This Kingdom Bleeds Black
Chapter 3: The Dream Queen
They were the trinity –the unholy version of it.
The most infamous one was undoubtedly the King. He was the face every citizen would secretly love to spit on, but also the voice everyone had to obey. He was the strongest pillar, the main actor, the King –the title itself held the worth. Every victory the kingdom claimed was his and every trail of sins that followed would be his as well.
By the King's side, there was of course the Queen. Seen more as a useless symbol hidden behind the castle doors and gossips than anything, but to the trinity, she was always something more. The mediator, the most rational voice, the rumored tactician behind each battle strategy. She wedged no sword nor spear, but every blood that was shed was hers too.
And then…there was the General. Brute strength and muscles; more associated as pawns than anything –but two would beg to differ. He was the one who could have had everything. One who could even very much be the king himself. But he was always one who took the steps back when the others were unwilling to. He was their latch, their foundation, their sword, their shield –even if at the end of the day he were to be lowered into a mere pawn, he was an indispensable one.
They were the notorious. The three most hated beings in the country also happened to be the three most important pillars that held the whole country together. Without them, the demon land would never see the peak of glory.
"After we manage to claim Shiratorizawa, what do you want?" the King had asked the two one night. "It is irrefutable that I cannot claim it without both of you. So once we conquer it, what rewards would you two like?"
"It's still too far," the Queen reminded. "Do not dream too high, Oikawa."
"Kiyoko, it's not that far! Why do you always love to crush my hope? And it's just a harmless question! For so long that you don't request for a divorce, dear wife. That, I cannot grant."
"Then I'll have no other wish to be granted," she deadpanned –more to enjoy the sound of the King's wail than anything.
"Cruel! Oh, what a cruel wife I have! Kuroo! I've decided not to hear any of this cruel woman's wish! So her portion of wish is yours. You got two, now."
The General laugh –a big gruff so manner less, but one that charged through a platoon of enemies never needed any manner. "I got two, then? Cool. I know you would want to have Ushijima's head, but his sword… can you give it to me?"
"Granted," Oikawa waved it easily. "And the other one? Because Kiyoko decides to waive her right?"
Kuroo glanced at Kiyoko. The latter only shrugged –never too interested in the conversation from the very beginning – but as her long time friend, he knew how to speak on her behalf as well.
"Then, because this is Shimizu's wish too," Kuroo smirked at the King. "Even after you claim Shiratorizawa and beat Ushijima, just allow us to stay by your side always, my King."
Oikawa blinked, before he burst into a chuckle.
"Hey, for two supposedly most evil creatures in this kingdom, you two are breaking the stereotypes way too much."
The King had been calm.
So calm, and probably a part of Shimizu would have been rather proud of how mature the childish King had become. She would have appreciated it, had it not been for the grave reminder of what was lost in return.
The funeral of the General had been held humbly. For someone so great, so detrimental to the expansion of the Demon King's territory, the funeral was almost too simple. The people were left to mourn by themselves (but who were there to mourn? To the oppressed citizens, the death of the General responsible for many atrocities was just a karmic consequence). Oikawa held a military funeral attended only by him, the Queen, and few of the high-ranking captains.
"He told me once," Oikawa relayed to Shimizu as the two of them watched the coffin descended beneath the ground. "He never wanted to be embalmed. He told me a while ago that if he died, he wanted to be buried in the ground of the Demon King. So that he could be the soil that would support the kingdom."
"It suits him," Shimizu whispered almost inaudibly. One would think a man as gallant as Kuroo would want everything to be grant –even to his funeral, but no. Shimizu knew that Kuroo had always been the most selfless of them all –as much as the quality did not suit a Demon General like him. And even in his death, he would continue the role.
Before Shimizu knew Oikawa, she knew Kuroo first. Centuries ago, when she heard that he had become the Demon King's trusted aid, Shimizu had questioned whether he had the ambition to become the King himself. Of all people, probably aside from Kageyama and Ushijima, Kuroo had the highest chance to overthrow the King if he wanted to. But no. He never did that.
"I would have given my kingdom to him if he had asked," Oikawa confessed.
"To him, you are more important than the kingdom," Shimizu responded, and Oikawa turned to face her. "That's the extent of his belief to you."
Oikawa closed his eyes. For this moment, he did not want to be the King. For this moment, he only wanted to be someone worthy of Kuroo's belief on him.
For this moment, he only wanted to be a good friend.
It all mattered very little to Shimizu after that.
Three days after Kuroo's funeral, the King finally took his place back at his throne and made his order.
"Summon him."
The boy with bright orange hair was shackled when Maki and his guards brought him in. Oikawa did not show any expression, and neither did Hinata. Shimizu also could not find the urge to do anything herself. She knew what the King would order. And while she usually was there to restrain the King's order, at this moment, she could not care any less. She did not know what to feel. The scars Kuroo left were still burning her skin.
It was almost methodical. No one was angry. No one fought. Shimizu did not care. Oikawa did not care. Even Hinata did not care. How calm they were all.
"To be honest, a part of me wants to torture you in the most painful way possible," Oikawa said from his throne to the boy forced to kneel down. "But Kiddo," he chuckled weakly. "It's just … so tiring, isn't it?"
Hinata said not a word.
"Three years ago when you came into this castle," Oikawa began again. "Did you already have the intention to assassinate me back then?"
"…No," Hinata eventually admitted. There was no longer any secret he needed to keep. No other identity he needed to protect. Hinata knew that when his time was running out, few actually mattered. "I was just a decoy. Just someone tasked to learn your weakness. But I was never supposed to kill you."
"But?" Oikawa patiently asked.
"But you killed Kageyama," Hinata muttered, and for the first time since he was brought to the throne room, the fire in his eyes blazed again. "Y-you…you killed him."
"Ah," Oikawa noted. "I see. So I killed your friend."
Hinata threw his gaze away.
"But you also killed my friend," Oikawa said and the calmness started to crack. "Now, I know this is only an endless vicious cycle, but kiddo," he chuckled. "This burning, it doesn't die down, you know? This pain…did you feel this way too when Tobio-chan died?"
Hinata did not answer, but the fire on his eyes conveyed the message clear enough.
Shimizu closed her eyes. She did not want to see this. She was just so tired. Everyone felt this pain. A greater majority would argue that Oikawa and her deserved this all, if not more, but at this point, Shimizu just couldn't give any coherent thoughts.
"Any last word?" the King asked almost gently.
"When it's your turn," Hinata hissed. "When it's your turn to fall, you will fall hard, Demon King. You will fall so hard and you will reap what you sow."
A smile crossed Oikawa's face. "That's too cliché. Young kids like you should be more creative, you know?"
Shimizu wished she could care, but she really could not. Kuroo…Kuroo had stolen her time. With his death, he had taken away the little something in her, and she just… she really could not care as much as she wanted to. Did she want to torture Hinata as well? Did she want to stop Oikawa from committing even further crime? She did not know.
Apathy. This was her back to square one.
As it should be, she realized. Feelings are heavy.
And her time stopped. Her time stopped when Oikawa ran his electric current through his thorny shackles around Hinata's body. There was a scream –Shimizu did not care. There were multiple electrifications –Shimizu did not care. There was a torture against a body of a kid who no longer had a life –Shimizu did not care. There was a foul stench of flesh burnt for being electrocuted too many times already –Shimizu did not care. There was a hope that died, a soul that was perished, hearts that were broken – Shimizu did not care. She wouldn't care even if –
"Bring that other girl in," Oikawa mandated after God knew how many times he had electrocuted Hinata. The corpse was now nothing but a lump of burnt flesh.
The doors were pushed open, and a shriek of a young girl was all it took to snap Shimizu back into reality.
"Hinata!" Yachi screamed as she broke down to her knees and cried. "Hinata! No!" she screamed and cried hysterically. Even the heavy shackles around her wrists did not slow her down as she ran towards the lump that was her very own sun.
Life returned to Shimizu's eyes.
Oikawa let the girl sobbed by Hinata's corpse for a while until he asked almost too tenderly again, "I think it won't be a farfetched assumption to conclude that you are also his ally, little girl?"
Yachi did not even look at Oikawa's eyes; she did not even fear the possible outcome for ignoring the King. All that mattered to Yachi was this…this person, her sunshine, her everything was ripped off her. The hell with the Demon King.
