Title: Till Death Do Us Part
Pairing: Keita/Ryuichi
Author: venenatus.venustas
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
Warnings: So much crack.
Summary: In an ancient world reigned by a woman, Ryuichi is nothing more than the Queen’s brother, locked up in the palace and waiting for an appointed marriage. What happens when the Queen finally decides on a match for him?

Continued from: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: I'm going to Phuket for a week!!! So this part is uber-short in my rush to get it done before I go. :p



O.o o.O

When he was absolutely sure that Ryuichi was dead asleep, Keita forced himself to sit up, body chilling almost immediately at the loss of Ryuichi’s hot skin pressed against him. He didn’t want even the possibility of Ryuichi waking up before him and removing his mask – it wasn’t that Keita didn’t trust Ryuichi, he just knew Ryuichi too well.

He knew, also, that if Ryuichi discovered his real identity, Ryuichi would be torn between his love for the Keita that he used to be and his disgust for the disfigured man that his beloved Keita had become.

Keita felt a rush of self-loathing as he pulled his robes straight and searched for his shoes, which he had kicked off sometime between warning Ryuichi and pouncing on him.

“My lord?” Ryuichi mumbled groggily.

Shit. Shit, shit, fuck, shit.

But it was dark, so maybe Ryuichi wouldn’t see, and so Keita froze, crouched with a shoe in his hand.

“My lord? Is that you?” Ryuichi sat up, rubbing his eyes. “It is you,” he said, and Keita winced at how angry Ryuichi sounded. “What are you doing?”

Keita straightened. “Dressing.”

“Why?” Ryuichi demanded, and suddenly the room was illuminated as he lit the candle on the bedside table. He was still naked, and Keita felt a twinge in his belly at the sight of his wife, looking thoroughly debauched – hair a mess and naked skin shimmering gold in the candlelight, rumpled sheets twisted around his hips. But then the twinge turned to dread as Ryuichi reached over to pull his gown from the floor where it had dropped, draping it over his body as he slid out of bed and took a step towards Keita. “My lord, why can’t you stay here?”

Keita took a step back.

“Or is it that you won’t?” Ryuichi asked, and Keita’s lips tightened.

“That is certainly not the issue at hand,” he said.

“Of course not,” Ryuichi replied.

“This is not a matter up for discussion either,” Keita said firmly.

Ryuichi kept looking at him with those huge eyes of his, dewy and shining in the dim light, a small frown creasing his brow as if wondering how Keita could possibly not want to spend the night by his side.

But when comprehension dawned on those same eyes, Keita knew with a sinking feeling that Ryuichi knew exactly why. It was not that hard for Ryuichi to arrive at the logical conclusion after all, especially with someone of his intellect.

“You don’t trust me to sleep next to you,” Ryuichi said, and his face crumpled as he glowered at Keita, angry tears going to fill his eyes. “What are you so afraid of showing me? Why are so afraid of me?”

“That is none of your business!” Keita shouted, his anger surprising himself as well as Ryuichi, who jerked, but collected himself quickly and took another step closer.

“Show me,” Ryuichi hissed. “Show me your face.”

Keita thought his heart stopped beating in his chest. “No.” He couldn’t even hear his own voice; it was as if he had gone deaf.

“Show me!” Ryuichi said in his most commanding tone, looking every inch the prince he was as he pointed at Keita.

“It’s none of your business!” Keita shouted again, whirling to head for Ryuichi’s bedroom door, but Ryuichi moved too quickly, darting in front of him to block his path, pouncing on him, fingers curling around the edges of Keita’s mask and tugging.

Fear shot through Keita as his hand went to his mask automatically; Ryuichi had only loosened it slightly, not nearly enough for it to slip out of place, but the threat of it had been enough for Keita to shove Ryuichi roughly so that he fell to the floor.

The fall had barely deterred Ryuichi, however, who jumped up immediately and punched Keita in the face, causing him to stumble a few steps, hand still over his precious mask.

