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"I will stay with you," Akari said softly, her voice trembling, "but please, leave the prisoners. They are innocent, Kuro."

Kuro tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing as a cruel smile crept across his lips. He took slow, deliberate steps toward her, the sound of his boots echoing ominously in the grand, blood-soaked throne room. "Ah, so you do know me," he said, his tone laced with venomous amusement. "But I don't know you. You appear out of nowhere, speak as though you've known me forever, and now demand things from me? Who are you to make such requests?"

Akari flinched but held her ground. "I'm someone who doesn't want to see more innocent lives taken. Please, Kuro... just let them go."

Kuro's smirk faded, replaced by an intense, almost predatory gaze. He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, tilting her chin up so that she had no choice but to look directly into his piercing eyes. His touch was surprisingly gentle, yet there was something profoundly unsettling about the way he held her.

"Why should I listen to you?" he whispered, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can waltz into my life, make demands, and I'll simply obey? No, no, no. It doesn't work that way."

Akari's breathing hitched as she tried to suppress the rising fear in her chest. "Because deep down, you don't want to do this. I know you don't."

Kuro chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. "Oh, you know me, do you? Then tell me... if you know me so well, why didn't you stay with me before? Why did you let me become this?" His fingers tightened ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make his point. "If you'd been here, by my side, I wouldn't have gone astray. I wouldn't have become this monster. So tell me... why weren't you here?"

Akari's heart ached at his words, the raw pain and madness in them cutting through her like a blade. "I couldn't," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away, but I see now... I failed you."

Kuro stared at her, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he released her face and stepped back. He turned his gaze toward Arnold, who was still tied up and watching the exchange in stunned silence.

"So, you want me to let them go?" Kuro said, his tone dripping with mockery. "And what do I get in return, hmm? Your presence? Your loyalty?" He tilted his head, his smile returning but twisted with malice. "Not enough. I've spent years clawing through darkness, wondering if the pain I felt was my own or... yours. You owe me more than just your company."

Akari clenched her fists, her voice trembling with desperation. "What more do you want from me?"

Kuro leaned in, his face inches from hers, and for a moment, his dark expression softened, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the madness. "I want your truth. Who are you?"

Akari hesitated, her throat tightening. How could she explain everything to him, here, now? How could she make him understand?

"What is your name?" Kuro demanded, his voice suddenly sharp, cutting through her hesitation. "You know mine, yet I don't even know yours. If you want me to listen to you, start with that."

She looked at him, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "My name is Akari."

He repeated it slowly, as if testing the sound of it. "Akari... Akari. Hmm. It suits you." His smile turned wicked again as he added, "But don't think that your name or your promises will save anyone just yet."

Akari took a shaky step forward. "Please, Kuro. Let them go. I'll stay, I'll do whatever you want, but let them live."

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a wave of his hand, the bindings on Arnold and the other prisoners vanished. Arnold collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping for air.

"There. They're free. But remember," Kuro said, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper as he turned back to Akari, "their lives now rest on your shoulders. If you try to leave, if you defy me even once, I'll hunt them down and make you watch every second of their suffering. Do we have an understanding, Akari?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Yes. I understand."

Kuro's smile widened, and he reached out to gently wipe a tear from her cheek. "Good. Then welcome to my side... Akari."

Arnold had been taken to the infirmary, and the room was left in silence, broken only by the faint rustle of Kuro's movements. Akari sat frozen on his lap, her heart pounding, her breaths shallow. His hand gripped her chin tightly, forcing her to look directly into his dark, twisted eyes. She couldn't turn away, even though every fiber of her being wanted to.

"I let the prisoners go, Akari," Kuro said softly, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Now tell me... why? Why does it hurt you so much when I kill certain people? Why do you break more for them than the others?"

Akari's lips quivered. She felt like she was staring into a void—one of rage, despair, and something far worse. Her voice cracked as she whispered, "Because I know them. I know you."

Kuro's eyes sharpened, his fingers digging into her cheeks. "You know me?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "You've been hiding inside me all this time, feeling my every move, my every thought... and now you claim to know me?"

Akari swallowed hard, her tears slipping down her cheeks. "I've lived beside you, Kuro. Twice before. Not in this life, but in others. And both times, you died because of me."

Her confession hung in the air like a heavy weight. Kuro's grip on her face tightened, his expression flickering between fury and disbelief.

"You're saying..." he began slowly, his voice dark and trembling, "that you caused my death? Twice?"

"Yes," Akari whispered, her voice barely audible. "Because of me... you suffered. Because of my existence, you lost everything."