"No objection?" Oikawa reconfirmed almost lazily –the bluish electricity ball was glistening on the tips of his fingers. "I reallydon't like to kill girls, you know. And I know you are never a threat. But," he chuckled. "I guess I've never been much of a virtuous man and –"
"Oikawa," Shimizu broke from her shell and slowly descended the throne to stand by her husband's side. Oikawa halted his fingers movements and turned around –his queen was now holding his wrist. Ah, dear queen. I told you not to play with the fire…
A crook of twisted smile grazed the King's face. "Yes, my Queen?"
"This girl has nothing to do with Kuroo's death," she reminded. "She is innocent."
The crack on the calmness spread. His Queen just liked to test his patience, eh? "And since when, Kiyoko, do I care about that?"
"It brings no merits to you," Shimizu reminded as she tried to be as logical as she could. Oikawa was far stronger than her, and her power was nothing to him. But if she could just persuade him…just maybe, maybe it was worth the try. "We lost Kuroo. Rationally speaking, we have lost such a valuable asset. We need to focus on the defense more than anything now. Without Kuroo –"
"Oh, fuck it, Kiyoko," Oikawa snapped, and even Shimizu was taken aback. Oikawa had been sadistic to her countless times before, but he had never used such vulgar word to her. "Don't you play proper with me now. Just say it! Say what we all know! You don't want me to kill a girl you want to fuck, right?"
Even Yachi halted her sobs. Shimizu maintained her gaze steady as she tried to talk some sense to Oikawa. "We'd better focus on a much more important thing."
Baffled, Oikawa gritted his teeth as he stared murderously at Shimizu. "Bullshit, dear wife," he snorted. "You think I'll allow you keep your own fuck toy? When I can't keep mine?! When mine is just a head I couldn't save, and you dare to love someone when mine…when mine is…" he gritted. "…when Iwa-chan must die and I must suffer, you think I'll allow you keep your bitch alive so you can be saved alone?!"
Taking a deep breath, Shimizu strengthened her grip around Oikawa's wrist. "Oikawa, it's not –"
The King laughed. The King laughed because he was such a sad, petty soul all along. How dare the Queen salvage herself? Oh, the injustice.
He would just show her who the manin charge was.
With a twist of smirk, he used his other hand to throw the electricity ball to Yachi.
The blonde-haired girl screamed as the currents shot through her body and the sight, the scream, the pain…
Shimizu couldn't bear it.
"My King!" Shimizu screamed, and she quickly dropped herself to the ground.
"Do queens need to bow to the kings as well?"
Desperate… she had never be this desperate. It surprised herself. It even surprised Oikawa to the extent that he stopped the electric current running through Yachi's body. The young mortal girl cried –the pain was unbelievable (did Hinata really feel this ten times more?), but she was alive. Left whimpering and pained on the floor –it took her only the next two seconds before Yachi lost her consciousness.
The mortal girl was not the King's worry at the time though. What took his attention more was this. The Queen. His Queen. Bowing to him. Kneeling in front of him. Low, so low on the ground. The haughty and the undisturbed queen even went to the extent of degrading herself like this…
"My King," Shimizu begged and she had never begged like that to Oikawa. Never bowed before Oikawa. Never kissed his boots. Never, never asked for something as much as this. "My King, please," she sobbed and the sight was so foreignto Oikawa's eyes. "My King, please, do not kill this girl."
Oikawa stared wide-eyed at his wife, now bowing flat on the floor and did not even dare to raise her head. His lips were parted open in confusion. This was not the Queen that he knew. And for this stranger now pleading with all her soul, he needed to know one thing.
"…Do you love her this much?"
You never even bowed to me before. Never begged to me before.
"My King, my King, please. This is my only request," Shimizu chanted. "Only this. I'm forever yours, but only this, do not kill this girl. I beg you."
She did not know how long she had bowed low on the ground. Or how long had Oikawa stared dumbfounded at her. But eventually, the King made his decision.
"Fine, my Queen," the King agreed. "I'll spare her, but that's only because you pled this much."
Shimizu slowly lifted her face from the ground. And looking up at Oikawa –she saw his eyes were brown again, brown and normal, yet…
…there was almost a sense of disbelief on his eyes; like he had been betrayed.
She gulped. An angry, red-eyed Oikawa always made her tremble in fear. But a disappointed, brown-eyed Oikawa made her feel like all her worth had been peeled off. Still, the King's mercy was more than what she deserved and to that, there could only be one response. "…Thank you," Shimizu whispered.
The corner of Oikawa's eyes twitched, and Shimizu knew that the line she crossed would bear herself a consequence. But that was for the later. She would receive the punishment she deserved later, for so long that Yachi could make it alive another day.
Oikawa did not spare her much of a glance afterwards. With only a strong jerk, he pulled his boots away from Shimizu's grasp. The swift of robe was waved in front of her eyes as he turned and walked out of the throne room.
She kept her distance away in the chambermaid's bedroom. Knowing very well she could never soothe anyone wounded, Shimizu requested another maid to take care of Yachi's burnt wounds while the Queen herself waited at a safe distance.
Neither said anything for a while and Shimizu thought it being that way was fine too. But then Yachi broke the silent agreement.
"…You shouldn't have done that," the girl was sitting on her bed as she stared at the wall. "Thank you, Shimizu-sama. But honestly, that was unnecessary."
Shimizu made sure that the other maid had finished putting the salve and bandages over Yachi's wound before she politely asked the third party to leave the room. Only after the door was closed that Shimizu spoke again.
"He could have killed you."
"He could have, couldn't he?" Yachi snorted, and the bitterness was so unfamiliar that it caught Shimizu off guard. "Oh, what couldn't the Demon King do? Conquering territories that aren't his? Murdering innocent people? Severing so many bonds? He could have done it all. Easily."
The beam of the sun was dimming, but it did not mean Shimizu would leave it that way. "Hitoka-chan…"
"I should have died as well," she sobbed. "I should have died when they all die."
With a gulp, Shimizu sat on her bed and promised the girl. "I would try my best to make sure he wouldn't do anything to –"
"It doesn't matter," Yachi interrupted with a smile so broken; Shimizu realized that several things would never stay the same again after. "Kageyama-kun, Hinata-kun, " she looked down to her bandaged hands. "I have no one else now."
Shimizu's hands were itched to take a hold of her smaller ones, but she knew her limit. She could not. But even when she could not hold her, she could at least assure her this.
"You're not alone," Shimizu softly reminded. "You still have m –"
"I don't want you, Shimizu-sama!" Yachi snapped and the nano-second flash of pain on Shimizu's eyes nearly made Yachi's tears rolled faster. But no. If there were tears that she had to shed, it was only for those who deserved it. Like Kageyama and Hinata. And the other Karasuno militas. People who had courageously risked their lives and had their lives truly taken as the price for trying to overthrow the tyrant. Those were the people who deserved her tears.
Someone who was as much as a killing doll did not deserve her tears.
"…I'm sorry," Shimizu whispered. "I know how painful it is for you. Kuroo…no, I don't mean to say it as an eye to an eye. But I, too, know how devastating it is to lose something."
"That still doesn't make us the same," Yachi pointed out and Shimizu wondered since when this little girl had morphed herself into such a cynical being. Shimizu knew she would care for her still, no matter how much she changed, but she just…felt what a shame it would be for the sun not to shine again in this dark palace. "We're too different. I thought I could understand you, Shimizu-sama. But I really don't," she paused. "And I'm not sure if I want to anyway."
"I wouldn't ask for such privilege," Shimizu ascertained. "I know what I've done deserve no mercy. But even this unworthy me... let me protect you," her hand made hesitant move to crawl towards Yachi's bandaged hands.
But Yachi pulled her hands away. Throwing her gaze equally afar, she made the decision.
"At one point, I am always indebted to you, Shimizu-sama. But I… I can't return your feelings."
Shimizu nodded. "I understand. And I don't ask for it. You don't have to give me anything in return. Just allow me to –"
"No, you don't get it," Yachi murmured. "Even this…no matter how unconditional it is, I…when I look at you, all I see is the King's shadow, and I…" she gritted her teeth. "I can't even look at you anymore. You… carried too much of him in you."
Shimizu was silenced.
Yachi shut her eyes and buried her face onto her palms. The action would wet her bandage and Shimizu was tempted to pry her hands away, but Yachi had warned her against it.
"All I want," Yachi began to sob. "All I want is to have Hinata-kun back. And Kageyama-kun. And Daichi-san. And Yamaguchi, and the others… And if you can't give them back, please, Shimizu-sama, I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want to hear your voice anymore. I don't want you near me anymore. I-I …"
The tears were drenching her bandages already, and she did not know how long she had cried, how long she had suffered, but by the time she lifted her face again, there was no one else in her room.
