a glimpse of Fuyumi's face as she stared at Kyouya and Haruhi standing side by side, her eyes glimmering with increasing hope. Somehow I could see how much Fuyumi resembled her mother and I could feel something twist inside my chest that I had not felt since she passed. I knew I had to stop all the madness, especially after Princess Haruhi had burst into the chapel.

"Father?" There was a knock at my door followed by Kyouya's muffled voice. "May I have a word with you?"

"Come in."

The door opened and in stepped Kyouya, still dressed in his wedding attire. I looked up from my paperwork to look at him, signaling for him to speak and I could tell Kyouya was contemplating the right words to say.

"Father, about what you said earlier," Kyouya started.

"I meant what I said, Kyouya," I set down my papers in front of me. "I assume that you and the Princess are now wed?"

". . . Yes."

"Then what is it that has you so worried?"

"You, Father." Kyouya looked me in the eye, completely serious and yet concerned. "Although I appreciate your words of recognition towards my efforts in becoming eligible for the crown, I have to wonder: what changed your mind?"

It was then that I recalled last night when Yuuichi had come into my study. . .

"Yuuichi. It is quite late. What business do you have that you need to see me at this hour?"

"It's about Kyouya," Yuuichi walked towards the chairs in front of my desk. After he settled down in one of them, he spoke again. "Father, this charade of yours—this 'test' for Kyouya to prove himself to you has to stop."

"I beg your pardon? If I remember correctly, you and Akito were fine with this since the beginning."

"Do not get me wrong, Akito and I were for this plan to begin with. We did want to see Kyouya become the strong leader you are and see to the training and work we once had to do. However, that was when Kyouya was younger. Ever since five years ago, nothing has been the same."

"Yuuichi. . . are you trying to tell me that my tactics are not sound?"

"They are not anymore."Yuuichi leaned forward in the chair slightly. "Remember Father? You let Akito and I take part in your evaluation of Kyouya's worth. We have done just that. We believe that he has proven he is ready to take the throne and yet. . . you do not. Why?"

"Kyouya is not ready—"

"He is."

"Kyouya has let his emotions run wild—"

"He seems to be more composed than ever."

"And Kyouya has fallen for that unbearable, flighty, and goof-of-a-King, Ryoji's daughter!"

It was silent for a moment before Yuuichi spoke up. "So there it is. . . Fuyumi was right. Father, you were the one who agreed to let them meet in the first place. Yet, you have constantly changed your actions depending on Kyouya to ruin him."

"Ah. Now this all makes sense—the reason you have come to speak to me—because of Fuyumi?"

"Father. I have always respected the man you were. We all have looked up to you and sought the strength you had as King. But you have been blind by your jealousy and yet you write it off as though you have no emotion. . . I will not repeat the words Fuyumi has said to you before me. My main point to see you tonight, was to give you this." Yuuichi reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a white envelope. It was slightly wrinkled and worn out, like it had been around for a few years, and slid it on my desk towards me. "I also want you to know that, Akito and I are willing to formally renounce our right to throne, should things get any worse."

Slightly annoyed and wary of Yuuichi's threat, I picked up the envelope and opened it. I took out a sheet of paper that I immediately recognized—it was the very same stationary their mother used to love—and when I opened it, the writing was undoubtedly hers. I read every word, hearing my beloved wife's voice ringing through my mind, and I could feel an odd pain in my chest. A horrible, aching pain.

"Mother. . . gave this to me the day before died. She only told me to give this to you if you and Kyouya were to be in some sort of conflict that would ultimately affect everyone in the family. I suppose she knew that something like this would happen. . . What does it say?"

. . .

For once I my life, I did not know how to respond to Kyouya's question. How could I put into words that his Father, the renowned King of the South who eminated fear and demanded respect from everyone and never let his emotions get in his way. . . that he selfishly punished his own son for the inevitiable death of his wife? No. There were no words for me to say; none of which that could express that I was sorry. My pride would not let me say such sentimental things out loud. Not then. Not ever.

I looked Kyouya in the eyes, watching as he waited for me to reply, but silence was the only thing that filled the room. Kyouya kept a straight face and then slightly bowed his head. "Forgive me, Father. I understand if you do not wish to answer. I appreciate having had your blessing—"

I do not quite remember rising up to my feet and walking over to Kyouya. It all happened so suddenly and the next thing I knew, I had Kyouya in an embrace. "I am sorry, Kyouya." I had managed to whisper to him and after a short moment, I felt the warmth of my son's arms wrap around my back.

. . . . . .

Yoshio,

I love you and our children very much. I know you and I know how your temper flares. So please, do not be upset that I am gone and do not take out your frustrations on our little Kyouya. He is not to blame—no one is. None of us could have known that my condition would worsen after Kyouya's birth. So as a Mother, to nurture my child is something I can't help. I needed to protect my baby from the illness I bore, and as a Queen. . . I needed to make sure that a future King of the South can live on.

I want you to be willing to open your heart now. Be forgiving; be kind. If you cannot do this yourself, then most of all, at least let Kyouya be free to love and let him prove to you that he was meant for greatness, like his Father.

Sincerely with love. . .

a/n: I'll try to make this short and sweet! xO I hope you guys liked this! Kind of a quick change for Yoshio. I hope I didn't butcher his seriousness and stuff too much now that he is recognizing his own emotions. And I hope the last bit makes sense! I wanted to show that the mother really was a big part of Yoshio's life and I hope that message came across well. :) READ ON TO THE LAST CHAPTER

~Bliss