#I wanted to think about how things would be if misaki still stayed at homra as in canon and saruhiko who ventures off to scepter 4

[ridiasfangirlings]

What if the boys were able to realize their feelings and confess before joining HOMRA? So when they do join, they are already in an established relationship? How would that affect things down the line?

The messy break up would be even more of a literal messy break up :D Imagine Fushimi and Yata start dating in middle school, like maybe when they move out Yata straight-up confesses his love, awkwardly admitting that he thinks Fushimi is really cool and handsome and he just wants to stay with Fushimi forever. Fushimi obviously has never done this whole relationship thing before and isn’t sure how to handle it, but he just lets Yata’s words sink in with a nod and they move in together. Fushimi maybe even manages to give Yata something of a reply, the words ‘I love you’ aren’t exactly in his vocabulary (especially at this point) but he gives this little ‘me too…about Misaki’ and Yata’s eyes shine because he realizes this is as close as Fushimi gets to an actual confession. Things are great for about two weeks or so until the jungle surprise party happens and everything goes sideways, imagine afterward the two of them cuddling in Yata’s bunk because they’re both so shaken by the experience and Yata was so scared that Fushimi was going to die, and meanwhile all Fushimi can think is will Misaki still love him now that he’s failed.

So then when they join Homra imagine maybe Yata’s even initially a little hesitant to admit their relationship due to the whole masculinity thing, worried that people in Homra won’t like that he and Fushimi are a couple. Totsuka notices right away though and happily asks Yata if he and Saru-kun are dating, Yata goes bright red and is like ah um well that’s while Fushimi just clicks his tongue and mutters yes. Totsuka thinks that’s nice and Yata relaxes, happy that their relationship is accepted, and meanwhile all Fushimi can think is that Yata must have been embarrassed by the whole thing, that Yata didn’t want his hero Mikoto thinking that he was dating someone as useless as Fushimi. I imagine things being a bit strained between them but Yata doesn’t entirely notice, like I think Yata would be trying maybe a little more to make time for Fushimi here (they go on dates, they kiss and cuddle and Yata’s still being all openly affectionate) but Fushimi is still silently pulling away because he probably feels it even more keenly here, the way Yata looks at Mikoto and talks about Homra. I imagine Fushimi convincing himself that Yata doesn’t even want to date him anymore, that Yata just doesn’t want to make things awkward since they’re still living together and in his head the two of them are probably not even actually dating now, all while Yata thinks things are fine and they’re both still in love and Fushimi’s just getting used to things in Homra.

When the betrayal happens I imagine it gets framed by Fushimi as both a breakup and a betrayal, like just imagine Fushimi laughing and claiming that he never loved Yata anyway and how stupid Yata was for believing it. Poor Yata is now heartbroken in more ways than just losing a friendship, not understanding how things went so wrong when he thought they were fine and in love (so basically the literal version of what Gora said once in an interview about Yata and Fushimi being a married couple where the wife asks for a divorce and the husband thinks ‘but we were doing well weren’t we’). I imagine in this AU that post-betrayal Fushimi is sure to use their former relationship as a cudgel against Yata whenever he gets the chance, like the ‘virgin’ jokes are probably more frequent even if he possibly knows in this AU that Yata is not, in fact, a virgin. Yata is even more torn here too because he wants to hate Fushimi for breaking his heart but he’s also kinda aware that he’s never stopped being in love with Fushimi and no matter what he tries to do he can’t make himself hate Fushimi entirely. Fushimi meanwhile is still in love with Yata too but he probably isn’t even aware of it, like he doesn’t have enough emotional maturity to recognize this as love but he knows that his heart beats fast every time he sees Yata’s face and that just makes him even more determined to make Yata hate him, so that he can make this feeling stop already. 

[sarumint]

little personality swap doodles

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

Bright as Red

Pairing: Yata Misaki x reader

Description: Reader is left on the streets in a severe situation, being found by Totsuka Tatara, who gets to himself the responsability to help and heal the girl in HOMRA's headquarters. When she wakes up, she's led by the wanting to seek for revenge, going after who's hurt her.

Warnings: only a couple of swears.

Word count: 1,868.

A/N: yeah, I did something 🙈 I’ve been going through a nostalgic time and so this idea came to me.

Totsuka Tatara had found her in the streets, tossed in an alley like a ragged doll, her school uniform a bloody mess. She had hair by her shoulders that covered her face while Totsuka brought her inside HOMRA’s headquarters in his arms, her arms and legs hanging freely.

“What is this?” Asked Kusanagi Izumo, the second in command, horrified at the sight.

“I found her like this in an alley nearby. She’s unconscious,” answered Totsuka.

“And you had to bring her here?” Said Kusanagi in annoyance.

“What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe get her to the damn hospital?”

“She’s hurt, Izumo. I… I couldn’t leave her. Look at her. She looks so helpless.”

Yata Misaki saw everything from the couch, eyes wide open in curiosity. Kusanagi took a deep breath.

“We’re not a charity.”

“Please…” Totsuka pleaded, stopped by the hearing of someone’s footsteps. His eyes laid upon his King, who watched silently the scene before him. His amber eyes said enough.

“Tatara…” Kusanagi begin saying, but Suoh Mikoto cut him off.

“I know. Come,” said the King to Totsuka, who followed him. “You can put her in your room,” his deep voice said without any emotion. “Mind to explain yourself?”

Totsuka repeated the story he told Kusanagi while Mikoto sat at the edge of the bed, observing the young and injured girl.

“Give me one reason to accept this situation,” Mikoto said.

Totsuka said without even stopping to think:

“It’s the right thing to do. You helped me, now I want to help her. Who’s the monster who’d hurt a girl in such ways?”

Mikoto took a deep and lazy breath and got up from the bed, tapping Totsuka’s shoulder before saying:

“She’s your responsibility. I don't want her around for too much time. She’s not one of us.”

Totsuka shook his head one time in acceptance and sat by the girl’s side after Mikoto left.

“Don’t worry, girl. I’ll take care of you, and soon enough you’ll be all patched up and new.”

***

Yata avoided the girl’s room - well, actually Totsuka’s room - all he could. Even though she couldn’t see him or as far as he knew, hear him, she still made him nervous. He only saw her three times, when Totsuka had asked him to help with her recovery.

The situation was pretty bad, he imagined. She was there for five days already and hadn’t moved since. Everyone thought that maybe she was close to death when found by Totsuka, but what did they know, right?

Yata helped Totsuka while he patched up her wounds and ran away when Totsuka motioned to change her dirty, bloody clothes with clean ones. They were Yata’s clothes, since him and the girl were close in height. He didn’t mind giving his clothes to her, although this idea made all his blood go up to his cheeks.

Kushina Anna would often be by the girl’s side, only watching her as her chest went up and down as she breathed.

“She’s a little red,” Yata heard the little girl say to Kusanagi, who just slipped her a glass of juice through the balcony.

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you think Mikoto will let her stay with us?” She sounded hopeful.

“I don’t know, Anna.”

“Totsuka-san had been telling her about us. Do you think she can hear?” Yata said, a little bothered.

“Maybe. Who knows. Want a soda, Yata-chan?” Kusanagi asked.

“Yeah, alright,” Yata slid on the barstool next to Anna. “What do you think of her?” He asked while sipping.

“I like her,” was all the little girl said. Yata wondered whether Anna had read the girl’s thoughts or not, or if even she had any thoughts while being unconscious.

“Yata-chan, would you go check on the girl? Tatara left to buy some more things that he needs.”

“Me? Why…?”

Yata was cut off by a tough look of Kusanagi and immediately went to Totsuka’s room.

He took a look at her bandages, but they all seemed alright. Since he felt the room very much silent, he leaned over her, trying to see if she was breathing. With his index finger placed under her nostrils he felt the weak air.

For some external forces he kept there, watching her face as she breathed silently. She was young, but seemed to be his age. Wondering what had happened to her, Yata gently poked the dark bruise on her temple, apparently causing her to open her eyes in a shot.

She screamed when she saw the boy figure so close to her, touching her temple. Yata screamed in response, scared with her scream. So fast that he couldn’t imagine how she did it, she got the metal tray that contained clean bandages and pointed at him. Yata fell on the floor on his ass and started pushing himself backwards until his back reached the wall.

“Who are you? Where am I?” She started asking desperately.

“Kusanagi-san!” Yata called for the second in command.

“What is this place? Who the fuck are you?” She asked more desperately.

“Kusanagi-san!” Yata screamed louder.

The door flew wide open and Kusanagi entered in a storm, only to stop calmly when he saw the girl.

“Oh, so you’re finally awake.”

“Where am I? Who are you?” She asked again, still pointing the metal tray to Yata.

“Why are you still pointing this to me?” The boy asked, getting up.

“My name is Kusanagi Izumo. I’m the second in command of HOMRA. And you are?” He was calm, standing a hand to the girl in an offer.

“Why am I here?”

“My friend saved you. He found you in an alley, almost dead. Do you remember any of that?”

The girl dropped the metal tray on the floor, causing an annoyed sound. She touched her injured temple, frowning.

“Unfortunately,” she finally said, hate consuming her eyes.

“The red,” said a small voice.

Anna was hidden behind Kusanagi, only peaking at the girl.

“What red? I don’t see anything…” Yata complained, scratching his head.

“How are you feeling?” Kusanagi asked.

“Where’s your friend?”

“He left, but he should be back at any time. How are you feeling?”

The girl’s eyes went straight to Yata, examining him and therefore embarrassing him.

“I’m okay. A bit tired.”

“Any pain?”

She nodded negatively.

“Wanna eat anything?”

As in response, her stomach growled. She turned her head, cheeks red.

“No need to be shy. Come, eat something,” Kusanagi pointed his head towards the door.

The girl hesitated, but Anna went straight to her, grabbing her hand and pushing her gently. Yata was the one to leave for last, sitting on the couch and giving some looks at the girl while she ate.

Totsuka Tatara finally arrived, making the room to be all noisy with his excited voice.

“You’re awake! Hi! I’m Totsuka Tatara, and you are?”

He left all his bags to fall on the floor to sit next to her, who seemed to be a little scared by all the sudden attention.

