Chapter Text
Dazai was firmly bored and this could be felt throughout the throne room, on which he was sitting nonchalantly. He was in a position that his advisors would consider "rude" and "inappropriate" for his position as king, but now no one dared to reproach him. Dazai Osamu had established his authority and was feared by most of his people. It was ironic, given that this king was in reality a capricious child who still knew how to rule his territory with an iron fist. If you knew anything about history, you knew that the young brunet had acceded to the throne at a very young age and had had to fulfil his duties as king at an age when all you think about is having fun.
Due to his young age, many of the royal officials never took him seriously, deeming him not mature enough to run a territory.
His advice? They were ignored. His orders? Half-heeded. So, realising that he wasn't tough enough, on his own and with the help of his instructor, he studied his royal lessons relentlessly and supplemented his knowledge with numerous books in the immense library of his castle. And all in the shadows, as usual. Over the last few years, Dazai Osamu had changed a great deal. Even if his childlike personality was still present, he had had to adopt a tough and ruthless façade. The number of morbid deeds he instigated cannot be counted - there would be too many. The king of these lands was now respected by all, with a certain amount of fear.
But for the last few days, the king had been dozing off. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening, his people were calm, life was flowing smoothly, not an ounce of threat on the horizon. Dazai carried out his usual tasks, the same routines, and it bored him. He became grumpy, which in fact softened the servants, because the king's childlike attitude took over and he was much less imposing. Occasionally, he would indulge in a game of chess with his closest adviser, Sakanosuke Oda. Oda had been by his side since childhood, and being a few years older than his king, he allowed himself a certain authority over him.
The young Dazai, who was only 20 at the time of writing, regarded him as an older brother, a figure he had not been burdened with until his arrival. He was considerably more familiar with his adviser, who followed him wherever he went and maintained a fairly close relationship with him. Perhaps because Oda had been the only one to believe in his king from the start? Perhaps because Dazai had always considered him his equal from the day he met him? In fact, he was the only court employee to be seen as such by the king. The other servants and royal employees were inferior to him. Everyone, that is, except Oda, and everyone knew how important the redhead was to the brunet and therefore had a deep respect for him.
So that's why, at this very moment, now seated on the steps of the throne room, Dazai raised his fist in the air with an exclamation:
“I've beaten you! I've beaten you again!”
“Indeed, Your Majesty, it was a terrible battle" Oda replied softly.
“Odasaku," continued Dazai, using the nickname that only he used, "abandon these formalities. We're alone in this room.”
Indeed, Dazai had wanted to be left alone with his adviser for yet another game of chess with his friend. As usual, the king won. He was extremely intelligent and had never met anyone who was as good as his strategists at 'checkmate'. Oda, despite his own natural intelligence, could not, and probably never would, beat the younger man. He had tried tirelessly for years, but failed miserably every time. Deep down, this frustrated him a little, but seeing the smile on his king's face immediately erased this feeling.
The empty room radiated light, thanks to the many stained-glass windows that had been installed at the king's request. It's true that a few years ago, when he was just a young boy and his parents still ruled, the throne room was relatively dark. There was very little sunlight, and it was lit only by candles. From what Dazai remembers, the atmosphere was cold, dark, and inhospitable. It reflected his parents' personality in a way, and even though their son had inherited their arrogant traits, he had wanted to change his vision of this room.
He didn't want people to be afraid of him at first sight. He wanted people to feel the warmth of this castle when they came to present themselves to the king. So, he made sure that the throne room was lit up, even if it meant darkening it on bad days when the weather was bad.
“I know that, but anyone could come in.”
Although all the royal employees knew about their specific relationship, Oda had never wanted to address his superior in an informal way if he wasn't sure he was completely alone. If Dazai didn't care about this limit, he did and had always set up this barrier of respect between them if they didn't end up in the king's bedroom. It was pointless stubbornness from the brunet point of view, but he knew that trying to convince Oda would be in vain. If the king was known to be a stubborn man, it had to be said that his advisor was just as much, even if he was a little less so and more self-effacing behind him.
