Meruem takes her to a place where there are no people. The building they now inhabit, amidst the smell of dust and carefully-cropped bamboo shoots, is small enough for three people to happily wander through its rooms, but no more. And it feels stagnant somehow, unlived in; Komugi can feel the freshness of the air from outside as it roams through windows that possess no glass. It is a wry contrast to the atmosphere around her, of the way it reaches out to grasp hold of her being, almost as though it has been starving for people to tread through its doors once more. And speaking of doors...

She cringes, once again, against the loud squeal of the door as it rocks off its hinges, half-broken. She had felt the weight if it travelling through Meruem's arm into her side, as he had pushed it open to carry her within. And now his curiousity won't let it lie; she can hear him drag his knuckles against it with all the unruliness of a disgruntle child, growling slightly as it lets out another pitiful squeak.

'I do not believe I have ever had the pleasure of oiling a door,' she hears him mutter. 'But if an ordinary human can rebuild one, then this is nothing for me to sneer at.'

'Your Majesty...please...such a task is unworthy-'

'Pouf. You may go.' There is a hesitance then, in the way Komugi feels him stand against the door, his shadow spilling over her and blocking out the warmth of the sun. 'Perhaps I am doing you a cruelty. You cannot fight what you are; but still, I have decided how I wish to live. And it cannot involve your devotion. Truly, I believe now that I was never deserving of it.'

The cry that rings out in reply is barren and shrill and Komugi finds herself eerily reminded of the marsh birds that migrate over her family's house at the onset of evening, their lonely cries becoming the perfect accompaniment for her brother's ghost stories. She shivers. There is something wild bubbling out beyond that door, something beyond her, something savage and animal-like in a way she cannot understand. For a moment she feels caught, scared, as though a wild bear has her in its sights. But then, abruptly, the feeling fades.

There is some sniffling. And then she hears the familiar stretch of a tent being pulled apart by the wind as the wings that helped carry her here, start their harried beating to the skies. Komugi can feel the resulting breeze stir her hair, the coldness of the floor beneath her feet sinking in as she shudders. This place around her feels like a pantry, one that gaps open for the rest of the world to spill through.

'Komugi,' she hears Meruem say as the coolness of his shadow shifts away from her. 'I can take you back to your family if you wish it. But I would prefer...no, I would like it, if you would remain here with me.'

She turns to him, almost stumbling in her glee.

'It would be my greatest honour! Truly, it might perhaps help them, if I were no longer around to burden them...' But then she hesitates. 'Ah...but I would prefer us to have a board for gungi first, if...if that's alright?'

'Without food? Or proper windows?'

She frowns, unable to recognise the teasing lilt to his voice. She has not been around him long enough to recognise his humour, at least not when it does not possess a murderous tinge to it.

'I can survive without food or sleep for a while. But without gungi, it feels as though my mind starts to shrivel! And I do not want to be a brainless fool as well as a hungry one.'

'No,' he says, sounding even more amused. 'Forgive me. It was a foolish suggestion.'

He takes a series of trips without her after that, leaving her to count possible moves through her head as her fingers take up the idle childhood pastime of swirling through the dust. Through memory she sketches out the lines of the board, albeit wonkily, her heart pining for the feel of the pieces beneath her fingers.

'I wonder if I should focus my defence more tightly to the left of the board,' she mutters, one hour. Then in the next: 'No, the archers there need more cover and the spy...that could play a more pivotal role if I shift it just so...'

She snaps her mouth shut as she hears the familiar tread of his feet entering the doorway. Then there is a series of thumps, one of which sounds like a bag rolling across the floor.

'Food,' he says shortly, as if that is explanation enough. And then, rather more gingerly, he leans down over her as he carefully settles a gungi board between them.

'Ah! You found one!' Komugi leans over, her hands sweeping across the wood enthusiastically. 'And it feels so smooth! What quality!'

'I made a trade with an old man who had no need for it anymore,' Meruem says proudly. 'It is the first time I have ever traded with words alone and without the threat of violence. I believe he was grateful for that, though still a little frightened.'

Noticing Komugi's hands impatiently roaming over the board, he smiles and brings out a velvety bag, it's opening looped round with a set of golden tassels. With a clinking shift, he turns it upside down and scatters the pieces free.

Komugi visibly brightens at the noise and playfully humming to herself, starts to pull some of the pieces over to her side of the board. Then she hesitates.

'Ah...which ones are black?' she asks sheepishly.

Meruem's laughter shakes the whole house to its rusty hinges. It surprises him slightly in its force and he feels his hands curling down to grasp his stomach, as though seeking to console the pleasant ache that is left behind. Across from him, Komugi's mouth falls open in similar shock before she tilts her head to the side with a smile.

'I did not know you could sound so happy, Meruem-sama...'

'Neither did I.' But the infectious joy is still in his voice, and it emboldens him to ask something that still niggles at him. 'Komugi. I have a request. If I win, I wish for you to call me by my name. That and nothing more.'