“Calm down, Tatara, you’re scaring her,” Kusanagi said.

Totsuka had the brightest and biggest smile on his face when he apologized. The girl took a moment to finally say:

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I was told you’re the one who helped me. Thank you,” her voice was weak, and before Yata could tell, she was crying, her shoulders trembling. “Thank you,” she repeated. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

Everyone in the bar didn’t know what to do, except for Totsuka, who gently grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he also had a gentle smile on his lips. The girl grabbed his shirt and leaned over it, soaking the cloth with her tears. Totsuka hugged her, tapping her shoulder blades. “There, there. It’s over now. You’re okay.”

“No,” she screamed in desperation. No one seemed to notice that Mikoto had gotten to the place. “It’s not over. It’s not over until he’s alive. He won’t give up until I’m dead too.”

“Who?” Totsuka asked carefully.

“He’s disgusting. I hate him. I hate him I hate him I hate him,” Y/N had her hands closed in a tight fist, causing her nails to open her palms and blood drip on the wooden floor.

“Hey, stop it!” Yata exclaimed. When the girl looked at him, he stuttered. “You’re hurting yourself.”

Y/N suddenly took notice of Suoh Mikoto, the Red King. She knew who he was, not because Kusanagi told her while she was eating, but because she heard around. Everyone knew who the red-haired man before her was. And she pretty damn well knew what he did.

She ran towards him, falling on her knees, bowing.

“Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to be healed here. Thank you, Red King.”

Mikoto kept eyeing the girl at his feet, not saying a word. It was impossible to even imagine what was passing through his mind.

“I ask only one thing, if you allow me,” Y/N said.

“What is it?” His deep voice said in return, serious.

“I have nothing. I have no one but myself. I have no purpose but to seek my revenge. Please, let me serve you as a payment for all you did. I’ll do so willingly, Red King.”

Everyone stood in shock at their places as they watched the scene. Yata’s heart was racing.

“Mikoto…” Kusanagi said before red flames engulfed Suoh Mikoto.

His eyes shone.

“Do you really intend it, little girl?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” Y/N’s voice didn’t tremble as she looked up to Mikoto. “I meant every word I said. I’ll follow you loyally, anywhere you need me.”

“Is that so…?” Mikoto had a half smile, offering his hand to her, flames still engulfing him.

She’s gonna shake his hand, Yata thought.

Y/N stared at the flames, curiously, no fear in her eyes. She grabbed Mikoto’s hand, shaking once.

His red flames engulfed her as well, all of her body. This is so hot, she thought. A specific part of her body burned the most, but it wasn’t a hurtful burn; it was a good burn. She bit her lips to prevent the smile.

Once the flames were over, she felt it. Lifting the shirt that she had on - not before Yata turned his head, cheeks burning red -, she stared at the red mark on her left ribs, touching it with the tip of her fingers, amazed.

She looked up to Mikoto, placing a hand on her heart as she bowed a little, saying:

“My king.”

He shook his head once and went to the bar, being served by Kusanagi.

“This demands a celebration!” The bartender said, giving her a rootbeer float. “Here, finish your food. You need to recover your strength.”

But before sitting on the barstool, Y/N went to Totsuka Tatara.

“Thank you, Totsuka-san. I’ll be forever grateful that you saved my life.”

“I’m glad I did so,” he answered.

Y/N also shot a small smile at Yata, who had his cheeks immediately burning in red, looking away from her.

Y/N sat beside her King and started eating, gaining all the strength she needed to pursue her revenge.

[kmorelikegay]

wheels of fate

It had been Misaki, of all people, to insist on the deep blue wheelchair.

(Or, selected moments from Saruhiko and Misaki's life together after Saruhiko is seriously injured.)

A fic with the worst title in recorded history, written for @sarumifest 2019, day 8: Free day. Also on Ao3.

It had been Misaki, of all people, to insist on the deep blue wheelchair.

Saruhiko hadn’t cared, had maybe even been leaning toward red (call him a masochist, but he had wanted it to hurt a little, a constant reminder of how he’d almost lost everything – and also, maybe, he associated red with good memories and life and – )

Misaki, though, had insisted, and so here he was, freshly discharged from the hospital and blinking in the too-bright sunlight. It’s Thursday morning, and Misaki should be working at his part-time job at the bookstore near Homra (the irony of which isn’t lost on either of them), but instead he’s here, proudly wheeling Saruhiko out the glass front doors of the building where he’s spent the better part of a month, and Saruhiko can feel his smile even facing the opposite direction.

It’s contagious, and he allows himself a small grin despite the residual aches in his body. They are moving back in together, after all.

~

The day of the accident had been excruciating, both emotionally and physically.

Saruhiko is reluctant to even call it an accident, since his actions had been backed by deep and unhesitating purpose. When he threw himself between Misaki and what had turned out to be three bullets coming his way he was driven by the need to repent, to prove himself worthy of Misaki’s time and love, but mostly by desperation to protect.

The bullets, shot from the weapon concealed from their combined clans by a violent and powerful post-Slate Strain until it was too late, would have hit Misaki somewhere around his stomach and lower chest. It would likely have been fatal. In the moment, Saruhiko had calculated this, made the assessment that three bullets to his lower back (due to their height difference) would be far better than three to Misaki’s midsection, and this cold logic had almost been enough to distract from the near-paralyzing fear he’d felt when he recognized what had been about to occur.

They had been hanging out more since the destruction of the Slate, talking and gaming and rebuilding, even opened a joint savings account they’ve both been depositing into whenever they can, even talked about getting a place together. The warmth that flooded him when he was around Misaki had never faltered, just changed shape over the years, through their friendship and separation and reconciliation, so Saruhiko is familiar enough with what it means when his chest tightens up and his fingers tremble at the mere thought of Misaki’s smile, to say nothing of its physical presence. Their relationship is different this time around, and so the warmth has shifted a little bit again, but mostly it’s intensified, spread through his entire being until sometimes when Misaki’s around he quite literally cannot see or feel anything other than him.

He has lived with that feeling for the better part of his life; he doesn’t know what he’d do without it. That was the thought racing through his mind as he shielded Misaki’s body with his own, his momentum throwing them both to the ground where he’d cupped the back of Misaki’s head in one hand to cushion it. Just as he calculated, two bullets hit his lower back as he fell, one on each side of his spine and the other in his left thigh.

He doesn’t remember much after that – he’d confirmed Misaki’s safety, the relief from his assessment temporarily cushioning the pain of his condition, and then mostly what he remembers is Misaki’s panicked cries and the pain in his back. (He later learned he’d also broken the fingers of one hand from the impact of Misaki’s head, but that couldn’t have mattered to him less – Misaki was safe, Misaki was alive, Misaki was still warm and bright and red.)

As he’d laid on the sun-heated asphalt in a pain-induced daze, his view of the sun blocked every so often by the desperate bustle around him and by Misaki’s figure and Misaki’s fingers wrapped tight around one of his hands, he slowly started to accept another realization: he had been shot once in the leg, but couldn’t feel any pain radiating from that wound.

He figures the others figured it out at some point, when they tried to lift him and his legs proved to be no help at all, but some time later (minutes or hours or weeks, Saruhiko hadn’t known how much time passed) when they arrived at the hospital (Misaki always at his side, that he does remember), the prognosis had become clear: at least temporary paralysis from the waist down, with possibility of recovery through an ambitious new physical therapy program.

With possibility of permanency, in other words.

Saruhiko had stared at the doctor after he was told this, not feeling one way or another about it, still nearly numb with relief at Misaki’s safety even days after the injury. Misaki, though, had broken down, sobs wracking his exhausted body as he collapsed over Saruhiko’s chest on his hospital bed. For the first time, he had thought beyond his in-the-moment justifications of his actions to how Misaki must feel: his best friend paralyzed from saving him, and he must be blaming himself.

Saruhiko had wrapped his arms around Misaki’s heaving body, then, wrapped trembling fingers around his jaw to force eye contact, and told him, “Don’t,” with all the feeling he could muster, “blame yourself.” Misaki had teared up even more, Saruhiko’s fingers trying to catch his tears as they fell, and they had laid like that for hours or eons, processing and reflecting and bathing in each other.

Saruhiko thinks later that that’s the longest they’ve ever continuously touched each other, and again finds it difficult to regret what he had done.

~

Misaki stayed with him at the hospital for every moment of the first two weeks he’s there. He has to go back to work after that, but he doesn’t stop visiting, comes by every afternoon he can and always brings a co-op game for them to try or a new dish he’s testing out (“since you must be sick of hospital food, Saruhiko”). They still touch a lot, mostly initiated by Misaki, as if he needs to reach out and touch to confirm Saruhiko is really there every few seconds or else he might disappear.

Saruhiko knows how he feels, wants to do the same but is prevented from following through by the ever-present insecurity in the back of his mind telling him his touch isn’t wanted. This feeling is being slowly quieted, however, the more Misaki shows up, the more he stays, the more they touch, the more he insists they move in together when Saruhiko is released, the more Saruhiko catches him staring out the wide hospital window at the city far below with something quiet and melancholy and regretful and fond and determined in his eyes.

~

Misaki doesn’t stop visiting him after he’s released from the hospital. They do move back in together, find a place midway between their workplaces, a two-bedroom with reasonable rent and all the utilities except for Internet included. There’s no washer or dryer in the unit but neither of them particularly care, too wrapped up in excitement and each other to give a damn about walking a couple blocks to the coin-operated laundromat.

It’s amazing, if Saruhiko’s honest (which he is trying to be, at least to Misaki – he deserves that much, after all he’s put him through), but it doesn’t end there. Misaki comes to Scepter 4 at least a couple times a week now, bringing him lunch or sodas to share or sometimes just news about his day – some customer talked back to him and he gave them the what-for, and boisterous stories like that. Saruhiko grows to depend on those visits. They give him strength to get through the day, help him do his job without snapping at everyone who stares at his wheelchair, make him fall so much fucking harder for Misaki than he even thought was possible.

Half their clan members think they’ve started dating. The other half thinks they have been for years. Saruhiko finds himself wishing they were right every time he sees Misaki smile.

