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Ryoma slams the door shut with a loud and aggressive bang, head lowered as if at the mercy of his own defeat. His hand, a scarred fist, still shakes without mercy pressed against that barrier of solitude and a world he holds on his shoulders. He doesn't move.
Saizo releases a breath of his own. He watches him for a long moment, taking in his king's exhausted, disheveled, and dispirited state. His heart clenches in his chest, tight and unforgiving. He lets out a quiet sigh behind him.
"Milord..." Saizo takes a step closer, slowly approaching behind his master. A hesitant hand rises from his side, impulse gently placing it on the man's shoulder.
"I can't do this, Saizo."
To think five words was all it took to shake something so unbearably discomforting in Saizo's core.
Saizo's grip on Ryoma's shoulder tightens instinctively in the aftermath, having never imagined the time would come where Ryoma's glass would finally crack and trickle. Perhaps Saizo is no better than all the rest, perceiving Ryoma as the glorious Hoshidan king who could not be moved in the face of any vice.
Saizo speaks quieter, almost a whisper...
"What do you mean?"
The ninja didn't catch his missing term of address, at least not until the silence had dragged on for too long enough for admittance.
"To marry for my kingdom, how is it that thought of a stranger in my bed grieves me far more than fighting our country's wars?"
Saizo allows the words to sink in, like a bitter drop of blood seeping through the needle pins in his skin. His heart clenches painfully, especially now that such an image bears its own burden upon Saizo's heart; really, how could Saizo ever sleep again knowing his lord laid cold and tense and vulnerable beside a blank face of the court? The thought bites into his soul with the teeth of a viper.
His grip on Ryoma's shoulder tightens as Saizo brings himself one step closer, the space separating their bodies almost minimal.
All I want to do right now is hold you close; to soothe you in any way these red hands can... anything to stop you from hurting like this...
"Milord, please... You need to eat something and rest..." Saizo can bring himself to do no more than plea with a retainer's script, leaving that boundary uncrossed with a withering restraint.
I notice you start to sway a little, your legs starting to tremble. I pull you to lean against me, my other hand coming up to rest against your hip, steadying you. My chest is pressed up against your back, your body almost against mine. I lower my head, speaking against your ear in a lowered voice.
"Milord, please… you’re pushing yourself to the limit. You need to rest."
God, was he ever pleading; never did Saizo — ever a Saizo — plead like this before.
Ryoma squeezes his eyes shut, running a shaky hand through the thick of his hair. A breath is hitched in his throat, like a choke of wind.
Saizo further presses closer, wrapping one of his arms around Ryoma's waist to hold him up, the other around his chest to hold him close. He can feel his liege shaking, hear the unsteadiness in his breath, and it brings an unspeakable pain to Saizo's chest that cannot be described in meager words.
Saizo's chest is pressed flushed against Ryoma's back, his mouth right by his ear. His voice is a gentle whisper, an unfamiliar sound but one that doesn't come at the cost of his pride; for Ryoma, he would soften every edge to his comfort, even his own.
Saizo's hand gently rubs his chest, as if to pray the very ministration of his hand could lessen the twitch of his lungs.
"Milord, please... Slow your breathing. You need to rest..."
"Saizo..." Ryoma's voice inevitably breaks, hair hanging over his face with the press of his forehead against the door, staring at the floor as years of repressed vulnerability block his throat like vomit. "What could I ever do without you?"
Saizo's heart clenches when he hears his voice break as he speaks. His eyes clench shut tight, expression squeezing with a pain Ryoma couldn't see from behind.
I know you don’t often show weakness. I know you almost never show vulnerability. It’s clear how deep your troubles lie, how serious things are inside the mystery of your mind.
All I'm good for in this moment is to hold you tighter against me, to continue threatening every ounce of heat in my body into the hand that caresses your chest, to soothe your pain and worry that words cannot find an answer to.
"You’ll never have to find out, milord. There is no other place where I belong, and I will never abandon your side."
Ryoma is like putty in Saizo's arms. He keeps his hold on him, practically guiding Ryoma over to his bed. Saizo can only bring himself to gaze upon him in this state as a form of punishment; if he was to be oblivious of the gradual implosion of Ryoma's spirit, then he shall suffer enough from his negligence so as to never let this happen again.
The way Ryoma collapses onto the edge of the bed, he is like a rag doll with its strings cut. Saizo kneels before him from the floor, his hands releasing from its hold to settle on Ryoma's thighs. He stares up at his lord, taking in his tired, disheveled appearance.
"Have you really not slept in days, milord?"
"A man of my stature cannot afford the rest, Saizo. And if I were to retire to my bed for a day's entirety, it will only worry my siblings and the rest of our service; they will pester me all hours with worry, so much so the day would lead to only less rest and more upset for having accomplished none of my rightful duties."
Saizo's frown deepens, practically grimacing at the irritation those words fuel; Ryoma, unfortunately in this instance, is as correct as he always is. Sometimes, the title of kingship is more a curse than a blessing of any disguise.
Saizo squeezes Ryoma's thighs with his hands, willing himself to remain composed.
"You would be no good to anyone if you work yourself to death, lord Ryoma."
Saizo with his one good eye can pinpoint the exact moment Ryoma's eyes had fogged over with a teary glisten, the man's voice a hallow gulf choking his throat; if only the strangler could be apprehended by force instead of assurance.
With a crack in his voice, Ryoma struggles to muster the words, "I know nothing more that I can do for myself..."
Saizo, now, can only begin to feel desperate and helpless, hands shaking as they squeeze the hard flesh of his thighs in tighter grip.
He closes his eyes, head lowered as, "Milord..." drops from his lips and sinks to the floor alongside any heart he left within him.
