Suppressed Memories
Original



Yami stared. His face was stony, blank, absolutely devoid of any and all emotions. His crimson eyes flickered from one of his twin nephews to the next. Shuichi was staring him dead in the eye; his hair started curiously white but ended in black tips and it was combed neatly. Jin glanced nervously between his uncle and his twin brother; his hair was wild locks that started with black and ended in white.

“Dead?” Yami repeated, somewhat skeptically, “What do you mean, ‘dead’?”

The twins looked at each other uncomfortably. How much more blunt could they really be?

Shuichi, the much more tamed looking of the twins stepped forward gently touching his uncles’ frail looking wrist, his young face was only filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Uncle Yami,” was all he said.

Yami stared down at this nephew’s hand. His fingertips were really the only things he offered for comfort.

How could this be? This wasn’t right… this was the first time he had ever met his nephews… No, not like this! He could not meet them under these conditions.

Yami jerked his wrist away, staring daggers at the young boy in front of him. Shuichi stepped back several times, looking extremely alarmed. The twins exchanged worried looks.

“You must be mistaken,” Yami said coldly. He glanced to his brother, Ankei. The blond had said nothing since Jin and Shuichi had run to them to deliver the awful news. The now King of Aurora simply stared silently down at the polished floors. His blue gaze was locked in a fruitless staring contest with his own reflection that he could just barely make out within the white marble tile.

Yami gave him a withering stare. How dare he not question these fools! Barely even fourteen years of age, the twins, and trying to deliver to them such devastating life-changing news. They must have misheard. They were just silly ill-informed children.

“Uncle, we’re not mistaken—“ said Jin, daring to make eye contact with his furious looking uncle. Apparently he had decided that Yami was in denial.

“—we were there. We saw him go.” Shuichi finished, softly.

“I want to see him.”

Neither the twins nor Yami had spoken. The three turned their gazes to the new King. Ankei hesitated, as if regretting he had spoken. Softly he said again, “Please… I want to see him.”

Jin and Shuichi shifted uneasily.

“But, Dad—“ Shuichi started.

“—Are you sure?” Jin said.

“Why don’t you rest first—“

“It must have been a really long trip,” Jin finished, scratching his cheek nervously, “It’s pretty late…”

“Where is he?” Yami asked, scowling back and forth between the boys. He was still trying to grow use to the fact that the two completed each other’s sentences and thoughts. It was confusing and unnerving. He had never seen this sort of behavior with anyone before.

“I think you should rest,” Shuichi said delicately, though he had a certain sense of authority in his voice. But that couldn’t be right—this child couldn’t even grasp the severity of the situation. It was infuriating.

“You mock me, child?” Yami hissed, stepping forward and grabbing the front of his nephews’ collar. He jerked the boy forward and scowled down into his handsome face. For a fleeting moment Yami wondered how many more years he had left to have a height advantage over the twins.

“H-Hey!” Jin gasped and angrily stepped between them and pushed his uncle and twin brother apart. “Relax, all right?” He snapped, glaring at Yami and fending him off with his elbow as he stepped protectively in front of Shuichi.

Yami did well not to smile. It was like watching Ankei protecting him from the angry townspeople… All those years ago when he was so sure those furious Aurorian’s were going to kill him… but then Ankei had come and had been so positively and utterly disgusted with the townspeople for treating Yami they way they had. Yami had never seen them look so ashamed of themselves…

Yami blinked away the nostalgic thoughts and crossed his arms over his chest. He turned away suddenly and his long black hair flicked sharply with the motion, “Where is my father?” He demanded coldly.

Reluctantly, to avoid further confrontation, the twins gave in and led the Starboon brothers to the late King’s bedchamber. The twins nodded to the two and after placing a hand on their fathers’ shoulder reassuringly, they left the two to their mourning.

Yami stood at the doorway, squinting in the poor light of the room at this father’s motionless body. It was hard to tell if the twins had been right or not… Ankei brushed up against him as he stepped by, and Yami jerked away in surprise. Wordlessly the prince watched his brother cautiously make his way to their fathers’ side.

Ankei stood for several silent minutes staring at Kitisrumi’s ashen handsome face. His crimson locks drifted from his face like hot embers, almost as if they were merely spread across the downy pillow for amusement.

Shaking, Ankei reached out, his fingertips brushing lightly against his fathers’ crimsons hair—

Little four year old Ankei giggled and his father broke into a wide grin as he tossed the boy up into the air. Ankei squealed joyfully and as he came down his father caught him in a swooping gesture, holding the boy up in the air under his arms. Ankei giggled then pawed at his father, and giving in, Kitisrumi brought him into a hug, kissing his eldest son on the brow.

The little boy blinked his brilliant blue eyes pensively as ran his little hands through his fathers flaming red hair as if expecting it would singe him… but when it didn’t the boy tilted his head inquisitively, “Daddy, why doesn’t your hair burn me?” He asked and his childish voice was high-pitched with curiosity.

“Because, Daddy wouldn’t want his precious little boy to get hurt!” Kitisrumi replied with another of his heartfelt chuckles—

Ankei blinked and a tear escaped the corner of his eye. He didn’t bother to brush it away. His father deserved his tears.

