𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐎 ↳ ⊹ ° . ᵐᵃᵗᶜʰᵃᵇˡᵒˢˢᵒᵐ

Chapter 7.

The painter was adding the finishing touches to his œuvre in the palace garden. The two o'clock sun was burning his skin, sweat clinging to his forehead and back as he hunched over to add specs of light, stray hairs, a leaf on a tree or a cloud in the sky. He wasn't satisfied yet, but he needed to wait for his previous layer to dry before adding highlights, so he decided to take a break.

Seated under a magnolia tree (which, to him, looked like just some tree, and he didn't pay it much mind, but this detail might be important later), he let out a sigh, a droplet of sweat running down his temple, and looked out to his side.

The painter stared out onto the tree covered horizon which the sky fuzzed and dripped into, his gold eyes immediately finding and following pair of birds. He let himself drift in the light ambiance of the crickets' stridulation, resting his back against the tree behind him. He thought of Gaijin and Atsuko, oh how he missed them, and realized that he really should send that letter. He imagined Atsuko's slender fingers braiding his hair again, massaging his scalp...

Hiromi popped up out of seemingly nowhere. One second Kaoru was completely alone and undisturbed, and the next a bright orange haired gardner was yelling "Sakurayashiki! Hey!"

"Oh, Higa. Hi!" The painter smiled. "I'm so sorry about last night, I was hardly in favorable dispositions."

"Oh don't worry," The gardener started, "it happens to the best of us." He sat down next to the pink haired man, eyes lost in the vagueness of the distance. "So uh... what are you doing here?"

Kaoru smiled. "I'm just waiting to dry so I can add the final highlights." He explained. "And you're here for your job?" The painter asked and Hiromi nodded. "Hm. How did it go with Miss Chinen yesterday?"

"It... it went nicely." The gardener answered, cheeks dusted pink.

"Ooh, do tell!" The painter shifted to face the orange haired man.

"Well. She- how should I put this..." Averting the other man's gaze, he looked for the right words.

"Oh, I know, did she thank you in her own special way?" Kaoru teased, elbowing Hiromi who was now basically the shade of a hibiscus flower.

"She um... she did."

"Oh my, Hiromi, wooing the lady so fast already?" He laughed.

The gardener hid his face in his hands, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

—

The sun was setting. A content sigh left the painter's lips. "Well, better bring this to the king..."

The painting looked gorgeous. It was huge, barely passing through the door when laid on its side, and it was a huge hassle for Kaoru to drag it all the way to Kojiro's chambers. However, he was reluctant to share his burden with anyone, as the only person he felt he could trust in the entire castle was busy trimming trees. The coronation was now two days away,  and the palace was starting to buzz with anticipation. Maids ran all over the place, and that must have been that clothing designer talking to Tadashi! What was their name again? Makoto? Hitoshi? But anyways, the painter didn't have the time to stop, and he continued his quest, trying to push the painting this time, which wasn't much easier.

Eventually he arrived in front of the heavy doors of the king's chambers, and after swallowing the knots in his throat, he knocked twice.

"Open the door, I'm not in the mood to get up."

And so he did.

Kojiro was draped across a gorgeous couch with flower motifs, dressed in a peignoir and sipping on a glass of red wine. The pink haired man's eyes widened at the sight. It was ungodly how good the king looked without even doing anything. Seeing the painter come in, the monarch straightened his position before clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry, I assumed you were Mei." Oh, the painter thought, so that's why he was... well.

"Don't worry about it!" He let out an awkward laugh, trying his best to drag the painting in without shifting his feet so as to not let the door slam onto his work. The king got up, effortlessly pulled the painting in, grabbed Kaoru's back, moved him inside the room, and closed the door, all in an instant.

The painter stood, shifting his weight from left foot to right, not daring to say a word as Kojiro looked him up and down.

"I...  finished the painting."

The king, who hadn't even looked at the canvas yet, seemed taken aback. "Oh?" Kaoru said nothing, nervous and brimming with careful anticipation. "Can I look?"

"That's um. That's why I bought the painting so it would be appreciated." The painter kept his head down, as if the few panicked thoughts in his head about what the green haired man would think were weighing his cranium down.

The only thing he saw was the canvas being rotated and laid flat onto the ground. After a few seconds of silence, the golden eyes painter dared to slightly inch his head upwards to observe Kojiro's reaction.

He was smiling.

"Thank you. It's beautiful Kaoru."

Oh. The painter's heart leapt and hopped and danced, bumping against his fragile ribs.

"I'm happy you like it." He was smiling too, cheeks maybe turning a tiny bit red, though he would have rather been tortured than admitting it.

Their eyes met. It was a fleeting instant, a feeling, a spark.

And then it caught fire.

Kaoru's knees were weak. "Can I kiss you," the king asked, "or would you rather be the one to kiss me?"

"I don't even know you.." By then they were close—too close for comfort,not enough for gratification—their faces were aligned, Kojiro's face hovering ever so slightly over Kaoru's.

"Do you have to?"

There was no answer to this question, instead the pink haired man simply advanced his face and closed the gap between the king's lips and his own.

It was far from perfect, Kojiro wasn't a good kisser in the slightest. He tried clumsy things with his tongue, basically licking Kaoru's teeth, who pulled away and simply said, "let me take the lead on this one, alright?"

Before long Kaoru wasn't the one with weak knees anymore: the king was pushed against the wall, leaning his weight against it, panting and letting out small whimpers. "God, you're not used to this at all are you?" Kojiro nodded at the painter's question, legs shaking slightly. "Well, I think that's enough for today, you should get some rest for tomorrow." He took a step back.

"Kaoru please-" the king begged, "please, i'm desperate."

The painter reached out his arm, resting his hand against the taller man's cheek and pulling him closer. "I think you know what's best for you." He said softly before placing a small peck on the side of the king's mouth.

The door closed behind him. He finally allowed himself a sigh, dropped the confidence act, and focused on calming his racing heart.

Eventually, he made his way back to his bedroom, slowly starting to dread the morning. He tried to sleep, he really did, but the night was burning with the ashes of the day, and whenever his eyes closed, his skin felt like smoldering coles. He turned and tucked and twisted over his all too comfortable covers, almost smothered by the heat. That was until he heard a noise, muffled and shy, coming from the hallway. He got up, head spinning slightly—he would need water soon—and opened the door, letting it sit slightly ajar as he peeked behind it.

And there, seated against the corridor wall, was the king. "Kaoru?" He called, softly, tamely.

"Kaoru." Came another voice, one whose source was hidden by the shadows.

The king turned around. "Mei?"

Mei advanced. But it wasn't Mei at all. It was Atsuko.

A/n: i'm gonna try to update this more frequently, there should be around 7-13 chapters left before the end and then a small bonus! if you have any suggestions or things you'd like to see more/less of in my writing, i'd love to hear it :) hope you enjoyed reading~