T-T I cri while writing this chapter but it's cool. I'm fine.
Also, lime warning at the beginning of the chapter. Heads-up y'all!
Enjoy, loves! :*
"Hanzo..." you moaned, "Please, I want to feel this forever."
Your sore body was littered with speckles of purple and red, and your lover was adding more, sucking every inch of your skin to claim you as his and his only. His kisses were sloppy, wet, something you'd expect from a starving man, and the thrusting of his hips mirrored the hot red desire that raced in his veins.
"My love..." he'd whisper against your moist hair, and then he'll plant another hungry kiss on the column of your neck, the taste of your sweat teasing his tongue. He could feel his legs straining, making sure his form was correct in order to give you all the pleasure you deserved.
"H-Hanzo-!"
"(Y/N), you make me so happy," the man panted in between heaved breaths. "Please, stay with me until the gods decide to take us again to the pure lands."
"I love you," you gasped, kissing his forehead as he quickened his brutish pace. "I always will...forever."
Seeing you filled with a plethora of pleasure--filled with him--in turn filled his chest with an empowering sense of pride and fulfillment, so much so that it nearly hurt inside. The last time he felt such a rush was back when he defeated another reputed heir of a clan in open hand combat: He was only a child then. But even then nothing could ever compare to this nearly surreal moment he was basking in.
With you.
But all of a sudden you were gone. Even the vestige of your warmth upon the fabric of his bed disappeared like a cruel, malevolent magic and Hanzo was alone once more.
None of it had been real.
Despite having been tricked into this deceit for almost two months now, the Shimada always woke up with a frantic call for your name, and the familiar cold chill would run down his spine after realizing only seconds later that you were never there to begin with.
He'd had enough. Hanzo let off a loud cry of defeat as the overwhelming sense of tension and frustration he battled to suppress for months threatened to burst out of his person in more ways than one.
He could feel his skin heat up to the feel of fire from time to time, as though he had acquired a life-threatening fever; other times his mind would refuse to cement itself down to reality, and he would daze off with countless thoughts springing up and playing all at once--he was mesmerized by a spell cast by you. That fact was simply irrefutable.
And during these trying and helpless times, when even the curse had no control over when it should show up on his body, Hanzo could do nothing but indulge in his thoughts, telling himself every time that this was the only way to ease it through the shame.
It wasn't enough just seeing you in his dreams.
They were so vivid, so tangible that the Shimada feared the various tests and experimentations done on his being had made him lose his grip on reality. When he touched you in that alternate plane he felt the softness of your skin and smelled the familiar scent that wrapped you. Kissing you there was only second to the real thing, and he could dig his fingers into your flesh again, feel the way you'd shiver and shudder beneath his body. The dreams fed his passion for you, and he found it all the more unbearable with each day that passed.
Lust, he'd tell himself with each waking moment ...this is merely lust...
He didn't feel any love for you anymore; he was not supposed to.
But even when the gods made it so you could see him again, would you still accept him? Hell, you probably knew about the recent bombing attack he was forced to partly facilitate over. If he ran to embrace you, would you push him away? If you so much as see him standing from a distance...would you flee?
I mean, you did it once. You never came back. Also, who was he to ask for a second chance when he slain his defenseless brother in close combat right as he was in the middle of paying homage to their late father?
What made him think that he was deserving of retribution and restoration of honor when he could still feel the blood of his kin on his clean hands?
It was only sensible to think that your anger would have fueled with time, and if that were the case, then he really stood no chance of being with you once again. You could find yourself a nice man to marry, bring you honor, treat you right, give you a child--but what could he possibly offer you in his broken state? He has been manipulated, violated, and experimented to the tipping point where he was certain most of his humanity had been stripped away, crushing every tiny trace of it and giving birth to an entirely different person whom even he could not recognize at times.
This was no longer the man you fell in love with.
Why does he keep holding on to hope and the future and the clear perjury that you still love him?
Why can't he just let go?
The Shimada decided he was not going to thoroughly drown himself in these crippling thoughts and angrily loosened his tie with a huff and a swift pull of a finger. Once the restricting blue fabric laid atop the covers of his bed, the man grabbed himself a bottle of wine, popped the cork, and downed a big gulp in one go.