Sighing very softly, Ankei sat at the edge of the bed. One hand his hands reached out to clasp over the cold and stiff fingers of his fathers’ right hand. With the back of his free hand, Ankei gently traced his fathers cheek, his hair, his eyes, his lips even; as if expecting he would just open his brilliantly bright blue eyes and just laugh—

“Daddy, Daddy!” Ankei cried, leaping up onto his fathers’ bed. When the redhead didn’t react, the young boy scrunched up his face. His father’s back was to the blond boy, and the sheets and blankets were pulled up to his waist. “Dad!” Ankei said, demandingly. The king didn’t respond. “D-dad? Hey, Dad! Answer me! Are you okay? Daddy?” Ankei grabbed his father’s shoulder and shook him violently.

The king groaned and rolled over towards his son with one eye closed. He gave his son a half-frown, mostly curious, somewhat annoyed by his wake-up call. “What is it, Ankei?” He questioned sighing and closing his eyes. It was barely even dawn.

“You said we were going to the marketplace!” Ankei said, crossing his arms and glaring at his sleepy father.

Kitisrumi lay silently for a few moments until he opened one eye again. He was rewarded by an impish grin by the Crown Prince. “I did, didn’t I?” The man said, grinning back—

“Please…” Ankei whispered softly, squeezing the lifeless hand of his beloved father as he cupped the man’s face with his other hand. He ran his thumb across the white, cold skin under the kings closed eyes… as if hoping it would coax the life back into him. “Open your eyes, Dad… Please. Like before…. Please.” He lowered his head and tears started to escape from his eyes, “Dad, please. I’m not ready for you to go. I’m not ready to be king…”

Unable to hold in his horror and sorrow, Ankei fell against his fathers’ body and pressed his face against the man’s chest, sobbing. One hand clutched his fathers crimson locks and the other clung to the kings white tunic. Ankei did nothing to fight against the tears—not even so much as caring that Yami witnessed his hysteria.

Yami stood silently at the door still, unsure of what to do. The king was, quite obviously, dead… No, not the king… his father.

Yami’s face twisted into a scowl. Father? His “father” had treated him like he was a the manifestation of all evil—some deadly disease that if touched, would blacken and taint everything around it—

”Dad, can we go now?” Ankei was saying as he pulled along his shy and somewhat clumsy little brother behind him by the hand.

Kitisrumi froze, horrified, as stared at his sons interlaced hands. A look of panic crossed his features and he leaped forward, wrenching the two apart. He pulled Ankei along with him, glaring unkindly at the crimson-eyed boy.

“Dad?” Ankei ventured, confused.

“Shh…” Kitisrumi said softly, distracted. He ran his fingers through the seven year olds soft and beautiful blond hair. “…Yami can’t come today. Next time,” he said faintly, and then he glanced sharply down at the blue-eyed beauty. The king took his sons hands and stared intently at his palms as if expecting them to show signs of decay. Kitisrumi’s usually warm gaze was cold as he turned it to his youngest son, as if asking how he could commit such a blasphemously heinous crime. How dare he touch the heir of the Kingdom.

Yami stood where he was, very frightened. His crimson eyes were wide with fear and his little hands trembled over his lips as if he was trying to keep the tiny, terrified squeaks silent… He was so scared of this man… this man who was his father—

Yami shuddered involuntarily, hugging himself as he shook. He glanced towards his brother to see if he had noticed, but the blond was still sobbing uncontrollably over their late father. There had never been a “next” time Yami recalled bitterly.

It was strange, Yami mused silently as he straightened— although he did not stop clinging to himself—Ankei and he had such completely different perspectives of the very same man.

To Ankei, their father had been a Hero; a loving, caring, adoring father, worthy of praise and fond memories.

To Yami he had been a cold, scowling and unforgiving monster that only shadowed the young prince with anxiety and fear. He was never pleased and instead only offered hate and disapproval to him… He had even gone as far to keep Yami a prisoner in their own home so he could hide him away from society.

He. Hated. The. Man.

It was all Yami could do to keep himself from laughing uncontrollably.

He was free.

Free from torment, from ridicule, from guilt from this man that had only expressed hate-filled loathing towards him. Never again did he have to try and please a man whose undying hatred had been carved into his flesh the moment their crimson and blue eyes had met. 

Yami bit into the knuckles, trying to stifle his laughter. Even if he was free, he still didn’t want to upset his brother. Ankei loved Kitisrumi… And Kitisrumi had unquestionably loved him back.

Yami stumbled seemingly drunkenly to the armchair overlooking the tall arched window of his father’s bedroom. He glanced at his sobbing brother silently. There was nothing he could say to comfort him. Silently the diminutive demon pulled his knees into his chest and rested his chin on them, wrapping his arms loosely about them. He stared blankly out the window. It was barely dusk… They had left his home…what, two, three days ago? Ankei and he had traveled non-stop to Aurora… and even after all that haste, they hadn’t arrived in time.

Yami closed his eyes, smirking slightly… They had been too late. Yami shivered as he realized he wasn’t even sure himself if he would have been happy to save Kitisrumi’s life. It would have been ironic—that’s for sure. The man Kitisrumi had hated most in the world, his very own son, saving him? Kitisrumi may have allowed himself to die just to save himself that embarrassment… Yami would never know, and really found himself not caring.

Yami glanced one last time at his brother, but Ankei did not seem like he was going to cease his crying anytime soon. So, now, Yami just had to wait out Ankei’s senseless sorrow… The demon closed his eyes and rested his chin on his upraised knees. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

~*~

“…mi… ke up… mi….Yami? Yami?”

