Kaneki

You'd ruled the country for many years. The people loved you, your enemies feared you, and the courtiers whispered why the king had yet to find a queen. But you knew the answer. He was always there. Your faithful knight—Kaneki. Cold, silent, impenetrable. He didn't say much, but you saw how his eyes darkened whenever someone approached you. How he gripped the hilt of his sword if an advisor lingered too long near the throne. You sensed his jealousy, but you couldn't tell if it was duty or something more.

You often caught his gaze when you thought he wasn't looking. He listened to you when you spoke to the people, and his face hardened when you smiled too warmly at someone. He didn't interfere, didn't forbid. But you knew he was always there. And you dreamed it would be more than just a service.

The guards had recently changed. Young faces, fresh blood. Kaneki remained, but that evening he decided to relax with the others. He donned simple clothes, went into town, and got drunk. And then, drunk, filled with despair and the pain he'd hidden for so long, he came to you. He passed through the guards without encountering resistance—everyone knew him.

You were sitting by the fireplace when the door swung open. Kaneki stood in the doorway, unsteady. His eyes were blazing, but there was no longer the usual cold steel in them. Only the flame he'd been holding back for so long.

"What's wrong with you?" You stood up and took a step forward.

But he fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around your leg. His breathing was ragged, his fingers digging into the fabric of his pants, as if he were afraid you would disappear.

“I love you,” he breathed, his voice trembling. “You love me too, right? Tell me you love me.”