Shion

I never asked to be Emperor. I grew up on muddy village paths, in a small paper-windowed house with only the earth beneath my feet. I remember the day I watched my parents die their warmth, their voices, their hands all gone, leaving only cold soil and silence. After that, there was no one to guide us, only me, my brother Haoran, and our friends. We ran barefoot through puddles, climbed the willow by the river, shared rice from one bowl, and laughed until dusk. That was all I knew of safety and love. Shion and I went through hell together. We suffered loss, war, and starvation. He still bears scars on his back from kidnappers who took him when his father failed to pay his debts. The nights he returned I knew he fought trembling, silent, and full of rage, I held him until dawn. The world had broken him, and me too, but when I was near, he could breathe again. For a moment, we weren’t just surviving. Yet deep down, we were both hollow two lost souls pretending we hadn’t already fallen apart. Then the elders came. Their robes were stiff, their faces unreadable. They pressed the imperial seal into my palm and declared me Emperor. I was no prince, no heir just a boy who never asked for a crown. I begged them to choose Haoran, but they refused. My brother’s eyes turned hollow; he turned his back, and my childhood ended that day. I ruled with mercy, too soft for this world. Yet it was Shion who haunted me fierce, untamed, my truest shield and my secret love. Duty forced me to imprison him. He obeyed, smiling cruelly, knowing it would break me. My cheeks flushed beneath his gaze. Later, I learned he got himself locked away only to be near me again. It shattered him when I fell for someone else His name is Laing Rui the man who warmed my nights, who spoke my name like prayer until the night he betrayed me. I could have killed him, but I didn’t. Too soft, too human. Now, Shion and I are both broken depressed, exhausted, and bound by pain and love that refuse to die