~

He had been baffled, at first, why Munakata would possibly want a paralyzed clan member on his special forces squad.

He’d assumed, when he’d recovered enough from the pain and drugs to assume anything, that he would be slowly phased out of Scepter 4 and encouraged to find more appropriate work either outside the special police or elsewhere altogether. When he’d brought it up to Munakata, however, during one of his several visits to the hospital, the Captain had looked as close to surprised as Saruhiko had ever seen him look before calmly explaining that Saruhiko would be expected to return to his regular duties, with field time obviously reduced as appropriate, assuming he desired such a thing. He did, of course, just hadn’t wanted to ask for it and especially hadn’t wanted to be a burden, but Munakata says it like it’s obvious, like it’s logical, and so Saruhiko finds himself with another reason to make his recovery as quick as possible.

(When he’d revealed this insecurity to Misaki – well, more like his friend had forced it out of him, but semantics – Misaki had also looked surprised, but recovered quickly to spout his usual, “But you’re amazing, Saruhiko!” He’d been so sincere, eyes so bright, that Saruhiko had almost believed him, and either way he’d been too busy trying to keep the color off his cheeks to respond.)

His second day back (after a somewhat miserable first day of accepting condolences, glaring at stares, and answering questions), there’s an attack on the Scepter 4 mainframe by an unknown foreign source. Munakata requests he take command of a small team to secure the mainframe and track and neutralize the breach, and so Saruhiko is immediately able to put his skills to use again. He feels more validated at work after that, as if he’s still actually useful. If he felt like admitting it (which he doesn’t), he might even be thankful his mental state is improving now thanks to the people around him, because dealing with half-body paralysis even a year ago might have done him in.

(He thinks of Misaki’s smile again, and immediately feels better. That dumb face must be better than any pain killer his doctor could give him for it to make him feel this way, this much.)

~

Misaki has been acting a little…strange, since they moved back in together.

Sometimes he helps with Saruhiko’s morning routine, which has become somewhat longer since the injury. Saruhiko doesn’t really need help but never says this out loud because Misaki helping mostly involves a lot of touching – from supporting him as he rolls out of bed and into his wheelchair, to wrestling with sweaters and pants as he helps dress him. Every time they touch or make eye contact Misaki will freeze, stare, turn red with embarrassment (or could it be…?). He never runs, though, like Saruhiko probably would if his legs still obeyed him, just lets the moment swallow them both.

He doesn’t know what it means but seeing Misaki make faces like that just for him…it definitely isn’t bad. He thinks he could get used to it, even addicted, if Misaki doesn’t stop.

~

He had never realized how naturally wheelchair-friendly the Homra bar was until…yeah.

He visits Misaki there now, sometimes, when he has a day off and feels well enough to roll the few blocks to his old clan headquarters. The front door is right at street level, and the strip of wood on the floor supporting the base of the door is low enough he barely even feels the bump as he rolls over it. (Scepter 4, between its size and the sheer number of stairs connecting its different divisions, was decidedly not wheelchair friendly, something he’d obviously taken for granted before.) Homra, by contrast, is almost nice, almost makes him feel like nothing is different about him since he can get around the bar nearly as easily as if he could walk.

The atmosphere itself, too, is less uncomfortable than he thinks it should be, given everything he put everyone there through. Kusanagi, he thinks, probably understands why he did what he did, probably even knows of his…feelings for Misaki. It had really been Anna he’d been worried about – though she probably understands those things too, he thought she would have a far more difficult time forgiving him for how much he hurt Misaki.

On his fifth or so visit to the bar – enough visits in he’s started to lose count of the number – Misaki is running a little late, kept for an hour or so of overtime at the bookstore, and Anna is the only one there, sitting on the couch immortalized in Saruhiko’s memory as the one that supported Suoh Mikoto’s weight as he napped. He had been about to turn around and wait outside, but Anna had gestured to the empty spot across the table from the couch, and Saruhiko had reluctantly rolled over.

Their conversation had been short but poignant: Anna asking how he was feeling, if anything still hurt, and giving him knowing looks when he lied and said everything was healed even though he knew she hadn’t just been referring to his recent injury. Her pointed, unsettling gaze had forced a quiet apology out of him – an apology for hurting Misaki, mostly, but also for waiting so long to apologize in the first place. She had stared at him some more, then reached out for his hand to unclench it from the arm of his wheelchair and take it in both of hers. “It’s alright,” she’d told him. “Saruhiko hurt Misaki, but Saruhiko was hurting because of Misaki, too.” She was right, but he’d never considered he wasn’t the only one in the wrong, and to hear it laid out so simply by a child had been a little jarring. She had added something about how they were rebuilding their relationship now and so wasn’t it all worth it in the end just as Misaki had stumbled in, breathless and sweaty from having run from work, but snippets from their discussion echoed in Saruhiko’s brain for days afterward.

Visiting Homra, in short, becomes a comfortable part of his routine – if you subtract Kusanagi’s knowing gazes at the two of them and the fact that even the more idiotic members clearly know more than they should about their relationship.

~

Misaki has been trying to teach him skateboarding tricks. It’s cute to see him try to figure out how to adapt the tricks he knows to a wheelchair. Misaki’s thinking face has always been cute, and seeing that combined with the sweat-slicked hair sticking to that face tends to do things to Saruhiko’s chest.

Misaki mostly fails, most of the tricks lost in translation (or in technology?) between his board and Saruhiko’s chair, but Saruhiko leaves the skatepark after their second or third attempt knowing how to do a wheelie on both his back and front wheels (“we’ll try the side ones next time, Saruhiko!”), and even if he hadn’t, Misaki’s blinding smile was worth the sweat and embarrassment.

~

They stumble back in from the skatepark grinning, Misaki wheeling him into their first-floor apartment and kicking the door closed behind them. Saruhiko can’t keep the smile off his face, a rare thing for him (though more and more common these days), and it’s still plastered to his face stubbornly when Misaki goes to help lift him off the chair and into a kitchen stool, arms under Saruhiko’s armpits to support him and Saruhiko’s arms around his waist. Except when he’s sitting there on the stool, arms still wrapped around Misaki and legs parted to accommodate him, Misaki doesn’t move like usual, doesn’t look away, doesn’t stop smiling, just lets his lips slip into something softer and impossibly fond and even before he whispers his name Saruhiko already can’t breathe. His hands tighten reflexively on Misaki’s hips, grasping for dear life and breath coming in warm pants as Misaki’s eyes drop to watch his mouth for a moment before leaning in.

Their eyes meet, Misaki closer than he’s maybe ever been, and there’s a question there, one that’s almost impossible for Saruhiko to process given what he knows about himself, and it’s there all the same, and his answer is clear. He says Misaki’s name, too, almost against the smaller man’s mouth, and leans down the close all but an inch of the remaining distance between them.

Misaki, as Misaki does, takes care of the rest, and from there Saruhiko’s heart outpaces any of Misaki’s skateboarding tricks.

His lips are warm and a little salty-damp from sweat, and they taste like history and home in Saruhiko’s mouth, which parts to let Misaki’s questing tongue inside. Misaki wouldn’t be Misaki if that didn’t embarrass him, though, and he pulls back a moment later, panting and flushed and if Saruhiko wasn’t equal parts turned on and fucking in love before then he is now. Misaki’s taken care of everything else; he isn’t going to let him beat him to a confession this time.

“Misaki,” he starts, voice much shakier and gruff than he’d like, and then realizes he has no idea what to say, how to convey how much he’s feeling. Misaki’s no help at all, his fingers tracing Saruhiko’s jawline and making their way to his lips, all the time wearing an impossibly loving smile that Saruhiko really doesn’t know what to do with.

He’s willing to try, though – for Misaki, it’s been proven by now, he would do anything. “Misaki – “ tell him, tell him – “Misaki, I…I want – this, want you…I’ve always – ”

Misaki kisses him again before he can finish, and Saruhiko groans into his mouth, grasping at Misaki’s shoulders and hair, weaving fingers into the red locks and holding on as he kisses him like he means it because he’s never meant anything more. It’s his tongue that seeks out Misaki’s lips this time, and Misaki accommodates him, gasping out half-finished confessions between partings of their mouths, and they pour love into each other like that for long seconds, minutes, eons.

By the time they part Saruhiko feels like he might explode – and, god, more parts of him than one agree; he’s so hard he could come just from thinking – and it gets even worse when he sees everything he’s feeling reflected back at him from Misaki’s tender gaze. Misaki’s fingers are around his neck, tracing the lines of it down to his chest, and while Saruhiko’s distracted with that Misaki manages a quiet but fervent, “I‘m in love with you, Saruhiko.”

Saruhiko’s fingers clench at Misaki’s hips again, and he drops his head to rest against Misaki’s as they stare at each other. He has never felt so much. Knowing it is shared is almost enough to completely fucking break him. He had never dared to think, never expected, never hoped, and yet here Misaki is, telling him he’s been loved since the beginning, and Saruhiko’s at a total loss. What do you say to someone who’s stood by you, saved you more times than they know, made and remade you and made you fall in love everyday for the better part of your life?

Saruhiko doesn’t know. Maybe no one does. His answer lies in action, and so he breathes in Misaki’s air, holds him so close their shared body heat has nowhere to escape, and presses their mouths together again softly.

When they part again, Saruhiko finds the breath to say, “Me, too,” and then “Misaki,” and then they’re lost in the press of lips and tongue again and there’s no breath left for anything else. 

He hadn’t known this much feeling was possible for one person. He never wants it to stop.

(Some time later, Misaki, hands questing down toward his hips, pulls back from their kiss just far enough to ask, “So, when they say ‘paralyzed from the waist down,’ does that mean…?” His blush does nothing to cover his pointed glance down Saruhiko’s body, and Saruhiko gasps as the implication registers, yanking Misaki’s mouth back to his before suggesting he find out for himself.)

(The next time Misaki visits him at Scepter 4, he surprises him with a pointed but soft kiss on the lips before handing over his bento. Saruhiko can’t even be annoyed at the clapping and congratulations that follows him around the rest of the day.

If he believed in useless things like fate, he would maybe think he and Misaki were meant to be.)