Dazai sigh in reply, knowing full well that no matter what argument he might come up with, the redhead would be able to reason with him gently. So, he dropped the topic, and gathered up all the coins in the palm of his hand to start a new game when someone knocked on the main door of the throne room.
“Come in." he said mechanically.
Only a guard entered, bowed, and then announced in a firm voice:
“Your Majesty, the assassin known as the 'Sheep King' has just been apprehended by one of our squads. We thought you might want to have him in our custody.”
Dazai immediately raised his head at this announcement. A small wry smile lit up his face.
“Show him in.”
With his chin proudly raised, his hands firmly on the armrests of his throne and his crown shining brightly on his head, Dazai nodded slightly to one of his soldiers. The latter understood his gesture and went to open the large wooden door to the throne room. Oda glanced at his king. Standing next to him, he felt the excitement of finally catching this famous man who had been the talk of the town for the past few months.
Two soldiers entered the huge hall, which was now a little fuller with the people who made up the court. They firmly held one arm each of the criminal, who was struggling fervently. Nothing could be seen of his face, which was hidden by a cloth bag on which was drawn a grotesque and ridiculous head. A sign that some of the men in his army had been amusing themselves on the way to the castle, with the pure aim of humiliating him. The two men forced the prisoner to sit on his knees, just in front of the steps leading up to the throne. They immobilised him, using their weight to keep him in his position, not allowing him to escape. His hands were bound, and probably sheared by the rope, behind his back, restricting his movements.
Dazai raised a finger, and one of the two soldiers removed the bag that was blocking the assassin's view. Long red hair fell over his shoulders, and the king's brown eyes met the criminal's cerulean ones. This visual exchange irritated him greatly. How could a man of the law even dare to look at him with such confidence? He clenched his fist and rose to his feet. To his great regret, neither he nor the redhead broke contact. He was just as all the rumours had described him. Young, not very tall but relatively thin so that he could squeeze in anywhere. He was wearing a poor, mismatched shirt, dark green stockings and wrapped in a black cape, which made it easy for him to blend in so as not to be spotted. What he never mentioned, however, was that cheeky smirk.
That damned smile that only got bigger as Dazai took a step towards him. The "King of the Sheep" followed his movements carefully, as did the brunet, who detailed this criminal from head to toe with an air of contempt. He circled around him, close enough for one of the soldiers to warn him that it was too dangerous. Dazai rolled his eyes. He would know what to do if the redhead dared to attack him. He continued his inspection in complete silence, the people in the court holding their breath. The king's aura, almost dominant in the room, spread out and embraced the criminal, who was practically choking. He was definitely born to rule.
Back in front of him, the brunet lowered his gaze and said in a barely audible voice:
“I've finally got you.”
The redhead gave a little laugh, which the upper class seemed to take personally. Everyone moved back imperceptibly at the criminal's reaction. They were probably afraid he would break free of his bonds and attack them.
“Pfft," thought Dazai, "how ridiculous.”
“You make me laugh, Your Majesty.”
“And why is that? As far as I know, you're the one in a bad way.”
Kneeling down, he approached the "King of the Sheep". He heard the armour of his guard clank, a sign that his soldiers were ready to draw their swords. Dazai himself placed a hand on the hilt of his weapon. He wasn't unconscious after all.
So, he moved closer, and whispered in his ear:
“You are going to rot in my dungeons, perhaps that will repent you for the rest of your life.”
This time it wasn't an inaudible laugh that rang out, but an amused exclamation. The criminal was laughing out loud, right in front of his king's face, folding himself in two, and if he could have, he would have rolled on the ground with pleasure. But Dazai felt his cheeks turn pink with indignation and humiliation. How could he laugh in his face with such ease? He spoke to him as if he hardly feared him, when with a snap of his fingers he could condemn him to certain death.
Angrily, he grabbed his collar to make him stop. But the young man couldn't stop laughing. Dazai could hear the court whispering in each other's ears. He was proving once again that he was too young to rule, they said. He couldn't do it, he wasn't even respected by the greatest criminal in the land. He gritted his teeth until they hurt.
