Kakashi spent the evening meticulously filling out the application form. Several questions were vaguely worded, leaving him unsure of the intended answers. He skipped those, deciding to address any ambiguities later.
Darkness had fallen by the time he finished. He neatly folded the clothes strewn across the bed near the window and placed them on the other bed, creating a small semblance of order in the otherwise cluttered room. He sat on the edge of the bed, gazing out the window. The lampposts cast a warm, inviting glow on the pathways connecting the school buildings. Students strolled along the paths, their laughter carrying on the night air. Some sat on benches, engaged in quiet conversations or simply enjoying the evening.
The scene was peaceful, a stark contrast to the memories that haunted him. He rose, went to the bathroom, and took a long, much-needed bath. The feeling of warm water soothing his skin was a small luxury he hadn't known for years. Back in his room, he lay down on the mattress, the softness a surprising comfort after years of sleeping on a hard floor.
At the lab, they had shared a single blanket on the floor, two to a blanket. The nights were always sweltering, especially in the summer, so Kakashi had always slept shirtless, despite Megumin's protests. Now, the memory of her concern tugged at his heart.
He rested his head on the pillow, the soft fabric a welcome change. He gazed up at the night sky, visible through his window, his mind drifting to his sister, wondering what she was doing, his thoughts a comforting distraction until sleep finally claimed him.
...
"I didn't do it!" Kakashi insisted, his voice tight with controlled fury. "Why would I do something so disgraceful?"
"It's a lie! I saw him! He was the last person in Father's room!" a small boy accused, his finger pointing directly at Kakashi.
"I'm sorry, Prince, but we'll have to search your room," an elderly man stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"That's absurd! Are you calling your soon-to-be king a thief?!" Kakashi roared, his voice filled with righteous indignation. "You could be executed for such an accusation!"
Two burly guards seized Kakashi from behind, forcing him to his knees. The others began their search, a systematic dismantling of his privacy. He struggled against their grip, but their strength was overwhelming.
"Stop this foolishness at once!" Kakashi commanded, but his words were lost in the determined efficiency of their search.
The boy darted into his own room and pointed towards a corner of the ceiling.
"Check there! I'm sure he hid it there!"
Kakashi watched in disbelief as a guard pried open a section of the ceiling, revealing a hidden compartment. He produced a parcel, carefully unwrapping it.
"It's the holy sword," the guard announced, his voice ringing with the gravity of the discovery.
"I always knew he was a thief," a middle-aged man muttered, his words laced with self-satisfied certainty.
.
.
.
"I'm telling the truth! I didn't do it!!!" Kakashi screamed, his voice raw with desperation, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
His hands and feet were bound to a steel post in the town square, exposed to the judgmental stares of the villagers. He looked at them, his eyes pleading for a single voice of support, a flicker of doubt, but they all turned away, their faces impassive masks.
Shock rippled through him. His body trembled. He had cared for these people, worked tirelessly to improve their lives, and now, none would speak up for him.
It wasn't their fault, he realized. The only person who had stood by him was now bound beside him, awaiting the same fate. He turned to the girl, her striking blue hair cascading over her face, obscuring her features. It felt like his fault she was about to die.
Who was he kidding? Of course, it was his fault. The girl betrothed to him, the girl he loved, was about to be killed because of him.
She remained silent throughout his frantic pleas, her stillness a stark contrast to his desperate struggle.
His stepbrother, a man Kakashi had once considered family, addressed the crowd.
"My good people, this traitor attempted to steal something precious to us—the holy sword," the man declared, his voice booming across the square. "The holy sword, Kyushu, was a gift from God, a weapon to banish evil. They have tainted its holiness with their sins. What do you suggest we do to them?!"
"Come on! What are we waiting for?!"
"Burn the thief!"
"Kill him!"
The villagers' cries rose in a cacophony, their voices a wave of condemnation. The executioner, his face impassive, approached.
He leaned close to Kakashi, his voice a venomous whisper.
"Tell me, how does it feel? It must hurt to have your own people betray you," he chuckled, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction. "It must suck to be you right now. All it took was a few gold coins to change their minds. But don't worry, I'll get my money back when I finally take your place. I pity your soon-to-be wife, who blindly followed you to her death. She could have been happier with me, but thanks to you, she'll die the same way your parents and siblings did."
"Damn you, bastard!!!" Kakashi roared, his rage a final, desperate act of defiance. He bit his stepbrother's ear clean off.
The man screamed, clutching his bleeding ear. "Ahhh…you stinking bastard! How dare you?! What are you waiting for?! Burn him! Burn him now!!"
The executioner, seizing the moment, tossed a flaming torch at the stake, engulfing Kakashi in flames.
Kakashi struggled, the fire searing his flesh.
"Please! Listen to me! I didn't do it! I was set up!" he pleaded, his voice hoarse with pain and desperation. But his cries were swallowed by the flames and the roar of the crowd. His pain morphed into rage. "I'll never forgive you for this! I'll make you pay! You'll regret this! Mark my words, I'll kill every single one of you!!!"
His breathing grew ragged, his lungs burning. He fought for air, his screams choked by smoke. He looked at Aya.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the crackling flames. It wasn't enough that he was burning for a crime he didn't commit; adding her to this was unforgivable. "I'm sorry, Aya. I dragged you into this."
Aya, her face still hidden, nodded silently. She didn't scream, didn't plead, didn't move. Her quiet acceptance only increased his guilt.
He managed to free one hand, reaching for her, desperate to touch her, to hold her chin, to tell her he loved her. Aya finally raised her head, her face partly obscured by her hair. His hand, scorched and blistered, brushed against her cheek, already marred by the flames.
"I…believe…you…" she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips. Her eyes were closed, tears tracing paths through the soot on her face. "I…still believe you."
Tears streamed down Kakashi's face, mingling with the sweat and soot. He was finally able to break free from his bonds, but his body was too ravaged to escape, and he wouldn't leave Aya. He staggered towards her, his movements slow and agonizing, embracing her in a final, desperate hug.
"Don't worry, it's going to be fine," he whispered, but as he looked down at her, his tears evaporating in the intense heat, he saw the stark reality. Aya was already dead.