[mel-animeland]

Back in March, I wrote a post for the “Squad” OWLS tour, the prompt was about friendship and as support for the topic, I decide to go with the anime and manga series, Seraph of the End (Owari no Serafu). I decided focus the post on Guren to show what one can do for their friend(s), even if they shouldn’t be friend with them in first place.

I have to say, I really enjoyed writing this post, not only cause I love the series, but also because of what Guren was ready to do for his friend, in fact, more I was writing the post, more I was liking him and seeing him under a new light (I still have trouble to fully trust him tho)

I was almost done with the post when I thought of and other series I could have used for the March tour. The series I was thinking about, portrayed a really different kind of friendship than seen in Seraph of the End.

The series I’m thinking about is K-Project, the focus would have been on the relation between Fushimi and Yata. The more I was thinking Fushimi and Yata, the more I wanted to write about what happened between them and why their friendship ended the way it ended.

K-Project also simply known as K is an original anime series, produced by the studio GoHand (Hand Shakers), counting two seasons and a movie (starting from July 2018, seven other movies will be release) different manga and light novel. The first season, aired from October 2012 to December 2012, the second season title K: Return of Kings aired from October 2015 to December 2015. The movie was released between the two seasons in July 2014. To know more about the K franchise, you can visit the Wikia fan page. This post gonna be mainly based on the information found in the manga “Lost Small World” which follow the story of Fushimi and Yata from before they joined Homra until they part away.

GoRa

The manga gonna get a movie adaptation that will be presented in -Japanese – theaters on October 6th (from all the K Seven Stories coming out it’s the one I’m looking forward the most.)

After talking about it with my really good friend Zel from ARCHI-ANIME, she said that I should still write a post about it and since I’m a really good friend, I’m listening to her.

So here we are, after a long introduction, my thought on the relationship between Fushimi and Yata.

** As always the post will or might contains spoilers **

************

What do we know about the relation between Fushimi and Yata, if we only take in consideration the anime series?

On one side, Fushimi seems quite enjoying pissing-off Yata and on the other Yata thinki Fushimi is traitor and cannot be trusted (which is not too far from the true since Fushimi left/defected the Red Clan to join a rival clan).

This is what we can understand from the anime, of course thing change a little bit between them toward the end of the second season, but for the most of the series Fushimi is seen teasing Yata and Yata reply with his flame.

This is what the series show us, however, there was a time where both were really close friend, they were what we would call best friend.

So why they aren’t best friend anymore? Why Fushimi left, betray, the Red Clan and Yata for the Blue Clan and Munataka?

First off, you need to know their friendship didn’t had a solid foundation since the beginning, the reason why Fushimi and Yata became friend is because the former was craving for attention and the latter was giving him this attention. Between you and me, this doesn’t make a really solid base, cause soon as one or the other change their surroundings, thing stop being the way they were before. In the present case, when Yata and Fushimi joined the Red Clan (I have to say Yata was way more thrilled about it than Fushimi), Yata got a new group of friend, new interests. Yata always been the friendly type, an idiot that need a lot of explanation, but he was always friendly with a kind of child’s innocence. Fushimi never really find his place in the Red Clan, it wasn’t his idea and always thought they were better off without them, they didn’t need those rascal in their life. More days they were passing with the Red Clan furthers was drifting away Yata from Fushimi, Yata fitted in the group and he was always in adoration in front of the Red King, Suoh Mikoto, the very cool blazing king. This adoration Fushimi was once the object, he was slowly losing him, this attention he craved so much for wasn’t his anymore.

Fushimi needed it, he needed to be noticed, acknowledged. He needed someone to look at him like if he was the coolest guy of Japan, the smartest of the planet. He needed because no one in his family never gave him. His mom was always more interested in her company than in her son well-being, Fushimi always referred to “This man wife” when talking about his mother and for her he was only “Niki’s son”

His father, Fushimi Niki, wasn’t better, in fact he was worse than her, he was barely at home and when he was, he was making sure to torment his son. Niki was an intelligent man coming from a wealthy family, but alas money and intelligence doesn’t make him a competent father. If he named his son Saruhiko it’s because the first time he saw him not long after his son birth, Niki said that he was ugly and looked like a monkey (Saru means monkey in japanese) just to tell you how he was seeing his son (and as a really good mom, Saruhiko’s mother just laugh telling her husband he was right).

I can give you a more concrete example of how twisted his father was.

One day little Saruhiko was examining an anthill, for a school project, he was fascinated by it. Seeing how much his son was enjoying watching the anthill, Niki decide to pour fuel in it and set it on fire in front of his toddler son…great father right. I can also tell you about that one time little Saruhiko wanted to race against his father to solve a Rubik’ Cube, Saruhiko finished quickly and look at his father proud of himself thinking his father would have done the race with him, however, Niki never solved the cube puzzle instead he waited for his son to finish his cube, looked at him and break the cube apart while smiling.

Niki always took pleasure in destroying what Saruhiko cared about.

Little Saruhiko learnt the hard way that everything that he loved can be destroyed.

His family was clearly dysfunctional, he never really had friend, how one can develop social aptitude when he is ignored or psychological tortured by the people who should have taught him how to socialize with the people around him, his parents. Saruhiko was relief when his father died, Saruhiko go see him at the hospital, he screamed his anger at the corpse. Yata had to stop him cause he was about to go out of control. That was the effect Niki had on his son. Even after his death, he was still tormenting Saruhiko. He was still seeing him in his dreams (nightmare is more appropriate), he was hallucinating him, he even saw him through his smartphone (until Munataka come in and hinted Saruhiko his phone had a virus, virus sent by Aya his cousin)

His familial background made him asocial, preferring the company of computer than human being, during his middle school days, Fushimi was passing more time locked in the toilet stall with his own computer program than in class. And that is where he met Yata. (no wonder their relation became like shit…)

Yata Misaki didn’t really have a great life either before Fushimi, but it was still better than his friend. While he didn’t came from a wealthy family, he came from a loving one, his mother was remarried, but his step-sibling loved him and he was a caring big brother. Yata always been pretty friendly and easy-going, however he was also not the smartest tool of the shed. He state it himself, he is an idiot that need to have thing repeated and explained to him more than once before he get it. This also made him a little bit naive, there is time that people pretend to be his friend for later just throw him away, which affect him. He might have come from a pretty normal family, but Yata was still looking for friends he could trust and a place where he could belong.

He found the first when he met Fushimi in the bathroom stall of their school (fanfic material here) Fushimi was playing a game involving calculation and Yata was pretty amazed about that Starting from there, they boy start to hang out together and eventually they became best friend, they were always together and they both decide to not go in high-school, they found a place to live, not a great place, but it was their place, a place where they both belong, where they talk, talk about taking over the world.

Thing could have stayed like that and their friendship would have remained unchanged, however one day they cross the path of the Red Clan and his King, Mikoto and few days laters That Yata had to beg the Red King to protect his best friend. This day Yata wanted to find a way to be able to not rely on other, he wanted to be stronger, that is why he reach the Red Clan, and Fushimi just tag along. To this day, I still have the feeling Yata never really planned to join the clan, but after receiving the Homra mark, he felt like he finally had found that place he had been looking for.

Quickly, Yata made friend with the other member of the group. While Yata was making his place within the Red Clan, Fushimi looked from afar wondering why Mikoto was so incredible, not only he was slowly losing the attention Yata was giving him, but for the other clan member, Fushimi didn’t had something special, they wasn’t acknowledging for what he could to, Fushimi didn’t had any purpose within the Red Clan. Fushimi never felt like he was belonging to this place, a place where his best friend was happy, where he could be happy with him he doubted that he was at the right place, the Homra sign on his chest was painful which shouldn’t normally be and he was scared of Mikoto. Yata and Fushimi was slowly drifting apart, and thing become harder for the old friend.

Fushimi realize that Yata wasn’t the same anymore, at least in his eyes, when the latter stopped being there for him. Fushimi is not the type who would open up easily, so if he need to talk about so matter, like the scary hallucinations he had of his deceased father, his friend should have been ready to listen to him, however it wasn’t the case, Yata was more busy talking about how awesome the Red Clan and Mikoto was than paying attention to Fushimi, he never realized once the one he used to call best friend needed him to be by side. Of course Fushimi always wanted to monopolize Yata attention that what he needed since he never had it before.

Yata always lacked of discernment not being able to read the mood, now don’t get me wrong I don’t blame Yata for what happened between them, Fushimi was also in the wrong for not trying to talk more to him, Fushimi knew how Yata was, he was already like that when they were in middle school. Yata Misaki always been a little bit pushy, no matter how many time Fushimi tried to push him away, the chestnut-haired boy always came back without taking in consideration how Fushimi was feeling, Yata is not the type to listen other. despite the fact that at first Fushimi was annoyed by that, slowly he came to accept Yata presence and stop to push the one who will become his best friend away. Fushimi knew Yata wasn’t able to read the situation however there was time his friend could figure out what was going on with is own process of thinking and there was time he hit the middle of the target. The one time Fushimi had wished Yata would get by himself that his friend needed his help, Yata didn’t and I think it affected Fushimi more than he let it appear. However Fushimi being Fushimi, he said nothing to make himself to be understood and pushed Yata away one last time, thinking he didn’t need him anymore. Fushimi was bitter, Yata wasn’t the one he use to be, they weren’t talking about taking over the world anymore, Yata was all about Homra a group where Fushimi didn’t fit in, a group where Fushimi never tried to fit in. Yata is surely not the only one to blame for what happened between them, Fushimi also have his part of responsibilities for not speaking earlier to Yata, for not telling him how he felt.

By pushing Yata away, Fushimi didn’t had anything to tie him back to the Red Clan, plus Munataka, the Blue King saw the potential the young man had and offer him to join his clan instead. At first Fushimi wasn’t sure of the choice he should make, however he saw in the Blue clan something he needed, something the Red clan didn’t gave him, acknowledgement. Munataka would give Fushimi a reason to use his skill and purpose in life a d place where he could belong. All the thing Mikoto and the Red clan could give to Fushimi, Munataka and the Blue clan would give it to him.