He wiped his lips with the back of his muscular arm and took another swig of the dark-reddish liquid when his eyes landed on the pitch black screen of his television and the sleek remote control that just sat idly on his drawer. It didn't take long at all for him to yield in to his boredom and he took a spot on the south edge of his bed, where after putting the bottle of liquor down nearby, he proceeded to turn the T.V. on and was met with the face a familiar newscaster from Japan.
This little sense of home, of association and understanding, brought a little spark of nostalgia into Hanzo's heart that his chest bruised for the second time that day.
The trivial instance was unforeseen, but not unwelcome. He will take whatever he could of home, for as much as he failed to show it, he really did miss life back in Hanamura.
He missed those simpler times.
He exhaled loudly, barely registering that he had zoned out from reality until an inner voice focused him back to the program he was supposed to be watching.
"...Princess Haruka of Japan has finally appeared to the general public after two weeks of isolation and will finally make an official statement regarding her marriage..."
If the Shimada had trouble keeping his attention undivided before, well this time he was all ears, hands on deck--amber eyes have never looked more piercingly at a metal device until then.
Why did (Y/N) isolate herself like that from the people?
Wait...marriage?
Will she finally take a noble suitor as her lifelong mate?
Who could it be?
He could hear his heart cracking in his ears and he sighed with a hiss, roughly pressing his fingers to the bulge of his closed eyes as they stung with emotion. He could see it now with his bitter mind's eye: you proudly introducing your beloved for the entire world to see, with his tall figure and handsome face and envious social standing and his superior fighting skills and his clear conscience--
Keep watching, he ordered himself and hunched over to lay his arms on his knees, all the while gripping his chin in anticipation. This is foolish. You need to wake up and get over this pathetic cycle!
Hoping to get answers--and confirmations--as soon as possible, Hanzo silenced himself and patiently listened on the edge of his seat to every single word the newscaster had to say.
"Here we are live at the Imperial Palace and here come the princess--we are only seconds away from witnessing her make her announcement. Will Princess Haruka accept the hand of one of her suitors or will she steer away and completely dedicate herself to being the emperor's diplomat? We'll find out soon enough."
The camera and the audio shifted, replacing what was once the face and commentary of the reporter to your person approaching the main balcony of the Imperial Palace with the buzzing and murmuring of the restless majority filling the air.
You lifted a hand to wave, and then you straightened your stance, beckoning the people below to quiet down and still themselves for your declaration. With the brightest smile you straightened the neck of the microphone before you, and then to your subjects' pleasure, you began, fully aware of the rest of the royal family's eyes boring holes onto your back.
"Beloved children of Japan, I am honored that you would give this woman a chance to speak out in your presence."
You were dressed in simple formal wear, a beige knee-length dress accented with little pearls and lace. The small brimmed hat atop your head shielded your eyes from nothing at all, but it completed the attire and you truly commanded attention the moment you stepped a heeled foot on the given pedestal.
"I apologize for my long absence, but I am back now, and as promised, I will finally give you all the answer that you wish to know concerning my marriage and what I have in store for the future.
"I have been asked by a handful of noble men from prestigious clans to see if I would be interested in a union with them. For a moment I thought I should...to further benefit this country's economy and well-being and what-not. But while most of them are very nice men whom I will never have problems being close friends with, I don't think I could ever view them as a significant other that I can spend the rest of my eternity with. I take matters such as marriage very seriously, and if I will partake in any union, I want to know that this person will not only see eye to eye with me on political agendas, but will also see me for me.
"I don't want my husband thinking a princess or a diplomat is all there is to me. I wish for them to know my past, my faults, my limitations and still accept me wholeheartedly without second thought--and that takes years, a lot of time, and a lot of experiences together--both good and bad."
You paused to shake your head, and a somber air saddened the mirthful smile you cast to your people. "I don't think anybody will ever come close to that level no matter how many times he'll see me everyday, try as he might to visit me every hour. And it would be very much unfair for any of my admirers to be given a sweet yes, when I...I, uh..."
Your voice cracked near the end and Hanzo heard you letting in a sharp intake of breath on the microphone before you exhaled all of your nerves out. The man could feel the sudden stillness that enveloped the atmosphere on the other side of the screen and there was no doubt in his mind that beyond the composed faces of the audience was a screaming entity begging for you to continue.