“Why won’t you show me?” Ryuichi yelled at him, panting, out of breath, and Keita somehow managed to growl, “No,” when Ryuichi came at him again, grabbing and grabbing, pulling Keita’s hair and trying to search for the ties that held the mask in place.

Keita tried to fling Ryuichi off him with one hand, the other still over his ruined face, the reassuring touch of his leather mask under his fingertips, but Ryuichi kneed him in the stomach, right under his ribs, and Keita gasped as he fell forward, the wind knocked out of him completely, but even as he caught himself with his free hand, Ryuichi was grappling with him again, surprisingly strong for someone so much smaller than Keita.

“Get off me!” Keita hollered, when Ryuichi’s fingernails scratched four painful lines down the back of his neck as he tried to grab at the criss-crossing ribbons that threaded through Keita’s shaggy hair, styled to camouflage the strips of black satin.

“Show me!” Ryuichi screamed, and then there were arms and legs everywhere as Keita fought Ryuichi, rolling back and forth on the floor as he tried to throw him off and keep his mask on all at the same time.

When Keita felt the rush of cool air against his face, when he heard Ryuichi gasp and jerk away from him, he knew it was all over. He shoved Ryuichi away, forcing himself to his feet, turning his back to Ryuichi, who was still on the floor.

“No,” Ryuichi whispered. “No.” Keita could hear the tears in his voice.

“Are you happy now?” Keita said softly.

“No,” Ryuichi whispered. “It’s not you. You’re not him.”

“Are you fucking happy now?” Keita shouted, whirling around, ignoring the jab to his heart when Ryuichi recoiled at the sight of him. “You wanted to see my face so badly, is this what you wanted to see?” He pointed at his face, leaning down to Ryuichi, who turned away, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing. “The rumours about me weren’t enough to satisfy your curiosity? You had to see for yourself what a monster your husband is? What a freak show I’ve become?”

“You’re not him,” Ryuichi repeated pathetically, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as Keita grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet.

“Aren’t you going to look at me?” Keita shouted, shaking Ryuichi, and Ryuichi shook his head. “Look at me!”

“Please, no!” Ryuichi cried.

“Look at me!” Keita screamed, and Ryuichi was sobbing, sobbing as he opened his eyes and saw Keita glaring back at him.

“Keita,” he whimpered, reaching up with both hands. “Keita…”

“Is this what you wanted to see?” Keita demanded, giving Ryuichi another hard shake, and Ryuichi still shook his head, long locks of hair clinging to the sides of his face as tears continued to stream, covering his flushed cheeks in shining wet tracks.

“I just wanted to know who you are. Oh, Keita…god, Keita…” Ryuichi’s hands were trembling as they continued to hover just in front of Keita’s face.

“Keita’s dead,” Keita spat out, pushing Ryuichi away and whirling, dipping slightly to scoop his mask off the floor and fix it back over his face as he flung the double doors open and strode out.

He could still hear Ryuichi’s soft sobs as he slammed the door to Ryuichi’s suite behind him.

O.o o.O

It was barely dawn when Mori, patrolling the corridors of the manor for his shift, found the mistress wandering around, barefoot and lost, gown loosely knotted and falling off his shoulders, and tears seeping from red, puffy eyes.

He didn’t greet the mistress as he should have, but rather froze on the spot and stared as the mistress turned around and saw him.

“Mori,” he said.

“Mistress,” Mori said finally.

“Where are the master’s rooms?” Mistress asked, and Mori hesitated, though he knew it didn’t show on his expressionless face. He looked down at his mistress, who sniffled and held back a sob as he swiped at the tears on his face with his sleeve, and Mori thought that his mistress looked so very young, especially with how small he was up close; Mori had really only seen the mistress next to his attendants and wearing the elevated slippers allowed only for royalty.

Something must have happened tonight, something between the master and mistress, and Mori wasn’t sure if his master wanted to see the mistress at all. Master had returned to his bedroom almost two hours ago, seething, and Mori and Honey had wisely stayed out of his warpath as he locked himself into his bedroom.

