In Which There Are No Rumors.

 Some will face many regrets in their lives, and others will carry fewer. For Sumi-Ei, he found that he weighed greatly under one gigantic one. One that he was often reminded of when he looked towards the Guardian that now guarded his younger sibling preciously, but even more so whenever he came face to face with his betrothed; Katsutoshi. Not frequently did the other Noble bring up the secret he knew once held between the two verbally, but anytime those eyes caught him staring, anytime his grin would spread and angle more to a smirk…well, they all served as just a good reminder as speaking. From a distance, though, and it always made the blessed noble’s skin crawl. 

Katsutoshi does it on purpose, he knows, they both know. This awful game he likes to play, keeping you on your toes of how well he’ll keep his word about anything ever- how he’ll certainly consider the option when discussing whatever cruel new thing he is with the current companion or “business partner” of the hour. Sumi-Ei cringes at the thought, physically winces, because he knows exactly the words that would come from those terrible lips.

 “What kind of Noble do you think would choose the hand of a Guardian over another Noble? Surely, you agree, right? That there is nothing true to gain from such matrimony?” it runs through his imagination, even if Sumi-Ei already sees gross blemishes scarring Katsutoshi’s mindset- why must something be gained from marriage? It turns his stomach to consider that every relationship someone has, must be because there is something more than pure companionship to be gained of it. For him, though, that’s just how the planet works. This for that, Tit for tac, blow for blow…

Especially one so prestigious as Katsutoshi himself, all the bots in their community knew of all the wealths he donated towards the front and even more grimly towards the back…”allies”. He made sure of that, that everyone within ear shot knows of him, knows of what he does, what he’s capable of… It terrifies Sumi-Ei, anymore, to know that even one person like him exists, let alone the silent and hidden bots he does “business” with on the regular. So one, who knows the truth of their relationship (none), could understand the reason behind why those golden eyes narrow at the other noble’s approach. A slow approach, one where a captor knows his victim has no good place to go. Here, to remind him once more, how miserable of a life he leads at his core.  

“What kind of Noble would distract their Guardian, especially when you- Sumi-Ei, present yourself so humbly?” a view that Sumi-Ei knew truly held no thorough meaning to Katsutoshi’s heart, no- this is a heavy blow to Sumi-Ei’s own heart, it does everything to keep Sumi-Ei palpable to his wants,”Do you deafly find yourself more important than a Guardian’s role? Their entire purpose? Something more grand and precious? ” 

No, he couldn’t. As much as the separation had started as a means of keeping them both out of harsh words ways, it had long since become a prison of self-defecation. 

 there was no way he could feel that regret when he overwatched the Guardian carrying books and trailing behind Solanine. Nothing with him could have been considered a regret, none of the laughs they shared nor the quiet alone times, the regret comes in not being careful enough to keep it hidden. To not be careless in that garden, on a day where he knew better, a day that Katsutoshi’s presence was soon to be expected for the purpose of less miserable negotiations. Oh, how quickly and awful that day plummeted, and it’s all replayed in his mind from the moment the last antagonizing word leaves the shorter Noble, and isn’t put on pause until he catches him stopping to speak with a passing handmaid. With fear and worry Sumi-Ei watches on, questioning, begging, that the words spoken just under a whisper are not their terrifying little secret. 

It always sends the noble spiraling, spiraling, spiraling into a depth of darkness that left his lungs filling with pound after pound of a, dark, fearful water, drying his mouth, and stretching his chest until it could no longer expand. Threatening to crack his ribs one by one, and pop his sternum open for everyone to see the awful things he had done. The terrible deeds he had committed, the betrayal he had enacted onto his own guardian. How selfishly he had acted both during and after. Sumi-Ei could still vividly recall the dryness in his mouth and throat turning his voice into a hoarse collection of scolding and recollection. A trembling whimper that had punctuated a horrific (one-sided) conversation- No. No, it couldn’t have been a conversation, because he never once spoke, it was all Sumi-Ei. He did it. He yelled and he screamed, buckling under the pressure of his need to be this perfect figure in their community of no wrong-doings. Self-sabotaging any chance they could have had to work something out together. Leaving himself a mangled mess, even after the Guardian had long left, off to let Solanine know of the sudden change. The Guardian’s mind no less traumatized, even more confused, but with a new monotone voice and blank expression. 