Kuro's laughter erupted suddenly, sharp and unhinged, echoing through the throne room. He leaned closer, his face mere inches from hers. "You're telling me that you—the voice, the pain, the thing hiding inside me—were the reason I died? That you're the cause of all of this?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't mean to. I tried to stay away this time. I thought if I didn't interfere, you could have a better life. But I only made things worse."

"Worse?" Kuro hissed, his voice low and venomous. "Do you have any idea what you did to me? The emptiness you left? The agony I felt every time I killed, wondering if it was you? Do you know, Akari, that your pain became my peace?"

Her body trembled violently as his words sank in. He moved his hand, brushing her tears away with an almost tender gesture, only for his fingers to linger on her face, cold and possessive.

"When I killed them—my father, the king, Arnold's sister—it was like I could feel you shattering inside me. And it was beautiful," he murmured, his voice darkly reverent. "Every scream, every death—I did it for you, Akari. For the pain you gave me when you wouldn't stay."

Akari's sobs broke free, her body shaking uncontrollably as she whispered, "I'm sorry. I never wanted this. I never wanted you to suffer."

"Suffer?" Kuro repeated, his voice sharp as he grabbed her chin more forcefully, pulling her face closer to his. "Don't you dare talk about suffering, Akari. You abandoned me. You left me to rot, to become this. And now you cry and apologize, thinking it will change anything?"

"I'll stay," Akari pleaded, her voice thick with emotion. "I'll stay with you, Kuro. Just... please, no more killing. Please."

His lips curled into a chilling smile as he leaned back, pulling her closer until her trembling body pressed against his. "You'll stay," he repeated, his voice soft yet menacing. "Good. Because you don't get to leave me again. Ever."

Her tears fell harder, but she nodded, her resolve shattering under his gaze.

"Tell me," Kuro said, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative, as his fingers gently traced the lines of her face. "What's it like, Akari? Knowing that no matter how far you run, you'll always end up here—with me?"

Akari closed her eyes, her heart breaking under the weight of his words. "It hurts," she whispered.

Kuro chuckled softly, a sound laced with bitterness. "Good," he said. "Because now you'll feel what I've felt all along."

He tightened his grip on her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't cry, Akari. You're mine now. And I'll make sure you never forget it."

Kuro's grip on Akari's face lingered for a moment longer, his dark eyes scanning her trembling form. Finally, he released her, leaning back on the throne with a satisfied smirk.

"Enough tears for now," he said, his tone cold and commanding. "Maid!"

A servant who had been nervously lingering near the doorway hurried forward, her face pale with fear. She bowed deeply, avoiding eye contact with her tyrannical ruler.

"Take her," Kuro ordered, gesturing toward Akari as though she were an object. "Give her a proper bath, clean clothes, and make sure she's... presentable for dinner."

The maid hesitated for a fraction of a second, her eyes darting nervously toward Akari, who sat frozen, still trying to process everything.

"Now," Kuro snapped, his voice sharp like a blade.

The maid flinched and quickly moved to Akari, gently helping her to her feet. Akari stumbled slightly, her legs shaky from the emotional weight of the moment.

As the maid began to lead her away, Kuro's voice rang out once more. "Don't take too long," he said with a chilling smile, his gaze locked onto Akari. "I wouldn't want my guest to miss our little dinner... reunion."

Akari glanced back at him briefly, her heart sinking as she saw the unsettling mixture of satisfaction and obsession in his expression. She allowed herself to be led out of the throne room, her mind racing, trying to figure out what would come next.

Akari's heart ached as she made her way through the corridors, her mind filled with guilt and sorrow. She had to find Arnold, to see if he was all right, despite everything. Slipping quietly through the shadows, she found him in a small, dimly lit room where he was being treated by the healer.

She stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat when she saw Arnold lying on a cot, bruised and battered but conscious. His eyes widened slightly when he saw her approach, his expression a mix of confusion and concern.

"Arnold..." Akari whispered, her voice trembling.

He looked at her with a frown, his voice raspy as he spoke. "Who are you? You seem to be... close to that madman."

Akari's throat tightened as she struggled to find the words. She couldn't reveal too much, couldn't let him know who she really was, not yet.

"I can't tell you that," she said softly, her eyes filled with regret. "But I am so sorry for what happened... for everything."

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on him. She wanted to stay, wanted to protect him, but she knew she had no time. Kuro was waiting, and she didn't want to keep him waiting too long, even if it meant facing the horrors that awaited her at dinner.

"Please be safe," Akari whispered, her voice barely audible, before she turned and swiftly left the room.

As she walked away, she felt a weight in her chest, knowing she was leaving Arnold behind, but it was the only choice she had. She had no way of protecting him right now—not when Kuro held all the power. Her heart was heavy as she made her way to the dining hall, knowing that dinner with Kuro would be another step into the darkness.