“Nnh…?” Yami’s noise of non-reply may have been cute if it weren’t for the fact that he had never seen this woman before. Yami jerked away, doing his best to jar himself into wakefulness. He glared threateningly at the woman, but all-in-all looked rather silly all hunched up and disheveled on the armchair.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said gently. The woman bit her lip and glanced back to the bed. Yami did as well. It was empty. Ankei was gone too.

“Where…?” Yami asked, confused.

“They took Lord Kitisrumi out this morning… Ankei went with him. He wanted to make sure the late king’s body wasn’t mistreated.”

Yami rubbed his eyes. “This morning…?” He glanced out the window. It was overcast and gray outside, but the demon could tell it was already sometime near noon… Had it been a cloudless day, the light would have undoubtedly woken him. Yami, despite this logic, gave the woman a mistrustful glare.

“I’m Mythica,” she said, offering her hand.

Yami glared coldly at it, his arms crossed stubbornly. What did he care about these stupid maids? Then again… ‘Mythica’ sounded very familiar. The young woman let her hand drop eventually once she realized Yami was not going to shake it. She did, however, continued to smile.

“You’re about as obstinate as Ankei described,” she joked, laughing sweetly.

Question marks were nearly visible over the princes’ head. Why would Ankei divulge such information to maids…? Unless—

Yeah, I’m married now. Her name is Mythica. She’s absolutely beautiful. And I’m not just saying that to brag… Oh…and, she’s pregnant too. Hurrah! I’m going to be a father!

Yami opened his mouth slightly, but only managed a distressed noise. Mythica tilted her head patiently as she waited for the prince to regain his composure. Yami hesitated. “But… You’re a human,” he said flatly, not bothering to confirm that she was indeed the woman Ankei spoke of in his brief and far-spread apart letters.

Mythica blinked in surprised, then glared and snorted. “What, little-mister-crimson-eyes is going to pull the racism card?”

Yami’s flushed, “H-how insolent!” He managed, unable to hide his disbelief. There was a reason why he never liked humans—being forced in slavery by them had left a bad taste in his mouth when it came to their kind. She seemed about as callous and unforgiving as them. Unable to contain his own embarrassment of being reminded how out-of-place his crimson-eyes were in this Kingdom he felt himself losing what little restrain he had in the humans presence, “You ignorant—“

“—Hey, let’s not start name calling, kid.”

“Kid? Kid?” Yami sat up, his fingers digging into the chair. He was absolutely beyond himself with disbelief and rage now. He would never be able to respect these awful creatures… These ignorant and loathsome humans, “I am well over a thousand years older then you, you vacuous wretch.”

Slap!

Yami felt like his neck had been broken, but when he reached up to steady is spinning head he realized it wasn’t. But it sure in hell was going to hurt later.

“Don’t you talk to me like that,” Mythica said softly, but her voice was deadly with venom. “I thought we could have a few moments to get to know each other before your fathers’ funeral. But, as it turns out, you’re nothing but an ill-mannered spoiled brat. You should shape up, smile a bit. I know your Fathers death must be hard but we’re all here for you and your brother. Including that energetic young man—“

“What?” Yami gasped, alarmed. He stopped rubbing his neck. “Young man? Who? Where?”

Mythica snorted, glaring, “You’re so demanding and arrogant. He’s too sweet for you. You should learn to mellow out a little and maybe then you’d be worthy of someone like him. You—“

Yami was feeling incredibly impatient and didn’t feel like being talked-down-to by this human, “His name, woman! Who was he?”

Slap!

Yami gasped again, this time his face stung. Badly.

Mythica was glaring sullenly at him. “If you didn’t have such a mouth on you, I wouldn’t need to slap you so much, now would I?”

“…” Yami looked at her as he rubbed his reddened face. She… truly was beautiful. Her hair was in soft brown curls, and the color Yami couldn’t help but notice, was much like his late mothers. The woman’s eyes were fierce, an electric blue, so focused and stunning that it was hard not to look away. Her figure was elegant, but strong, and even sitting she carried a certain boldness and nobility that Yami couldn’t help but notice.

This woman, the demon realized in a daze, was the new Queen of Aurora.

That would make her not only his sister-in-law, but also his superior—this cities catalyst. Yami continued to stare, feeling a little light-headed. He felt stupid for insulting her, for being so ignorant to her position. Her race had blinded him, but the more he thought of their slowly declining conversation, the more he realized he may eventually learn to like her…

Unfortunately he may have already ruined any relationship they may build together. Their strained relation could very well jeopardize all the hard work and heartache Yami and so many others had gone through to try and mend the strained demon and elf relationship… There was only one thing the prince could do.

Yami slid off the armchair and stood before the sitting queen. The demon placed his left fist to his right shoulder and, much to Mythica’s surprise, bowed very deeply to her.

“My most deepest and humblest apologizes, Your Highness,” he said, his voice low and somber. “My impudence should not have clouded my judgment in your royal presence, I can only offer myself as your humble servant until Your Majesty finds it fit to, if at all, forgive my ignorance.”

Mythica stared.

After several long moments, Yami’s back began to ache from his near ninety-degree angle of a bow. He twitched slightly. Why was she being so quiet?

“Do you have split personalities or something?” Mythica asked worriedly. Yami glanced up. She was almost recoiled from him in fear, but she had a very amused look on her face. “Look… Prince Yami, yeah, you were rude, but you’re not going to be my slave or something.”

“Slave?” Yami asked, straightening. He did well to not twitch violently. “I merely offered my services as reparations for my ignorant behavior, Your Highness.”

