To Guest: Thank you!

III. To Break Them and Himself

"Every Emperor leads his nation with glory. Yet, at the same time, the path is always a lonely one."

Not before long, rumours of the second Seijuro spread among the whole palace—how he led the army with intimidation and force. No one had dared to ever disobey him anymore, or even think about usurping his position.

The status and power he had accumulated as days passed by. He had obtained another reliable ally, Mibuchi Reo, the military commander, as well as the support of several other noblemen. His father had fallen ill due to prolonged stress from work. Soon, the amalgamation of his efforts would come to light.

All the servants and military power were by his side. It didn't take much effort to get a servant to add a bit of poison into his father's medicine every day. His father's illness naturally worsened to the point of no return.

Unfortunately, his bodyguard who heard of his exchange with the responsible servant was unable to take it lying down.

"Crown Prince, this isn't right. How can you do such a thing to the Emperor?" Tetsuya questioned as soon as the servant left, his eyes blazing with determination. The righteousness of Tetsuya was what Seijuro came to admire before, but now, it only served as an obstacle in the redhead's conquest to ascending the throne. In other words, it was an irrelevancy that needed to be eliminated.

"What isn't? The Emperor is already at his last breath even without my interference. The sooner he leaves, the sooner the power struggle will end," Seijuro calmly explained, facing Tetsuya's gaze with an equally piercing stare of his. He doubted his brothers would put much of a struggle even so, but precautions were better than none. Daiki was too much of a wildcard, and Shintaro was more ambitious than he looked.

Yet, Tetsuya didn't shrink away from his gaze. Instead, the phantom bodyguard only stood by his ground.

"That is an excuse just made up on your part, Crown Prince. You… You've changed. The morale of the army has changed along with you. And as a soldier, I refuse to serve such a ruler. Momoi-sama… She won't be happy to hear of this too, and-"

Slash.

It happened in a flash. The shorter boy crumpled into a pool of scarlet blood, its bright red tainting his pale complexion. Seijuro looked down from above, his red silhouette blending into one with the blood on his hands.

"What audacious words you're uttering, Kuroko Tetsuya. I'll put you into place now for spouting such things brazenly despite having no power of your own," he said despite the subtle trembling of his hands. He had killed Tetsuya, the bodyguard whom he trusted and whose talents he discovered. Why did things have to end up the way they did?

Even when his breathing ceased, Tetsuya's eyes never wavered.

Later on, it was announced that Kuroko Tetsuya was killed for the crime of treason.

"Crown Prince, I've heard about it," was the first thing Satsuki said to him after the death of the traitor. From the biting edge of her voice, it was painfully obvious what she was referring to.

"Tetsu-kun… He's not a person who'll do such a thing. What exactly happened?" she murmured. Her morganite orbs studied her spouse for any trace of explanation. Seijuro returned her with a vacant look. He wasn't exactly surprised, but knowing the truth still did hurt.

She trusted Kuroko more than she trusted him.

"Yes, that is right. I killed him," he stated bluntly, observing how her initial scrutinising look transformed to that of despair and betrayal.

"N-No… Way…" she coughed out, choking in her muffled sobs. Seijuro watched her impassively.

"He dared to retaliate against me with his foolish ideals. That is his crime. You should accept it, Satsuki."

"N-No way…" she repeated once again. The glimmer of her eyes had long faded, and she was rendered to a motionless doll.

"Soon, I will be Emperor. Your father will live peacefully if he follows my orders. You will also be protected. Everything will be fine," he reassured with slight haste in a weak attempt to assemble any life inside her. But she only continued to mumble incoherently under her breath, her gaze unfocused and directed away from him.

"Satsuki, look at me," he ordered. The pink-haired girl remained delirious.

"Look at me," he repeated once more. The firmness of his voice caused the pink-haired girl to jump, her head lifting up to face him.

And then, it was like a wire inside her had snapped.

She clawed at him out of raw desperation, yelping at the familiar stranger she had gotten unaccustomed to, "No… Who are you? You're not the Sei-kun I know… In fact, none of you are the people I remember!"

"Return me! Return me Tetsu-kun! Return me everyone! Return me Sei-kun!"

Seijuro remained unfazed by her outburst. He only peered down at her coldly.

"I do not accept such insolence, even if it's from you. Bow your head down, Satsuki," he instructed. Then, he embraced her, her soft body sinking in his grip, perhaps both out of fear and resignation. She was crumpling like a fragile piece of paper slipping through his grasp, and he knew he was the root cause of it all. Despite claiming himself as a winner, he could do nothing to stop the change of his brothers from happening. Instead, he changed along with them, and had even slaughtered the one she loved because of this. But still, he wanted to hold on to the girl whose smile was reminiscent to spring. This illusion, at least, was something he wanted to protect.

So, with all his strength, he would clutch onto her.

"This time, I'll never let you go again."

When Seijuro visited his father at his bedside with his last breath, his red eyes were hardened and cold.

"Emperor, you once said that the losers are vanquished, and that dying is a weakness. That is exactly your state now," he muttered harshly. Trailing a finger over the soft fabric, the redhead's lips curled into a derisive grin, taking in the sickly pallor on his father's face.

"Now, it's time for me to take your place. I win."

Contrary to his thoughts, his heart ached defiantly.

Why? He had won, so he should be happy. He would be at a position where no one would ever threaten him again. But why was his body screaming at him that he wasn't okay?

When he tilted his head down to look at his father, he realised. Beneath the dull brown orbs of the loser, there was no resentment—only pride and relief.

