Hi again! I gotta keep this story going, no matter what. Hope you guys still enjoy it and keep reading :)

I was wondering: do you prefer happy endings or tragic ones? Of course I love happy endings, but lately I find myself gravitating more towards books/stories with sad ones. It just adds a special element to it and gets me more emotionally invested, especially if it's unexpected. I guess I love a good cry LOL

Enjoy~!

-Chapter 33-

Masamune couldn't sleep that night, his racing heart too much for him to rest. He simply paced between his bedroom and personal study. The light slowly shifted and shone through his windows as the night faded away. A maid came in and deposited breakfast on a silver platter onto his desk, along with strong coffee. He ignored the food but sipped the coffee as he continued to think and think and think. He was thinking of a way to escape, thinking of Ritsu, thinking of the future.

A couple of minutes later, the maid returned with the daily newspaper. As soon as she placed it down onto his desk, he sprang over and snatched it up. He scoured the pages for mention of Ritsu, a revolution, a war, anything…but there was nothing. It did mention the quick failure of Matsumura's visit, but not in great detail. His father had yet to release an official statement.

Every window and possible escape were locked. He supposed he could break a window, but the noise would surely alert the guards posted outside his door. Moreover, there was no way to climb down from his room.

But he needed to escape.

He needed to stop Matsumura and rescue Ritsu from impending death. But the latter couldn't be achieved without the help of An. That was an entirely different challenge.

He began to pray for a miracle.

.

.

.

Of course, Ritsu couldn't sleep that night. The cell was too small to pace, so he settled for laying on the floor, motionless and lost. They were too far underground for any kind of window, so he had no inkling of the time. He could hear the moans of the other prisoners, cries for mercy, and pleas of innocence. Pressing his forehead against the cold stone wall next to him, he prayed for the hundreds of imprisoned voices. They would all be ghosts to haunt him for an eternity, especially if they became lost souls.

By maybe the sixth hour, his own moans of despair threatened to escape. He was growing desperate, his mind sickeningly dizzy about the possibilities. Maybe he could convince a guard to break him out. Or threaten him with a weapon of some kind. He even considered playing dead, anything to get him out. But he had to remain strong. He was a symbol to all his people, free or imprisoned. They couldn't expect him to conquer his throne if he was so weak-willed. He had to believe in himself before they could believe in him.

Ritsu was too lost in thought to have heard the guard coming down the hall. The guard's keys rattled as he put them in Ritsu's cell lock, causing the prince to bolt up. The man placed a black tray down on the floor quickly before relocking and leaving.

'It must be morning,' Ritsu speculated. He inspected his breakfast on the ground – a small mug of water and one thin slice of grimy, pebbly bread.

'It's not breakfast; I don't even think I can call it food,' Ritsu thought as he cautiously picked up the bread. He drained the water quickly, it tasting thicker and grainer than it looked. He refused to even bite the foul bread, throwing it back onto the tray. It was as cold and unforgiving as his cell – as Matsumura. He knew this meal was a deliberate choice: Matsumura wanted to weaken him. He wondered when the interrogation would begin.

As if they had read his mind, the same guard came back less than an hour later. Ritsu decided not to resist as his wrists were bound, this time with rusted metal cuffs. The man took a hold of his arm and escorted him down the hall. Again, Ritsu looked into the cells as he passed. Each wretched soul reached out to him, either praising or cursing his name. His heart ached for each victim; most were suffering because of him, and here he was captured himself, making them hopeless. His own hope swelled however as they approached the upwards stairs. They were heading towards the light, above ground.

But they suddenly turned away from the stairs. They headed to a bolted steel door, huge and uniquely terrifying against the dirt-colored stone wall. Ritsu knew that behind that cold steel was another staircase, but it led downwards into darkness. Down into hellish torment.

His prediction had been right. Sickeningly, dreadfully right.

.

.

.