As you can guess, Yata didn’t welcome the news with his usual cheerful attitude and it didn’t took long for him to call the one who was his best friend a traitor. Fushimi burned the mark he had on the chest mocking Yata and his pride.

Fushimi and Yata friendship was probably bound to be broken, it didn’t have a stable foundation like communication or mutual understanding, both were polar opposite. While Fushimi never missed a chance to piss-off Yata, in the end he still cared about his old friend and former clan, finding information for them. The one of the thing Fushimi was scared of, was to become like his father, however Yata told him that it will never happen since Fushimi had something his father, Niki, didn’t had, a conscience and in his “ book he was straight up guy”

I know my title include the words broken friendship, however while their friendship was indeed broken for some years, in the end they made up and start a new  when Fushimi finally decide to talk to Yata about what happened

  Friendship are important in a person life, friend are there when the family is not, they are there to support you, this is why they need to be chosen and once you get them you need to nourish this friendship and make sure it never wither.

It wasn’t an OWLS post, but it could have been one, hope you enjoyed the read, cause I really enjoyed writing it.

Once again thank to my fabulous friend Zel for pushing me to write this post.

~ Thank you for Reading ~

The Tale of a Broken Friendship Between a Monkey and a Crow Back in March, I wrote a post for the “Squad” OWLS tour, the prompt was about friendship and as support for the topic, I decide to go with the anime and manga series, …

[mistleto-3]

Awakening: Part 6

When another crisis looms, Mikoto has to learn to navigate a world of Kings as a regular man.

AU in which Mikoto and Tatara survived the Colourless King incident.

Pairing: Mikoto/Tatara

2,010 words. CW for canon-typical violence, mentions of depression and other mental health issues.

Previous part | All parts | Next part

AO3 | Ko-Fi

“GET OUT HOODLUMS!”

The words were graffitied across the doors and windows of Bar Homra in red spray paint. It had been about a week since Homra had started to reform, and already the backlash had flared dramatically. Whispers had started to bubble between clansmen that Jungle might be behind getting the news out so quickly and orchestrating the harassment – they seemed to have an impossible amount of influence amongst the general population, and nobody would have been surprised if they had marked Bar Homra as a target. They just didn’t have any proof for it yet.

“Damn it, again?!” Rikio cried in frustration as he and a few other clansmen arrived at the bar and were greeted by the crude inscriptions. “Throwing stones, and graffiti; they broke the pipes so there’s no water; they put up papers with insults about Homra all around the city, and when they put an erotic photo on Yata-san’s back he almost became incapacitated…” He broke off his rant with a sigh of exasperation as Misaki shot him a glare.

Already, it had been deemed unsafe for Mikoto, Tatara and Anna to stay in their usual home above the bar, and Izumo had arranged for them to stay in a hotel for the time being until they could be sure it was safe. Mikoto had protested at first, but it was clear he was relieved – as much as everyone believed in Anna’s ability as a new-born King, they worried what might happen if they were attacked in the night. Besides, without running water, the place wasn’t really liveable anymore anyway.

“Kusanagi-san also said that Homra’s customers already received threats, those we socialise with flinch away. Already, reopening the bar would be…” Shouhei trailed off as he and the others entered the building, not wanting to speak the uncomfortable truth that everyone seemed to be thinking.

“Damn! If Mikoto-san was still King, they wouldn’t make fun of us like this!” Misaki caught himself as soon as the sentence had slipped out of his mouth, and he bit his tongue, glancing at Anna remorsefully, who was sitting by the bar eating a bowl of soup. The conversation moved on around Misaki before he had a chance to correct himself, and he hit his forehead with the palm of his hand with a click of his tongue, then went to take a seat beside Anna.

“S-sorry…” he mumbled, and Anna turned to look at him, her wide eyes expressionless.

When she didn’t respond, he continued: “I-I was just thinking… Mikoto-san was strong, extremely dangerous, and absolute. Everyone feared and admired him; following his back without wavering had been enough to make us happy. Within that space, I had always been able to do anything… but I never thought about what Mikoto-san was thinking. Totsuka-san said he nearly died because the burden was too much. So I don’t wish for Mikoto-san to still be King, I just miss how easy everything seemed back then...” He spoke quietly, despite the fact that nobody else was in earshot, and the words came out as a sort of garbled rush, as he couldn’t quite stem the flow of rambling once it had started.

“…Maybe things would not have turned out like this if it had been Mikoto,” Anna replied, equally quietly.

“Hey, Anna…” Misaki’s fists clenched remorsefully; it should have been obvious that she was worried about not living up to his legacy, and it was a bone-headed thing for him to say. “Is it okay if I tell you something a little pathetic?”

She nodded.

“I am… kinda stupid…” he confessed, and tried not to act too offended when Anna once again nodded.

“Ahh… because I’m stupid, I fail even if I give my best, and I don’t really understand other people. I probably don’t understand a thing about Mikoto-san either… I hate being left by people without me ever understanding them. Because I’m stupid, you have to tell me, or else I won’t understand, so Anna, if there is something you want to do or don’t want to do or want to have done then tell me, whenever you want!”

She smiled softly. “Okay.”

At that point, Tatara took a seat the opposite side of Anna, and Misaki’s head dropped, unsure of how much he’d overheard.

“What I think Misaki is trying to say is that he thinks you’re going to be a great King. But people outside of Homra haven’t quite gotten that message yet.”

“Y-yeah! I wanna help you, because you’re my King. It doesn’t matter if you’re not Mikoto-san – those assholes just don’t know you’re just as great as him. They underestimate you and they think you’re just a little girl, but they’re gonna learn the hard way!” Misaki suddenly seemed fired up, and he put his hand on Anna’s shoulder encouragingly, his eyes brimming with optimism.

Tatara smiled at his expression, then turned to Anna: “Kusanagi-san says he wants to speak to you upstairs.” Over the past week, Izumo and Tatara had led the operation to find out who was carrying out the assault on Homra, so Misaki suspected it had something to do with that. “Yata-chan, you should probably come too – you’re Homra’s vanguard.”

Perked up by the inclusion, Misaki followed Tatara and Anna upstairs to the study above the bar where Izumo had been working. When the three of them arrived, they found Izumo staring intently at a laptop while Mikoto sat nearby, half paying attention. At the sound of the door opening, Izumo spun on his seat to face everyone. He waited for the door to close behind them before speaking.

“Based on the intel we’ve obtained, the culprits’ objective is this: a few groups who hold a grudge against Homra say they won’t allow our revival, and temporarily joined forces.”

“So it’s not Jungle?” Tatara asked.

“Nah, thankfully it’s smaller-scale than that. Even if these groups don’t go as far as dirtyin’ their hands, they’re tryin’ to make it seem it’s best if we give up like this, as it’d also help those groups. Their means of cornerin’ us ain’t bad; all things considered, it’s difficult for Homra to stay in Shizume City. They’ll show that nothin’ good will come from bein’ involved with us, and we’ll be isolated.”

Misaki’s face fell. “They really hate us, huh?”

“There are several organisations which we hold friendly relations with who told me that they’ll maintain those. After that, we have to settle things and regain our honour. Investigations are going on – I’ve been in touch with an informant who reckons she has some solid info, and she’s willin’ to talk to us, so you should go down there and see what she knows, Yata-chan.” As Izumo spoke, he pulled out his phone to send the address to Misaki.

“I won’t let ya down!” Misaki declared, then promptly hurried from the room.

“Once we’ve got all the info, we’ll start makin’ plans for a counterattack. Everyone on the same page?”

Mikoto and Tatara nodded in agreement, but Anna remained silent.

“Anna, are you alright?” Tatara asked.

“I want to think by myself for a little while,” she said quietly.

“Okay, don’t go far.”

Anna nodded, then got to her feet and headed for the door. Mikoto let out a sigh as she left, which was the first hint of emotion he’d shown all afternoon. The tension in his neck betrayed how much he hated her being out of sight after what had happened last week. Tatara lay his hand on top of Mikoto’s in an attempt to comfort him as they watched her leave.  

True to her word, Anna didn’t wander far from the bar – barely a few streets before she reached a bridge where it was quiet and there weren’t many people around. There, she stopped to look out over the water, but she didn’t take in the sight.

Mikoto had been a King just by being there – people kept saying that under his leadership, nobody would have dared attack Homra. But she was just a little girl, not even a teenager yet – who would be intimidated by that?

“I am so small… Can I even do anything?” she found herself murmuring out loud.

But she was dragged from her thoughts by a shadow lingering too close behind her – the figure of a man. She turned to see who it was, but before she could get a good look at his face, his hands were on her wrists, unshakeable. She struggled against his grip, looking around frantically for aid, but the streets either side of her were empty, and the rough, sweaty skin of her assailant’s palm was over her mouth before she had a chance to cry for help. She continued to flail, kicking out at him, attempting to claw at his fingers, but she wasn’t strong enough to loosen his grip. It didn’t even occur to her to use her aura. It had never really been powerful enough for her to use it for fighting before, and in her panic, she barely remembered they existed at all.

Within seconds, her eyes were covered with strips of fabric and her wrists were bound, and she felt herself being carried and haphazardly dumped in the back of a vehicle, probably a van by the sounds of it. Her first reaction in her panic wasn’t to be afraid for herself though, oddly enough. Instead, she was more worried for her family. What would Mikoto think, that he hadn’t protected her? What would Tatara and Izumo and Rikio and Misaki do when they heard she’d been kidnapped for the second time in as many weeks? What would her clansmen think? Most of them already had their doubts, and there was no question that Mikoto would never have let this happen to him.

What kind of a King am I? she thought as the door slammed shut.

When Misaki arrived at the address he’d been given, he was greeted by a middle-aged woman with curly hair tied behind her back – a regular informant of Homra’s. What he hadn’t been expecting was that Masaomi and Yo were already there.

“Oh, Yata-chan, come in~!”

“Y-you guys! What are you doing here?!”