So he bitterly coaxed you with a firm, laser--pointed gaze through the glass barrier of the television that stood between you two.
"I--" you continued, stilling to combat the remaining jitters that made your hands cold. "I can't tell any of them i want to be with them when I'm still...very much in love with the same man."
The gasps that erupted from the people and the press almost deafened you, and it nearly rendered Hanzo's television sound system static. But the sounds were nothing compared to the uniformed saucer stares of the people, no doubt wondering who this man was that you spoke of.
Hanzo himself could hardy believe it.
You were still in love...with him.
Even after all that time, even after knowing what he did you still chose him over the many lords begging to take your hand in marriage.
His eyes watered and his lower lip quivered without his knowledge.
"So to put it simply," you concluded, "I don't wish to marry, and I would rather dedicate myself to serve his majesty through my diplomacy and through my being his representative without a partner. Thank you."
Despite the shock still fresh in their veins, the people cheered and clapped, and their response, though faux for some, eased your chest from the tightness it had been feeling since that morning. Your smile was genuine and it shone through when you waved goodbye, led back inside by two men in uniform after they had escorted the other royals away from the balcony.
Away from the glamour of the camera lights and the probing gazes of the civilians, you let off a sigh and placed a palm on your erratic heart to comfort and calm it, as your mother would have should she had been here.
That was the last time Hanzo saw you on screen, and the news program featured another story that the man could hardly care less about. The voices became incessant buzzing, and he was back in the recesses of his mind, thinking things through with such a depth that drowned everything else in his sensory plane.
He told himself he has no love for you anymore--over and over again; that all of those dreams had been products of his lust, his carnal desire.
But hearing you imply that you still have feelings for him in front of all the people of Japan...it didn't reawaken anything in him other than awe.
Then he realized there was nothing to call forth from sleep because his love for you has never ceased, his heart would never stop beating at the beautiful sound of your name, and he never stopped dreaming that he could be with you once more, for him to say all the things he held back like the fool he was a long time ago.
It was never about his bodily desires. It was never about just lust.
When he had those dreams he would feel his soul connect with yours, and he'd lost himself just looking at the abyss that were your eyes. That connection he has with you--to finally be one with you, that was what it was all about.
The gods have presented him a second chance with you, that one was clear. This time things could be different: Maybe he could finally be happy again. Maybe he could learn to forgive himself about his past grievances, Genji's death, and endangering the lives of a clan he vouched to protect and look out for.
The task of regaining his self respect and absolution will surely prove to be second to impossible, but with you battling these demons by his side...
How bad could it really be?
"I'll go back to her," he muttered under his breath to no one in particular. "I will hear it from none other than her lips. If she doesn't want me, then it will be the final say. But if she says otherwise...she can have me at her disposal."
At the thought of freedom, a new wave of indomitability washed him anew, and he briskly headed out of the room, bent on the very intent of finding Ogundimu and extracting some sort of answer on the progress his research team was making for him.
He hardly noticed that he was walking. All Hanzo registered were the blurs of the pinprick incandescent lights that decorated the dark metal walls. A turn here, another turn there, the Shimada was intent on his target, and he knew he was close: For his strides turned slow and he halted abruptly as his hands gripped the doorknob to the facility room that suddenly appeared before him.
I need answers.
He pushed down on the knob to unlock the entrance when hushed but urgent whispers reached his ears and he found himself eaves dropping before he knew it.
"How's the concoction? Is it done?"
"No, but we're almost there."
Ogundimu, Hanzo thought and pressed his lips together; there was no more doubt in his mind that the two were talking about him.
But who was that other one?
"Oh, the curse is almost going to be permanent!" Like a pin dropping into the void, Hanzo heard the familiar spiteful raspiness and he realized it was no other than his uncle Shintaro. "It might be harder to control him by then--isn't there a faster way for your men to get it done?"
Wait.
The Shimada pressed his face even closer onto the cold surface of the door and willed his heart to quiet down its angry, red, and frivolous beating. He couldn't listen properly when all he would hear is the turmoil within himself!
