Chapter Text
10th July, 2024
The decision had been made. KP was to be Prime Minister again. They would announce it to the public on the 15th. The members of the court seemed satisfied, well, most of them anyway, some were groaning. They all, of course, knew it would come down to this, but it was still infuriating. This particular lot, the not-satisfied group, had been Prachanda's, of course. There were some from other groups too, but they weren't focused on by a certain rival of the newly selected Prime Minister.
Prachanda had been sulking, watching KP give his idiotic speech about something he didn't bother listening to. 'It was not fair, everyone knew that the stupid git was no good for the country', these thoughts were haunting Prachanda, seeing a stupid smirk on the imbecile's face was certainly not doing him any better. He could practically feel the smugness radiating off the idiot. In all honesty, Prachanda knew he wouldn't do the country any good either, but he liked to believe that he was at the very least better than KP. Deep down, actually not even that deep, he knew his belief was just a fantasy.
He was the worst; sometimes it felt like the self-hatred would lead to insanity. Thousands of lives had been taken, the majority of the reason being him. Those days really felt surreal when he would think of it now. He avoided it mostly, but in moments like these, it was inevitable. When Prachanda wore a younger man's clothes, he almost took pride in being heartless. The death of so much of his family, however, had grounded him. He believed that it was karma; it had to be. Maybe the lost youths had been reincarnated as his own children; the thought made him shudder.
He sighed and got up, the feeling of injustice at the situation making him more bitter still. At this point, he dreaded the sight of KP. Fury, as he had never felt before, was coursing through his veins. He swore under his breath when he saw his secretary, Mr Thapa, trotting up to catch up with him. Mr Thapa seemed flustered, and Prachanda just wasn't in the right headspace for a conversation. The silence was awkward.
"It was to be expected," Thapa said, promptly breaking it.
Prachanda just glared at him.
"Well, alright, I get that you're mad, but the way you're acting is not helping. Are you really letting him win?"
"Don't have much of a choice, do I?" Prachanda muttered.
"Well, we need to do something, and your 'strategies' hardly ever seem to work." Thapa snapped miserably, failing to hide his impatience.
Prachanda was annoyed, and he wanted to rip Thapa's head off, but also desperate. "Well, what do you suggest then?"
"This will sound bizarre, but... I think you should get close to him." Mr Thapa said, preparing himself for Prachanda's hell of a reaction and internally wincing.
"WHAT?!" Pracanda roared expectantly.
Thapa hurried to justify himself, "So you can get information and things alike, just pretend you want to be his acquaintance, will you?"
Prachanda almost chuckled, "And you think he'll believe that I'm being genuine." Thapa paused, then said, " Well, we do know that he's thick in the head."
Prachanda paused, "This is ridiculous, he won't be swayed by me."
"Trying never hurt anyone", Thapa muttered, earning himself a glare from Prachanda.
"I mean, it is just an idea."
Hours later, Prachanda was sitting in his office, silently brooding, although it would be defined by many as planning murder. Well, had he acted on his plans, it wouldn't be the first time.
He knew that assassination wouldn't help him in the slightest, but it was all he knew. He had a sudden urge to get raging drunk and pass out, because more thinking would surely lead to insanity. Maybe he had already lost his mind; it sure felt like it.
Thapa's idea obviously wasn't an option. Prachanda valued his pride and dignity above all else. That was the reasoning in his head, anyway, because Prachanda knew, and he was terrified. KP would make him see himself as he really was, and Prachanda suspected he would do the same FOR KP. It was a bold assumption, but he was certain. There had always been something between them, and if someone had cared to think on it a bit longer than they typically did, they would see something. Something that couldn't possibly be brushed off as just rivalry.
These thoughts were filled with terrific danger, and if Prachanda had pondered over them a second longer, it would have killed him, or someone else, for that matter. There really was nothing he could do; he accepted misery as his companion. Something had to be done, of course, but no one was really sure as to what.
He heaved, the sensations of nausea erupting inside him. KP was making him physically ill. 'Well, he does have a special talent for that,' Prachanda thought darkly. Everything was leading to dead ends, and the sheer amount of resentment towards the idiot was making the feeling of helplessness and desperation consume his entire being. It was overpowering hatred. He knew that dwelling on the fact that KP was simply better would literally be the end of him, so he stood and started pacing back and forth, thinking of KP.
He just couldn't stop. The git was constantly on his mind. Oh..OH, that was when Prachanda realised that the recent happenings weren't to blame for this. He had always been obsessed. KP to him was like a song stuck on repeat. The very thing that fueled him. What he felt for KP, it couldn't possibly be just hatred, and quite frankly, even Prachanda didn't believe so. No matter how hard he tried to, and he tried, oh, he tried, with all his might, all that was left of his sold soul. The feeling could not be described, not even if all the languages in the world were combined. All Prachanda knew was that KP Oli was his reason.