Masamune was drumming impatient fingers on a window sill when his door opened. He whipped around, hoping it was his father so he could plead with him for freedom. But he huffed in annoyance once he saw it was Yokozawa.

"What do you want?" Masamune said gruffly. The stress and lack of sleep was making his throat hurt.

"To inform you on what is happening on the outside," Yokozawa was unfazed, as professional as ever.

"I already read the paper, thank you," Masamune continued staring outside, eyes searching for any signal or any chance. Anything.

"That has only what the public knows, what they knew yesterday. The monarchy decided to be a bit more private," Yokozawa looked at the untouched breakfast tray disapprovingly, "Your father is giving his public announcement this afternoon."

This piqued Masamune's interest enough for him to turn around. But he stayed by the window, arms crossed, and watched the older man closely, "Is he going to acknowledge Ritsu?"

"Well, it really should not have gotten out that he was planning an assassination, much less Matsumura caught him, but somehow it did. There is too much talk now for the king to ignore – he will have to confirm Ritsu's existence. But that does not mean he supports him," Yokozawa kept his poise, but his jaw tightened when Masamune slammed his palms on the window sill.

"Why?! If Matsumura continues, he'll destroy this whole country! Ritsu is the true king!"

Yokozawa sighed and came closer to Masamune. He looked into the young prince's desperate eyes, witnessing the fear and anger he had. His heart truly ached for the agony Masamune was going through.

"It's not that simple, Your Highness. Trust me, King Takeshi wants to support Prince Ritsu. He loved the Onodera family and wishes to see it restored, but he cannot risk this kingdom too. King Matsumura simply has too much power right now and Prince Ritsu does not have enough. King Takeshi is trying to prevent a war, which is on the horizon. If he joins Prince Ritsu now, he will push King Matsumura over the edge and he will declare war. There is too much at jeopardy."

"Does it truly matter at this point? Matsumura will declare war anyways," Masamune said quietly. He did not want to admit the logic of his father's decision.

Yokozawa responded, "He might, but there is a chance he won't. As long as you are not around, you will not seem to influence your parents and Matsumura might retract previous hostilities. It is the only chance to grasp for right now."

Masamune was silent. He turned back to the window, placing his hands against the sill again. The early morning sun caught several aspects of the garden below, which was not as grand as the Onodera Castle garden. There was no pond like the other royal family's, which flooded Masamune's mind with aching remembrances. Remembering when he reunited with Ritsu at the pond during the Spring Festival, Masamune felt his throat dry up and he swallowed thickly.

"You have to get me out."

It was a simple plead, quiet and desperate. It staggered Yokozawa's heart and mind, riling up emotions he didn't know he had. Masamune knew the royal advisor was his last chance. Deep down, he knew Yokozawa would do anything for his country, anything for its future: its future was Masamune. Now he just had to convince the royal advisor to help.

Yokozawa attempted to sound stern, "Did you not listen to a word I said?"

"I did," Masamune paused, "But I can't leave Ritsu to suffer or to die. None of you may see it now, but rescuing him means saving the country. I have to save him."

The realization hit Yokozawa like lightning, suddenly enlightening him to the true Masamune. To why he had been acting like he had the past few years. To why he was obsessed over Ritsu and foolish enough to do anything. Yokozawa had to take a shaky breath, a very rare feeling of astonishment coming over him.

"…You are in love with him."

Masamune whipped around. He never recalled a time where Yokozawa looked so floored – he was always so steady and unfazed. Masamune considered denying it, scoffing and brushing off Yokozawa. But he couldn't lie anymore, couldn't pretend for anyone anymore. The raven-haired gave one sharp chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down with a crooked smile.

Masamune gave a simple response, "Yes."

Yokozawa blinked rapidly, teetering in his spot in uncertainty. He didn't say another word before exiting.

Yokozawa, please help our boys ;_;

There's still a lot of chapters left, but we're entering the final arc of this story, I promise! What will happen? Dun dun dun….

See you next chapter~! :)