Yachi was thankful that Shimizu did not even say a word when she left. Her voice would only remind her of the Demon King and she had rather died than to hear such cruel voice again.
They were the runaways.
The almighty; they had the kingdom under their rule; people who would bow when they passed by; but even the almighties could never escape the ghost of the past.
He did not talk to him lately. He walked into his Collection Hall and stopped in front of a certain display box. Gazing at the bodiless head whose eyes were now forever closed, Oikawa did not know from where he should start. There were many things that he had not told Iwa-chan lately. But hey, if the afterlife did exist, maybe Kuroo would say everything on his behalf.
Besides, how could the words to a dead head matter? Would his voice reach him? Would his story make Iwa-chan smile? Oikawa was the very reason Iwa could no longer smile in the first place.
There had been many things he had asked to Iwa-chan's head; many things he had told him. But there was one thing that, no matter how many years passed, he never dared to ask.
Oikawa did not know what urged him to ask the silent question now after all these years.
"Why didn't you kill me back then, Iwa-chan?" he asked as his finger traced the glass surface –the closest he would allow himself to him. "Why did you unsheathe your sword at the last second? Why did you let me kill you?"
The head never spoke; the head never answered.
"Was it because you trusted me?" Oikawa asked again. "Did you believe in me so much? Did you believe I would not have beheaded you?"
Silence. Only the silence and the ghosts of all the heads he beheaded that judged the Demon King.
He chuckled to himself. Tearing his eyes off Iwa-chan's eyes momentarily, Oikawa glanced at the empty glass box. Ushijima's head was projected to fill the space, but even if he managed to capture Ushijima and place his head there… what would it be then?
Just an additional head to judge and purge him into this damnation.
"What…" Oikawa wondered. "Is this…it?"
if I can't have you, then will any of these be for naught?
Ever since the death of the General, the King did not show his face in the public again. People silently sighed in relief. The King was never someone whose presence would be missed. Everyone would have revolted against him if they could, but the only fine line was that they never could.
It was lonely on top.
Even the Queen had not seen much of the King ever since that day he executed Hinata Shoyo and nearly, Hitoka Yachi. He had locked himself mainly in the Collection Hall, shutting himself and not interacting with anyone other than Iwa-chan, and occasionally the other heads as well. Rumors said that the King had gone crazy. The Queen begged to differ; her husband had been crazy all along.
"There's no better time to escape than now, Shimizu-san," Nishinoya still persisted even after all these years. "The King barely has any interest in anything anymore. This is the right time. If you escape now, he won't notice."
"He won't even care," Tanaka added.
"He never cares," Shimizu corrected. People thought that the King changed. Shimizu thought that there was not much that was different. It had always been like this –others just did not realize it before.
"Then why?" Nishinoya demanded. "Why are you still here?"
She had wondered about it too. So when Noya asked her the question, she was not too flabbergasted.
"Half of it was Kuroo. Another part is because it's my duty. I am to serve him until he reaches his goal."
"Rumors said that even Ushijima had relinquished everything and tried to live as normal people now. There's no longer any goal. There's nothing left to…" Noya paused when Shimizu still gazed at the starless sky. Her sky never had any sun. With a deep sigh, Noya spoke again, "Shimizu-san, we just want you to be happy."
Noya and Tanaka's wish for her to be happy…that was such an expensive dream she could never afford. After all she did, after all sins that were too heavy, Shimizu acknowledged it would be so ungrateful of her to wish for something so luxurious like that.
"Shimizu-san," Tanaka looked straight at her. "Don't bear that person's sins."
Then, she realized it. Tanaka's statement just confirmed the gaps that she did not know how to fill. Looking at her two loyal confidants, Shimizu smiled warmly at them.
A Queen was the King's shadow; the King's holder. Everything that the King did, the Queen would follow. His victory was hers. His sins were hers as well. It was not a duty; it was a purpose, it was her fate.
And for someone like her, who never had a purpose to her existence, that was the only thing she deserved.
"Thank you for being loyal to me all these times, Noya, Tanaka," she softly spoke. "But from now on, please forget about me and live your lives freely."
Shimizu never dared to enter the Collection Room without his invitation before. But she guessed that when one had so much surrendered everything and had nothing else to wish for, nothing was too scary anymore. She did not fear his wrath, she did not fear him electrocuting her like what he did to Hinata, she did not fear him, no longer. When the King had too many people who feared and hated him, the Queen's lack of fear on him could at the very least balance everything.
"It's been a while," she greeted and he turned his attention away from Iwa-chan's head to look at the new presence in the Collection Room.
There was more of a curiosity than anger, and Oikawa tilted his head in bedazzlement. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Despite the words, his tone was civil.
"Does a queen need a reason to see the king now?" she asked as she invited herself further.
He narrowed his eyes; skeptical, careful. "I thought you'd be all in the honeymoon period with your lady lover."
"Well," Shimizu remarked as she bridged the distance more. "Apparently you're not the only one who couldn't have your lover, my King."
Oikawa blinked, before his glance softened into a knowing one. Almost playfully, he nudged, "So now you're seeking a replacement in me?"
"No," Shimizu confirmed. "None of us can replace what the other considers important. Just as I can never replace Iwaizumi-san."
"Ah," he nodded. "That's true." Oikawa kept his gaze locked at Iwa-chan's head but the curiosity lingering in his mind pushed him to seek more elaboration. "So why are you here? Why haven't you escaped? I heard that some troops have even run away. To be honest, I won't be surprised if the enemy already sneaks into the castle."
"And your point?"
He frowned at her question. "There's no point in staying here with me."
Shimizu raised her chin slightly –the gesture was mirroring her arched eyebrow. "That kind of helplessness doesn't suit you, my King."
He chuckled before he broke into another smile. Almost earnest. Chestnut brown eyes that were almost foreign, but familiar (you will be missed). "…Kuroo is dead, Kiyoko," he reminded her. "I've lost my General. My troops are scattered. It's just a matter of time before someone is sent to assassinate me and it will be it."
The steps she took were slow, but eventually, she stood in front of him. Looking up, Shimizu softly demanded, "And you'd allow it? Without realizing Kuroo's dream first, you'd allow yourself die that easy?"
His brown eyes widened slightly. The words that were rolled out of his lips were a slow and painful slur. "…Kuroo's dream?"
"For you to stand tall once you claim it all," she stated. "When this kingdom, your kingdom, truly becomes the strongest of all."
"And he wanted to be there by my side," he remembered the next. "Which is no longer possible."
"But buried in the ground, he would witness it still," Shimizu noted. "This land, this land that now he is part of… can only be a land worthy of all grandness."
A tug on the edge of his lips. "Of victory."
"And glory," Shimizu sealed it.
Oikawa smiled. "And through it all, you'll stay by my side?"
Shimizu stared at Oikawa for a moment, before she, for the first time and not by any force, not by any fear, not by any desperate wish to beg for something… for the first time and by her own consciousness and voluntary wish, bent down and bowed before him.
"Forever at your service, my King. Until you realize all of your… and Kuroo's dreams."
The heads had been the witnesses all along, but that time, they had each other to witness it too.
It was a place of the macabre; where the heads were battle scars –some he was proud of, some he eternally damned himself for. The place was to reminisce the bloody path the King took and the Queen shared. If this demon world was hell, then this was the pit of it –inferno.
And only the unholiest of all the unholy fitted to be there.
The moon in the demon land was always silver and at certain night, the glow would illuminate even that lowest pit of hell. He stood at a respectable distance –Iwa-chan's display glass was between them, and over Iwa-chan's head, he could see her bathed in the moonlight. The place the moon touched glistened the most when her pale hand had shed the attire.
It was slow. Deliberate fingers that peeled off her tight leather suit were her own. He watched her undress herself. She locked her gaze with him. It was almost secure, almost safe, like she had nothing else to fear. Rolling the last article of clothing off her skin, Shimizu stepped out of the pile but stopped there.
He took the steps closer. Her body was tainted by no scar –the only scars that marred her were always beneath the skin. She was broken and vacant inside, but her shell was always…
"So beautiful," Oikawa whispered as he laid his palm over her cheek. He had breathed the word to her so many times already, and he had meant each and every one of it. But this time, he just wanted to surrender himself to her complete beauty and be perished by it. "So beautiful, my Queen."
She smirked in return. "So as to deserve you, my King."
