day two was medieval au..it got a bit dark..

basic background: oikawa's father was some high-and-mighty demon, so he's passed on the Demon King title to oikawa..and now he's fighting the demon half of him, who wants to take control of the whole body..and sends him these super vivid visions that poison his mind and the only way he can keep control of his body is to vent them to iwaizumi. yeah. there's also an impending battle but it doesn't really play a big part in the fic haha

. . .

Iwaizumi doesn't know how Oikawa can do this, day after day after day.

He can see the exhaustion at the corners of the king's eyes, the way he slouches on the warped throne when no one's looking. The meals Iwaizumi brings are left untouched, while the day-old rolls always end up missing in the middle of the night. More times than not, when he comes into the luxurious rooms that make up the king's chambers, there's no one there.

Today, as he stares at the perfectly made bed, seems to be his own breaking point.

He turns heel, striding down the hallway, past cowering minions and skulking demonspawn. None of them have the backbone to do more than glare at him; he can feel their eyes following him as he swings into the side staircase. That's more than fine.

Iwaizumi didn't come here for them.

His steps echo up the cold stone steps. Iwaizumi traces their path, winding up the tight spirals. If there's anywhere he'd be, if not the war cabinet, which was dispanded for today, or the library, anywhere...He reaches the top of the staircase, a stout wooden door securely set into the wall. It requires a bit of coaxing—namely, a few choice curses and his entire body weight thrown against it—but it does open, swinging outwards to a narrow pathway, on the edge of the castle: grey stone again, stacking up to high walls, defenses for the eventual battle. There's a solitary figure leaning against the parapet, looking outwards at the lands beyond, curled horns set onto his head, black cape billowing.

Just like he thought.

"Oi, dumbass, what are you doing?" He sees Oikawa flinch, and he takes a step towards the man. "It's not time for the battle yet."

"Really, Iwa-chan? I could've sworn that I saw armies in the distance." Oikawa sounds a bit off, and Iwaizumi frowns, stepping closer.

"Hey, Oikawa, are you okay?" He finally reaches the demon king, and raises a hand to put on his shoulder. Oikawa stiffens, turning away, and Iwaizumi stops, frozen.

After a moment, Oikawa sighs, shaking his head. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"Alright." Iwaizumi leans on the wall, scrutinizing his face. "About what?"

He smiles, the crooked one that sends a pang through Iwaizumi's chest. "Do you really need to know?"

Iwaizumi huffs. "Oikawa. I'm your knight. I'm supposed to be the one you can talk to."

"Fine, fine." Oikawa ducks his head, and turns to the side, wrapping his arms around himself. He's shaking, Iwaizumi realizes, belatedly.

"Sometimes," he starts, staring out at the wastelands that stretch outwards. "Sometimes, I think of how easy it would be to just step—right over these stones, out onto the air."

He draws in a sharp breath, unable to stop it. "Oikawa…"

"Of course, it wouldn't have any effect." The king continues, bitterness seeping into his speech. "A grand king like me can't get killed by something as silly as a 150-foot drop."

The king turns to look at him, and Iwaizumi feels ice spreading through his body. His eyes have no life left in them.

He hadn't known that it would be this bad again, so soon.

"So?" There's an edge to his words. "Do you want to hear the rest?"

"Go on, dumbass." Iwaizumi crosses his arms. "I'm not going anywhere until you say it all."

"Everything?" Oikawa whispers, holding his gaze. "Are you sure?"

He sighs. "Oikawa…"

"I think of knives." Matter of fact. Barring the trembling, which has gotten stronger, Oikawa might as well be talking about the weather. "Sinking them deep into bodies, watching the skin split and blood seep into the ground. I think of setting villages on fire, people burning, screaming, begging for mercy."

"Go on," Iwaizumi croaks. Oikawa takes in a shuddering breath, still locked eyes with him.

"Pillaging Castle Versi. Mother dies; a sword, through her back. The blood spills out onto the courtyard." Another breath. His mask is crumbling. "Little Tobio, running around with his little friend, downed by arrows. The cat boys from Nekoma, shaking with pain, their familiars disembowled. Whole forests, rotten with blackness and dark magic. And I—"

"It's alright, Oikawa," Iwaizumi says, and it's like the dam that breaks him. Oikawa's face crumples up, and he has barely enough time to react when the king collapses to the ground, wrapping his arms around him. "It's alright. That's enough."

"I hate this." Iwaizumi can barely hear him, but the venom is clear behind the words. He feels Oikawa bury his face in his chest, chanting over and over. "I hate it, I hate it, I hate it I hate it—"

"I hate it too, dumbass." He hates this constant tug-and-pull, how the blood running through his friend's veins compels him to succumb to these moods. He hates how Oikawa has been forced into this role, this sham that his father has twisted Oikawa to play along with. "You haven't done any of those things yet."

"But I could." Oikawa hisses. "I could. I have the power, and my father—"

"But you don't." Iwaizumi holds him tighter, wishing that he could do more than just hold onto his best friend like this. "You understand? You're going to think these things, but they're just thoughts. They won't happen."

"How do you know?"

"Because I won't let you." Iwaizumi lets go, and Oikawa looks up at him, teary-eyed already.

"Promise?"

Iwaizumi leans down, pressing his lips to Oikawa's forehead. "I promise," he whispers against his skin. "So stop crying."

"Who said I was?" There's definitely a waver in Oikawa's voice, and Iwaizumi hears him sniffling. "You're the one who's crying, Iwa-chan."

He feels relief course over him. Iwaizumi sits back, and Oikawa does the same. "You're the one being whiny. It's alright to cry, you know."

"But you just said to stop crying. Are you lying to me, Iwaizumi Hajime?" As much as he tries to hide it, Iwaizumi notices the corners of the king's mouth turn up. "You know, it's not very befitting if my right-hand knight is lying to his king. I could exile you for that."

"Like you'd do that," Iwaizumi scoffs, getting to his feet. "Besides, this was just a detour. I need to go and yell at some demonspawn. They forgot to bury their leftovers, and now it's stinking up the entire West Wing."

"Ooh, a detour all the way to the opposite side of the castle, hm?" Oikawa grins at him, getting up as well. "How dedicated. You really must hate demonspawn."

"Shut up, Trash-kawa." He makes his way towards the door.

"Thank you." Iwaizumi stops. "I don't deserve this."

He glances back; Oikawa's not looking at him again. He sighs. "Oikawa. You're not perfect, but I don't mind patching you up on your rough days."

"You know, if you don't want to be here, you can always leave. I'd let you leave."

Iwaizumi sighs. "Oikawa, I'm not leaving. I'll be wherever you are. Besides—" he opens the wooden door, turning back to face him, "—who else would keep you human?"

He sees a faint smile on Oikawa's face, before the king flips his cape, facing him again. "Touche, Iwa-chan. But you know, I'm still half-demon spawn."

"And I'm still your knight," Iwaizumi calls back. "Whether you like it or not."

"Oh," Oikawa purrs, a smirk sliding onto his face. "I like it very much."

Iwaizumi shakes his head, raising a hand in farewell, as he heads down the stairs again.

Well, now he has to find those demonspawn.