#doooone

“I suppose… That would be alright,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi held back a sigh of relief. “Will that ease what bothered you?” At Atsushi’s eager nod, Akutagawa’s shoulders seemed to relax. “Okay.”

For the first time since he arrived at the palace, Atsushi felt a genuine smile on his lips.

Akutagawa arrived precisely when Atsushi asked, which caused the White Rabbit to scramble a little about the picnic blanket.

“I guess I’m so used to being late, I’m surprised when other people show up on time,” he laughed nervously. Akutagawa only nodded, eyeing the scene before him as if he didn’t know what quite to do. Before him, a picnic blanket had been laid out in the castle garden, surrounded by red rose bushes still dripping with paint. On the blanket, Atsushi had set multi-tiered trays filled with biscuits and cupcakes, a platter holding a strawberry cake, and a teapot with its contents still steaming from beneath its lid.

Atsushi sat down, and Akutagawa followed suit, sitting across from him on the blanket.

“How do you like your tea?” Asked Atsushi, pouring him a cup.

Crossing his legs beneath him, Akutagawa murmured. “With a tablespoon of milk. No sugar.”

Atsushi smiled little again. “Really? I have to have sugar, or it’s too bitter for me,” he said as he passed the cup and saucer to him. Akutagawa only nodded, blowing on the tea to cool it, as Atsushi said softly, “It’s rose tea. The cards said it was your favorite.”

Akutagawa nodded again, and even though the hard lines in his face relaxed somewhat when he tasted the tea, he still said nothing.

The silence between them felt tangible. Atsushi found himself fidgeting again, only nibbling idly at his biscuit while Akutagawa sampled everything.

“Sooo,” Atsushi said slowly, earning him a glance from Akutagawa. “Is there… Anything you want to talk about?”

His ears drooped a little when Akutagawa shook his head.

“No need,” he said plainly, passing his cup to Atsushi so he could fill it again. Atsushi offered a thin smile.

“But, well, we haven’t talked much since I got here, and it’s been a while,” he began. “Maybe we should get to know each other better?”

Akutagawa visibly stiffened, and Atsushi flinched so harshly that he nearly dropped the teapot.

“No,” Akutagawa snapped. Atsushi gulped. His instincts told him to run, but with shaking hands, he pushed them down. He couldn’t run from this anymore.

“Your Highness,” Atsushi said, drawing Akutagawa’s attention. Before he could correct him, Atsushi continued, “I have the right to know what I mean to you.”

Akutagawa scowled, but he drew his legs closer as if he was retreating into himself. “Get out,” he growled.

Atsushi set his jaw, trying to appear intimidating, no matter how much his tail twitched with fear. “We are out,” he said firmly. “There’s nowhere for me to go.”

“Go inside then!” Akutagawa roared, snapping his head up and staring him down with dark eyes that burned like coals.

“No!” Atsushi shouted right back. Akutagawa’s eyes widened as if no one had spoken to him that way before, or perhaps he had never expected Atsushi of all people to do so. Nevertheless, the White Rabbit held his ground. “Something’s going on, King Akutagawa! And I demand to know what it is!”

The King stared at him in stunned silence. Letting the rage fall from his eyes, from his lips, Atsushi let out a sigh.

“You can’t just push your problems away every time. Even if you’re afraid, you have to face them head on,” he murmured, looking down at his teacup. Veins of gold wove across it in unpredictable patterns. “Unlike me.”

Silence filled the air again, only broken by the far-off cries of a flamingo in the menagerie.

“What do you mean?”

Atsushi’s ears pricked. He looked up, back at Akutagawa, who watched him with something unknown in his eyes. Atsushi chuckled humorlessly.

“I mean I’m a coward, Your Highness,” he said, a sad smile on his lips. “I should’ve brought this up a long time ago, but I was scared. Terrified. I’ve always been scared of you.”

He could hear the King’s breathing, coming out slowly and hesitantly.

“If what you’ve told me is true,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi cringed immediately, squeezing his eyes shut, ready and dreading whatever punishment he would receive, “... Then you’re the bravest man I’ve ever met, Atsushi.”

Atsushi froze. He looked up at Akutagawa, wide-eyed, staring at his ruler, who looked more vulnerable than Atsushi had ever thought possible, with his knees shaking and pulled to his chest, his eyes looking down at the ground.

“I’m the coward,” he whispered almost too quietly for Atsushi to hear, his hand covering his mouth. He paused, and still shaking, he murmured again, “Leave.”

Atsushi frowned, setting his jaw. “Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, King of the Land of Hearts,” he said firmly, drawing the King’s eye, “I will not leave you. Not now, not ever.”

Akutagawa stared at him, mouth open, brows twisted in what almost appeared to be pain.

“You may have been hurt in the past,” Atsushi continued to speak, words coming to him almost without his knowledge, “and you may push me away so I don’t see your weaknesses. I get it. That’s why I run so much,” he whispered. He noticed as Akutagawa began pushing trays and platters out of the way with abandon, drawing closer to him with that same expression still on his face, but Atsushi didn’t run.

“Maybe you push people away because they hurt you, and you don’t want to get hurt again. Maybe you kill them to make sure they can’t hurt you anymore,” he said softly.

Porcelain teacups crashed and shattered as Akutagawa knocked Atsushi over, laying him flat on the blanket, his hands on either side of his head. His breath came out raggedly through his open mouth, and his dark, broken eyes looked upon Atsushi with a mix of hope and fear, swirled together into a tempest.

With a single hand, Atsushi reached up, lacing his fingers through the King’s dark hair.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered.

Gently, slowly, Atsushi rose up onto his elbow, and gently, slowly, he brought Akutagawa’s lips down to meet his.

“What’s this?” Asked Chuuya, frowning at a letter that a penguin had just given to him.

Dazai shrugged as he sipped tea from a teacup so broken that only half of it remained. “An invitation, perhaps?” He looked up as another penguin flew onto the table, presenting the letter in its beak to Dazai. The March Hare smiled. “Oh, I get one too?”

More penguins arrived, despite Shibusawa’s attempts to swat them away with his hat, and Fyodor chuckled. “Looks like we all do.”

Chuuya, meanwhile, stared at the contents of his letter in disbelief. “Already? It’s only been a year…”