Doubts closed in on the leading Noble, how much did Katsutoshi know? Had he overheard his raised voice? Did he know how cruel he had been to his ex-Guardian? Was it his loophole? Did he spread it through his own estate? Drop more hints, more puzzles of mockery, for those that knew how strange the switch from Sumi-Ei to Solanine had been? Maybe they already had their own pieces, and all it would take was a few from Katsutoshi… What would he do? How could he fix it? Was there a way to fix it? It’s only one of the many thoughts that swirl in his busy mind as he travels through the large property, whispers of workers following him. 

Everywhere he turned, everywhere he went, the estate felt no less lighter than any other part, every corner seemed filled with hand maids chanting their sadistic assumptions. It was torture.

It is torture. 

To know that every whisper, every slight snicker, every glance, could be condemning him for something he’s suffering through on a promise that Katsutoshi would never share the details of what he saw.

 It leaves him paralyzed like a venom of his own making, motionless and pained, unable to move from his usual spot in the library. Most will find that he’s diligently helping to record and archive, or rework and recreate, the many books of Poltera or ceremonies of particular countries. He finds himself drowning in his own head, stuck like a simple fish in a mind-numbing disarray of nothing but everything all at once, not even aware that he’d long since arrived in the library, and even grabbed all the books and scrolls and supplies that he’d need for his day’s work that day. Dissociation working easily to void that memory, to make sure what little part of him remained in his body was totally and entirely entrapped in his cascading thoughts.

Why is it that Katsutoshi gets to win? Why is it that he remains on top, when he is so objectively wrong in everything that he does. Is it such an easy answer as to just being outplayed? Is that really all it took to ruin his life forever? One well placed move? By chance and luck when he wasn’t even rolling a die? 

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? 

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? 

“...Brother?” comes a sweet, quiet, voice, able to pull his head completely out of the sea of his fear and anxiety with such a small voice. To, Solanine, Sumi-Ei had just been….sitting there. For at least half an hour straight, ignoring two calls of his name, something out of the ordinary for his older sibling, the one who’s always on the move taking care of various duties. The one who is always so attentive of his surroundings and others. Inkbrush in hand, eerily only moving in the way of his trembling hands, and leaving behind a bleeding spot of ink on a scroll that had already been half re-worked…Ruined now, would need to be redone a second time. Time standing still as one sibling contemplates asking what’s wrong, and the other steadies his hand and removes the fibers from the paper to prevent the mess from getting any worse. Secondarily considering how there’s most definitely a mess beneath the ruined scroll, staining the table too. Uncertain of what he wants to say now to acknowledge the tinier Noble, realizing that he doesn’t even know what time it is, doesn’t even have a clue to know what Solanine had come to fetch him for. Thankfully, his baby sibling is not so deterred,”Ms. Pthume says it’s time for lunch, and that you can’t miss it for a third day in a row mister!” an exclamation made as Solanine takes steps closer into the library, ready to physically lead his older sibling straight to the kitchen for food, willfully doing his best to ignore Sumi’s still shaking hand in spite of his attempts to steady it completely,”They did say, though, if you’re late they won’t keep it warm! For both of us! So we gotta go now!!! Now!!!!!,” and just like some thoughtless drone, Sumi-Ei must be pulled from his sitting position, and dragged all the way there as all the previous bad thoughts drain from him. The estate becoming an entirely different place when not under the influence of Katsutoshi’s visits, it’s only by the time they make it to the kitchen that Sumi-Ei is back to his normal self. Un-controlled by Katsutoshi’s lingering words, for now, and able to get back to some semblance of another day longingly looking on at the Guardian also enjoying his large lunch and bantering with both Lady Pthume and Solanine. At least a  small glimmer of joy…