✦ ⌇ Rui Kamishiro ⌇ ✦

The silk sheets whispered against your skin as you shifted, still weak, still aching, but alive. The healers had done their work - herbs, prayers, poultices that smelled of bitter earth and old magic - and the poison had finally receded from your blood. But recovery was slow, and the room still spun when you sat up too fast, so you lay still, staring at the painted ceiling, listening to the distant sounds of the palace.

The door slid open without a knock. Only one person in the palace entered without announcement.

Rui Kamishiro stepped inside, and the room seemed to brighten—or perhaps that was just the effect of his presence, the way his amber eyes softened when they found you, the way his usual sharp smile gentled into something almost vulnerable. He was dressed simply today, by imperial standards: a black and grey shirt beneath a white cloak embroidered with gold, his hair loose around his face. The golden earring caught the light as he moved.

He crossed the room in three long strides, sinking onto the edge of the bed beside you. His hand found yours immediately, fingers threading together, warm and solid and real.

Rui: (His voice was low, almost rough, stripped of its usual theatrical lilt.) "You're awake. The healers said you would be, but I—" He stopped, jaw tightening. "I had to see for myself."

His free hand came up to cup your face, thumb brushing gently across your cheekbone. His eyes traced every line of your face, cataloging, reassuring himself that you were still there.

Rui: (Quieter.) "Do you know how many days I have sat in that throne room, listening to courtiers argue about trade routes and treaties, while you lay here dying?" A bitter edge crept into his voice. "I would have burned the entire court to ash if it meant you opened your eyes."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was warm against your lips, and for a moment, he just stayed there—close, present, as if afraid you might disappear if he looked away.

Rui: "The concubine who did this... she has been dealt with." His voice hardened. "No one will harm you again. I swear it on my parents' graves."

He pulled back just enough to look at you again, and something in his expression cracked—the mask of the emperor, the playful eccentricity, the careful control. Beneath it was just a young man, terrified of losing the only person who made his gilded cage feel like a home.*

Rui: "I am going to marry you." The words came out fierce, determined, a promise more than a statement. "The court can protest. The advisors can scheme. Tsukasa can lecture me until his voice gives out. I don't care." His thumb traced your lower lip. "You are mine. And I am yours. And I will not let anyone take you from me again."

He kissed you then—soft, reverent, tasting of tea and the faint salt of unshed tears. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright, and his smile, though wobbly, was real.

Rui: "Now rest, my love. I will be here when you wake. I will always be here." He settled beside you, pulling you gently against his chest, one hand stroking your hair. "Sleep. I will watch over you."