Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

History was cruel.

The Sakusas and the Miyas had always been aware of this. Two royal houses bound together by politics and torn apart by pride. They were known to be rivals, enemies, or reluctant allies at best. But, at every attempt to join their names together, it had always ended in a duster. Every bond is being fractured by an argument too old to heal.

And yet–when Kiyoomi was eleven, he met a boy in an area he shouldn’t have been in. The boy who laughed loud enough to shake a room's walls and smiled as if he controlled the world. A boy who could bring a sense of home to even the most isolated places. A boy he should’ve never wanted at the start.

Atsumu Miya.

Truly, Kiyoomi had been careful his whole life. Prudent with his words, with his touch, with the way he controlled himself. However, on the other hand, Atsumu had never been careful. Atsumu had been reckless and golden. Pulling Kiyoomi into secret rooms, stolen looks, stolen kisses. Anything, just wasn’t morally right.

They had been in love, always in love. Before they even had the language for it. And every time, they had been forced to call it off. The Sakusas and the Miyas never worked. History had said so for them. Their families said so. Their kingdoms said so.

Of course, both of their hearts had never listened. Still craving for each other, craving their touch, their lips, worst of all. Just to feel skin to skin again.

But, of course. Kiyoomi knew he had to stop this; he didn’t wanna cause himself or Atsumu to be in trouble. He knew he had to call it off.

And that desire burned more intensely than it had ever done on the day of his wedding.

Gold and white were used to wrap the cathedrals. The scent of incense and lavender filled the air. His bride, a kind, confident, and always the brightest, standing at the other end of the aisle, her smile was soft and gentle. She was everything a groom could dream of. She was everything a future queen was supposed to be.

And yet.

As the bells tolled and the crowd rose to their feet, Kiyoomi’s eyes always betrayed him. They had one specific thing they needed to see one last time. Searching all over the crowd, desperate, frantic, until they found him.

Atsumu.

Standing near the back, his bleached golden hair catching the sunlight through the stained glass, eyes sharp even from a distance. He looked out of place in the crowd of nobles, too alive for this solemn ceremony.

Too familiar.

Too unforgettable.

And Kiyoomi would be a liar if he said his heart didn’t break all over again.

Because knowing him. In another life–if history had been kinder, if families truly didn’t hate each other, if duty hadn’t been stronger than love. This could have been them. He could’ve been standing in the aisle, watching Atsumu walk to him. He could’ve been his husband, and actually loved him in public.

Not having to be a secret or a one-time fling.

Not just a memory he could yearn for.

But, he wasn’t. Princes must obey, and he was one.

When he took his bride's hands, they were warm, and her grin remained constant. He pledged his loyalty, dedication, and forever in front of the crowd. But, behind every word he said, every promise, every kiss that was pressed to lips that weren’t the ones he wanted. There was only one thought–

Atsumu.

Atsumu.

Atsumu.

And in the back of the cathedral, hidden in plain sight, Atsumu swallowed down the ache that had lived in him since he was eleven.

Because everyone knew.

The Sakusas and the Miyas would never last.

Chapter Text

The room was too quiet.

The walls were stretched high, draped in tapestries embroidered with the Sakusa crest. The air was lingering with the scent of a faint rose-wax candle, a suffocating sweetness that had clung to the back of Kiyoomi’s throat. The attendants had done their work in silence, bowing and adjusting until every line of fabric, every clasp, every fold was laid perfectly. Kiyoomi just stood there, accepting and not bothering them, he knew he couldn’t speak out what he wanted. All his words? They were stuck in the back of his throat, where he couldn’t bear to speak. This truly made the whole process easy and quick, with attendants saying their goodbyes and giving Kiyoomi at least some time to relax and process what was happening.

Leaving Kiyoomi alone in the room, he sat down in the chair. The room was truly too big just for one man. It was empty and lonely. Too quiet, where you could hear your own thoughts. Kiyoomi sighed gently as he stood at the mirror that had refused to let him look away.

His reflection stared back, regal yet clearly stiff.

The black silk wrapped around his frame, stitched with gold that shone bright like sunlight. The ceremonial coat was too heavy, pressing into his shoulders until he felt his spine aching. While staring at himself for a little longer, he looked away.

Staring at the red velvet box that was in front of the mirror, the crown waited, its jewels catching the light in green and black. Weirdly, it felt wrong, wrong to be wearing the crown that had been passed down.

And, finally, it was passed down to him. To be king.

Truly, it was everything a Sakusa heir should be. Everything he had become into since childhood.

But if Kiyoomi had his own opinion on it.

He hated it.

Looking back at his reflection once more, staring at the face that looked back at him. His own face, pale and composed–because truly, this wasn’t his. Not anymore.

Behind it, pressing at the edges of his vision, was another.

Badly bleached blonde hair that only shone golden when it hit the sunlight perfectly. Eyes that stupidly glowed like amber. A grin that could only split the darkest of the night.

Atsumu.

A name that was enough to split his body in half.

Truly, it had been months since Kiyoomi had last seen him. Months since the arrangements were finalized, since their families began drawing the lines that would keep the Sakusa and Miyas apart once and for all. IF he had to think about it, he really hadn’t spoken to Atsumu since. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. Because every word between them had always ended in a fire, and every fire threatened to burn both of them alive.

And yet, that didn’t stop Kiyoomi from seeing him, until now.

His shoulders still stiff, trying to relax at least, as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, blinking suddenly, and almost as if it was a dream. He was suddenly eleven again, muddy knees and scuffed shoes, staring up at a boy who stood grinning on the wrong side of the garden wall. Atsumu had dared him to climb over; his voice carried, truly, he sounded like he was careless of who might hear.