Yo looked sheepish. “W-what, you ask…”

Masaomi continued the sentence for him. “We heard there were some strange attacks on Homra…”

The woman chimed in: “These two came in here with extremely scary faces, you know. They said they wanted information on the groups cornering Homra. I already located a few of the meeting points those groups use, but Kusanagi-chan asked for those, so I can’t really tell these two~.” She paused and seized Masaomi by the arm. “Though Dewa is to my liking, so I hesitated a bit.”

“Ha?!” Yo seemed affronted by her stage-whispered confession.

“Hmm… going to people outside of Homra, huh? Are you saying it would be a pain to come back?” Misaki glanced between the two fellow clansmen with a seething frustration, and the two once again looked admonished, saying nothing in their own defence.

“Chitose,” Yata continued.

“What?”

“Earlier you said that Anna is not like Mikoto-san for you, right?”

Yo paused, seeming suspicious. “Yeah…?”

“For me it’s the same. It’s obvious… I mean, Anna isn’t Mikoto-san. Anna is Anna. The way I admire Mikoto-san, and how I wanted to work under his command, it’s not like that. But I want to support Anna and protect her with all of my strength.” He straightened up as he spoke, and there was a look of recognition in the faces of his friends, as though what he’d said had resonated with them.

However, before they could reply, a notification chimed from Misaki’s watch, and he excused himself to glance down at the screen. “Sorry, a message…”

Misaki didn’t recognise the number. He opened the photo attachment.

If the brat is important to you then get out of Shizume City. The caption went alongside a photograph of Anna, her wrists bound, her eyes covered, and the muzzle of a gun pressed to her temple.

[scepterofstardust]

sever and mend.

Hi everybody, it’s me again! It’s been so long since I’ve posted any substantial writing, but I’m back for Sarumi Fest because how could I resist the opportunity to write more of Saruhiko and Misaki? I really adore writing them because their dynamic is so interesting, so I was excited to write these prompts for you guys. Anyways, I’ll stop talking, this is for Day 1. Enjoy :)

External: AO3

Saruhiko had never really thought that he would have to watch Misaki from afar.

After all, they spent years attached at the hip. Years of spending more time at Misaki's house than his, and then sleeping in the bottom bunk, only having to walk into the kitchen to see Misaki standing at the stove making dinner. He had taken that for granted, maybe, a little too much. 

It was all gone, now. And yes, it was Saruhiko's fault; he wasn't ignorant to that fact. But he missed it anyhow.

And he wished, with all of his mangled and confused heart, that he could be close to him again. Just for a day, even.

He beat himself up for making that wish, as he leaned against Reisi's car, looking down from the top of the hill. His coat was hardly warm enough for the January weather, and he could hear Misaki's voice in his head, lamenting the fact that he never took care of his health. Saruhiko shook his head and ground his jaw.

He hadn't wanted to come anywhere near this place. But the Blue King, with his dark circles and watery eyes, had looked like he would collapse any second, and so Fushimi had gotten in the car with him. He had been unwilling to go any closer than this, than the top of the graveyard far from the burial site. He could see the funeral procession in the distance, figures in black like a murder of crows against the snow on the ground. He could see Misaki right away, of course. He could tell it was him, shivering in his black coat, head bowed, holding Anna in his arms as they both cried. Saruhiko swallowed against the lump in his throat, and he wanted to be there, he wanted to stand next to Misaki and be able to help him. But he knew he couldn't.

Knew that Misaki would probably shove him away, now. For all that he had done. 

Knew that he had lost that right.

Saruhiko tore his gaze away from Misaki and turned towards the driver's seat as his King got out. Reisi walked around and paused beside Saruhiko.

"Are you sure?" Saruhiko didn't have to clarify what he was asking. He lifted his chin, beckoning Reisi to get on with it. It earned him a thin, amused smile. The Blue King began the long walk towards the burial site, down winding roads and lots of steps. Saruhiko watched him go, noting that the funeral procession was dissipating. He couldn't blame Reisi for not wanting to face them. He certainly would never fault him for it. 

Saruhiko blew out a breath and opened the passenger's side door, unable to stand in the cold anymore. He settled in and closed his eyes to wait.

"I'd make a comment about sleeping on the job," Reisi said when he got into the car, "but we aren't." Saruhiko jolted in his seat, raising his head.

"Sorry," he muttered. He hadn't realized how tired he was. Reisi started the car and glanced in the rearview mirror.

"I didn't say I didn't approve," Reisi amended. "I'm afraid that would be the pot calling the kettle black." Saruhiko didn't bother protesting. He knew how observant the Blue King was. Even when he himself had seen better days, he wouldn't fail to notice Saruhiko stumbling into doors and frequently having lapses in memory. He wasn't an insomniac, rather, he was just worried. He was worried for Misaki, and if he felt like admitting it for Reisi as well, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't dream about the Red King, dream about his hand being engulfed in flame and the pain. Even though he was gone.

He had a lot of demons chasing him, it seemed. But that wasn't anything new.  Reisi pulled away from the curb, staying silent the rest of the drive.

When Saruhiko saw Misaki next, it was spring. He'd been coerced into going to get more coffee and sandwiches for the others, as they were all working late shifts and beyond exhausted from a busy week. He ordered from the scrawled list in his hand and moved out of the way, leaning on the wall to wait. He looked around the small shop, noting its occupants. Lots of students with their laptops and headphones, probably studying. A few adults with their newspapers. His eyes landed on a booth by the window, and his breath hitched. 

Misaki had an empty plate in front of him, his head resting against the wall. He was staring numbly out the window, his headphones in his ears. 

Saruhiko tensed up, an old habit, wanting to run or start a fight. But Misaki didn't see him, of course. He was relieved that he hadn't. Misaki looked peaceful, with the setting sun casting a golden glow across his face and illuminating amber eyes. A half empty soda was at his elbow. It reminded Saruhiko of their middle school days. They used to hang out in cafes just like this one. He found himself wishing that he could just stride over, could just sit down across from Misaki and have a conversation. He wished it could happen just like that. He could imagine Misaki grinning at him, snickering because Saruhiko had been roped into running errands again.

Saruhiko tilted his head, paying closer attention. Misaki looked better than when he had last seen him. Less breakable. Less grief-stricken. More like himself. Saruhiko caught himself smiling, just a little bit. It was good, that Misaki was healing. Even if he couldn't be there.

The girl behind the counter called out his order number, and he sobered, taking it from her and exiting the shop quickly. He went back to Scepter Four headquarters, back to the dark offices, but he remembered the sight of Misaki alone, the spring sun making him a living flame. 

It was summer when Saruhiko walked past the HOMRA bar. He was sweaty, and sticky, and grumpy. He loathed the heat. It made him miserable, and he always felt like he was about to spontaneously melt into a puddle. Hence, the reason why he stayed indoors. 

Usually, he turned to take a detour around the bar, not wanting an awkward encounter with any of its occupants. But he had been too distracted to do so. So he walked fast, head down. He had almost made it when the door flew open behind him, bell jangling. He heard a voice from inside the bar yell something about troublesome kids, and Saruhiko fought a smirk. Kusanagi didn't seem to have changed one bit. He heard footsteps, and a shout of pain.

"Alright, I get it!" Misaki groaned as he stepped outside. "I'm going!" Saruhiko stiffened and picked up his pace.

"Damn right you are!"

"Ah, fuck off," Misaki muttered under his breath. Saruhiko snorted.

"What was that?!" Kusanagi's voice went up another octave, if that was even possible.

"Nothing. Going." There was the flat thud of a skateboard hitting the cement, and Saruhiko ducked his head, praying he wouldn't be seen. He didn't have the energy to put up a front right now.

"Saru?" Misaki called out hesitantly. Saruhiko cursed quietly and turned, head lulling sideways. He allowed his stare to turn icy, a small smirk to play on his mouth.

"Just passing through, Misaki. No need to burn down the whole block just yet." 

Misaki rolled his eyes, and Saruhiko couldn't help noticing how different he looked. Older. Stronger than the uncontrollable wildfire Saruhiko had left behind. But yet, some things hadn't changed. He still wore the same tank top and shorts ensemble as always, still had the same skateboard underneath his foot. Still had the same tousled red hair, headphones around his neck.

"Wasn't planning on it," Misaki retorted, snapping his foot down and grabbing his skateboard, hugging it against his side. "Were you?"

"No, too much paperwork," Saruhiko replied, doing his best to hide his trepidation as Misaki strode up to him, squinting in the sunlight.

"I thought I was imagining things," Misaki admitted. "I've never seen you here."

"I must've taken a wrong turn."

"Must've." Misaki shifted his weight awkwardly.

"You know...you don't have to avoid us like the plague," he said quietly. "You don't have to avoid...me."

"Since when?" Saruhiko questioned incredulously. 

"Since...now." Misaki said, certainty in his eyes.

"And you're had this touching revelation because?" Saruhiko didn't believe what he was hearing. Misaki looked down at his shoes before he met Saruhiko's gaze again.

"I just, um..." The inky haired boy stared at him expectantly. "It's just that, after we lost Mikoto, um..." Misaki sighed, rubbing at his temple. "I've been thinking."

"Oh dear," Saruhiko commented flatly.

"Shut up, Saru, I'm serious."

"As you always are." Saruhiko's smirk was a little more real this time.

"Aish, you're annoying. All I'm saying, is that people aren't around forever, you know." Saruhiko's amused expression dissipated.

Of that, he was very aware.

"No, they're not."

"Right, so..." Misaki trailed off, scratching the back of his neck, and was his face getting red? "So, we lose people and I..." The redhead visibly gulped. "I don't want to lose you, too."

Saruhiko didn't anticipate the sudden stinging behind his eyes, the unbearable tightness in his throat. He tried his best to harden his expression, to hide.

Haven't you already?

"What?" It came out more shocked than he meant it to.

"Look, Saru, just..." Misaki shook his head with a small smile. "Maybe stop in sometime, is all I'm saying. If you want to. Okay?" Saruhiko could do nothing but stare dumbfounded as Misaki walked past him and continued down the street.

 He was frozen in place, and he stood there for several moments, wondering if the heat had caused him to hallucinate.