The sweet words, the sweet nothing and the sweet everything. Honey-drip touches that would soothe and sting at the same time. It was always in all this contradiction that they understood each other the most. Next to them was Iwa-chan's head. But then again, to them, it could only be romantic when it was disturbing. Irony was always both of their sweetest darling.
His touch did not burn as much as usual, and neither was his lips on hers. She could only wish that the touches she laid as she shed his clothing did not burn him either. She might have had the urge to hurt him a lot of times, but this time was not one of those.
This time, this time she only wanted to be basked by him, and nothing more.
His robe fell with a soft sound. Unlike her, he had many clothing and jewels attached. She helped him take them all off. But neither rushed it. In the drops of clothes and the clanking of the falling emblems, medallions, crests, the kisses were beheld. The lips refused to let go once they tasted the petals, and with more and more clothing discarded, the colder he felt and the more he needed to seek for the warmth.
Her chest heaved up when the last kiss rendered her breathless. He pulled himself away from her lips, but he let his forehead pressed against her still. Both her palms were flattened on his broad shoulder, now bare, and now she just needed to touch him more.
So she trailed her hands down across his chest, hard and alive, nearly mortal. She stopped at the place where something beat.
"Would you like to kill me?" Oikawa asked when he sensed her palm had not moved from his chest.
Shimizu looked up at him curiously. "Would you allow me to?"
He smiled down at her and his finger traced the soft line of her jaw and tilted her chin up. Her eyes without the glasses were always the shade of dusty granite –the calm before the storm. It was always magnetic. It always pulled him deep.
"Only when you promise to do the prerequisite," he told her before he bent his shoulders down so that he could taste the sweetness of her lips again. "Could you?"
Icy heart was melted not by the strong blaze of storm, but always by the steadiest and calmest waves. Something in her was wretched. And when it was wretched, she felt it surged, it trailed from the depth of her hollow ribcage, up to fill her lungs until she found it hard to breathe, then it crawled through her throat until it broke against her lips when he allowed the smallest gap between them.
"I wish I could," she squeaked, and she meant it. "I wish I could, Tooru."
He watched her writhe, and what a sight it was. The strongest woman he had ever encountered in his life, now in his grasp, in his embrace, so sinful yet so rewarding. A bitter smile to promise the wish was pulled.
"If only I am not already in love with Iwa-chan, I would love you."
"If only I am not already in love with Hitoka-chan, I, to you, would too."
Oikawa wiped the tears Shimizu did not even know she had shed. "Then, we are both the loveless."
"Be it."
He nodded and agreed. "Be it."
They said nothing afterward, but their touches meant everything. He held her back securely as he leaned forward to kiss her throat and down the butterfly kisses were splattered all over her chest. His lips clasped her left breast and she cried when she felt his tongue rolled and lapped around her nipple. Scorching. It was scorching and she gave up. Her legs gave up and she buckled. He held her strong still but he carefully descended her down.
Down on the tile, on the cold marble floor where the biting cold was a contrasting feel to the scorching heat that was Oikawa Tooru.
Could you also be my sun?
(No dearest. That one can't do.)
She arched herself and he met it with the wave of bare and sweaty skin of his own. Pressing her body hard and full against his front, he accepted it all. Shimizu's hands moved from his chest down to the body part she had memorized all too well. Warm hands were spread around the shaft. She did not pump him fast as she usually did, but even her softest touch lingered to spread life to his nether region.
His knees were by either side of her body, and they trembled when she had him in her grip. He nearly fell to her, but while he would succumb to her, he did not want to fall. Not now. Not when his ribcage was screaming because suddenly all rushed in, and he was all but a helpless being that needed no further cliff to fall from.
Her eyes were closed as she continued to sob, and she felt the droplets on her cheek. Wet and warm, humane.
The King was crying too.
Cry with me, the words were not spoken from her lips, but he felt them reverberate throughout the deepest corner of his mind.
I will, he promised. But only if you will fall down together with me.
Then, I will, too.
Her inside was warm and tight as he pushed through her and it filled him with everything that he thought he would ever need. She cried again and he howled. Primal and bare –just the simplest move and yet the most complicated feeling that were threatening to break both of them into millions of shards.
And broke they did.
Her poison flowed but it would not kill him. Always too strong to be killed, but forever too weak to be hold. He collapsed onto her and she could feel the whisk of his brown hair caressed her cheek. His breathing was heavy when he pulled out of her before he thrust back in. Rhythmic, but not systematic. This night was different. This night was unlike the others. This night he fell and broke and wept and cursed. And she all but bear it; his fall, his shards, his cries and his fate.
This night, and only for this night, she would forever carve this into her memory.
Next time? There would be no next time. Not like this one. Not this closest thing to a love they could have (but never could). Because she knew, and he knew too, that after this, and outside these doors, they would put back the cloaks of the King and the Queen and everything would return back to how it was and how it should be: the manipulator and his devil's advocate, the thorn and the poison, the deadliest, cruelest demonic pair that would shed more blood and committed more sin.
And so, for this moment that would never to be repeated again, both just wanted to stay for the longest, longest time.
After all, irony might have been their best friend, but eternity? Not so much.
The hunt for Ushijima started after that.
With Kuroo's absence, Oikawa did not assign anyone else to be the General, but now Shimizu ran through the forest with him too. She sneaked into the minds of men; the King used his Queen's ability to the fullest. And she trailed information after information after each cum splattered from the different men. Like a chain, like a slut. And like it had been with the High Priest of Karasuno years and years prior, the King would only laugh and masturbated himself when he saw each of the dozens men who jerked in their death as she absorbed the information.
What a lovely, sick and twisted couple. What a relationship goal.
"Last sighting of Ushijima in the Miyagi riverbed," she reported to the King –who all but smiled at the sight of his wife dirtied by men in this town cheap motel. From a Queen to the village's bitch, what a downgrade. "He burned half his face now. Wears a mask of an eagle, they said."
"Alright," Oikawa said as he stood up from the chair. "Then to the riverbed we go?"
"I'd say we better focus on the old moon temple instead. We'd lost him even if we chase to the riverbed now. If we connect the information from this man with the one from the blacksmith store –"
"Which one, dear? You fuck too many men already."
She ignored him. "Timing-wise, it is corroborated that Ushijima will meet Tsukishima in the moon temple in the next three nights."
"Alright," the King repeated. "I'll trust whatever your judgment will be. But that means there's still time so…" he grabbed her by the wrist and roughly pinned her to the motel's wooden wall. Licking the length of her neck, he whispered, "The sight of my wife fucking another men, it always fucking turns me on."
It was a trail of chase and hunt and run and hide. Even with the chains of information, capturing one who was once the grand king of his very own vast Shiratorizawa land was no easy feat. Shimizu's information had always been correct, but they were not always timely.
So it was only seven months after the General's death that they finally captured the runaway king.
Shimizu stood by the Demon King's side. They towered against the man made to kneel before the now strongest ruler of the whole empire. It was daylight on the green prairies that Ushijima was spotted and captured. Even when spotted and found, it had been a hard battle to finally tackle him down. Oikawa stood tall, but not without broken ribs, blood running off his nose, limp left leg, and burn marks across his back. But all these were nothing to him in comparison to the centuries-old satisfaction of finally defeating Ushijima.
And he nearly could not believe it himself.
"At last," he whispered, slow at first, but then it thundered into maniacal laughter. "At last!"
Shimizu rolled her eyes beside him. "Be quiet."
The King was forever grateful to his queen, but this time, all his attention was reserved to Ushijima –who, curse him –even when shackled, bruised and forced to kneel, still looked up at him with that calmness on his eyes.
It irked Oikawa, and it amused Shimizu.
"It's over for you, Ushijima. I win," Oikawa re-declared, just to make sure that the fact gnawed deep into his skin.
"Ah," Ushijima's heavy voice resonated. "I know."
"No begging? No wishing me to spare your life, hmm?" Oikawa asked and he held the wince in his ribs when he bent down to touch the tip of Ushijima's chin with his sword. "I can behead you right here and right now."
"You can," Ushijima acknowledged. "But you won't."
"Why so?"
"You are one histrionic King who would want to show off your victory to people. You won't kill me here. You will have me publicly executed so that everyone will know."
"Hmm," Oikawa smirked. "For how well you know me, I would have thought we could be best friends."
Ushijima did not say a word and never tore his gaze away from Oikawa.
The smile on Oikawa's face remained, and it was maintained even when his knee collided with Ushijima's face again. Behind Ushijima, the remaining loyal guards of Shiratorizawa howled and cursed at the Demon King. Small stuffs. Those could be killed right here and right now.