Akari entered the room, beautifully dressed, her presence as elegant as ever. She sat down at the table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across her face. Kuro, sitting across from her, watched her intently, his eyes sharp, but there was a flicker of something deeper hidden within. Something that had yet to surface completely.

"Tell me something about the others," Kuro said, his voice quieter, more measured than usual. His gaze was fixed on her. "I want to know about the other versions of me. What were they like? What was we like?"

Akari stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden change in his tone. But she didn't hesitate. She leaned in, eager to share everything, to tell him what he had been in another life, before the world twisted him into what he had become now.

"They were..." she began, her voice soft, almost wistful. "They were my best friends, Kuro. You... you were my best friend. Not a brother, but the one I could always turn to, the one who understood me the most."

Kuro's expression remained unreadable, though a flash of something—longing, perhaps—flickered in his eyes. He listened intently, his fingers tapping against the table.

"We laughed together. Fought together. And no matter what happened, we always had each other's backs," Akari continued, her words becoming more vivid as she spoke. "You, Arnold, and I—we were inseparable. Even when the world seemed to be falling apart around us, we stood by each other, as strong as ever."

Her voice faltered slightly as memories of their past selves flooded her mind. She couldn't help but get lost in those moments, in the closeness they shared. The bond they had was undeniable, and that ache in her chest reminded her of what they had once been—and what had been lost.

Akari looked up at Kuro, her eyes finding his. He hadn't moved, hadn't said a word. But there was something in his stare, something more intense now.

"So," Kuro said slowly, his voice tight. "You loved us. You loved the others... and still do. Isn't that right?"

Akari hesitated. How could she explain that she didn't just love them, but that she carried the weight of their past deaths, their choices, on her shoulders? That she blamed herself for all the pain, for every mistake made in their lives?

"I..." she whispered, her throat tightening. "I never wanted any of this. I didn't want you to become what you are now. But I couldn't save you."

Kuro's expression twisted slightly, though it was hard to tell whether it was anger or something else that had surfaced. His hand slowly reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek gently, almost as if testing the sensation of her skin beneath his touch. The air between them thickened, and Akari felt a sudden rush of memories flood back.

"You should've stayed by my side, Akari," Kuro said softly, his voice almost like a plea, though it was tinged with bitterness. "If you had... I wouldn't have turned out like this. I wouldn't have become this."

Akari felt her breath catch in her throat. She could hear the pain in his voice, the rawness that he was trying to hide behind his anger. She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, to tell him that it wasn't too late, but she knew better than anyone that he had already gone too far.

"I tried," she whispered, barely audible. "I tried, but I couldn't save you from yourself."

Kuro's eyes narrowed at her response, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. He looked down at the table, his grip on the chair tightening as if trying to hold himself together. For a moment, there was silence between them, broken only by the crackle of the fire in the hearth.

"You couldn't save me," Kuro repeated under his breath, almost as if trying to convince himself. He pulled his hand back from her cheek, the warmth of it fading as he turned away, a cold mask settling over his features. "You never even tried."

Akari watched him, her heart aching at the words he had just spoken. You never even tried. It echoed in her mind, and it was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. But she had tried, hadn't she? She had tried to keep him close, to remind him of the person he used to be. But somewhere along the way, Kuro had slipped too far into the darkness to ever find his way back.

"Maybe..." Kuro's voice was distant now, quieter than before. "Maybe I was too broken for you to fix."

The air between them felt heavier with each passing second. Akari wanted to say something, to make him understand, but the words wouldn't come. What could she say? She had tried so many times to help him, but in the end, it hadn't mattered. The Kuro she had known was gone, and the one who remained was a man filled with rage, bitterness, and pain.

The silence stretched on, but before Akari could say another word, Kuro broke it.

"You know," he said, his voice dark and cruel, "I never wanted to be like this. But here I am, a king—" He scoffed, his voice laced with self-loathing. "A king of blood and death. And you... you were always the one who could have stopped it. But you didn't."

Akari couldn't hold back any longer. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the stone floor, as she reached out toward him. "I did try, Kuro!" she cried, her voice breaking with the weight of all the years of regret she had carried. "But I couldn't stop what was already too far gone! I couldn't save you from the darkness you'd already let in!"

Kuro's eyes widened, a flicker of something—fear?—passing through them before he quickly masked it with indifference. "Then I guess this is who I am now," he said coldly, turning away from her, his posture stiffening. "This is the person I've become. And you... you have no place here anymore."

Akari's heart shattered as she realized that the man she had once known was truly lost, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring him back.