Noblesse Oblige

V. Promises

He had no idea that he would be reduced to this. This man – the man whom he once feared, whom he had so many times defied—his predecessor, the Great King Enma, reduced to practically nothing. And it troubled him more than anything else he had ever faced. How could a man, trusted, admired, even worshiped betray the trust of his own countrymen? His own world? What led him to do something so horrible towards those who never intended to harm anyone, let alone him? He could have been a great ruler. He could have improved the three worlds, the Human and Demon worlds, especially, yet he chose to create chaos.

Now it's all come to this…

Impeachment.

A dishonorable discharge.

A death sentence.

And in a few moments, a journey through the River Styx into the Vortex of Oblivion.

It made him sick just thinking about it.

His father, a traitor. And him…what exactly does this make him? The prosecutor? The replacement? A mere traitor's spawn? A murderer? Of course…a murderer.The traitor and the murderer. What a shame.

It took him every ounce of energy he possessed to resist breaking down right then and there as he watched the warden open his father's cell. And if it weren't for Botan holding him the entire time, he swore he would have collapsed to the ground (Thank heavens she agreed to accompany him)! His father, the Great King Enma, was now a withered prisoner—and he looked so weak…so fragile. His hair was thinning, his thick, long beard had turned gray, his eyes looked as though he had not slept in days, and he'd lost weight—quite a lot of it, in fact. Looking at him now, one would have a hard time believing this was the same man who brainwashed passing demons and ordered them to attack humans who, in turn, eliminated them. How pitiful.

"You have thirty minutes until he is escorted to the River Styx, Your Highness," said the warden as they entered.

The prince nodded.

"Will you be alright here?" asked his blue-haired companion in concern, to whom he also nodded in response.

"Very well," she said, before finally leaving.

"The final stage of the draining of powers is over," his father said as he seated himself on the concrete floor in front of him. "In about a week you will be going through training in Hokkaido, yes?"

Koenma nodded.

"In my absence," he said, "Botan will be taking care of my duties with the help of Jorge. I've already prepared a replacement ferry-woman for the time being."

"You're not leaving the Chief Councilor in charge?"

He shook his head.

"With all due respect, I'd rather not leave them in charge. Those men have enough power; presiding over my duties, even for a little while, may have them seek for more. I'd rather not deal with another case like this again," he explained. "Botan has been with me long enough; I trust her enough to know what to do, and what not to do. Besides, she's going to have to get used to this kind of work as the future queen of the Spirit World."

"Ah, so the Council has sanctioned your marriage?"

"No," the prince replied, shaking his head once more, "but they are going to have to soon if they're expecting an heir from me."

"You're really going through with this? Marrying that young woman, I mean," asked his father, his amusement blatant in his tone.

"Of course I am," he answered in a matter-of-factly manner, "and I have every intention to do whatever it takes. I refuse to marry and mate with a total stranger, as the council suggests that I do, just for the sake of keeping the bloodline 'pure'. I find the notion ridiculous."

Enma sighed. He wasn't surprised to hear such things come from his son; the boy after all, did have a defiant streak (like harboring a fugitive and defending a Spirit Detective who happened to be a potentially dangerous demon, just to name a few). How amusing, his determination was. The real question he had, however, was whether or not he would succeed in achieving this goal. Koenma may have the determination and perseverance, but the Royal Council was just as persistent. That was what worried him.

Koenma, on the other hand, had other worries besides his relations with the blue-haired ferry-woman (an affair which his own father dubbed as an "illicit" affair when he discovered it; technically it wasn't, since no sexual acts were involved. Then again, any romantic affair with someone of a commoner status was considered "illicit" to just about every person of regal blood, which he found completely absurd). Not wanting to waste the few moments he had left of talking to his father, he decided to ask the question which had been rattling in his head since day one his father's impeachment—

"Why did you do it?"

"I-I…I don't know," he replied honestly, much to the prince's dismay.

The former king knew exactly what his son was talking about; no further explanations or elaborations were needed. Yet somehow, to this day, he still had no idea as to why he had chosen to do what he had done. Back then, it seemed like the perfect plan—to brainwash all the low-class demons into killing humans and appoint humans to kill those demons so that they may "protect" their own race in order to obtain whatever it is he needed from the Human World—but now…now he wished he could turn back and fix all those errors, bring back the lives of all those he had ordered to be killed. But that wasn't how life worked. Now he was paying for all of it. Paying with his life.

"I suppose it was the only way to get to the Human World's resources foolproof," he further explained. "At least that way, it would look like we were protecting humans while…while stealing from them. It was the perfect distraction."

