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When he first opened his eyes, it was into nothingness. A world of blur and white. Footsteps all over could be heard along with frantic shouts mixing with the sound of machines. He was pretty sure he went back to sleep then seeing as when he next came to, everything was different. He was still within a dark room, yes, but everything was different. Altered. For starters, the smell of disinfectant and flowers - roses mixed with carnations - danced around him. The room, once brimming with excited air, was still and calm. And unlike the blazing white light he saw when he first opened his eyes; he was welcomed this time around by soft beams of light peeking through the room. Eyes already adjusting, he studied the room he was in.
It was spacious. Lavish. A room fit for a king. And if his assumption was correct – gilded furnishings and royal insignias all over – it was safe to say that he was inside one as well. The sheets felt soft beneath him as he slowly sat up, feet comforted by the carpeted floor. His head felt empty yet full to the brim. With a blink, he stared blankly ahead of him. Trying to sort out a mess of non-existent memories and factual philosophies as he tried in vain to make sense of why he was here.
He would frown if only he remembered how.
Tiny flecks of dust swayed to and fro within his vision. Intrigued, he got up from his perch and approached it. Pale fingers curled around the curtains - silk - and carefully pulled at them, revealing the view outside. Mist covered the humble houses underneath as people from all over began preparing for their day. To look down at them like so – it only further proved his earlier statement. He was inside a castle. But why?
“Oh good, you’re awake,” a presence said from the door.
Bored of the scenery before him, he turned towards them. The man – slightly older than him, poor dietary lifestyle, suffering from lack of sleep – read a document in a lackadaisical manner – apathetic – before regarding – observing – him.
“Do you know who you are?”
I am…
…
It was told that when the gods first created the world, humanity was unable to properly govern itself. To solve this, it was agreed upon that the gods shall chose who shall rule for the kingdoms made. These people were said to be the pinnacle of the morals their state represents. Furthermore, legends say that these people were closely bonded with their domain that the land itself experiences their pain and pleasure.
…
“The king…” he paused, holding the white king piece – pure marble with golden highlights – before his eyes, “all I have to do is wake him up?”
The man before him – “It’s Matsuda. Get it right.” – clicked his tongue and urged him to put the piece back down and make a move already. “And cure him, yes.” Matsuda narrowed his gaze at the monochromatic board before them. He hesitated before moving his bishop, capturing his opponent’s white queen. “Once he is well, everything will be better.”
He remained silent as he studied the board. Losing the queen was a necessary sacrifice. ‘Now then,’ he continued his musings. Within three moves, he would successfully promote his own pawn and regain the queen he lost. From there, it would only take him another three more to seal Matsuda’s downfall.
…
The Kingdom of Spades was an old one. Since the dawn of time, it has been a proud bearer of its traditions and culture. Recent years, however, proved that as conventional as Spades may be, they were still capable of change. It started with simple ideas, then some tinkering, and then came the machines, and then the new age was born. It wasn’t that different from before. Most things remained the same but it was now predictably better and easier.
But despite the change, most people still held on to their beliefs – as expected of rigid conservatives – and continued spreading it. One such belief was born of old tradition and years of endless apprehension.
“None shall love the Queen, for the land cries for her!”
…
Much like clockwork, the game proceeded and ended as planned. It was a checkmate – the solitary new white queen against the remaining opposing officials alive – with Matsuda floundering on how exactly he missed such a crucial move.
…
The first time he saw the king, he was with Matsuda.
It was a normal – average – morning with the rest of the castle staffs – boring – running around – predictable – to keep the castle alive. Matsuda deemed him fit enough – as expected – to visit the sleeping king. He would be lying if he said that it wasn’t interesting. During his stay in the palace, he has heard – gathered – enough rumors –pieces of information – regarding the absent monarch.
Evidently, the king has fallen gravely sick that he was unable to leave his bed, let alone properly conduct his business. It was unknown what the cause was but, as expected of gossip-mongers, people all over claim that it was because of a curse. With the king blessed with divine luck and his connection to the land, it was quite possible that the cosmic powers surrounding him have overwhelmed his body. Or that someone tried to assassinate him. Or that the king himself wanted to commit genocide.
Regardless of the reason, Matsuda was insistent he came along and help find a cure for the king.
…
He was young - closer to his age than Matsuda – with sylphlike features one would expect from a woman. Hair as white as freshly fallen snow, and skin as wan as a lily’s petal; the king was attractive in all meaning of the word. If he was a lesser man, he would even consider kissing those rosy lips in hopes of waking him up in true fairy tale fashion. But, alas, he was not merely a man and fairy tales don’t exist.
The king would not wake up from merely a kiss. If he would then, I wouldn’t have to–
…
Wouldn’t have to… what…?
For the first time, ever since he could remember, he placed his hand on his chest and observed. It was beating faster than usual, as if something was pounding against it, wanting to break free.
It was odd.
Strange.
Bizarre.
It was…?
He felt Matsuda’s rolled magazine hitting his head.
“What the hell you doing, spacing out like that? Pay attention.” Matsuda scowled before listing off what he knows about the king’s health.