Ushijima spat the broken molar out of his mouth, but even with nose bent and eyes bruised in blue, he continued to stare at Oikawa.
"You fucking lost," Oikawa hissed.
"I know."
"Then why the hell are you still staring at me like you are all that?! When you're nothing but this useless piece of meat that I can butcher any second?!"
He did not say a word and Oikawa scoffed. He did not like it. It was a clear victory, but why Ushijima was making it hard for him to feel like this was a total victory? The stern and deep eyes that were looking back at him…Oikawa could not wait to have his head chopped off. Then, it could be placed on the reserved altar and he could stare mockingly at the head all day.
Sighing deeply so as to calm the thundering agitation inside his mind, Oikawa asked, "I wonder what you are thinking right now. Do you still believe that a miracle would occur, that something, someone would save you? Do you really think and believe that?"
Ushijima did not say a word.
Oikawa's eyes twitched. He was tempted, oh how he was tempted to know. He could, of course, ask Shimizu to do the usual, but he refrained himself to order the Queen to do so on two reasons. First, Ushijima was to be the only man he would never allow to touch his wife. And second, he could only allow Ushijima to die on his hand, and not even in his dear wife's.
"Back to the castle," he mandated as he swiftly turned around and walked to his own horse. "Chain him thrice just to make sure. Drag him by feet and we're going fast. We're not stopping," he said as he climbed his white horse and snickered to himself. "I really cannot wait to unwrap my present there."
Ushijima was not the only present Oikawa had in his castle, for someone planned a little surprise for him too.
His horse had just reached the gates, and there was quite a lengthy distance between his main gates and his castle, but he saw it –the little present someone left for him even from afar.
Smokes were high in the sky and it contrasted the red flames that were swallowing the entire south tower.
His heart skipped a beat and he widened his eyes, because that fire, and the south tower…there, in that place there was…
"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa screamed on top of his lungs as he kicked his horse and dashed through. His citizens, his guards, the moats, he passed them all. Fast. Faster. Fear like he had never felt before stormed through his entire limbs and it threatened to killhim. But he could not die. Not now, not until he saved Iwa-chan –most importantly now because he had failed to save him in the past, and, and…
The Demon King believed in no God. But if he was to pray, this was the only time he would.
"Oikawa!" Shimizu shouted. She quickly gave the order to Maki, "Secure Ushijima and assign the others to put down the fire. Now!" And then after, she paced her horse to also follow Oikawa's trails.
There was no one living in the south tower, but there were the castle staffs and some citizens around it. None of them tried to put down the fire, and the tower's walls were crumbling. Shimizu even heard some of them cheered when their King as much as lowered himself into a piece of desperation. The other loyal guards still in their control only began to move and tried to put the fire down when Oikawa snapped at them to do so. Lack of obedience and punishment for the staffs could wait, for now, what was important, the only thing important was…
"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa screamed again as he stopped his horse and jumped off it. Shimizu arrived seconds later and she also hopped off. The debris, smokes and the falling bricks were clouding her sight, but even then, she could still see Oikawa running with all his might to the inside of the tower.
"Oikawa, it's dangerous!" Shimizu warned. She knew the fire would not kill the King, but still, it could very much harm him. She was about to follow him into the tower again, but one sight caught her attention and she halted her steps immediately.
There, standing small and proud on the outside of the tower. Dying torch and empty tank of gasoline in each of her small hands. Even the ashes and dusts that covered her blonde hair could not hide her prettiness. And she was always the prettiest when she smiled bright as the sun.
And smiling as bright as the sun, Yachi did.
Shimizu's jaw trembled when her mind tried to connect the dots. "H-Hitoka-chan? W-was it you who did this?"
Yachi averted her sight away from the burning tower. Surrounded by the big clouds of smokes, she was so small, but at the moment, she was the undefeated. Widening her eyes in mirth when her chocolate eyes met her gray ones, Yachi only smiled brighter.
"Shimizu-sama!" she exclaimed almost too happily. "Do you think the King will like my present?" she giggled almost crazily. "Bonfire. To celebrate for the King's victory."
It took nearly three hours to fully put the fire down. But by that time, the tower had been reduced to heaps of irreparable ruins.
Oikawa failed.
All of his heads collections were burned into ashes –just as they should have been decades or centuries ago. Dead souls that were trapped behind those glass boxes were finally left to roam free. Oikawa could not salvage a single of his collection. Each glass box was broken; each head was burnt for too long –not even a single strand of hair remained.
While it took three hours to wash away the fire, it took a midnight for Oikawa to finally accept that there was nothing left to save. The King had, with his own bare hands, dug the ruins; his hands were scraped and red and the skins were chapped all over in the process. He only stopped digging once his finger found the silver flameproof ring that was once pierced into Iwa-chan's left eyebrow. Only then, the King stopped. Only then, the King accepted. Only then, the King finally lifted his knees up from the ruins, and silently, solely, dragged his feet back to his own room in the main castle.
Shimizu gave him three quiet days to mourn. On the night of the third day, she pushed herself off her own bed and walked towards his room. There were dead bodies loitering around the castle on the pathway to his bedroom. Anyone so unlucky to cross path with the King –friend or foe, even the most loyal castle staff who had served the lineage from Oikawa's grandfather – was to die, pierced by the thorn he stabbed to those who met his blazing red eyes.
And walking to the King's chamber in this situation was a deliberate call for a suicide. But when the Queen knew her life had always been in his hand, she truly had nothing else to lose.
One corpse, two corpses, five, twelve, eighteen –there were a total of 31 corpses on the pathway leading to Oikawa's chamber. Shimizu lifted her heels and walked over one, two, five, twelve, eighteen, 31 dead bodies before she knocked on the door.
Dozens of thorny spikes shot through the door –and had she not been the succubus of grace and stealth, she would have died in the first two seconds. But she was not any mortal, nor was she any woman. She was the last lineage of the succubus clan and the very Queen of this kingdom.
And foremost, she was the Demon King's wife.
The doors were broken when the spikes crashed through the woods. It displayed the interior of Oikawa's bedroom blatantly in front of her eyes. The bed was facing the door straight and there, sitting on the huge bed, was the most fearsome creature to ever breathe in this empire.
His hands were bloody and his eyes were, unsurprisingly, the deepest shade of red.
Oikawa did not even lift his head, but Shimizu knew he had realized her presence. His welcome gift came in the form of another series of thorny spikes. Like earlier, she evaded each of them, though some managed to graze her skin, and now scratches carrying red blood marred her face and skin.
He did not shoot her thorny spikes any longer, but she stopped herself three meters away from his bed.
"Oika –"
This time, he sent her a blast of wind that immediately slammed her hard against the wall. Shimizu grunted when she felt a chunk of wood pierced her shoulder. Groaning, she pulled the piece of wood off her back and threw it away. The blood gushed out of the wound but she stood firm again.
"My King –"
"What do you want?" he growled.
Shimizu paused. She did not even know what she wanted. When she came with the resolve to come to Oikawa, she really did not think through the words that she had to say.
And what could be said in such situation anyway? I'm sorry for your lost? It's better for him to be freed? Let him rest peacefully? Iwa-chan will still live in your memory? What? What was there to say to a man who had gained everything but lost the only thing that mattered to him?
She had given him three days, but he might need a much longer time alone to mourn. Shimizu knew that this was not the right time, but in this situation, there would neverbe the right time. Oikawa would need days, weeks, years to accept this. By that frame, with no time being right, it would matter less if she came at this wrong time anyway.
"I'll always be by your side," she confirmed her promise again and again.
"I don't need you," he seethed. "All I need is –"
"Iwa-chan," Shimizu continued. "I know. But you can't have him, Oikawa."
In an inhuman zap of moment, Oikawa dashed from his bed to where Shimizu was standing and he gripped her neck tight. He choked her seriously, and Shimizu closed her eyes. Death, my King? If this death of mine could satiate your thirst, then be it.
He released his grip around her neck and her high heels were placed firm on the floor again.
Shimizu knew that there was nothing she could do to save him at this current condition. So she just spoke of business, of matters that were probably the last thing Oikawa wanted to bother. But she owed him the duty to be his eyes and ears, and she would only report what she had to report.
"Ushijima has been secured in the dungeon. Maki has not done anything and he's waiting for your instruction."
"…"
"Lev captured Tsukishima just a short while ago. He's on the way to bring him here."
"…"
"If there is any further instruction –"
"Summon her."