“Gosh, yer scared of heights, ain’t cha?”

Kiyoomi remembered the exact way his stomach flipped, how he climbed anyway, not… because he wasn’t afraid. He only climbed because Atsumu had asked.

Kiyoomi shook his head, trying to make himself stay in the present time, but the mirror completely betrayed him. The more he stared at himself, the more he swore he saw Atsumu just behind him. Not a ghost, nor a phantom, but just the memory of a boy that turned into a man. Smiling at him the way no one ever could.

That stupid grin. The only thing that Atsumu could do to make Kiyoomi think non-stop about the man, or the way he looked at Kiyoomi. Atsumu’s stare was just, haunting to the poor man.

Kiyoomi stared at the reflection of Atsumu once more; secretly, a part of him hoped and yearned that it was Atsumu. Turning his head slowly and staring at the empty space that was once Atsumu’s figure, now empty.

The room was still empty and cold.

His chest ached. His hands pressed into the arms of the chair, nails digging into the wood. Closing his eyes once more, but that was the worst decision he could’ve ever made–because, with that sudden darkness would always come and haunt Kiyoomi with another memory of Atsumu and him.

The stables, the smell of rain and hay. Two idiotic fifteen-year-olds, their lips pressed together in a pure kiss, yet it was so hurried and desperate it felt like falling. Atsumu’s hand on Kiyoomi’s jaw, his laughter breaking between breaths, and Kiyoomi whispering what he always whispered: “Tsumu–we can’t.”

But even as he’d said it, Kiyoomi hadn’t pulled away.

Opening his eyes again, his chest tightening as he looked away from the empty spot in the room and back into the mirror again, searching for himself and finding nothing. His reflection looked wrong, too empty…too polished. Frowning at himself, as he stared at the mirror and just stared at the mirror for a moment. Just a moment, trying to convince himself that this was all a nightmare. All a nightmare, and he could just wake up from this nightmare and get rid of these memories. Closing his eyes once more, he sighed and just felt a sudden flashback once again of the stupid blonde-haired man.

It was a night when no one could find them; both of them, finally eighteen. Just both of them hiding out on the balcony. Kiyoomi stared at the fireworks in admiration, while Atsumu had stared at him the whole night, holding Kiyoomi’s waist and just keeping his head on his shoulder and smiling at the man.

Atsumu’s mouth near Kiyoomi’s ear, a small laugh came from the man as he finally whispered into Kiyoomi’s ear.

“One day, ya won’t be able to pretend that.. this ain’t love. You’ll know it the moment you need to know.”

Just that one thing Atsumu said had made him shiver, the memory clung to him a little too much, even after years of that moment happening. Even if it’d been months after the last time they’d spoken, like salt on his open wound.

It stung.

Kiyoomi opened his eyes as he held his face tightly and just dragged them down his face. His hands moved to his neck as he scratched his neck and face ever so lightly. His composure cracked, if only for himself alone in this empty room. He hated how much he wanted to see him. Hated that on this day, of all days, Atsumu had lived louder in his heart than the vows he was about to speak.

Truly, it wasn’t death that separated them. It was worse. Atsumu was still alive, breathing the same air somewhere beyond these palace walls, just out of reach. And, of course, Kiyoomi was left with the cruelest thing of all, his memory.

The only way he’d be able to yearn for the man. The only way he’d get to see his man, one last time, til it was officially over.

No more time to fool around with him. No more sneaking out at night and holding him in his arms.

Just the thought of him not existing made Kiyoomi’s chest tighten more until it hurt to breathe. He let out a broken laugh, which was totally humorless and quiet.

“You aren’t even here,” he whispered to his reflection, staring at himself as he frowned more and just closed his eyes. “But, you never do leave me. Do you?”

The silence answered him, pressing down like another cage that was trapping him into the silence. It was almost as if he were a bird, stuck in a cage, not able to fly free. Just stuck there and forced to do what he was told to do.

Forced to do what was right, not what felt right to him. Only do morally right stuff.

Not sinfully right.

Kiyoomi knew he had to follow what he promised his own parents; he knew he had to rule the Sakusa kingdom. He had to be a perfect leader.

Not a stupid grown man in love with another man whom he wasn’t even supposed to be in love with.

Putting his head down onto the table, he tried to relax. He needed to stop these memories, these cravings, these fixations on Atsumu. Atsumu shouldn’t be the one he thinks about marrying. He should be thinking about the bride, his new partner. His wonderful fiancée.

But, he couldn’t get that damn bleached-blondie out of his head.

As Kiyoomi sighed, a sudden knock came at the door, making him realize that it was time. It’s official. He’s getting married. But not to the guy he wanted to get married to. Making Kiyoomi rise up quietly from his chair, and stared at the mirror one last time as he just put on a smile on and laughed. Trying to make the mood seem happier and not depressing.
Turning around, as he walked towards the exit of the room, and just stared at it one last time, feeling Atsumu's ghostly presence still lingering as he sighed. Opening the door and letting the guards take him where he needed to go.

He needed to forget the man, but, even as he stepped out of the room, his thoughts still stayed behind–with the boy who would never stop haunting him, no matter how far apart they were forced to stand.

But was it bad that he hopped and prayed to see Atsumu at his wedding? That was only one thought Kiyoomi couldn’t get out of his head, sighing gently once more, as he finally walked to the crowded room, and walked down the aisle and felt everyone's eyes on him, as he finally took the last step and stood at the altar and waited for his new.. Wife.