“…You have very flowery speech,” Mythica observed flatly. She smoothed out her beautiful satin dress. “I don’t have any interest in your ‘services’. Ankei does pretty well with it himself.”

Yami flushed crimson, “Th-that’s not—what, I—you misunderstand—”

Mythica chuckled. “Yeah? Well, most likely. Since, you’re into pretty blond boys.” She grinned slyly at him.

Yami fidgeted. Was she talking about Ankei? Or—

“Kaelin!” The demon gasped, “He’s here? Is that who you meant?”

“Yeah. He’s got some cute little redhead girl marching him around the castle by his hand. It’s really quite adorable.”

“…Flouresce is here too…?” Yami asked, his face crestfallen… Those two—

The door burst open.

“Daddy!”

Yami groaned inwardly, but turned to catch his daughter as she tackled him around the waist. The demon stumbled back and brought himself down to one knee as his daughter threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek several times.

“Daddy, Daddy, is this place really yours?” She asked, her green eyes wide with amazement.

Yami stared down at her, amused, “No, dear… This place is my brothers…”

Flouresce looked a little disappointed, “Oh,” she mumbled unenthusiastically, turning around. “Papa? You said that this place belonged to Daddy.”

Kaelin stood at the doorway, looking very entertained. His face lit up when his adoptive daughter turned to him and smiling patiently to her he said, “No, you’re mistaken, my darling. I never made such a bold claim. I do believe your let your imagination run wild…”

The nine year old pouted, “Not true,” she said defenseively. She returned her attention back to her demonic father and about climbed into his arms, resting her head against Yami’s shoulder. “Daddy?” she ventured softly, somewhat gloomily, “Why did you go and run off without telling me or Papa?”

“Yes,” Kaelin said softly, his lavender eyes suddenly seemed very soft, betrayed. “Why did you leave so suddenly?”

Yami felt a tightening in his chest and he reached up to pull his daughter a little closer. He fought to keep his voice from trembling. “…If you think I was abandoning you, you’re mistaken.” He struggled to find the right words. He sighed shakily, running his fingers through his daughters crimson curls. Her hair reminded him suddenly of— “My father has died.”

Kaelin gave a horrified gasp, one hand moving to cover his mouth. He looked startled, anguished actually. “Oh, honey… I’m… I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

“Kaelin… it’s…” Yami hesitated. How could he tell anyone that he was actually happy his father was dead?

Mythica seemed to take his hesitation as the beginning of an emotional breakdown. She stood up and guided her nine-year-old niece away from her brother-in-law. “You’re Flouresce, right?”

“Yep!” the girl said, smiling up at the pretty woman. Obviously the little girl was not picking up on the strained emotions choking the room. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Mythica. I’m your aunt.” She leaned over, hands on her knees and smiled charmingly at the little girl. “Why don’t I show you the Royal Garden? Your parents are probably going to be doing kissy mushy stuff and that’s no good.”

Flouresce made a disgusted face. “Ewwww. Yeah, let’s go!”

Then like that, the couple was left alone. Yami had a sudden respect for his sister-in-law. Though a human, she seemed to actually have a heart. It was something he found rare among their kind.

Kaelin continued to stand silently at the doorway. His heart was pounding furiously in his chest and tears were in his eyes. Yami had never spoken much about his family, but being close to his own father, Kaelin couldn’t help but transfer his own emotions to his fiancé’s. He could only imagine the pain Yami was feeling inside. And Yami being a rather stoic man, the pain was probably becoming overwhelming.

Biting his lip Kaelin cautiously made his way over to the demons side. He knelt before him and gently reached around him to pull him into a hug. “Honey, I’m…so sorry,” he choked out. Absently Yami reached out to run his fingers through his loves golden bangs, guiding him away so he could admire the other. He was so beautiful… even when he was crying.

Crying?

Yami jolted in surprise. Why was Kaelin crying?

“Don’t…” The prince said sounding perturbed as he gently wiped away the monks’ warm tears. Yami found his hands shaking as he did.

“I’m sorry…I just feel so badly… If I had known…” Kaelin dropped his eyes guilty, doing his best to not fall apart on his fiancé. Yami was the one that needed the comforting. Kaelin would have to suppress his guilty conscience until later. “I should have trusted you… I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“…Don’t apologize. You had every right to come after me…” Yami lifted the elf’s chin and gently kissed his forehead. “I don’t deserve you, you know…” He said suddenly, thinking back to his sister-in-laws painful truth.

Kaelin’s brow creased with confusion and he shook his head slightly, “…What?”

“…I don’t deserve you,” Yami said again, this time a little louder.

“I didn’t mishear you.” Kaelin replied sharply, he shifted his feet under him and tilting his head he ran one hand over the others cheek gently. “I don’t know why you would think that, Yami… I can’t even imagine being without you anymore…” With his beautiful and elegant hands he pulled his companion into a soft kiss, as if trying to prove that their love was most geninue. “I think you’re just confusing your feelings since you’re upset over you fathers death.”

“Am I?” Yami asked, sounding sardonic.

Kaelin hesitated. He knew that tone. “…You’re not upset, are you?”

“No.”

The blond hesitated again. “…Why?”

“My father hated me.”

Kaelin clicked his tongue in denial, “I think you’re being a little cynical...”

Yami leaned forward so that their eyes were only a few inches apart and very softly, he said again, “My father hated me.”

Kaelin glanced away uncomfortably. “…Are you sure?”