Listening with only half an ear open, he watched the slumbering king and wondered what it would be like if he was awake. It was clear that his mere presence has caused something inexplicable to occur within him. Questions formed needed answers and for such a thing to happen…
“I will make sure that he wakes up.”
…
He was informed later that, prior to his awakening, the entire kingdom was suffering from heavy rains. Flood was threatening to sink the entire capital and the tides were starting to eat away their shores. It was only due to the previous queen’s actions that catastrophe was avoided, or so they said. When he asked about his predecessor, he merely received a look.
“Don’t bother about such trivial things. Focus on the king’s recuperation.”
Understandable. Humans would cling to a dim hope if it would mean their survival. They would take all chances they could get to ensure that they would live long enough to see tomorrow. And despite the queen’s actions, should the king fall down, the entire kingdom would disappear as well.
Outside the window, the sky was as clear as it was yesterday, with the sun continuing to shine on, as the water sources start to run dry.
…
The kingdom was in turmoil…
“Time is running out…”
“Why isn’t he waking up?!”
"First storm, now drought..."
“...Was he aware of what we’ve done?”
“Would he really choose that person over his people?!”
…and yet, all the king did was sleep on.
…
“Those people out there,” he mused as he tinkered with a device in hopes of waking the king, “what do they hope to achieve by protesting in front of the gates?”
He has been working day and night beside the slumbering royal, working tirelessly on never-ending plans to wake him up. Matsuda has told him over and over to work someplace else – “My mind works best whenever I am near him” – to no avail. After a couple of days, the older man gave up and just left him to his own devices, occasionally visiting to check up on him and on their shared patient.
“Eh, don’t mind them,” was his supervisor’s – guardian’s – nonchalant reply. Matsuda turned a page of his book and glanced at him. “They just want to feel special.”
“They are asking for my blood to be spilled.”
Matsuda blinked and turned back to his book.
One could say that everything was silent save for the clicks made by metal hitting one another, but with the shouts of protests echoing within the air, what little peace they had, succumbed to the darkness soon enough.
…
It was just as the elders of old have said: Queens die to give birth to a new beginning, as Kings die to bring an end to everything.
What foolish assumptions people cling to when in despair. Boring. All of them.
…
“Until when will you keep on sleeping?” he asked one day while he was alone with the king.
He still doesn’t understand what good his death will bring the masses. Yes, they would be appeased but what assurance do they have that his death will bring them salvation. Countless schemes filled his mind of how to successfully survive the coming drought. The people need only ask for them and he would willingly hand them over. Alas, as predicted, the people of Spades were far too traditional to look outside of the box.
Pale cheeks were cupped, as his thumb ran over the king’s face. “Do you wish to kill everyone? Is that what you truly want?”
Only a fool would think that he would receive an answer. And yet, despite that, he kept on talking to him.
“To die in such a lackluster way…”
“I won’t allow it.”
…
When he first opened his eyes, it was into nothingness. A world of blur and white. Footsteps all over could be heard along with frantic shouts mixing with the sound of machines. He was pretty sure he went back to sleep then seeing as when he next came to, everything was different. The sound of rain hitting the windows and the scent of freshly brewed tea enticed him to awake further. He blinked his eyes a couple of times before reaching over to rub them.
“Good morning,” someone said beside him.
Not yet fully awake, he squinted at them as he sat up, yawning. “Who…?”
“About damn time, Sleeping Beauty,” a familiar voice called out from the door.
His brows furrowed as he stared at the two in confusion. “Matsuda…? What’s going on?”
“You were practically dead to the world for days, is what happened.” Matsuda approached and rested his elbow over the stranger’s head. “This guy here saved your life.”
Green eyes blinked rapidly in surprise before turning towards his visitor. “Is this true?”
The stranger nodded his head, black hair swaying along.
“…You don’t talk much, do you?” he smiled.
His visitor merely stared at him, red eyes glowing bright with some unknown fire.
He laughed and would have said something more when Matsuda waved a couple of documents to his face. “Hope you enjoyed your beauty sleep, because you have tons of work to get back to.” With those words said, he started walking out the door.
“W-wait…!” He sighed and slumped back on the bed. “I just woke up and now I have to do all these… Ah, what bad luck.”
“...Let me assist you.”
“H-huh..? But this is the first time we’ve met! I can’t possibly ask something like–” he pursed his lips together when he saw just how insistent the other is. He looked down at the documents on his lap and thought long and hard about it. Surely, something like this is also…
“Well… I suppose if you insist, who am I to deny you. But first!”
His companion raised an eyebrow at his new found enthusiasm.
“What’s your name? I am–”
“Komaeda Nagito. King of Spades,” his visitor deadpanned but Nagito couldn’t help but feel like the other was unnecessarily smug.
“Wow… To have someone like you know about me, I feel honored. But still, I would prefer it if you tell me your own name instead of mine, you know,” he grinned, finding himself at peace after such a long time.
His visitor blinked before replying, “I am referred to as Kamukura Izuru.”
“Referred to, huh.” A frown settled on his face shortly before a brilliant smile took its place. “Regardless, it’s so nice to meet you. I hope that we get along well!”
Kamukura merely nodded, lips quirking up a little, but to Nagito, that was enough.