Komugi hesitates, her hands drawing back from the pieces slightly. Then she stiffens, drawing herself up regally as though there is something beyond air to stiffen her spine against. 'And if I win, I will touch your face,' she declares. 'You said I should, after all.' Then she hesitates. 'Um, you see, you once asked me if there was anything I wanted if I won. And well, I guess...' she trails off sheepishly, her royal posture magically undone as she shifts and rubs the back of her head awkwardly. 'I guess now...there are a few things I want, after all.'

Meruem doesn't admonish her the way she fears he might. 'That is good,' he says softly. 'A life without desire would be an empty one indeed.'

And then with a decisive clink, he pushes all the black pieces over to Komugi's side of the board. He feels like playing with the white ones this time.

Komugi wins, of course. Meruem knew it was coming, sometime after his twenty-sixth move. But the loss still digs in deep, still causes his heart to flutter with both pain and pride. And of course there is the usual curl of anticipation, one that emerages on his face in the form of a wry grin.

I want to grow, he thinks, to grow and evolve and see how much further I can push along Komugi's abilities. Speaking of which...

The girl in front of him breathes in deeply. Then, she sticks out her hands, turning them so he can see the tremble in her palms.

'I-if you please, Meruem-sama,' she says bravely, eyes almost watering at the strain of her daring, 'give me your face.' Then she cringes slightly, shoulders bunching up beneath her dress. 'Ah, un-unless o-of course, you've changed your mind...'

'Foolishness,' says Meruem a little tensely, his tail snapping to the side in obvious displeasure. 'I do not go back on my word.'

Komugi seems to mull this over for a moment. Then she turns to the side, and to Meruem's horror, begins crawling towards him, the fingers of her left hand brushing against the side of the board in an earnest attempt at naviagation.

'What are you doing? There is no need for such a display.'

Komugi flinches at the sharpness of his tone, but her face doesn't lose the determined frown, nor do her fingers cease their weak sweeps of motion at the edge of the board. On someone else the movements would look graceful, perhaps, like a form of ritual or dance. But Komugi's fingers only seem to take up elegance when they clasp round a gungi piece. Here, her fingers curl when they don't need to, scrambling at the grooves of the board as though in fear that they're taking up too much space.

'I did not mean to insult you,' she says steadily.

Meruem watches as one of her knees slides forwards.

'I just...I do want to know you Meruem-sama. I did not mean to reject you or your generousity. So I will come to you. As an apology.'

Meruem's tail twitches. Then he sighs and, in a move he would never have considered in the past, bends his back for someone else.

'I'm here,' he says lowly.

Komugi stills. Then her hand leaves the board, reaching out through the air towards his cheek. It lands there, her palm settling automatically into a cupping motion, one that somehow seems to smooth out the slight twitching motion of her fingers. They brush up, around the dip of skin that announces the beginning of the hollow that trails down to his eye, before briefly getting confused by the lower ridge of his shell-like scalp. Meruem has to reach up once, to help untangle her fingers from the loose flap of skin that hangs down in front of his ear, slapping against both their hands with all the firmness of a harness. Komugi blushes a little, but continues her exploration, her fingers making light, feathery glides across the surface of his skin. They touch carefully, as though worried that the slightest pressure from them would cause his skull to cave.

Meruem almost chuckles at that.

At last they alight on his mouth, her thumb carefully pushing at the firm folds of skin like a curious child. Meruem's jaw unhinges and he lets his mouth slide open, just wide enough to let said thumb slip inside.

Perhaps Komugi is unaware of human propriety. Or perhaps she has decided not to care. For she does not flinch or draw away, though her cheeks do become doused with a fiery red, one Meruem likens to a certain species of flower. It is not a little ironic that it is the very same that Netero's bomb was named after.

'I do not know the faces of many men, Meruem-sama. But even if I did, I do not think I would prefer them to yours.'

It's an ill-judged compliment, Meruem thinks. And one with a flawed premise. But nevertheless, it is something he can live with. It's not as though Komugi will go around, becoming aquainted with the face of every person she meets, after all.

He sucks at her thumb gently, a little curious to see her reaction.

Komugi reddens even more and draws her thumb back with a decisive 'pop'.

'Sorry,' she mutters, 'but I wish to play another game.'

Meruem's face immediately lights up. Now that is a desire easily granted.

'Komugi,' he says after their sixth game, 'I am dying.'

Komugi freezes, her general in the midst of capturing one of Meruem's archers. She swallows and closes her fingers around the offending piece, swiftly drawing it round to her side of the board. Meruem closes his eyes softly with a sigh.

'At first I did not wish to tell you,' he says. 'I feared it would ruin our time together. But to deny you knowledge...I feel it would be a sign of disrespect. And...this poison. It is infectious. I have only been affected by a little, just enough to seep away my life slowly, in a matter of years, or perhaps even months. But if you stay, you will end up affected too.'

Komugi blinks. Then, with all the grace in the world, her arm rises, but this time free of the characteristic curl her hand usually places round the pieces. Instead, a solitary finger points at him and Meruem draws himself up, eyes widened at her daring.

'It's your move, Meruem,' she says, without so much as a quiver infecting her voice.

Slowly, he straightens with a smile.

'So it is.'