Saizo reaches up slowly, with the care and delicacy of handling the gods' most beloved possession. His own expression is tight with his own worry and frustrations in the moment, but the least his hand so ill-equipped for delicacy can do is reach for Ryoma's face.
The rest is but a blur; Saizo could tell his master's been holding this in for far too long, and judging by the desperate grip Ryoma holds against his wrist for the meager assurance that Saizo's hand couldn't disappear from his cheek, he hates to endure all of this alone.
Saizo shifts to get a little closer, his other hand coming up to cradle the neglected cheek as well. Saizo holds that pretty head of his in his hands, trying to wipe away his beloved master's tears with his thumbs as if that would stop the tears from falling. Perhaps the fact Ryoma still has the capacity to cry should be a blessing and not a shame.
"I'm sorry, Saizo... This is- This is so unbecoming of me..." Ryoma shivers, as if unfamiliar to the feel of these emotions.
But Saizo runs a hand across his face and through his hair, hoping to soothe him.
My heart is aching for you. I want to soothe your worry and soothe your pain, I want to do anything I can to help.
"No, milord. This is no time to apologize. You’re allowed to be vulnerable, especially in front of me."
Like the one-fitting key to the dam, the waterworks only hit Ryoma with more intensity, unable to stop himself from succumbing to the onslaught of tears and sobs that hit him like a suffocating wave.
Saizo pulls Ryoma closer to himself, wanting to hold the man as close as he possibly could. He continues to gently but firmly hold Ryoma's face in his hands, trying to offer what comfort and support he can. His voice is but a pitiful, begging whisper:
"Please… don’t be sorry. Let it out. You’ve had to hold it in for too long."
Ryoma leans forward, pressing his forehead against Saizo's, staring deeply into his eyes with an expression of unwavering trust.
Saizo stares back at him just as intensely, continuing to watch every flicker of change in Ryoma's expression. He can finally see the exhaustion, the pain, the worry in his master's eyes... His own gaze can only clench tight with the need to help, to do something more to ease this unwavering burden.
Saizo speaks quietly, leans closer;
"Please, Ryoma…. Let me ease your worries for you. Let me help you."
Ryoma lowers his head to rest the weight on Saizo's shoulder, holding himself as close to the man as he possibly could.
"Just you... Just you being here, for being who you are, for being my beacon... I couldn't ask more of you."
I let you settle against me, taking a moment to adjust before slowly wrapping my arms around you, holding you close against me. My heart clenches in my chest at your words. I squeeze you tight in my arms, resting my chin against the top of your head. I speak quietly, my voice a whisper against your hair...
"I am here for you, milord. I will always be here for you. I swear it."
"Then... might it be too much to selfishly ask? To stay right here for just a little while longer?"
Saizo tightens his arms around him, holding Ryoma even closer against him if that could even be considered possible now. He takes a deep breath, the scent and feeling of Ryoma in his arms soothing him in a way Saizo never knew he craved so deeply. He presses his face into Ryoma's hair.
"I’ll stay for as long as you need me, milord. I have nowhere more I’d rather be."
Ryoma closes his eyes with a deep, shaky sigh, despite the contentment Saizo's words bestowed. He buries his face in the comforting scent and comfort of Saizo's clothed shoulder, a cloth that smelled more of home than any castle could bring.
"It’s alright, everything is alright, I'll make this all ok. You can relax. Please, just take a moment and rest," Saizo's voice is but a murmur in the silence of the chamber, his breath brushing strands of Ryoma's hair with every word.
Ryoma nods in silent obidence against his shoulder, arms tightening around the man's torso like a vice.
Saizo continues to hold him close, hands still rubbing his back in a soothing motion. Saizo can feel Ryoma relax against him, the tension in his body slowly leaving him. Saizo leans back a little, pulling Ryoma to lay back against the bed with him. Once settled, Saizo gently shifts him to lay more comfortably in his arms.
"Rest. I’ll stay right here, I won’t move."
Ryoma feels himself eased by the warm touch of Saizo's hands rubbing against his back, carressing his face;
"I don't... I don't recall a time I've last been held like this; hugged, even."
Saizo watches his fingers with concious content as they run through Ryoma's long hair, gently threading them through the strands. He knows Ryoma doesn't allow himself to be like this with anyone, but to be the one to do this for him now, it's an honor of its own accord.
Saizo holds him against his chest, arms tight around Ryoma's waist and shoulders.
"Shhhhh, it’s alright. I’ve got you now. No one will disturb you while I'm here."
Despite his words, he can feel Ryoma shaking in his arms even still; can feel the tears soaking into his shoulder. He rests his chin against the top of Ryoma's head, pointing no acknowledgement towards the cries he fought to hide. It is only after a pass of silence do words pass from the weight on his body.
"I could not live without you by my side, I could not do this... walk this path.. with anybody else..."
Saizo could not respond in time enough before Ryoma continued.
"I fear the thought of a stranger I'm wedded to on paper wanting to hold me this way, I don't want to give myself away with this same vulnerability to anybody but you..."
No matter how much experience you have, no matter how strong and determined and capable you are, there are some times where you need someone to lean on. I hold you as closely as I can, my arms around you like vices, trying to hold you together. M y grip on you tightens almost to the point of being uncomfortable, but I couldn't bring myself to care; I want to be as close to you as physically possible, needing to be close to you, needing to feel you against me. I want to pull you even closer against me, until I can’t tell where you end and I begin.
"You don’t have to… You won’t have to share these moments with anyone else. I… I can be here for you."
"Then... would you be that person for me, Saizo? Would you take me for more than just a king, but as your lifelong partner?"
An answer couldn't come impossibly easier:
"There is nothing I could ever want more than that."