The young prince couldn't believe what he was hearing. His suspicions had been correct, as it appeared, and Botan was right, too. It was all for selfish reasons. His father killed, just to steal. All of it was done, all for the sake of vanity All because of his father's greed. How appalling—how come he had not noticed it then? Why had it taken him this long to see this crime? All of it, for hundreds of years, had been happening right in front of him, yet he failed to see it.

"Father, we are supposed to protect both the Demon and Human worlds," he told the former king, not knowing what else to say.

"I know," said his father, "I don't know what I was thinking. I hope—I hope you can forgive me…for all the things I've done. For all the pain I'd caused you."

Koenma sighed. This was all too much. He didn't think he could take it any longer…

"You're right," he started, hoping he could find the right words to say despite all the stress and pressure he was experiencing, "you have caused a lot of pain. Not only to me, but to my friends as well. To Botan, especially—from your mistreatment of her then, to your various attempts to have her jailed, to Yusuke and your efforts of having him exterminated, your tormenting of Nobuhiro when you found out about Namie, and now this."

Every word…every syllable that came out of his son's mouth hurt worse than a million lashings, burned more than acid being poured on a fresh wound. And he deserved each and every one of them.

"I should hate you for this, for everything," his son continued.

Yes, he thought, he definitely deserved this.

"Yet despite all these tribulations, I cannot bring myself to hate you," he concluded. "You are still my father after all; if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this world. I wouldn't be where I am now."

I cannot bring myself to hate you…

What a great wonder, this boy of his was. After everything he's done, he still couldn't bring himself to feel such atrocity towards him. Why, this was Nobuhiro he probably would not have taken the time to visit him on his last few minutes of living. If anything ,he probably would have only visited just to mock him. A great wonder, this boy was; a great wonder, indeed.

"Your Highness," said the warden to the young prince, making the both of them turn to the man's direction, "it's time."

The prince nodded tersely at the man and rose from his spot on the concrete. The gates were opened and two men entered, walking towards the former king's side.

The prince exited first, and with one final exchange of looks (one repenting, the other stoic), the prisoner was guided to a boat thus beginning the journey to his own end.

The traitor. And he, the murderer, was left alive.

Murderer…

Funny how fate played its pawns sometimes.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She despised moments like this. She hated seeing him this way. There was no point in asking him what was wrong either; she already knew what his problem was. To make matters worse? She could do nothing about it. Absolutely nothing.

And she hated herself for that.

Had she ever felt the slightest bit of affection for her own family when she ran away, had she ever felt anything but animosity towards them she would have known what to say; would have known what to do.

But there was nothing else…

And right now, she couldn't hate herself any more.

Right now, there was only silence, save the noises of the papers which were being stacked, filed, turned, or signed.

Uncomfortable silence…

"Botan," the prince finally spoke.

Finally, she thought, perhaps he wanted to talk now?

"Will you fetch me Takayama's folder from the file cabinet? This needs to be placed there," he said.

Of course not, much to her dismay.

The blue-haired ferry-woman rose from her seat and took the folder from the file cabinet across the room. Once she returned, the prince spoke once more.

"Botan," he began, "do you think I did the right thing by having my father imprisoned because of his treason? I mean, I know it's what I'm supposed to do, considering the many lives he'd taken because of what he did, but somehow it doesn't feel right. He's still family after all." He paused. "I feel like a murderer."

Botan sighed.

"You are nota murderer, Koenma," she corrected him, almost snapping at him. Then with a softened voice she added, "don't ever think of yourself that way again."

A murderer…

So that's how he thought of himself.

She didn't know what hurt more any longer—the fact that Koenma thought of himself as the bigger criminal, or that she didn't know to say or do in order to comfort him. She could only watch as the prince once again lamented on his desk across her.

He sighed.

"I've lost far too much people already," he said as he read yet another document on his desk while she filed papers he had already signed.

He then lifted his head and looked at her, a pleading expression present in his eyes.

"Please promise me you won't go either," he said.

She smiled at him warmly and placed her hand over his.

"Now, why would I do that?" she asked. "Even if I tried, I won't be able to; I love you too much."

His lips curled to a small, weak, yet reassured smile and seeing that put her at ease. She may not have been able to help him much, but at least she was able to make him smile. That alone was enough for her.

Remember when I said that the present-past-present will be broken eventually? Well, that's about to happen...the next chapter after this one shall be set in the present, about five days after this chapter. Originally I was going to write that chapter in this one but it just didn't seem to fit so I decided to separate them.