Rebel Red Carnation {Kiribaku}

XII

Even still, the parting point comes all too soon. I know it's close when I can smell the fumes from the rundown fast food place that stays open solely because of the industrial workers in Yagi City and my stomach starts to churn with hunger upon the first whiff. I cross my arms, hoping to suppress the ugly feelings creeping upon me.

"Looks like this is it," Eijirou murmurs as we stroll up to the paint-peeled surface of the light post marking the edge of town—the very one I pointed out to him on our way here. The train station is just over a kilometer away now.

I'm the first to stop, and when I do Eijirou pivots back toward me with a light smile. "I dunno how long I'll be gone, but hopefully it's not too long."

"...just make it back safely," I tell him, scuffing my shoe again. "Or I'll fucking kill you."

"Don't worry 'bout me, Katsuki," he says with probably too much pride. "Thanks for letting me see your home."

"Not much of a home," I say. "'S whatever, though."

"Hey, have a little faith in me, man."

"What? I never said I don't."

"The doubt's written all over your face. I know 's probably hard to believe, but I really do care about you. About your family and all the people down here, and I am the king-to-be, so you gotta believe in me a little more."

I click my tongue, though I let my eyes flick back up to his. He's right—I'm doubtful. More than that, though, I'm worried that somehow all this bullshit is only going to make shit worse. On him. On me. On all of the people down here, all because I made one stupid choice everyone else was against. All I can do now is try to shed any thoughts of regret because it's happened, there's no going back, and the one spark of hope I have lies right here in this red-eyed shithead who's apparently got a tighter grasp on me than I realized, what with how much I don't want him to fucking leave.

"Just don't fuck up," I tell him finally. "If you never come back, and I—"

In an instant, cutting me off mid-sentence and causing me to forget what the fuck I was about to say, the prince drops to one knee and bows his head. The swiftness of the motion and the incline of his head actually causes his wig to fall off, but he ignores it.

"You have my word as the Prince that I'll come back, and that I'll help your people no matter what it takes."

I swear my heart is about to fly right the fuck out of my chest, and I have to take a slight step back.

"What—what the fuck are you doing?" I stammer, arms falling back to my sides.

He looks up at me, worn out and even a little pale, but he's smiling one dazzling fucking smile that might as well be the sun itself.

"I'm giving you my word, just like I said," he says, firm.

What the fuck? Has the hunger gone straight to his head, or does he have a fever, too? Is he fucking nuts?!

"Stand the fuck up, you loser," I grumble, tugging upward on his sleeve and this pulling him to his feet. "Don't... go actin' all formal on me and shit."

"Sorry. I just wanted you to believe me and to know that—"

The rest of whatever the fuck that sentence was is completely muffled, garbled, swallowed up completely by the strongest of impulses I've ever had. It's so quick and so strong that were it a tangible thing, it have sent me fucking flying and knocked me out. Instead, that force comes in the form of my lips slamming straight into his, staggering us both just past the stupid light post. It unsteadies me, forcing him to, with a grunt, stabilize us both with his hands scrambling for my ribs, as my own are locked around bunches of the front of his sweater.