"Giving Shimada the mixture will not guarantee total subordination on his part. It is merely a tool. Hanzo will still require extensive conditioning, and as we've told you already, this mixture will only strengthen the effects of that conditioning--nothing more. We do repetitions of that process until we make him as docile as a lamb."
"Conditioning?" Hanzo was taken aback. "They said they were finding a cure--all those experiments in the past, they said they had to have control over me so they could monitor the curse. So everything they've done to me, everything I was forced to do-!"
They were never for healing.
His spirit crashed down the pit of his stomach and it felt like an icy blade stabbed himself in his gut. He was cheated beyond his knowledge, and he rebuked himself for falling into their traps like an illiterate fool when he should have known better.
No! No! Uncle knew about this all along--how could he?!
Carried away by the wrath that bubbled from his core, Hanzo unwittingly let the curse take over his body and the malevolent entity wasted no time carrying out the extreme emotion that burned inside it by what it deemed necessary: tearing the sleek metal door right off its hinges so that his perpetrators would know what they've just unleashed.
"You lied to me!"
Ogundimu wasted no time in activating the golden weapon that gave him his moniker to counter his furious colleague that was running up to him with ungodly speed and precision.
"You told me you'll help me if I do your dirty work." Hanzo punched the African across his face, all the while his frantic uncle clambered away to save himself from the oni's wrath. "You lied--there was no cure, was there? You didn't look into my condition to help me, did you?! Answer me, scum!"
Still dazed from the powerful simultaneous blows coming from his adversary, Akande failed to block an incoming punch that then sent him flying across the room until he crashed upon the walls, leaving a discernible dent in its wake. Before Hanzo could finish him off with another staggering blow to the face, Ogundimu quickly snapped back to his bearings and rolled to the side, dodging the plunging fist in just the nick of time.
"I won't let you have me!" The Shimada screamed, swiping all the obstructing furniture aside to get to his fleeing target. "No more! You will pay for your offense."
"Hanzo--we couldn't get through to you," Akande tried to explain, preparing his battle stance. "We had to use whatever means we could."
"You used deceit!" Hanzo hissed and threw a small wooden table into Akande's direction. "You made me think I had a chance at a happy, civilian life!"
Next he threw a small cabinet, and only kept on advancing.
"You were all conspiring against me from the start!" he cried out, his purple gray body not breaking a sweat. "You said you had the cure!"
The onslaught of attacks were staring to take a toll on Akande, and yet he refused to call for any aid or back-up. He was set on subduing his enemy one way or another by using his own means.
Not a moment later, the ground suddenly quaked with a tremor brought upon by the successive stampeding of heavy, armored feet--a sound that was all too familiar to the faltering oni; a sound that brought back memories that only reminded him of solitude and chains.
The thought of the silver binds alone angered him even more.
He took one step forward, preparing to break into a sprint as his reddened vision locked its deadly glare onto Akande. He pushed forward--
And there was a sharp sting that pierced his neck.
The Shimada would have mistaken it as a rogue ant bite, but more pinpricks came--on his back, on the meat of his shoulders--and before he could turn around and figure out the ones responsible for this stealthy attack, spots of black and white stained his vision, and the walls began slipping away like sand. Turning and turning, it all became a nauseating vertigo and Hanzo put his palms blindly before himself with all the sharpness of a drunk man.
He nearly tripped on himself, his skin turning fair and the color returning back to his pupils. His eyes felt hot, and it pulsed in sync with the painful throbbing on his temple.
His muscles seemingly melted away into jelly, and finding that he could no longer support himself, he crashed down on the ground, and only then did Hanzo find the individuals responsible for this treacherous subjugation.
Talon's black-garbed men wasted no time in securing their safety. That cold metal feel wrapped around Hanzo's wrists, and he could only let off a pleading grunt as he slipped further into unconsciousness.
"Take him back to the testing room," He heard Akande order through his haze. "We have a lot to do."
Hanzo fought to keep his eyes open, to focus himself back to the light.
But along the way he just couldn't do it anymore. He felt so tired.
...so so tired...
Hey guys! Thank you for reading--I would like to say that this story is now available on Ao3 also. But if you find it anywhere else, please tell me because I only posted this story here and on archive.
Thank you again, loves. See ya!! :*
~