chapter 4

The kiss left Ryuu breathless, as if the very air had been stolen from his lungs. A haze settled over his mind, warm and dizzying, blurring the edges of reality. The world around him faded into obscurity, dulled by the feverish touch of Kaito’s lips—lips that danced against his own with a seduction that felt far too practiced. His own tingled, sensitive and sore, as if a thorn had pricked the surface—only for that pain to unfurl into something more beautiful and terrifying, like the bloom of a thousand scarlet roses.

When Kaito finally pulled back, it was slow, deliberate, as though tearing away from something he wasn't ready to let go of. His dark brow arched, and his icy blue eyes trailed over Ryuu’s chest with calm precision, watching the erratic rhythm of each panicked breath. The rise and fall of Ryuu’s ribcage was like the beat of war drums—loud, uneven, desperate.

There, for just a fleeting second, a strange softness passed over Kaito’s face—something like a flutter, as if something in Ryuu’s fogged, amethyst eyes made the ever-cold Kaito hesitate. The faint thread of saliva that still connected their lips shimmered in the firelight—fragile, momentary—before it snapped and vanished like it had never been there at all.

And yet, the sensation of being pulled back together remained. Like magnets resisting separation, Ryuu could feel the urge clawing at him—to lean forward, to take more. But Kaito remained still. Restrained. He knew something Ryuu didn’t.

Still half-lost in the daze, Ryuu didn’t even realize when they entered the throne room. His blurred vision caught the sharp gleam of obsidian floors and the flickering shadows that lined the walls—but it wasn’t until a voice, unmistakably familiar and haunting, cut through the air like a dagger that he snapped out of it.

“Well, if Kaito didn’t bring me my former champion... and in a daze no less,” the voice taunted, layered with bitter amusement and a venomous calm that dripped like acid. The words had the sharpness of broken glass dipped in honey—mocking and cruel.

The haze vanished in an instant as Ryuu’s knees hit the cold stone floor. Kaito had lowered him gently, almost reverently, before stepping back. Ryuu found himself kneeling before the throne—a monstrous, gleaming structure of blackened steel carved with intricate patterns of serpents, wings, and fire. Behind it, two grotesque dragon heads protruded from the wall, their mouths eternally gushing molten lava into twin pools that shimmered and hissed on either side. The lava glowed with an eerie brilliance, illuminating the chamber with a hellish radiance. And in those molten pools, golden koi swam lazily—untouched by the heat, otherworldly in their defiance of nature.

This room—this cursed place—was not a sanctuary. It was a memory of pain, and both Ryuu and Kaito knew it.

Lord Yagami sat high upon the throne, his presence impossibly vast. He didn’t slouch. His posture was regal, chin tilted just so, hand resting not beneath but beside his face like a serpent coiled before striking. His hair, black as pitch and slicked back with precision, framed a face carved from marble and shadow. Twin rubies burned in his eye sockets—eyes that bore into Ryuu like a blade pressed to the soul.

His garments were elegant yet dark—steel greys and blacks that blended into the throne’s metallic hue. A sapphire ring glittered on his finger, and a thin silver chain traced from the collar of his shirt to his hip, whispering wealth and power with every breath he took.

“So, Ryuu... What does my favorite little bird have to say for himself?” Yagami’s voice echoed, velvet and venom. He didn’t lean forward. He didn’t need to. His gaze was enough to crush stone.

Ryuu inhaled, slow and trembling. The kiss had left him shaken—angry, confused—but grounded. It had stopped the spiraling panic before it could consume him. And now, facing the man whose wrath he’d spent years fearing, he forced himself to raise his chin.

“Evening, Lord Yagami,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “And we both know nothing I say will please you.”

The truth was bitter—but clean.

Yagami’s lips curled into something between a grin and a sneer. He glanced sideways at Kaito, something unspoken flickering between them like lightning in a storm. Ryuu’s stomach tightened when Kaito responded—not with words, but by stepping forward and extending his hand.

A pale blue light bloomed in Kaito’s palm, pulsing with the rhythm of a heartbeat. Water spilled out around them, cold and alive. It flooded the room quickly, stopping at Ryuu’s knees. It avoided the lava. It avoided the throne. But it did not avoid him.

The water felt like fingers—searching, testing. It pulsed in sync with his chest, coiling around his limbs, then his wings. Ryuu tried to move, but his muscles were uncooperative. Weak. Numb. The water caught him like a net, and escape was impossible.

Then, with a gesture as subtle as a blink, Kaito directed the water. It glowed white-hot, and tendrils slithered out like serpents, wrapping tightly around Ryuu’s broken wings.

“Tell me, Ryuu,” Yagami said, his voice now colder than the deepest ocean, “why shouldn’t I have your wings removed? You betrayed your kingdom. Why shouldn’t I take them from you?”

The threat was not hollow. It wasn’t even a threat—it was a test. Yagami was weighing him like a coin in the palm.

“Because... they’re not yours to take,” Ryuu replied, his tone defiant, though a tremor betrayed him. He didn’t hide it. He knew Yagami valued truth—even if he used it as a weapon.

A low hum rumbled in Yagami’s throat. “True. They weren’t mine to give when you were named one of my champions. But this kingdom wasn’t mine by blood either... and yet, I took it.”

“That’s different—” Ryuu began, but a sudden jolt surged through the tendrils on his wings. The pain was blinding. He bit down on his tongue, hard, as if the act could anchor him through the agony. He could feel Kaito’s conflicting touch—both healer and executioner. Gentle and cruel.

“It’s not different, Ryuu. Not at all,” Yagami said with serene finality. The calm before the storm.

And then the storm struck.

Like a predator uncoiling, Yagami surged forward with terrifying speed. One moment, he was upon the throne. The next, he was clutching Ryuu by the front of his shirt. In one swift motion, he lifted Ryuu with inhuman strength and slammed him into the wall behind him.

Stone cracked. Pain blossomed. Dust shivered from the impact.

Ryuu gasped—air and voice stolen as his back collided with the unforgiving wall. The room fell still, the only sound the bubbling of molten lava and the echo of his ragged breath.

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