A hand came to rest on his shoulder.
“Dazai, that's enough," shouted Oda.
Dazai knew he was right. He was doing nothing but making a spectacle of himself. He was giving them yet another reason to regard him as a child who had no business on the throne.
“Listen to me carefully. You're going to suffer.”
In response, the redhead gave him a provocative smile, without taking his eyes off him. Unable to take it any further, Dazai made a sign, and the guards pulled him towards the door to lock him in the dungeons. He said a few words to the head guard about the treatment the prisoner would receive before turning towards the courtyard, arms wide open, with a smile on his face.
“Don't worry any more. He's under control and won't be able to harm anyone else. Rest assured.”
The whispering began again, throwing accusing glances at Dazai, as if he could do something about the criminal's behaviour. But there was nothing he could do. They had already imprisoned him, what else could he do? The sentence would have to be debated, so they would just have to wait.
Oda gave him a distressed look.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course, I'm sure. So far, I've always used this method and it's worked every time. Why not with him?”
Oda sighed and resigned himself to believing him. After all, Dazai really wasn't wrong. Since he had been on the throne, his strategies had never failed. He had an uncommon intelligence that was almost frightening. But of all the criminals who had the misfortune to cross Dazai's path, this was the only one he feared. He didn't know whether his doubts stemmed from his attitude or his reputation, but this 'King of the Sheep' was much more than just an amateur.
“Believe me, one night in the dungeons and he'll be able to give me the information I want. I can be very persuasive.”
It was true that the king was an expert at manipulation. Oda had never known how he did it, believing it to be an innate gift in him, which would come as no great surprise. The adviser nodded in affirmation. He trusted him and decided to put away his fears and move on. He watched his king sink into his silky sheets, sighing at ease with a small smile on his lips. There was no longer any artifice on his face, and he suddenly looked younger, more innocent. He was back to being the prince without any responsibility on his shoulders and more cheerful.
Oda got up from his armchair to close the curtains in front of the window, something Dazai often forgot, so Oda did it for him. He blew out the small flames that gently lit the room so that it was plunged into darkness to let his king rest.
Dazai had the habit and the facility to make anyone talk when confronted with criminals in the dungeons. He had gone down there quite early this morning, dressing warmly as these rooms were not known for being welcoming or warm. He had dismissed all the guards who were on duty there and was waiting for the redhead to come into the light so that he could talk to him. Oda had not followed him as he was accustomed to doing, and never followed him in this kind of situation. It was always something he had forbidden to attend, as the brunet methods were sometimes too intense.
A few seconds passed in silence. There was only the "King of the Sheep" in these dungeons, as prisoners had been rare in his kingdom for several months. So, there was hardly any noise. But Dazai could make out a shadowy figure huddled in a corner of the cell, as well as the bright colour of his hair. He cleared his throat to attract his attention and his voice cracked on the damp walls:
“I don't like talking to someone I can't see.”
A short laugh followed, mocking in its analysis, which made Dazai clench his fist.
“Do you really think I'd give you that satisfaction?”
Dazai waved a bunch of keys. Although this place was indeed very dark, the sun that managed to sneak in through the small frames carved into the stone shone directly onto the king's face. From where he stood, the criminal could see what he was holding.
“I can always come in and force you to expose yourself to the light.”
“Without protection?”
“I can look after myself.”
A small sigh had just been released, but nothing moved. The redhead had no use for the king's orders and had no intention of getting what he wanted from him. He was comfortable in his corner, keeping warm on his own, making do with what he had so he curled up with his body as his only source of warmth. It was the end of winter and spring was beginning to set in, so it was hard to survive in the shallows of the castle at this temperature, given that he had been stripped of his precious coat.
“Very well," said Dazai.
In just a few moves, he found himself behind bars in the same space as the criminal and had locked the door. You can never be too careful. He stepped forward and grabbed hold of the flaming hair in front of him to bring his face up to his height. The criminal held back grunts of pain as he rose to his feet, obliged to follow the movements of the king who was still holding him down. His skull hurt like hell, but he tried to hide it despite everything. When their eyes met, he poured out all the hatred through his eyes, hoping it would make Dazai let go. It had the complete opposite effect, as he brought his head closer to his, smiling gently.
