Chapter Text
The forest that divided the Light and Dark Kingdoms was no man’s land, thick with trees twisted by old magic, where sunlight filtered like pale gold through warped branches. It was here, on the moss-covered battleground of silence and shadow, that Tsukasa Tenma met his rival for the fifth time that week.
He stood tall in white and silver armor, gold-trimmed and blood-smeared, his royal blue cloak laying around his shoulders. His blond hair, streaked faintly with peach at the ends, clung to his forehead with sweat. His scar — the one he'd received defending the border last winter — ached faintly in the summer heat.
And across from him, as always, stood Rui Kamishiro.
Shoulder-length purple hair was tied up lazily, strands falling loose around his monocle and sharp yellow eyes. He looked far too relaxed for someone walking into battle. His long dark coat fluttered as a breeze stirred the air, crimson magic swirling like smoke around his fingers.
“You’re late today, Chief Chevalier,” Rui purred, voice soft but laced with mockery. “I was beginning to think you’d found someone else to obsess over.”
“I’m not obsessed.” Tsukasa’s brow twitched. “You’re the one who crossed the border. Again. Every single day.”
“And yet,” Rui stepped forward, hands behind his back like a man strolling through a garden, “you come anyway. Every time. Isn’t that sweet?”
Tsukasa gritted his teeth. “You’re an enemy of the Light Kingdom. I’ll always come to stop you.”
“Mm,” Rui hummed, eyes narrowing with something that wasn’t quite amusement. “Or maybe you just like seeing me.”
With a grunt, Tsukasa surged forward. Their clashes were never quiet — metal against magic, light against shadow. Rui moved like smoke, weaving through Tsukasa’s strikes, letting the chevalier tire himself out, all while conjuring crimson runes midair that sent blasts of energy at his side or legs.
This time, Rui was faster.
A shimmering sigil flared beneath Tsukasa’s boots before he could dodge, and crimson chains erupted from the forest floor, wrapping around his limbs and yanking him down with force. His back slammed into the moss, his sword knocked from his hand, and the chains pulsed with Rui’s magic, tightening whenever Tsukasa struggled.
Panting, Tsukasa glared up. “Coward,” he spat. “Using tricks instead of fighting me with honor.”
Rui crouched beside him, tilting his head.
“Honor,” he repeated, tasting the word like spoiled wine. “You always say that. So noble. So pure.” His fingers reached out, brushing the line of Tsukasa’s jaw where the scar met skin. “But you’re still bleeding every time I leave you here. Doesn’t feel very honorable.”
Tsukasa flinched at the touch, not from pain, but from the sheer nerve of it.
“Don’t touch me,” he growled.
Rui didn’t pull back. His gaze had changed — not teasing, not amused, but something unreadable.
“You never ask why I keep coming back,” Rui said, voice quiet now. The teasing edge had faded, just a fraction.
“I don’t care.”
“But you do,” he said softly. “You care enough to be here. You care enough to let me drag you down like this every time. If you didn’t... maybe I’d have stopped.”
Tsukasa stared at him, frowning. His chest was rising and falling with labored breath. “Is this a game to you?”
"No," Rui whispered.
A beat passed. The forest seemed to still — even the wind had quieted, as if the trees were listening.
Rui lowered himself, knees beside Tsukasa’s hips, hands planted on either side of the chevalier’s shoulders. He was leaning over him now, closer than usual, eyes locked.
“You’re the only one who looks at me like I’m real,” he said, almost like a confession. “Even if it’s with hatred.”
Tsukasa’s breath caught.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The chains remained, pulsing faintly with Rui’s magic, but he wasn’t reinforcing them. He could have vanished. He always did after toying with him. But today, he stayed.
“What… do you want from me?” Tsukasa asked, voice low, uncertain.
Rui didn’t answer at first.
Then: “I want to matter to you.”
Tsukasa froze, eyes wide. That wasn’t mockery. That wasn’t sadism. That was a wound laid bare.
Rui leaned in slightly, and Tsukasa’s heart stuttered.
“You will never,” Tsukasa whispered before he could stop himself.
Rui blinked, shocked. A crack formed in his smirk.
Then, too quickly, he stood. The chains vanished in a blink, leaving Tsukasa gasping on the forest floor. Rui turned his back, his coat swirling like a stormcloud.
“Next time,” he said, voice shaky despite the grin he tried to wear, “try to hit me. Just once.”
And he disappeared into crimson smoke, leaving the forest silent again — except for the wild, unsteady beat of Tsukasa’s heart.