It took him five minutes to remember where he had been going. It took a week to decide he hadn't imagined it. It took a month before he walked by the bar again, and timidly waved to a little girl with scarlet eyes sitting in the window. It took a vicious fight, his knuckles sliced open and a cut from a blade on his cheekbone, before he opened the door, bell jingling above his head, and sat down wearily across from his best friend. And even as he took the soda Misaki slid across the table, it felt unreal. That he was this close.

That maybe, things were changing.

(Misaki's smile was real enough for him, though. For now.) 

[rose-and-the-crow]

The Red King Lives on! Feat Allisan Sheer. (Just for fun)

((Some one was kind enough to give me this idea. Thank you so much for giving me this idea and now, with out further adue..))

The sky light up with a deep red color as the rest of Homra watched in horror from the safety of the other side of the lake that separated Shizume city from the school island.

Yata Misaki, Homra’s vanguard, broke through the crowd and watched the sky line with tears threatening to fall as he scanned the sky line for some sort of lie, hoping that his King, Mikoto Suoh was alright some how.

There’s no way that one person could give off that much aura and still be alive Yata thought as he shook his head in horror, not wanting it to be true.

However, on the island it was a whole different story.

Across the lake, Mikoto had let out just enough of his Aura to give the allusion that he was now dead.

He knew it would break little Anna’s heart that he wasn’t there anymore but he had to make sure for himself that Adolf K Wiesmann was really and truly dead. 

Mikoto picked himself up off the floor and limped past Munakata.

“That was a good fight, we should do that again sometime” Mikoto told him in his normal drawl as he lit a cigarette.

Munakata only pushed his glasses back up on his nose before he looked at Mikoto.

“Next time you should think before you go blaming others for something they never did” Munakata sneered.

“I never said anything” Mikoto sneered “It was you that started this when you had the lead on the kid” Mikoto told him.

Munakata only flicked his hair out of his eyes and sheathed his sword as he turned around.

“You’re doing the wrong thing Mikoto” Munakata told him “You should at least tell the rest that you’re alright, even little Anna”

“She’s none of your concern, neither is anyone else for that matter” Mikoto sneered at him.

“Just remember” Munakata starts “That Allisan of yours will soon be mine”  he says before he takes off.

“Their’s no way she would ever let him take her from us” Mikoto says as he shakes his head and turns away, taking a long draw from his cigarette and walking on with his hands in his pockets.

First he had to make a different identity for himself and how he was going to do that, he had no idea.

Mikoto just kept walking along the lake side until he heard the faint cries of his clan members from the other side.

How desperately did he want to tell them that he was alright, he wanted to make sure that Allisan Sheer was alright too, seeing as she had a heart defect and she would be worried sick about him.

He told himself to stay strong. For her and for the others.

Mikoto limped along until he found somewhere that he could change his name. Changing it to Diachi Fuchimoto he looked at his new information and sort of smiled a bit.

“Now, something about this hair has to go” Mikoto said to himself. Thinking he could go back to how he looked in teens he quickly turned that thought down because, seeing as Kusanagi had known him back then, he would be able to tell it was him right off the bat.

And, as much as he trusted Kusanagi to keep his secret, he still couldn’t risk it.

“Looks like I’ll have to go clean shaven” he said, but only a little white cat was around to ever hear it.

Mikoto wandered around till he found a salon and walked in it’s doors, telling them what he wanted done with (as a friend of mine calls it) the hedgehog that sat on top of his head.

About a half hour later Mikoto sat in front of the mirror, the hedgehog on the floor around the chair.

He grumbled a thank you as he paid and walked out the door.

“Now, were should I start to look for the pest?” he asked as he watched the care free birds fly over his head.

BACK IN THE BAR~~~~

Allisan Sheer sat on the couch in the bar, staring at the table in front of her as Anna came up to her.

“I know I should let go of the past and just accept that he’s gone” Allisan told herself as she watched Anna work with her marbles.

“No one wants to go through that, But that’s what happens in a color gang like this” Yata told her as he sat on the couch across from her.

Allisan looked at him through her red bangs/fringe and frowned.

“How are you so accepting of this, Yata? Didn’t you look up to Mikoto the most?” she asked.

“Of course I did” Yata countered. “I’ve just seen to many people leave before anyway, so I’m used to it” he said as he held her piercing green gaze.

Alli only shook her head and looked out the window behind her, half hoping that Mikoto would show his face any second now.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Yata’a right.” The young bartender told them all. “The sooner we accept that Mikoto is gone then the better it’ll be on all of us” Kusanagi said.

“I don’t think he’s really gone though” Allisan protested as she stood up and shook her head firmly.

Anna, Yata and Kusanagi all exchanged glances before they all sighed.

“-And I’m going to look for him” Allisan said and before anyone could stop her she was out the door, jumping down the bar steps and taking off in a full on run.

“Follow her. She’ll listen to you.” Kusanagi demanded to Yata. The Vanguard nodded quickly and took off after her, hopping over the rail outside the bar and some sort of stupid short cut and dropped his skateboard, not wasting any time.

“I just hope she doesn’t push herself to far” Kusanagi said quietly as he looked at a  wide eyed Anna who had hopped up and was watching after Yata in horror.

BACK WITH MIKOTO~~~

“Alli, hang on a second” Mikoto heard Yata’s familiar voice ring out.

“What the hell is she doing now?” Mikoto drawled to himself as he went to try and go see what was going on.

“You know you can’t stop me, Misaki” Allisan called, sounding out of breath,  stopping when she came into Mikoto’s hidden line of sight.

Allisan and Anna seemed to be the only ones you could get away with calling Yata by his first name, Allisan  only because she didn’t make it sound as girly as his name really was, like Chitose and Fushimi.

“Just what the hell makes you think that Mikoto’s alive anyway? We say the Aura of his. The Sword of Damocles came down, Alli” Yata tried to reason.

“But not all the way-”

“That means that the King of that Sword is dead either way, Alli” Yata chokes, almost in tears himself having to have explained this to Allisan.

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Allisan snapped, trying to hide the fact that she was crying herself.

Yata was silent as he took a step backward and looked away from her.

“I’ll let you believe what ever you want, Rose” he said “JUST DON’T COME CRYING TO ME WHEN YOU REALIZE THAT ALL OF US WHERE RIGHT!!!” He yells at her, causing her to wince audibly, meaning that Mikoto heard it from where he stood and watched.

Allisan was never one to give up on someone that easy, she even thought that Fushimi would come back eventually, finally becoming heart broken when she found she was wrong.

Mikoto shook his head and growled at his own softheartedness towards her.

I can’t be thinking about that he thought in disgust I have to focus on that stupid kid, only then can I die peacefully. If they know that I never died until that time then so be it. If they do then they’ll have to deal with it.

Mikoto continued on his way, pulling the collar of his jacket up against the falling snow as he light a cigarette.

Back  with Allisan and Yata, Alli couldn’t control  hersel;f anymore, letting herself fall to her knees in a crying mess for her former King.

“So,” she choked as she regained herself and looked at Yata who was consoling her as best he could “What’s everyone gunna do? They can’t just stay in the bar without a King, can they?” she  asked.

“I have no where else to go” Allisan said.

“I’m sure Kusanagi would let you stay in the bar” Yata said in a soothing tone.

“I don’t want to be a burden to him though” Alli said quietly.

“You asked my advise and I gave it to you” Yata said “I’m going to ask the same thing anyway” the Vanguard tells her as he stood up.

Allisan adjusted herself on her knees, pushing up as well.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here” she said “place gives me the creeps anyway”

“So then why come here, Red?” Yata asked as he pushed off the ground with his skateboard, keeping a slow pace with Allisan.

“You’re the one that stopped me, stupid” Allisan countered.

“If you wouldn’t have run off like that then we wouldn’t even be here” Yata countered right back.

Allisan snickered as she pulled the teens hat over his eyes and took off.

“She’s never gunna learn, is she?” Yata asked himself before he took off after her and playfully cornered her, pinning her to the wall.

Allisan recoiled badly as he did so and looked in his eyes.

“Ok” she told him “You win”

“That’s how it  should remain” Yata told her as he let her go, flying his arm over and around her shoulders as they walked back to the bar.

LIKE WHAT YOU SAW? WANT MORE? LET ME KNOW THROUGH AN ASK PLEASE AND HAVE A GREAT DAY!!!!!

[mikototsu-trash]

There's hardly nothing and I'm a slut for them so hopefully you don't mind headcanon stuff how do you think a confession would go between yatamoto with normal yata and fem!yata?

I know your struggle myguy, I am also a slut for yatamoto, and I am always happy to discuss myheadcanons about them!!

I have written a fic about the beginning oftheir relationship, titled Better, which is basically about Misaki and Rikio realising theirfeelings for one another after Saruhiko leaves Homra, and the support Misakireceives from Rikio makes him realise that his feelings for his friend are alittle more than friendship, but I also think this is only one of the many waysa confession between them could go. 

I think the other most likely way their relationship would beginwould be a very slow progression, both of them sort of crushing hard on oneanother and both of them denying it vehemently to themselves, passing it off asplatonic, possibly with a dash of internalised homophobia on Misaki’s end, and a lot of “oh he’d never like me back in that way” from both of them.They’d spend a lot of time together as friends just the two of them, and they’dbe very close, both physically and emotionally, having an understanding of oneanother that nobody else in Homra could really get close to having been childhood friends, and they do a lot of playful roughhousing and friendly affection that of course is totally friendly yepp they’re just proving that guy friends can totally be affectionate with one another of course it’s nothing else nope. 

Of course, they’d slowly start torealise that the happiness they feel when they’re together and the desire for intimacyand closer contact and dreams and intrusive thoughts about kissing and cuddlingand all that mushy stuff meant that yes, indeed, they do have crushes on eachother. And of course, they’d come to that conclusion separately, without evertelling a soul about it, and then they’d quietly die on the inside about theirrespective unrequited crushes that both of them thinks they’ll never have achance in hell of seeing realised. They’re both idiots, naturally.