"Heh… What a fine son you've become. How fine… Indeed. I… have no regrets," his father murmured. And just like that, the elder shut his eyes, serenity falling upon his wrinkled features. It was the first time he saw his father relax without any guard to his surroundings.

"…Is that all you have to say?" the redhead muttered, staring fixedly at the dying Emperor. He couldn't accept this. Why was the loser relieved, and the winner upset? It went against all the principles he had come to believe in. To win—

What did it mean to win?

The elder emitted a weak chuckle as he said, "What else… is there to say? To survive is to kill. Now, I'm tired. I'll join your mother in the afterlife…"

Leaving these words behind, the Emperor's breathing ceased. The immobile corpse had lost all regalness and grandeur that a ruler possessed. At that moment, his father was no longer a winner or a loser; he was just a normal human.

But then, what did that make Seijuro?

Clutching onto the fabric of the bedsheets, Seijuro stared at his now motionless father. The force of his grip caused his whole body to convulse in despair and grief.

"Why? Why don't you show more hatred?" he questioned, his eyelids turning wet. There was no reply.

"Why are you acting like you cared about Queen Mother at the brink of your death?" he questioned, resisting the urge to snivel. There was no reply.

Winners do not cry. They don't.

"How cruel you are, Father. I will not forgive you. I will show you just what it means to be a winner. You'll acknowledge me."

Yet, when there was no reply again, Seijuro knew that he would never receive the acknowledgement he was so after.

"Seijuro, the Emperor's death has something to do with you, don't you?"

It did not surprise him that his green-haired brother would make such a speculation. Shintaro had always been intelligent, which allowed him to attain knowledge other commoners would not otherwise obtain. At the same time, Shintaro knew his limits and didn't interfere in things beyond his control. Even if he himself didn't change and the world did, Shintaro would go along with what was necessary for survival. That was the difference between him and Tetsuya, and this fact allowed Seijuro to be more gracious to his brother.

"Does the answer matter, Shintaro?" Seijuro questioned. His brother shook his head.

"…No. The truth is what the one with power made out to be."

Seijuro smiled. His predictions were right after all.

"That is right. Because if you disobeyed me, I will not have mercy even if it's you, Shintaro."

The green-haired prince nodded mutely, his lips pursed.

"…I knew I would never have a chance at being the Crown Prince since my birth. My mother is merely a lowly-ranked concubine, but the Empress has given both of us a lot of benevolence nonetheless. For that, I am grateful," he started to say.

"I hope in future, you will become a King capable of compassion just like she was, Seijuro."

Something in Shintaro's words had awakened a lost feeling in Seijuro's heart. Perhaps it was responsibility. But he had already buried any irrelevancies unnecessary for victory inside him. And no one, not even his brothers, could ever unravel them again.

Seijuro nodded back.

"Of course."

Seijuro descended to the throne with the blessings of many. No prince ever dared to defy him, and lived under much trepidation and fear. But there was one thing that was clearly distant.

In a spite to control them, they had been tamed to follow him. Yet, that didn't shrink the distance between them. Everyone addressed him as Emperor, as no one dared to address him as affectionately as they did before. Ryota no longer addressed him as his great oldest brother. Daiki no longer played ball in his leisure time. Shintaro no longer challenged him in shogi. Atsushi no longer bugged Seijuro for snacks. Tetsuya, the glue to their friendship, was no longer there. And Satsuki was like the broken pieces of glass of their friendship, forever unrepaired.

They changed. The world changed. So he changed along with all of them. Victory was supposed to be the answer—it was supposed to help protect whatever remnants of them that were left. Yet, it ended up breaking everything that remained.

Wars were initiated, for Seijuro foresaw the economic benefits they would bring to the country. The Empire of Japan rapidly gained territory, but with it came the loss of lives and famine. Still, greed never spared him, and he continued to slaughter mindlessly and blindly through the battlefield.

He would be a great King. He would help the citizens out, like he had promised her. He would take care of them.

Those promises had burned along with the wind. He was a loser who failed to keep those promises. Now, he was just possessed by the demons of victory, though of course no one would dare to retaliate. No one would complain, as long as he led the kingdom to great heights.

Which he did. Victory. He could accept nothing less.

But amidst it all, he had lost something else. The love, which he once so craved for.

And he knew—he could foresee it. He would busy himself with political matters to the point that he would neglect his wife. Satsuki, depressed and forlorn, only busied herself with taking care of the citizens suffering from famine, no longer speaking to him a word. When the Empress eventually bore a son, he would educate him the way his father had done to him, and the whole vicious cycle would repeat like how generations inherited a curse. Occasionally, stray thoughts would wander in his mind. Was his father a past victim of such inflictions? Had his father really loved his mother after all? And then, he would brush them away without a single thought. For he was now Emperor, and he did not afford the luxury to think about such meaningless things.

A lone tear fell off his cheek. He was a winner, but an incomplete one.

A/N: And this concludes this threeshot. The original plan was more tragic in the sense that all the brothers died under the hands of Seijuro, but I thought that was too dramatic and uncharacteristic of Seijuro to do so anyway so I scrapped that. Kuroko had to die regardless. Other than the whole love triangle thingy going on, these two are simply polar opposites. Even until his death, I believe Kuroko will uphold his principles and I also believe Akashi will slaughter anyone who expresses such obvious retaliation against him. So long as there is Bokushi, there can be no Kuroko. And since Kuroko won in the main story, I let Akashi win here (that's a more realistic choice anyway xD). Anyway, this is my take on Akashi's character. He's ultimately a tragic character because at the end of the day, all he wanted was love. His change to Bokushi, I believe, is a way for him to keep up with his brothers. Feel free to offer your own interpretations of this ending as you please!