“I can’t find it,” the mistress said in a small voice, and Mori blinked, not quite sure what to do. “I can’t find his rooms. Where does the master sleep? Where is he now?”

“Master is in his rooms,” Mori answered.

“Take me,” the mistress ordered, and Mori hesitated again.

But he still complied, bowing deeply to the mistress as he offered his arm, on top of which the mistress laid his trembling hand.

Mori led his mistress silently through the corridors of the manor, until they came to the double doors of his master’s suite.

Still unsure of whether he did the right thing or not, Mori gave a deep bow, and melted back into the shadows.

O.o o.O

“Keita?” Ryuichi whispered, tiptoeing across the room. “Keita?” Hikaru and Kaoru had led him here earlier in the night, and if Ryuichi remembered correctly, it was the door on the right.

He creaked the door open, peeking around it into the dark room. The curtains were drawn, leaving thin strips of pale blue-grey light on the floor, and Ryuichi had to look twice before he realised his husband was sitting on the edge of the large bed, a mirror in one hand.

Ryuichi watched Keita stare at his masked reflection, unable to conciliate his memory of Keita with the man in front of him now. He wanted to run over, to hold Keita in his arms and tell him his feelings had never changed, not even after all these years, but he knew that it was a lie, and he knew that Keita knew it was a lie. At the same time, Ryuichi wanted to embrace his husband, to tell him that he loved him, but he knew his husband would not believe him because it wasn’t true, not really.

When Keita set the mirror down at his side, holding his face in his hand, Ryuichi was startled out of his thoughts and turned, new tears blurring his vision as he slipped away from the door and out of his husband’s suite.

O.o o.O

“What the hell is this?” Manami tossed the parchment to her desk, and Ryohei fanned Manami frantically with the ostrich feather, not quite sure how to answer. “How did this become such a mess? Ryohei!” she barked, and Ryohei swallowed hard.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he answered demurely.

“Why is the White Lord writing to me, asking for a divorce? How dare he ask for a divorce from my brother, the only prince of this realm, and one of the brightest jewels of my kingdom? I entrusted my brother to him, and now he is asking for a divorce?”

Ryohei remained silent.

“What news do you have from their household?” Manami demanded.

Ryohei cringed, and tried not to let it show. “None, Your Majesty,” he said tentatively.

Manami arched an eyebrow, but did not otherwise reply.

“There have been no letters from either the prince or the White Lord. I…do not know what possibly could have happened.” Ryohei curtsied deeply, bowing his head low.

“Does the White Lord not have business to attend to in town?”

“He’s been conducting his business by correspondence, Your Majesty,” Ryohei said. “I’ve tried to contact him as well.”

“Find out what this is all about, and fix it,” Manami ordered. “I will not have Ryuichi disrespected in this way. Go. And tell the White Lord that he should be prepared to forfeit his life if he is so determined to forfeit his marriage to my brother.”

Ryohei’s heart gave a dull thump of fear. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

O.o o.O

“Master,” Honey said softly. “Would you like me to draw the curtains?”

“Keep them closed.”

“Yes, Master.” Honey and Mori exchanged a look. “Master, you have a guest. The His Grace Lady Ryohei has arrived from the palace.”

“Ah,” the Master said dully. “So I see they’ve received my letter.”

“He is requesting audience, Master.”

“Send him in.”

“Here, Master?”

Honey could see the shadow of his master turning away from him behind the drapes of his bed.

“Yes.”

O.o o.O

“She’s ready to have your head for this,” Ryohei said tightly. “No matter what happened…you must write to the Queen and ask for her forgiveness.”

“I am as good as dead,” Keita said, and flung his arm to the side where he lay on his bed.

Ryohei stood stiffly to the side, ignoring the chair that had been placed there for him. “Well you’re not dead yet,” said Ryohei in clipped tones, “so stop being so melodramatic. Do you even remember what you lived for in the first place?”

Keita gave a dull laugh. “For him.”

