𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝. ( Yandere x Reader )

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 : 20

It had been about a week since the presumed death of Octavi Kirayo, and everybody in the palace remained in low spirits. The Emperor himself had not been so intrepid and attentive towards you as he was before the incident. The days seemed to drag on for years, and the seconds for centuries. Everything seemed to remind you of him, and now, every time you looked up at the moon, you could only think of the words Octavi had spoken to you.

It felt as though you too were surviving through life during this tough time and not truly alive at all. The Emperor had noticed your dejected mood and resolved not to intrude or push any further at the risk of making things worse. With all, he concluded that the grief had sunken in and was beginning to fade away, so it was the perfect time to at least try to lighten your spirits.

He had left you short letters for each day of the week on your bedside table to wake up to. He eased the rule of the lockdown, allowing the staff to at least get some fresh air in the private gardens behind the palace walls.

On the following Monday of Octavi's passing, the first letter read :

Dear [Name],

Little by little, you will learn how to let go of this loss, but never of love. Love gives us the memories that we cherish so dearly and close to heart. Although the late Octavi Kirayo has made his departure to the heavens, he left you the memories built with the stability of love. Continue to grieve, but do not forget to live your life. Mourning is the last act of love, and gratitude, we can give to those who have left us. As they say, 'where there is deep grief, there was deep love'.

You didn't know who'd been leaving these letters, and all the confusion it brought you was understandable. The individual - most generally known as the stealthy Emperor - had been sneaking into your room at dawn to place them onto your bedside table, not making even the slightest of sounds. Whenever you opened your eyes, the first thing you would feel like doing was crying. But these notes much helped to ease the pain, and make this period of grief more natural to handle.

On Tuesday, the second letter read :

Dear [Name],

I have found quite an interesting quote in one of my poetry books. It reads, 'Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.'

It was a lovely little quote to read, and with each passing day, your heart became somewhat jauntier.

On Wednesday, there was no letter. Instead, there was a small box of poorly handcrafted chocolates: two milk chocolate ones and two whites chocolate ones. Spattered upon the milk chocolates were pink sprinkles with modest details drawn onto them very crudely. On the white chocolates, there were cherry blossom flowers painted on with a sort of icing or coloured chocolate, but it too was poorly done. Either way, they tasted delicious.

"How does this work? The icing isn't coming out." The Emperor announced as he held the piping bag in his ghostlike hands. The elderly head chef of the palace looked at the Emperor with great concern, too frightened to stop him as the Emperor waved the piping bag around. Soon enough, the Emperor squeezed the piping bag much too toughly, and there was chocolate all over him.

"Goodness me!" He yelled in shock, only to earn a mental facepalm from the head chef. The head chef finally intervened with a new piping bag, directing the Emperor's hands along the chocolate.

"Your grip must be delicate. Do not apply it directly onto the chocolate, but slightly above. Allow it to fall neatly onto your craft. If you apply it straight on, the texture will look terrible, and it will look too much of a mess." The chef instructed as the Emperor had finally gotten the hang of things.