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“9-9-1, marshall.”
“1-5-1, marshall.” Meruem paused, finger stilling on top of his piece. “Komugi, what are you doing tomorrow?”
“Um, what am I doing tomorrow? Well - I wasn’t planning on doing anything!” Komugi replied, waving her hands confusedly at the sudden question.
“Come here, then. To the drawing room. 7-9-1, pawn.”
“C-come here? Wh-” she flailed, “Do you want me to, um, why would you want me to be here?”
“Make your move.” Meruem prompted, tapping his marshall. “And you need not concern yourself with why I want you here.”
“Oh, um, ok. 2-3-1, pawn.”
The sound of tiles clacking against marble echoed in the following silence.
Meruem was frighteningly intelligent in many aspects, but understanding the give and take of interpersonal relationships was not as intuitive to him.
“Pouf.” Meruem had called one night, staring out the window at the stars. “How do humans express their... enjoyment of another's presence.”
“My king,” Pouf had replied, aghast. “Are you thinking of-”
“Answer the question.” Meruem commanded, glaring over his shoulder.
“Yes, of course.” Pouf had said, kneeling to hide the obvious disgust on his face. “From what I have seen, the most common ways for humans to express affection are through praise, gifts, and physical contact, though specific customs differ between countries.”
“Physical contact?”
“Touching another’s hand, head, or back is very common.”
“Strange, to find comfort in another having such easy access to one’s weakest parts. An expression of trust perhaps, to leave oneself with an easily exploitable opening in their defenses.” Humans were very strange creatures. The more Meruem learned of them, the stranger they seemed to be.
“Yes, my king. Humans are a weak species that become stronger through collaboration, and thus they value such meaningless things.”
“Fascinating.” Meruem had mused. He wondered what Komugi would think he meant if he patted her on the head. Would she view it as a threat? A reminder of his power over her life and death? Or would she think of it as a gesture between companions?
What did he want her to think of it as?
Meruem had been waiting for Komugi to join him in the drawing room since sunset. He’d laid out the food he’d requested on platters, small sturdy glasses of bubbling drinks set nearby. Apparently it was a common custom to drink something carbonated to welcome the new year.
The clock struck 8pm. Meruem had never specified when Komugi should arrive, but he was starting to get impatient. Surely she wouldn’t stand him up? She lived in his mansion, after all. He could go and drag her from her room if he so pleased.
He sat by the gungi board that had become a permanent feature of the drawing room, fiddling with the black shinobi as the clock ticked onwards.
His palace was given back to the Republic of East Gorteau’s government as part of the exchange he had made for a supposed cure for his... affliction. He’d been taking too long to die, apparently, and the Hunter Association had started to doubt if he was going to at all. They’d offered to cure him in exchange for a large list of concessions. He’d agreed without a second thought when they said they could save Komugi as well.
The small girl the short white-haired hunter had led to him had shocked him at first. He’d felt the pressure of a nearly immeasurable power, a strange force unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The short hunter had told her to heal Meruem. He'd told the small girl to heal Komugi first.
After he’d finally been able to breathe again, and Komugi seemed to be sleeping soundly, Meruem had asked after the fate of his royal guards. Pitou was dead, the short hunter reported, his face trying to suppress a complex mix of grief and rage. Meruem had already known of Youpi and Pouf’s deaths, their mental connection to him having been severed hours before.
“What a pity.” Meruem had murmured, eyes half lidded. “I’d have hoped to save at least one of them.”
The short hunter had grimaced, directing the small girl to seal his nen. A permanent forced zetsu in exchange for his and Komugi’s life, and a mansion with daily provision deliveries in exchange for agreeing to a nen-contract to never kill another human, voluntary surveillance, and answering any questions and requests from the Hunter’s Association. It hadn't been much of a choice.
It had been strange, getting used to his new limitations. He couldn’t sense life force, for one. He felt practically blind. His body felt like it was constantly submerged in a thick syrup, his limbs heavy and clumsy without his normal enhanced senses. He still had his raw physical power, of course, but that wouldn’t be enough against opponents that could use nen.
But he still had Komugi. And gungi. He’d learn how to cope.
“Um. Meruem?” A quiet voice called out from the doorway.
Meruem stood up, walking over to stand directly in front of Komugi.
“Komugi. It took you a long time to come here.”
“I know! I’m sorry - I was trying to figure out when you wanted me to come and you never said when but I assumed that you meant for me to be here before midnight, since it's New Years and all, but then I wasn't sure if you even wanted to celebrate and- and every time I wanted to head out I was worried that I’d come before I was supposed to so-”
“Enough.” Meruem said quietly. “I understand.”
They stood there for a moment, Komugi’s gaze cast downward as she fiddled with her cane. She was so small. Fragile. Weak. If anyone dared to hurt her he’d tear their throat out with his teeth, regardless of any contract.
“Komugi.”
“Yes?”
Meruem slowly reached his hand towards her, halting a centimeter above her head. He wondered if her hair would feel soft, if she’d let him take out the ponytails she always had in so he could card his fingers through it. If they’d ever be as close as they were when they were dying in each others arms.
“Um. Meruem?” Komugi tilted her face upwards, her head accidentally touching his hand.
Meruem froze.
Komugi reached her hand towards the thing sitting gently on her head, smiling slightly when she realized what it was. She wrapped her own hand around Meruem’s, threading her fingers through his.
“Would you like to play a game?” Meruem asked, in lieu of thinking about the strange soft emotions that small gesture had made him feel.
“Yes!” Komugi grinned.
Human customs really were fascinating.