Shimizu's pupil dilated. Her reply came slurred and hesitant. "…What?"
Oikawa stared at Shimizu with his crimson eyes. There was no smile or even the usual sadistic glint when he repeated his sole instruction to her. "Summon her. Summon your little chambermaid here."
"…What for?"
Oikawa shrugged nearly all too casual. Shimizu could see the almost hidden sparkle of a silver ring hung around his neck with a simple metal chain. "That girl was the one who set the fire, wasn't she?"
"I don't know how you get the idea," Shimizu lied through her teeth. "It was an accident, Oikawa. A very unfortunate one, but –"
He throttled. "And you, my Queen, you think you can fool me? You think I don't know? Summon her."
When Shimizu did not say a thing nor move an inch, Oikawa only shook his head and made his point.
"Fine. I'll go get her myself," he said as he walked past her, and for the first time in three days, finally got out of his room.
Shimizu needed two seconds before her awareness returned. In a swift moment that was now neither graceful nor stealthy, she ran after Oikawa as the latter made his way towards Hitoka Yachi's room.
"O-Oikawa, no. There is a mistake. Y-you're mistaken! She did not do anything!" Shimizu persisted. She held onto Oikawa's robe –he whisked it away. She clutched his arm –he brushed her off. She fell to her knees and bowed and begged because it had brought her mercy before –he was not deterred this time.
Yachi was in her room, standing by the window when Oikawa blasted through the door. There was no surprise in her eyes when the Demon King made his appearance there. It was almost as if she had expected it, as if she had waitedfor it.
"O-Oikawa, please," Shimizu still tried, and it was for naught. Both Oikawa and Yachi ignored the witch. In the silence of the room where Yachi waited, she only broke into a grin.
"Did you enjoy my surprise, Grand King?" she asked almost too sweetly.
The King, with eyes blazing red and smile so wide, only told the maid, "Consider yourself extremely special, human girl. That was the most unexpected surprise I have ever received in my entire life."
"I'm glad if it suits your taste!" Yachi beamed.
Oikawa nodded.
Shimizu trembled so hard; it was hard to lift her knees from the floor. Clutching his robe and squeezing her eyes shut so tightly, the plea was made through gritted teeth. "My King. Please. Don't kill this girl. Don't –"
"Oh no, my Dear," Oikawa interrupted as he gently touched Shimizu's chin and gently pulled her to her feet again. "I won't kill her. Don't worry."
Shimizu's heart nearly burst into shards of gratefulness. "T-thank y –"
"Because you will do it for me," he said with a grin so wide –ear to ear, even his eyes were the shape of two crescents. Cute, pleasant, cheerful…
…diabolic.
All strength deserted Shimizu's body. She would have fallen back to her knees again, had it not been for Oikawa holding her arms and pulling her close to his embrace. Shimizu's shoulders shook so fervently and she only stopped shaking when Oikawa tucked the strands of her black hair and whispered to her ears.
"If I can't have my lover, you think you can have yours?"
"My King," Shimizu rasped. "Please. Not this…"
He was cruel. He was merciless. Only the cruel and the merciless could call himself the Grand Demon King.
"You've vowed to give everything to me, haven't you, my Queen?" he reminded as his fingers caressed her brows and wiped the tears that were falling free from her frightened eyes. "Ah," he realized. "I have always wondered what did it take to make horror cross your eyes. Apparently it is this," he smiled. He leaned down to kiss her trembling lips and murmured against them. "Should have done it sooner. The sight of you terrorized…it really is beautiful."
"Oikawa…please," Shimizu sobbed.
"Nope!" Oikawa cheerfully denied her plea. "Kill her with your own hands."
"Kill me!" Shimizu screamed. "Kill me instead!"
He shook his head. "Your soul. Your body. Your purpose. Your loyalty. Your every single goddamn thing, they're mine, Kiyoko-chan," he cursed against her. "You will do everything that I order you to. You want to kill yourself? Fine, but afterwards, I'll make sure to feed this girl to the lions and let not a single remain of her body left," he then raised his chin. "Just like Iwa-chan."
"Oikawa, I beg you–"
"Shimizu-sama," Yachi called and Shimizu stopped her sobs. Smiling brightly at the Queen, the little sun only tilted her head to the side and earnestly confirmed, "It's alright. It is my greatest honor to die in your hands."
"Hitoka-chan!" Shimizu screamed at the morbid idea.
A single tear fell from Yachi's eyes as she begged to Shimizu. "Please. It's lonely. I want to meet Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun too."
Shimizu turned her face away. Why? Why must it be this way? Why must this happen? Why must –
It's karma, the voice inside her whispered. You reap what you sow, Shimizu. You think there is ever a happy ending for you? You think you can redeem yourself without experiencing at least this?
"Shimizu-sama…" Yachi called again. "Please? I have always owed you a lot of things, but if I may be selfish and request you one last thing…it would be this."
Shimizu pursed her lips tight. She did not, could not, say anything in the situation.
"Shimizu-sama."
"Kiyoko-chan," Oikawa also persuaded kindly. "Kiyoko-chan, let's give everyone what they want, alright?"
What everyone wanted? But what about what she wanted? What about the sun she wanted to hold, what about the mercy she thought she deserved?
How dare you, Shimizu.
(Never yours. Mercy was never yours)
Taking a deep breath, Shimizu wiped the tears from her face. She lightly tapped Oikawa's hand that was rested on her shoulder and he took the cue and let go of her. Shimizu walked closer towards Yachi –who only smiled so bright in return. Blinding, it was so blinding.
And Shimizu did what she did best.
Giving her lover her most beautiful death.
"I promise it won't hurt," she whispered brokenly before she closed the distance and kissed Yachi's lips.
Yachi closed her eyes. Oikawa stood in silence as he watched the entire scene.
Shimizu poured it all (her heart –did she have one?, her love, her passion, her life).
When Yachi died, a part of her died too.
The girl was almost too pretty in her death. When life deserted her body, she looked so peaceful, angelic –she almost looked like she was just sleeping. Or maybe that was the little consolation Shimizu still dared to give herself.
Oikawa even lifted Yachi's body from the floor and tucked her in the bed. Shimizu covered her body with the blanket and folded Yachi's hands to clasp nicely on top of her chest. She looked down at her fondly and laid a brief kiss on her forehead before she tidied her bangs and slowly straightened her posture up.
Almost like a father and a mother when they were gazing at their own baby girl, Oikawa hugged Shimizu from behind gently and buried his face on the crook of her neck.
"Please don't hate me for this," he said, this time truly honest and truly apologetic.
Her palms were placed on top of the hands that were hugging her waist from behind. Shimizu exhaled a deep breath and asked him the same question she had asked years before when he made her kill the High Priest of Karasuno.
"Would it even matter to you if I do?"
Back then, he could not answer. But this time, he could.
"Yes," Oikawa hissed earnestly. "Yes, it would matter. I don't want you to hate me."
She allowed the last drop of tear to fall from her eyes before she leaned against his sturdy chest and arms that were more destructive than protective.
"Good. Because I hate you now, Tooru."
He nuzzled her neck and breathed in. "I know," he whispered, and for once after Iwa-chan's head been burnt, his eyes returned back to his normal chestnut brown color. "…I know."
They would never have a grand funeral ceremony for one insignificant maid.
But Oikawa dug the earth and throughout the burial of Hitoka Yachi, he had never once left his wife's side.
The King and the Queen made their public appearance again in front of the citizens on the day Ushijima and Tsukishima were to be executed. It was in front of the capital's atrium. There was a grand stage built with the adjacent makeshift throne placed not too far. It was daylight, but even the sun refused to shine on the day the Demon King fully claimed his complete victory.
Rain started to fall when Oikawa descended down his throne and made his way to the execution stage.
Fitting.
The whole citizens were silenced in the process. They were made to watch; they were made to witness this grand event. No protest was heard. This was it. The last piece of opponents to the Demon King's history of monarchy. After this, the nights and days would forever be the Demon King's. After this, all citizens' fates were to wait in line until the summon letter was sent: just who the unlucky was to be beheaded in front of the King, because, really, after this, nothing was quite challenging, and the King could get bored easy.
They started with Tsukishima first. In all honesty, Oikawa knew little about this cheeky blonde-haired brat. But he was the last remain of the Karasuno militia, and that should mean something.
"Last word?" Oikawa asked as he drew his own sword.