“So, did you sleep well?”
“Awfully badly, Your Majesty.”
The 'King of the Sheep' had deliberately emphasised the last two words of his sentence to show his contempt for this execrable king. Rumours were flying about him too, and he could only trust them. His wrists were still firmly bound, this time by a chain nailed to the floor, preventing him from going too far. So, there was nothing he could do to protect himself or fight back.
“And that's just as well, because I did. I even had the best night of my life.”
“I'm happy then, I think it shows.”
The redhead gave him a wickedly hypocritical smile, which made Dazai frown. He was becoming slightly impatient with his revolting attitude. He couldn't detect any movement or attitude that would transgress fear. Nothing at all. Yet he tried to appear imposing and uncompromising, but this didn't seem to affect the other, who remained unperturbed, apart from grimacing when Dazai pulled a little too hard on his hair. Dazai seemed to be amused by this, satisfied that at least it made him react.
“If you'd be so kind as to let go of my hair...”
“Because you're giving me orders now? Sorry to remind you, but I'm in charge here. Do you understand me?”
The prisoner answered nothing. He faced the brunet’s gaze again, his eyes steely. He wasn't at all afraid of him. On the contrary, he was having a bit too much fun. He was getting on his nerves too, but he was trying to get past that, even if it was harder than he expected. Everything about this man horrified him, for some reason. He stood up to him, and he hated that. He dared to talk back to him and oppose his decisions, as if it were easy and normal.
He squinted and finally let him go without any mercy. The redhead fell heavily to the ground at his feet, stifling a sound of dissatisfaction. He gritted his teeth to avoid showing his pain, while the king looked at him piteously.
‘If I were you, I wouldn't be such a smart-ass." coughed the other 'king'.
‘Shall we move on to threats? I thought you were more intelligent, didn't you, Chuuya Nakahara?’
No reaction, no noise, no reply. Only silence answered him once again, as if the revelation of his true identity wasn't on the agenda. Dazai let himself smile victoriously before crouching down on the same level as his prisoner. Chuuya's gaze was fixed on the ground, his red hair framing his face to hide his face.
“You can't just...”
“Yes, I can. Next time, be careful who you send such important information to. Anyone could sell you out for money, you know? It's a cruel world out there, I think you know that better than I do. And be glad I didn't reveal it in front of the whole court, just as a precaution.”
“You're a bastard.”
“Me? No, but the person who sold you out is. But apart from that, I'd like to talk about more interesting and important things. We know that you're not the only one doing this, that there are several of you. Tell me where you are located.”
“You could still die that I’m not giving you what you want.”
“It's a shame though, you're losing a great opportunity for revenge.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Haven't you heard? Oh, that's sad... It could be one of your friends who sold your place. We didn't ask for anything, but he came to one of my men and took it all back. So, I thought you'd tell us where they are, given their easy betrayal.”
It was like a dagger in the heart that Chuuya received. He opened his eyes wide, trying not to let any tears fall at the horrible information the king had practically thrown in his face. With an almost sweet gesture that made Chuuya's teeth crunch, Dazai tucked a strand of red hair behind his ear to reveal his face. He slipped his finger under his chin to lift his head and watch his face gradually decompose in the face of the brunet's announcement, who was more than proud to be holding him at last. He had him cornered, it was reflected in his eyes, which had broken after this revelation. He was finally regaining his imperial position and getting the better of his subject.
“So?”
Seconds passed and their gazes locked imperceptibly on each other. For a moment, Dazai thought he was going to faint from the shock and cold that had seized his whole body at the physical contact. But just as the redhead managed to open his mouth, someone else interrupted him:
“Your Majesty, we have important news for you.”
“Not now.”
The soldier who had just arrived, obviously running from his frantic breathing, didn't even notice the dubious position and proximity of the two individuals in the cell and continued:
“Please, Fyodor has been spotted near our borders.”