“And you have him now. So why push it all away? One would think that you’re purposely denying yourself the chance for happiness.”

“Perhaps,” Keita said. “And perhaps it is because you didn’t see the look on his face when it happened.”

Ryohei pursed his lips. “Does he know you want to divorce him?”

“Who cares?” Keita asked, shrugging. “Maybe one of his servants heard it through the grapevine and decided to tell him. I don’t know. He’s locked himself in his suite ever since, you know.”

“As have you,” Ryohei pointed out bluntly.

“He obviously wants nothing to do with me,” Keita said, turning over onto his side.

“He could very well be thinking the same thing about you,” Ryohei said.

Keita rolled over again, and glared at Ryohei from behind the security of his mask. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m not here to help,” Ryohei retorted. “I’m here to make sure you don’t make the biggest mistake of your life.”

“You’re not going to change my mind.”

“Then you’re willing to die for this? You have to keep in mind that this divorce will mean your death sentence. You’re not going to be watching from afar this time. You won’t be doing any watching at all, and you won’t be able to protect him, either literally or politically. Are you so prepared to leave him like this, all alone for the rest of his life?”

“What would you have me do then?” Keita asked, sitting up and glaring up at Ryohei. “What would you have me do that could possibly make this situation any better? I would give my life for him. Even if it’s for something as trivial as releasing him from a marriage he is obviously not going to be happy in. He deserves more.”

“But he wants you,” Ryohei said, wanting to stamp his foot in frustration, just barely managing to retain his poise.

“He wants Keita Tachibana. I haven’t been him for a long time,” Keita said wearily, touching his fingertips to his mask, where his cheekbone would be.

“You’re still you!” Ryohei exclaimed. “Who hasn’t changed these five years? Who wouldn’t have changed in five years? Just because you buried Tachibana and took on a new title and hid your face behind a mask doesn’t make you a new person! You still have the memories, the feelings, the – the…” Ryohei’s tirade dropped off, as if suddenly run out of steam.

Keita was silent.

“How could you be so cruel as to push him away? When you know full well how he pined for you all this time. How can you stand to hurt him like this, and still claim to love him?”

And still, Keita had no answer.

O.o o.O

Ryuichi was sitting in his chaise-longue, propped up with pillows and a throw covering his lap.

“Your Highness, would you care for some fruit?” Akira asked softly, barely above a whisper.

Ryuichi shook his head.

“Mistress, please. You must eat.” Hikaru knelt next to Akira offering a plate of strawberries.

“No,” Ryuichi said, turning his face away. “I heard some commotion earlier. What’s happening? Is the White Lord leaving? Is he leaving me?”

“No, Your Highness,” Akira said, stroking Ryuichi’s hand reassuringly. “There is a visitor for the lord, that is all.” He conveniently forgot to mention that the visitor was Lady Ryohei from the palace.

“Oh,” Ryuichi said, and sighed, closing his eyes. “Kaoru, have you heard any news from the servants? What is my husband…is he planning to leave me?”

Hikaru and Akira exchanged a quick look. “No, Mistress,” Hikaru answered, not even bothering to remind Ryuichi that his twin was the one that wore pink robes and he was the one in blue.

“He’s going to leave me,” Ryuichi said, and ignored the tears that slipped from the corners of his eyes. “I know he is. He hates me.”

“Master is in mourning, Mistress,” Hikaru said. “He is mourning that he caused you such heartache.”

“What am I to do now?” Ryuichi said, as if to himself, looking up at the ceiling above him. “Keita doesn’t want me. My husband abhors me. What am I going to do without Keita? I can’t live like this, Akira,” he said, and gripped Akira’s hand tightly in his. “How can I lose him again?”

“Your Highness…” Akira faltered, not quite sure what to say.

“I can’t lose him again,” Ryuichi said, blinking tears away from his eyes. “I will die if he sends me away. I will die if he leaves me.”

And somehow, both Akira and Hikaru got the feeling that Ryuichi wasn’t to be taken lightly.

O.o o.O

Part 6