Tsukishima only glanced at the King. A boy had many things to wish. A boy had many dreams to die for. But he had lost too much and if he were to live, he would live in the dark days under a tyrant anyway. Days of torture, days of defeat, days of despair. And against those, the alternative death was probably not too bad.
"Whatever," the bespectacled boy murmured.
Oikawa actually gave Tsukishima a chuckle first before he swung his sword and severed the head.
The citizens drew hiss as the blonde head rolled down, but they soon quieted themselves. It would not be funny if they were to be called to the execution stage next.
The guards quickly cleaned the blood and the body of Tsukishima so as to prepare for the next stage. In the mean time, Oikawa waited in his gazebo throne and even had the pleasure of flirting with Shimizu first (down straight dismissed, the Queen never changed). When Maki appeared before the throne again, it was to announce that the stage was ready for the next execution.
"Ah, alright," he said as he stood up and extended his hand towards Shimizu. "Come, my Queen."
Shimizu accepted the hand and together with Oikawa's help, she descended down the throne to walk not too far towards the execution stage. It was cleaned and prepared. Unlike Tsukishima who was shackled down to his knees, Ushijima was chained standing. They dressed him in his formal Shiratorizawa's kingdom attire with a crown on top of his black hair. Death-row prisoner or not, he was still the royalty lineage.
The King faced the other King. Oikawa smiled briefly at Ushijima's ever stern face before the former turned around to face Shimizu.
"Kiyoko-chan?" he hinted.
Shimizu nodded, and she extended both her arms to offer the King with the sword of the late General. In the claim for the total victory, Kuroo must be present. The King, the Queen, and the General. As the unholiest of the unholy trinity, they would do this claim of victory together.
"For Kuroo," Shimizu said as she basked Kuroo's sword with her own poison before she handed the hilt to Oikawa.
Oikawa smiled as he took the sword from Shimizu's hand. Whispering fondly to the sword, he muttered with closed eyes, "Buddy, I may not present you Ushijima's sword. But it is your sword I will use to shed his blood."
When Oikawa opened his eyes again, they were blazing red.
Ushijima was taller than him, and Oikawa did not mind Ushijima looking down at him due to the height difference. Soon, it would be Ushijima's dead eyes that needed to gaze up at him when it fell to the ground.
There was almost a wave of sentimentality when Oikawa looked at Ushijima. The centuries-old rivalry, his most difficult and worthy opponent… Oikawa at least allowed one truth to come up his lips.
"It's been an honor to fight you all these time, the King of Shiratorizawa," he spoke earnestly. "Any last word?"
Ushijima stared at Oikawa. Not a trace of smile, not a trace of frown, only his usual default expression and strong gaze. Oikawa nearly shivered.
"You should have…" Ushijima began but he refrained himself. With a low chuckle –the closest thing to a smile Ushijima would ever express, he rephrased his words. "No. You shouldn't have. You couldn't have."
"What? Come to the light?" Oikawa sneered.
Ushijima smirked. The White King might have a weird sense of humor that way. "For someone whose heart is as dark as you, you should have never even stepped into the light. You will ruin it."
"Hm," Oikawa shrugged. "As expected."
"Farewell, Oikawa."
The brown-haired King gave a curt nod, almost a salute.
"Farewell, Ushijima."
And he swung his sword straight against Ushijima's neck.
The head fell and one citizen cried.
Then two. Then seven. Then twelve. Then nineteen. Then every single innocent citizen cried. Even the guards could not stop the wave of cries, could not punish those who cried, because there were just so many of them who wept. There went their their last hope –drowned in the drain. This was it. The day the Kingdom truly bled black, the day Grand Demon King Oikawa Tooru became the whole empire's sole tyrant.
And in the midst of his own citizens' cries, the King only held his Queen's hand in one hand, the General sword's raised up high in the other. And he laughed. He hysterically laughed because this was it. The day where he seized everything and had everything in his clutch.
The castle held the celebration seven days straight. Every household in the kingdom mourned, but for now, Oikawa did not care for the mourners –he wanted to celebrate, he wanted to be engulfed in his victory and glory. He no longer cared for the other, cared for nothing else, because he had it all.
His dream.
Shimizu only watched high from her throne as Oikawa laughed and danced and flirted with the court ladies and became the center of attention. Those who were in the castle all celebrated with Oikawa –not caring for the citizens who were whimpering in fear for what the next days would bring them.
"Would this fine lady give me the honor for a dance?" Oikawa asked as he extended his hand towards Shimizu.
"I don't dance," Shimizu pointed out.
"Come on, sweetheart," Oikawa still had his hand extended. "I offer you a chance to dance with the most irresistible and powerful man in this empire. How can you say no to that?"
The smallest hint of smirk made it to Shimizu's face as she exhaled a defeated sigh. With playfully arched eyebrow, she told him, "An offer stops being an offer when it comes from you, my King." It was a reminiscent of their first meeting. But she stood up from her chair and gracefully accepted the hand. "Just one dance," she warned.
"Perfect," he grinned, before he pulled her quickly, and she nearly stumbled down the throne. Shimizu even chuckled as Oikawa laughed out loud. But he held her firm, and she allowed his contagious smile to tug the corners of her lips more. They went down the ballroom and the others made way for the King and the Queen.
The music was a joyous one. Oikawa twirled Shimizu and, goodness, she was truly the most graceful and beautiful thing to happen in his life.
"You agreed to only one dance," she flatly reminded when he did not release her hands upon the start of the next music. It was slower in tempo and more melodiously calm.
"Can't have enough of you, my dear. Do forgive me," he grinned.
Shimizu smiled, and when the lights of the castle were dimmed down she rested her head on Oikawa's chest. The movements were slow and she closed her eyes. He drew her even closer and pressed his chin on top of her head, holding her tight and he was not letting her go.
It was gentle, the most romantic thing the King had ever done to her, and she could not lie to herself –it brought her with all inexplicable feeling. In Oikawa, Shimizu found hell. But hell was her home –a place to return to. He was her sole purpose now, her sole everything. How far she had come. How far he had become. All the journey, all the tears and pain and damnation and sins… how far, how far and how tiring, yet at the same time…
…how fulfilling.
She had never felt her heart being filled with so many emotions at the same time. Not even Yachi, she realized. Only the King could as much evoke this complicated sense of completion that burned her more than the sun did.
"Is this all?" she asked when he said not a word after and just swayed her in steady and rhythmic movement.
"What?" he asked as he kissed the crown of her black hair.
"Your dream?" she whispered. "Have you finally realized all your dreams, all your wishes?"
He hugged her tighter. "Almost. I have all but my last dream fulfilled."
Shimizu clutched his back and something began to choke her throat. "Thatone?"
"Yes," Oikawa affirmed, before he pulled himself back so that he could look at the Queen's eyes. But his hands around her waist remained, just as her hands on his shoulders did. "Only one that remains."
"…"
"Could you, now, Kiyoko-chan?"
Shimizu glanced at Oikawa. The Queen looked up at her King. Kiyoko searched deep through Tooru's window of soul –no other eyes had ever spoken such determination, such complexity, twistedness, childishness, bizarre being that Oikawa Tooru was.
And more than anything, she searched deep into her own soul. The one that bore too many sins, weighed her down and down to the pit of inferno –that darkest place no one touched, that not even the Sun could shine upon. In the darkness of her heart, she searched for the answer, for the confirmation, for the strongest attachment…
And digging deep inside her as she locked her gaze with his warm brown eyes, she finally found it.
A smile spread through her lips when the realization hit her. Her heart burst. Because as complex, as twisted, as unbelievable, as morbid as her feeling went, now she had it all confirmed.
Oikawa smiled too.
And his smile remained even when Shimizu pierced his heart with the dagger.
The music came into a halt. The court nobles and ladies shrieked. The guards were rendered completely speechless –for had it been anyone else to hurt the King, they would rage and immediately confine the person.
But it was the Queen. The very wife of the Demon King himself. The second one in charge. What were the guards expected to do?
Oikawa let out a hiss as Shimizu thrust the dagger deeper into his heart, to the point the hilt was the only thing that did not disappear into his flesh. Heart was a crucial thing –even for the Demon King. And a dagger which had been soaked in the legendary flower's nectar –the one Tobio-chan once used to hurt him, the one Hinata used to kill Kuroo, the one Oikawa himself saved in a small glass container and gave to Shimizu only…
…it would kill him. This time, it really would.
His body was heavy when gravity pulled him down, but Shimizu held and embraced him. She slowly fell to her knees as well, her arms never once let go of the King. She had vowed once to bear all his sins, all his bloodied footsteps –it was not hard to bear his death as well.