“Mummy, why does Daddy hate me?” Yami asked as he tilted his head up at his mother. Startled, the beautiful and delicate queen looked down at the six-year old prince of which the vast majority of Aurorian citizens didn’t even know existed.

“D-Daddy… Doesn’t hate you, honey…” she said unconvincingly. She smiled at him and ran her fingers through his soft black locks. “Don’t you worry about what Daddy thinks…” she whispered gently, and tears began to well in her eyes. Suddenly she pulled her son into a tight and desperate embrace, “I love you, Yami. That’s all that matters. Mummy loves you… Mummy loves you so much.” She began to sob, stroking her son’ hair over and over. Her tears were wet… warm… It made Yami’s heart hurt.

“Mummy…don’t cry…” the boy said, his brow furrowing. He hugged her tightly back, and she began to weep harder. He could feel her trying to catch her breath between each shuddering sob. “Mummy?”

”You love your mother, don’t you, Yami? You love me, right?”

“Yes, Mum! Of course I love you!” the little boy cried back. He felt terrified that she had to even ask that. Of course he loved her!

Shrain pushed Yami away to arms length, and her face was streaked with tears. She smiled that gorgeous, lovely bright smile of hers. Yami blinked up at his mother, innocent, naïve. His mother choked on her next words as she stroked his hair lovingly, “Mummy will always love you, Yami. Don’t you ever forget that—“

“Yami? Yami, are you all right?”

Yami blinked several times, and then looked at the blond. It took Yami a moment to realize he was lying on the floor. Kaelin was hovering worriedly over him. “…Kaelin?” he asked, rather confused.

“You just… passed out…” Kaelin said sounding alarmed. “I thought you were trying to hug me, but then I realized you were a little less enthusiastic than usual…” The monk laughed faintly, brushing a few stray strands of hair from Yami’s pale face. “…You were talking to your mother…” The elf said softly, hesitantly.

Yami flinched, looking ashamed. He turned his face away, but it was hard to look nonchalant when he was lying on the floor with the tall blond kneeling over him attentively. The prince was silent for a long time. “Whenever I asked my mother why my father hated me so much, she would cry. So I eventually stopped asking about it. I didn’t like to see her cry.”

Kaelin studied Yami’s face for a moment and could only see a painful past—a past that Kaelin hoped Yami would eventually open up to him about. Sighing softly Kaelin helped the prince into a sitting position. Kaelin was silent as he stared at the demon. Yami was hunched forward, holding himself in an almost pathetic gesture of solace. He looked miserable, perhaps plagued with disturbing and unhappy memories of his childhood. Kaelin reached out to pull the other man into his arms.

Of course, Yami didn’t resist. He let himself fall limply into Kaelin’s surprisingly strong arms. His head rested against the monks chest and feeling a little cliché, the demon searched for the mans heartbeat… He could feel it, more so than actually hear it… It was comforting. It made him happy to know that he would always have the other there.

“Will you go to your fathers’ funeral?” Kaelin asked softly, stroking Yami’s dark-hair gently. Yami closed his eyes, trying not to think of how his mother had comforted him in the same way.

“…Yes.” Yami said after a moment.

And for the life of him, he didn’t know why.


~*~


He felt sick, nauseas, as he watched his fathers’ casket being carried down the pathway to its burial sight. Yami swooned slightly, nearly unnoticeably. However, beside him, Ankei glanced at him. Yami didn’t reply to his questioned, concerned look. After being ignored, Ankei returned his attention to the ceremony. Their father’s casket was being lowered very slowly into the grave as a Priest began uttering soft, melancholic prayers.

The flowers… Yami could smell the flowers… Their overbearing sweetness was making him feel all the more nauseous, dizzy.

So many things began to happen then and Yami found himself having trouble focusing. Everything kept fading in and out, the present and past kept weaving together, confusing, disturbing…


“Why can’t you just love him!?” Shrain screamed, “Why can’t you forgive your son for something he had no control over? It’s me you should hate! Me!” She reached out to shake her husband violently. His head was dropped—perhaps guiltily? He was silent. “You say nothing!” The woman continued, vivid with anger. She released him and he turned his face away, mouth tight with unspoken hatred for the boy they always seemed to fight about. “What is it about Yami that you hate so much?”

“Everything,” The king said, raising his eyes to meet his wife’s brilliant green orbs. She was part demon… yet, her eyes were green. Why couldn’t Yami have been the same way? Why couldn’t he have been like Ankei? Devoid of those disgusting dishonorable demon traits… Why did that bastard child have to so blatantly ruin the Starboon pure-blood lineage?

“Everything?” Shrain asked, her voice sounded spent, disgusted. “Everything is wrong with him? What has he ever done that was ever harmful?” Her husband didn’t reply. “Nothing!” She continued, enraged, “He’s done nothing wrong to you, to your family, to this kingdom.” She spat the words out like poison. Kitisrumi flinched. “Why can you not hold that boy in your arms and love him? You love Ankei, why can’t you love Yami too?”

Kitisrumi looked positively offended. “Ankei is nothing like Yami.”

Yami pulled his ear away from the door, dropping his eyes to the floor. He reached out, sadly, absently, to touch the bouquet of freshly picked flowers on the dresser outside of his parents room.

So it was true… His father really did hate him.