Oikawa coughed blood and Shimizu let the tears fell from her eyes. And when she thought she could never shed another tear after she killed Yachi…apparently, she was mistaken.
Apparently to her, there was a death more agonizing than Yachi's.
A snippet of the memory fondly tickled into her mind as she continued to hug and hug and hug Oikawa to the fullest.
"…And my dream…if I must die, I want to die like Iwa-chan."
"To be betrayed in your death?"
"No," he softly whispered. "To die in the hand of a person whom I love and who loves me back."
"K-Kiyoko-chan?" Oikawa smiled when he heard her sobs getting louder. "Hey, wifey, don't cry. This is what I want, okay?"
She could not fulfill that one last request. She could not not cry. Not when it was like this. Not when her heart was ripped into million shards when Oikawa gently stroked the tresses of her black hair. Not when she loved a person just as much as she hated him. Not this. Not this inexplicable feeling that was eating her inside out.
Not when there was a realization that came too late; not when there was a feeling born in a kingdom as black as this and towards a man as damned as him.
"I-I love you," she choked out. It was cruel that the confession came at a time like this, but it was only in the cruel tragedy that the forsaken King and Queen be allowed to love each other.
Oikawa beamed. "I know," he softly said. "And I-I wouldn't have given you the flower poison if I didn't love you back, right?"
"T-Tooru…" Shimizu cracked. "W-what am I going to do after this?"
He sighed and the pain was spreading so fast, it was hard to even draw a breath now. But for his queen, for Kiyoko-chan, for this love even more twisted than his love to Iwa-chan, he would brace all the pain to look at her for the last time.
She slowly descended his body until he was laying down on the cold floor. But her hand, still, never let go of his.
"Be free," he requested. "Find another home. Find a place where your soul can rest peacefully. And this time…" he smiled. "Do it for yourself and not for anybody, n-not even for the K-King's sake."
She closed her eyes and the big droplets of tears fell even faster. "It's hard. H-how can you ask me this? This is hard, Tooru…"
"I know," he gritted his teeth. So, so painful. He could barely grip Shimizu's hand back if it was not for her holding him. "But you're the strongest woman I've ever encountered so," he sighed. "So you'll be fine."
"I love you," she repeated –just because she knew this was his final moment and she wanted this to be the last thing he heard and memorized. She wanted this to be the last thing he knew, she needed this to be the last thing he trusted her on. "I love you," she whispered with a touch of kiss onto his knuckles.
Her face… Her beautiful face, how he longed to touch it once more. How he wished things were different. How he hoped he could love her more, love her better. How he dreamed of another life, another destiny, another realm and another destiny. Not one in this black kingdom. Not one marred in blood and sin and guilt.
(Now, now. Remember your place. You two deserve no such thing)
Oikawa scoffed.
Above him, the Queen chanted the same thing over and over again. She held him tight, and her words, her promise was the same. Her words were getting fainter, or maybe his ears could hear less. But she kept trying and he could only say the acknowledgment.
"I know," he replied; his hand was extended slowly to reach for her face. "…I know, my beloved Queen." One last time. He just needed to touch her one last time –
His hand fell before he could touch her face.
People reaped what they sowed. Kings included.
And that…was how the Grand Demon King died; seven days after his claim of complete victory, in his own grand palace and by the hand of his own Queen.
Nobody dared to say a thing, to make a single move after.
And it was quiet for a while. The Queen hovered her palm over the King's eyes to close them forever before she bent down to kiss his knuckles again. She finally let go of his hand and folded them neatly on top of his abdomen. When she stood up and faced the crowd too horrified for the sight, they all took a step back.
The Queen, no, now the sole ruler of this Demon Kingdom did not even tremble nor shake when she said her order. She was regal and calm. Collected, sound, rational for someone so morbidly irrational –and for that, only she deserved to rule the Demon Kingdom and made her first order.
"Maki," she called out.
The Head Guard now stammered as he walked towards the Queen and bowed to her.
"Y-yes, my Queen?"
"My order is now absolute, isn't it?"
"Yes, my Queen. At your service."
Shimizu nodded. "Good. Because today marks the end of my husband's reign. A new day shall come to the kingdom. A new era. A new ruler. Hold an election after this. This Kingdom is the people's. Only ask the citizens what they want to do with this kingdom."
The guests began to whisper anxiously. Maki asked with a frown, "B-but my Queen! Aren't you going to rule us?"
"No," Shimizu affirmed. "I am only my husband's shadow. If he is not ruling, so won't I," she said as she looked at the rest of the guests and staffs. "Please vacate the castle. You are all now free."
There was hesitation at first. But then the crowd cheered. The guests swarmed out of the castle to spread the news of the falling kingdom. The guards looked at each other, and only when they saw that their head guards, Maki, made no move, that they, too, joined the crowd and the wave of celebration began. Shimizu smiled slightly. Never had she seen the people this joyful.
By the time she looked around again, the castle was already empty. Almost. Maki was still there –fists clenched so tightly.
"T-this is not how the Demon Kingdom should end," he said with gritted teeth. "My Queen, please, order me to do something else! There can never be an election! The kingdom is run throughroyal history! The kingdom can't end this way!"
Holding Oikawa's face near her chest and caressing his brown locks, Shimizu shook her head. "No. This is not the end for the Kingdom, Maki. This is just the end for the King and the Queen, but never the kingdom. Never the people. Do you understand?"
Maki sobbed and brushed his drenched face with his sleeves. "Y-yes, my Queen."
"Good. Now can you leave me and my husband alone? And…" she paused to give it one last thought. The hall was almost vacant now –it had been this way too when she first met the King and became his queen. The day he made the offer. The day he chained her. The day she belonged to him. The days, those days…how she wished to return to those days…
Find a place where your soul can rest peacefully. And this time…do it for yourself.
Shimizu nearly snickered to herself. Oh, dear King. If only he had known where her soul could rest peacefully…
"Yes, my Queen?" Maki slowly asked when the Queen had yet to make her next order.
She made up her mind. "…And I want you to burn this castle with me and the King in it."
Maki paled. The King's orders had been vicious, but the Queen's had been crazy. "B-but my Queen! You can't –"
"My order is absolute, isn't it?" she reconfirmed.
"Please order me to do something else!"
"Vacate and burn this place," the Queen mandated as she slowly turned back to the King's last resting place. "Now," she icily told him her last order.
Maki sobbed and brushed his drenched face with his sleeves. "Y-yes, my Queen," he whispered as he bowed for one last time and exited the hall.
Shimizu closed her eyes. She no longer cared for Maki. She no longer cared for anything. There was only one thing she wanted to do. She returned to Oikawa and descended herself down on the floor. Laying on the carpeted floor, she pulled Oikawa closer to her and watched him. Beautiful. He always told her how beautiful she was. While in fact, she thought that he was the most beautiful of them all.
"My King," she whispered to the man who could no longer say a word. A soft smile spread on her face as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer to him "All your dreams already come true. Now, can I dream as well?"
"Do succubus dream?" he asked; his fingers remained intertwined between her hair.
"We can't," Shimizu answered.
"Why not?"
"Dreams come to those who have deep attachment towards something. By default, succubus are not created for that. We don't really feel or have particular sentiment towards anything."
"Not even to me? When I'm this irresistible?"
She gave him a deadpanned stare.
He chuckled. "It would be nice if you can dream about me someday, Kiyoko-chan."
By the time the smoke infiltrated the room and the fire crept around, Shimizu was already fallen asleep by Oikawa's side. The sun was never hers, but hell's flame welcomed her well. And as the grand castle was burning, the dream took her in too.
She did not even dream about Yachi, or Kuroo, or anyone else. At the end of the day, there was only one existence whom could make her feel the strongest sentiment, the strongest attachment.
She dreamed of Oikawa Tooru.
And in a kingdom this twisted, her first dream was the best she had ever had.
The End
A/n: goodness grief finally this shit is done…
Not to sound exhausted, because I actually really enjoy the writing process. Oh my goodness, I truly miss killing characters in a fanfic *insert evil author's laugh* There you go, folks! My take on the FHQ AU –twisted as dark as I could. Now that I think about it, nearly all characters die. For those mentioned in the story, I probably only allow Noya, Tanaka, Lev and Maki live. Oh dear lord.
But anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this story, as demonic as it is. Sadistic oikiyo is my kink and overall, I'm relieved to get this out of my mind. Thank you all for reading until the end! It will be really meaningful to me if you can give your thoughts on this story :)