Yami did swoon this time and very noticeably. A startled murmur erupted from the crowd behind him. Ankei had his arm around his little brother and he was saying something, but Yami couldn’t quite understand him. His head was spinning, he felt flushed, like he was on fire. It was growing harder and harder to breathe…

“Get out!” Kitisrumi screamed, taking several furious steps towards his short, pale, delicate son. Yami stood his ground, staring defiantly into those enraged cerulean eyes. If only his eyes had been that same color… “Leave this place, you wretch, and don’t you ever come back.” The kings’ voice shook with rage and his voice was terrifyingly deadly. “I officially declare you, Yami Sephira Starboon, stripped of your title as Prince of Aurora and cast into exile.”

Yami stared silently for a moment, blinking blankly. “You’ve always hated me,” the ex-Prince said softly, his gaze even. Kitisrumi’s face twisted in a look of agony and rage. It made Yami laughed, “You’re pathetic.”

Unable to control himself any longer, the king reeled back his fist and shot it forth. Years and years of torture and disappoint were behind that curled fist and when it connected, it connected solidly. The force behind it was so fierce it knocked Yami to the ground. Shaking slightly, the ex-prince pushed himself up into a sitting position, refusing to meet his father’s gaze. He said nothing more.

“Get him out of my sight,.” The king hissed. Yami let out a soft laugh and closed his eyes, trying to ignore how violently the guards jarred him to his feet and dragged him unkindly from the castle. Yami briefly wondered if he would see his mother and brother again.

“Yami?”

It was Ankei, he was cradling him, staring worriedly down into his brothers sweating, trembling and disoriented face. “Yami…?”

Yami made an effort to speak, but it was nothing more than a soft pathetic noise.

There was something else… something else he was subconsciously trying to remember… What was it?

He was crying… Sitting in an abandoned hallway, his knees pulled into his chest sobbing. Even if the maids or butlers saw him, they wouldn’t do anything. He was to be treated like he wasn’t there. As if he didn’t exist.

No one cared that the child was crying.

Yami heard footsteps approaching him, but he ignored them. They were going to just walk by anyways, ignoring him. It didn’t matter.

“Yami…”

The prince stiffened. He recognized that voice… His crimson eyes lifted tentatively… first staring at the man’s feet and then slowly rose to meet his father’s eyes. They were distant… almost as if he wasn’t really seeing.

It was in that very moment that Yami realized his father was not scowling at him.

“…” The boy didn’t reply and instead glanced away, biting his lip. Was this his chance? His chance to ask everything? To demand why his father hated him so much?

“Why do you cry, my son?” Kitisrumi said softly, crouching down next to him. Yami looked at him, startled.

What was going on? This must be a dream.

Yami continued to stare, blinking several times up at his father’s gently kind face. The man continued to smile—that smile he only reserved for Ankei… The man reached out to flick away Yami’s tears. The boy only continued to stare, his mouth moving silently.

“Your hair is getting long.” The king said, fingering a lock of the boys shoulder length achromatic hair, “It’s pretty.”

“…” Yami looked away. This was strange… so strange…

“It’s pretty early still, Yami. Can you not sleep? It’s no good that a growing boy is suffering from insomnia.”

Yami pursed his lips. This really was a dream… wasn’t it? But even so… He had to know.

“Father?”

“Hmm?” The man stopped running his fingers through his sons hair and looked at him, a little surprised.

“Why do you hate me?”

Kitisrumi let out a long, tired sigh. He gestured to the wall next to his son, “May I?”

Yami felt silly that his father was asking if he could sit down in his own castle, but, nonetheless, the boy nodded. Kitisrumi grunted as he sat next to him, wrapping his hands around one upraised knee while the other stretched out lazily. He let out a tired sigh.

“…You’re not yourself, are you?” Yami asked, risking a glance towards his father.

“…You could say that.” Kitisrumi replied softly. He smiled at the boy. “A lot of things are happening in here.” He tapped his temple. “A lot of things I can’t control. It’s a little frightening.”

“…It’s making you hate me?”

Kitisrumi seemed to struggle for a minute. “I know it’s not fair,” he said plainly. “But… I can’t help it. Your voice, your face, your eyes… it triggers this madness in my mind that I can’t control.”

“…Why?”

“…I don’t know.” His father sighed loudly, and then rested his head against the wall staring up at the high ceiling. “Ever since I was a child… I have always been told about those heinous devilish demons… Creatures that would tear a village apart for no reason except to quench their own insatiable need for blood…If I were to ever associate with such creatures, I would bring disgrace to this family. To the Starboons…” His voice was shaking, “If I ever did anything like that then I was no better than those terrible creatures that had killed so many of my people during the War... I would bring so much dishonor to my family… Such my disgrace.”

“That’s what I am?” Yami said, wringing his hands together. “I’m that disgrace.”

Kitisrumi hesitated. “…To be blunt… Yes…”

Yami dropped his head, his hair falling across his pale face. A habit he would continue even as an adult.

“…I’m not well, Yami. I’m not myself when I see you.” Kitisrumi was struggling to speak evenly. “Even now… I feel so distant… Like I have to suppress all these uncontrollable, terrible feelings… Feelings that make me want to yell at you, to hate you, to hurt you…” The man chuckled, but it was mirthless. “…I’m dying, Yami. My mental health is failing me.”

“…Do you really think that?” The eight year old said. Their eyes met, and Kitisrumi shuddered terribly at the crimson orbs and looked away. “…Or are you just saying that to make yourself feel better? Why am I such a disgrace to you?”

“Your eyes…” The king said softly.

“…They’re red,” Yami finished matter-of-factly.

“Like a demons,” Kitisrumi continued. Shaking he covered his face with his hands. “You don’t understand, Yami… Since the beginning of time, our family has been pure blood Elves…”

“What difference does it make?”

Kitisrumi was laughing again. The sound made Yami shivered. It was the laughter of a madman.

“All the difference.” Kitisrumi said, though his voice was no longer warm and friendly. “All the difference in the world.” He raised his eyes and turned lifting his hand up. Yami stared and watched as his father’s fingers wrapped about his throat, gently though, as if hesitating. Yami, however, didn’t struggle.

Maybe it was for the best?

Kitisrumi hesitated still, shaking, squeezing ever so tightly against the boys throat. Their blue and crimson eyes bore into each other. The Kings eyes were mad, malevolent with insanity. Yami’s were almost understanding, accepting…

How could an eight year old accept death?

With much effort Kitisrumi uncoiled his fingers from his sons’ throat and fell away, shaking tremendously. Yami watched him silently. The king turned his terrible, agonized face to him. He looked like he was struggling internally with himself.

“…Just stay away from me,” he said, his voice choked. “Don’t ever come near me again.”

Then the King of Aurora struggled to his feet, and using the wall as support stumbled away. Yami watched him until he disappeared around the corner. The eight year old lifted his hands to stare silently at it.

He really was just invisible.

Yami jolted awake, gasping for air, his eyes wild and terrified. This wasn’t the cemetery... This wasn’t even outside. He was in a bed… there was a glass of water on the nightstand… Shaking, Yami grabbed the cup and drained it, though it was room temperature and did nothing to quench his thirst. Yami glanced around and squinted at his surroundings.

It was his old room.

Yami laughed, softly, sadly and stared at the empty glass that he turned in his palms. So many memories in this room…

Trying to distract himself from his lonely childhood he glanced around, wondering how long it had been since he had been taken here. Minutes, hours, days even? Yami shuddered, and fell back into the bed, running his hand over his aching eyes.

That… memory… He had suppressed it for years… The moment his father had walked away, abandoning him. Yami had willed himself to forget everything that had happened in those few minutes—the few minutes when his father had teased him with the false hope and unrequited love.

Yami sighed softly, blindly feeling around for the nightstand and set the empty glass there. After lying there with one hand covering his eyes for a long time, the demon began to grow a little more conscious of his surroundings. He turned his head curiously and one eye opened to stare at his brother who was sitting silently in an uncomfortable looking wooden chair by his old writing desk. It was hard to see him in the poor light, but Yami could tell he was looking at him.

“…How long have I been out?” Yami asked his brother.

Ankei continued to stare very quietly. When he spoke, his voice was tired. “Over half a day.”

Yami sighed. “…What happened?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Ankei replied somewhat sarcastically. Yami glared at him. Ankei glared back. “What’s wrong with you?” The elf asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know.” Yami replied flatly, crossing his arms over the thin blanket covering him. He briefly thought of smelling it to see if it still smelled like lavender, but he pushed that silly thought away. What did he care about his old room?

“Kaelin said the same thing happened earlier. Why didn’t you see a doctor?”

“Kaelin is a doctor. So am I, if you’ve forgotten.”

Ankei snorted, scowling darkly. “…You were talking in your sleep.”

Yami didn’t reply at first. He just tried to stay calm, tried to not look flustered or upset. He kept his voice in a tone that sounded disinterested, “Oh? What did I say?”

“‘I want to die’.”

Yami blinked, a little startled and looked at his brother. Was that why he was so upset? It took a great amount of effort for Yami to let out a little, ’Oh’ of indifference.

“…Among other things,” Ankei continued with suppressed anger.

“…Like?”

“You kept saying you were sorry.”

Yami cleared his throat uncomfortably, “…Yeah? Hmm…”

“…Is there anything you want to tell me?” Ankei asked, glaring through the darkness.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Yami frowned at his brother, genuinely annoyed, “What the Hells is your problem?”

“Just worried sick, that’s all. No big deal.” Ankei stood up and marched angrily towards his brother. Yami flinched backed, eying the other almost like he expected to be slapped. Had Ankei known that his wife had slapped Yami not once, but twice, he may have not been as disturbed by his brothers behavior. “Don’t do that...” Ankei said softly, painfully. Yami made an effort to recompose himself, but he still looked uneasy. “Look… I’m sorry. Okay? Just… don’t… do anything stupid…” Ankei said, “I don’t know if I could handle it… You passing out is about as much as I can take…” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back his head. Yami stared. Ankei flushed, glancing about uneasily. His little brother had the most uncomfortable stare. “…Um… can I get you anything?” he asked tentatively, trying to deflect his brother’s silent inquisition.

Yami glanced at his empty glass, grabbed it and held it up, blinking innocently. “Can I have some more water?”

Ankei chuckled softly, and took the glass, patting his little brother on the head, “Yeah, no problem.” Ankei glanced over his shoulder at his brother, lifting up the empty glass, “Great… how you’ve got the King of Aurora getting you a glass of water and all.”

Yami laughed, and shrugged. “I must just be that pleasant.”

Ankei grinned, “Yeah. Yeah, you are.”

Yami’s smile faltered as his brother turned away.

If only he had been ‘pleasant’ enough to make people forget about his crimson eyes…

Yami sighed when the door closed and he brushed the newly forming tears from his eyes, annoyed. Why was he crying? Was it because he now realized that his father had been struggling mentally with himself the moment he, Yami, had been born? His very existence had caused his fathers mind to deteriorate… deteriorate so badly that in the end he had been nothing more than a babbling fool with a frightening amount of power.

His father had become a very sad, pitiful man. No wonder he had been assassinated.

Yami sighed again, harshly, rubbing his face fiercely with both hands. He had to snap out of this… this… ludicrous feeling of… of… sadness? Yami stopped rubbing his face, startled. Was he really upset that his father had died?

Yami gnawed at his lip.

He was… wasn’t he?

His father had showed him kindness… had apologized for everything… but at the same time, that had been the moment when he had truly abandoned him…

Yami felt his stomach twisting with nausea again and he twitched, covering his mouth and sitting up… The guilt and shame he felt was so overwhelming, it was literally causing his head to spin. He felt like he had just spent the last five minutes spinning wildly in a circle.

And then, it was strange and awkward for both Ankei and Yami… Just as Ankei opened the door, smiling brightly, he witnessed his brother retching over the side of the bed into a nearby waste bin that had (quite thankfully) still been near the nightstand. Yami made am abominable, disgruntled noise and then glanced half-heartedly at the door, now noticing his brother.

There was a silence.

“That’s sooo gross,” Ankei cringed.

“Screw you, asshole.”

“What, are you pregnant or something?”

“Shut up, you idiot—“ Yami began angrily, but before he could continue, his face faltered. He twitched violently again then, grabbed the wastebasket, and heaved the rest of his dignity into it. Ankei continued to make disgusted faces.

“Are you going to die?” The king asked, edging towards him.

“I hate you so much sometimes,” Yami muttered, blanching as he wiped his mouth. “Go get Kaelin.”

“Gross…” Ankei said again, cautiously setting the glass of water on the nightstand and backing away. “Are you sick, or something?”

Yami gave him a how-the-hell-should-I-know look.

“Right… I’ll go get Kaelin.”

Yami dropped his face into his hands miserably. His stomach twisted painfully again, and he thought he was going to retch again, but he fought against the nausea… His chest hurt, but it wasn’t painful to breathe, not like before… What was this feeling… It was… It was guilt? Wasn’t it? He had felt the same way when his mother had died…

Yami raised his head slowly, feeling sudden horror gripping him. Though… when his mother had died he had momentarily lost his sanity and had killed an entire town worth of innocent people…. Including his daughters’ real parents… He doubted if he could ever tell her the truth.

Yami shuddered. Though, it wouldn’t be like that anymore. He had Kaelin. Kaelin had given him a remedy that would neutralize his chemical imbalance and keep him from those terrible black outs…

So… instead of killing dozens of innocent people…

Yami lurched forward again, covering his mouth as he searched blindly for the waste bin…

…He would be plagued with this horrible feeling of guilt and shame.

Yami made a disgusted face as he sat back letting out a harsh sigh. He felt disgusting and overheated. But that horrible feeling in his chest was the most uncomfortable.

/How positively wonderful./ The demon thought, grunting as he leaned back against the bedpost. The door opened again and he looked towards it to see Kaelin hurrying towards him.

“How do you feel?” The man asked.

“Delightful,” Yami replied sarcastically.

Kaelin made a face at him as he continued to check him over. He put his palm over the others forehead. Yami closed his eyes, relishing the feel of Kaelin’s gentle hands. “…You don’t have a temperature.”

“…No, I imagine not,” came Yami’s distracted reply. Such… gentle hands…

Kaelin paused, and then slowly removed his hand. Yami reluctantly opened his eyes to look at the other. “Would you like to tell me what’s really going on?” The monk asked softly.

“I’m sick with guilt,” Yami replied flatly, scowling a little. He glanced around Kaelin, but it was only the monk who had arrived. “Where’d Ankei go?”

Kaelin chuckled, “He was a little green in the face when he told me you were throwing up… When I asked him if he wanted to come back with me, he made up so nonsense about needing to take the twins out for fresh air. It… was kind of cute.” Kaelin sighed softly, and then noticed that the demon had managed to get a little bit of his sick into his hair. “…Maybe you should shower, dear?” Kaelin suggested gently.

“I don’t have the strength,” Yami sighed, hunching forward. He mumbled.

“Pardon, dear?”

“…Wash me?”

Kaelin pursed his lips, trying not to smile. It was purely innocent, Kaelin knew. Especially since Kaelin had expressed his ‘no-sex-before-marriage’ beliefs to the prince… and, however reluctantly, Yami had agreed… To be quite honest, Kaelin was, by all retrospect, a virgin. Kaelin coughed into his hand, still a little flushed with embarrassment. “…Are you sure…?” He questioned at length.

Yami looked at him, “What?”

“…If you’re sure.”

“…What are you implying?”

“…You know my beliefs…”

Yami made a face, “Do I look,” he pointed at his ragged, miserable state menacingly, “Like I want to take advantage of a pure, sweet, innocent monk?”

Kaelin coughed into his hand again. “…You never know…” Yami sighed heavily. “I’m just kidding, Yami! Of course I’ll do it.” He leaned forward and kissed the man urgently on the lips.

Yami looked startled, and a bit disgusted. “You know I was just heaving up my own sick, right?”

Kaelin made a face, “I just thought of that when I kissed you.”

Yami laughed softly, feeling a little lighter in the chest… Kaelin smiled down at him and kissed his forehead before reaching down to lift his smaller companion into his arms.

Yami sighed softly, content.

Kaelin always made everything better.

[Ramirez]



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