Over time though, the friendly affection would evolve until one night while they were drinking together and maybe watching some sports game or playing video games together, one thing would lead to another and somehow they’d go from leaning against each other on the couch to kissing, and both of their hearts would be going a million miles an hour as they couldn’t quite comprehend oh my god this is really happening and when the kiss broke Misaki would be dying with embarrassment, and Rikio would see him bright red and apologise, thinking he’d upset him or pressured him or something, and Misaki would quickly protest and tell him no, don’t be an idiot, I liked it, which would prompt Rikio to quietly and awkwardly ask if he wanted to do it again, and the TV would quickly be forgotten about as they basically spent the rest of the night letting out all the pent-up makeout energy from the past few months and sharing all those kisses they’d been wishing for all that time. They’d end up staying over together, sleeping cuddling all night with the windows open and the air conditioning on the highest setting because they really want to cuddle even though it’s sort of way too hot, and then as one of them prepared to go home the next morning, there’d be the awkward do you want to do that again sometime conversation, probably initiated by Misaki, which Rikio would eagerly agree to, and then confess he’d sort of wanted to do that for a really long time, and Misaki would confess that yeah, so had he, before they kissed each other goodbye. 

Things would continue like that for some time, with both of them dancing around the idea that they’re really together because they’re dorks and they’re still afraid even after the makeouts and the cuddling that the other doesn’t want to Make It Official, until finally after like a month Rikio asks what they are to each other, are they just friends, are they boyfriends, and he admits he’s had a crush on Misaki for a long time and Misaki would agree he’d had a crush for a while as well, and yeah maybe they should admit they’re The Big B word even tho Misaki stutters over saying it for a while, and Rikio can’t quite believe Misaki likes him back because he thought he was way out of his league, but they’re both so happy that they’re like hugging each other and laughing between kisses even if they can’t quite believe it’s happening. 

I’ll put the fem!misaki stuff under a cut bc this post is getting p long

So I don’t imagine things would be too different with Misaki as a girl, because I don’t think Rikio would treat her particularly differently- she’s always been a tomboy and she’s always been able to hold her own amongst the guys. One thing I can see being a little different would be that he’d be a little more hesitant to make the first move- he’d be more concerned about pressuring her and her not wanting him and I think fem!Misaki would be just as vehement about the way people treat women as her male counterpart, so Rikio wouldn’t want to be seen as too forward or disrespectful (of course this is mostly just excuses he’s making for himself to justify his fear of asking her out.) I imagine Misaki would also have some insecurity surrounding the girls that always flock to him in the summer- she has a lot of body image issues, and she’d think Rikio would never want her when he has the pick of all these way more attractive girls.

I think Rikio would also be more cautious because he’d have been under the impression that she and Saruhiko were a couple- they lived together and they were very close and the way their friendship ended was very reminiscent of a breakup, so he wouldn’t want to step on any toes by pushing her into a relationship when she wasn’t ready so soon after a breakup. Once again, I think it’d be Saruhiko leaving that prompted them getting closer- he would do a lot to help her get through it, and they’d spend a lot of time together, probably involving him hugging her a lot when she was upset (to her great embarrassment) and him planning for them to do a lot of things together to keep her mind off it that feel a lot like dates, and she doesn’t want him to think he’s a rebound or anything, but eventually like before things would develop and tension would mount up until they end up kissing and they don’t really remember how it happened but they’re glad it is. 

[ridiasfangirlings]

Yata somehow finds himself back in time as his younger self and it's the day when Fushimi was to make his betrayal and leave Homra. Yata, being from the future post-RoK, now know what made Fushimi leave and what ruined their friendship. Would he change the past?

I feel like Yata would definitely try but I don’t know if it would do him any good, I feel like at that point Fushimi is just not in a headspace to take ‘I still want to be your friend’ from Yata no matter how sincerely Yata tries. Like imagine Yata gets hit by a Strain and finds himself sent back in time. He doesn’t even realize it at first until he gets a text from Totsuka saying that they haven’t seen Fushimi at all today. Yata gets choked up for a moment and then checks the date, realizing with a start that it’s showing years ago. He feels like there’s something about this date that he should know and then he looks at his messages again, where he’s been asking everyone if they’ve seen Saruhiko because a lot of his stuff is missing at the apartment. Yata’s stomach just drops as he realizes exactly what day this is and what’s about to happen. 

Yata knows he really shouldn’t try to change the past, he’s watched movies before after all, but the temptation is so strong — what if he could change just this one small thing, even if he can’t get Fushimi to stay in Homra (and now he knows why that isn’t an option) maybe he could still be Fushimi’s friend and they wouldn’t have missed so many years together. He decides he has to try, he at least has to make an attempt, and he heads to the alley where he knows Fushimi’s waiting. Yata’s demeanor is serious as he asks Fushimi where he’s been and why his stuff is gone, swallowing down all the memories of bitterness and pain, fists still clenching when he sees that twisted smile on Fushimi’s face.

Fushimi starts talking about how he’s going to S4 and how stupid and useless Homra is and rather than getting mad Yata just asks him ‘Saruhiko. Is that how you really feel?’. Fushimi is taken aback by this Misaki who won’t rise to the bait and Yata tries to word it calmly and clearly, that he understands Fushimi feels like he doesn’t belong in Homra and maybe S4 is better for him but they don’t have to break things this way, Fushimi doesn’t have to break them this way. Fushimi’s expression waivers for just a moment and Yata starts to feel hopeful but then Fushimi just laughs in Yata’s face all you don’t know anything at all Misaki, how stupid. Yata starts to respond that he does know but then he closes his mouth, even Yata is smart enough to realize that if he knows things that the Yata of this time wouldn’t know it will immediately put Fushimi on guard. 

Instead he tries to argue that it’s okay, Yata still wants to be his friend, and Fushimi laughs again as he’s like we were never friends. Yata is like you don’t mean that, come on let’s just talk about this rationally and this is where I think Fushimi throws that in his face, that Yata is an idiot who never wants to talk about things and how he needs to start seeing Fushimi as his enemy, and then Fushimi places his burning hand right on his own tattoo. Poor Yata is still horrified by it because I imagine this is still a traumatizing moment for him even in the future, remembering how Fushimi hurt himself, and the desperate smile on Fushimi’s face in response just makes it worse. Fushimi says that even if Yata wants to be friends Fushimi doesn’t, and Fushimi has all the time in the world to teach Yata why Yata should hate him. Yata’s abruptly pulled back to the future after this and maybe that world was even more like a ‘suggestion’ or something, so the past didn’t change anyway, but it’s still a shock to Yata. In a way it helps him too though — realizing that maybe there really was nothing he could have done in that exact moment, that Fushimi was going to do things his way regardless, and that Yata can’t blame only himself for all those years they missed.

[evvazi]

The Goddess of Flames

My last fic for Rarepair Week, for the prompt ‘Colours/Powers’, both prompts because they’re really close together in K.

Pairing: Minoru/Anna

Word Count: 3,545

Warnings: Slight violence

Summary: Minoru gets the scare of his life when a bunch of thugs with superpowers attack him, but thankfully he is saved by a mysterious girl that he sets out to find again.

AO3

It had started as a completely normal day. Getting up early had sucked, school was as boring as ever, but at least he’d had some fun playing catch with his friends in the break and his mother’s packed lunch had been tasty as always. Even in hindsight, there was absolutely nothing that could’ve ticked him off to the fact that he’d meet a goddess today.

Minoru had just said goodbye to the last of his friends and rounded the corner to the quiet street that would lead him home when he saw something flash from the corner of his eyes. He really had no way of knowing what it was, but somehow the sickening green of it made him duck on instinct. As he saw a lightning bolt hit the garden fence next to him, he quietly thanked his reflexes and started running. Whatever this was, it was clearly dangerous and he couldn’t afford to be hit by it. That was priority number one, his brain insisted, even though he desperately wanted to turn around and see where it had come from and maybe find out why it was targeted at him in the first place.

Another bolt of lightning missed him by only a few inches and he sped up, fear now seriously creeping up from his stomach and making his throat tight. Someone or something was aiming for him specifically. And judging by the smoke coming from the spot the last shot had hit the street, he might not even survive if he couldn’t outrun it.

His breath was already coming short, but he kept sprinting as fast as he could. Just two more turns and he was home and could alert his mom to what was going on. That was his best shot. Focused as he was, Minoru noticed too late that someone jumped out from the side alley and didn’t raise his arm soon enough to completely block the baseball bat swung at him. It connected with the back of his head with a dull thud and sharp pain spread through his entire body.

He had to have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, he was already lying on the ground and being dragged into the alley. His vision was swimming, but he could see the one who hit him wore a weird kind of mask, and so did the other two he was talking to.

“Hey man, be a bit more careful next time! Hostages are only useful if they’re alive. We wanna distract the Reds, not get them dead set on revenge again.”

Again…? Who were these ‘Reds’ and why where these people thinking he was important to them? He didn’t know anyone who’d ever been on a revenge quest that wasn’t a fictional character, and the only person he knew who died was his great-grandmother but she’d been like, really old, and died in her sleep…

Minoru was barely aware that his mind had start drifting again as he heard the sound of a car being unlocked and he figured he’d be taken away now, to some evil lair or something, but the earlier panic had yet to come back through the thick walls of fog around his brain.

Then suddenly the whole world was doused in red. Flames were licking at the walls beside him and his three kidnappers were screaming in agony, desperately trying to escape but being engulfed by the flames anyways until they fell to the ground, dead or unconscious he couldn’t tell. It was how he’d always pictured hell to be.

Yet, strangely, he didn’t feel a single ounce of fear. Maybe it was the dull memory that he’d seen a weaker version of these flames not long ago, used by his brother, but he immediately relaxed, knowing they were there to protect him.

Quiet footsteps passed by him, and the flames parted for what Minoru could only assume to be the goddess of fire. Beautiful and regal, with a dress that vaguely looked like it was made of fire too and actual fire wings, she stepped in front of him and addressed the men lying on the ground in front of her.

“Tell your King if he attempts this again, the outcome won’t be this mild. Homra isn’t known for their mercy, and I have no intention of changing that.” Her voice was quiet, but even Minoru could feel a chill running down his spine from the threat, there was no doubt she was absolutely serious.

She turned around, and Minoru only got a glimpse of the destructive fire in her eyes before her expression softened and she knelt down in front of him, stretching out a hand to gently touch his face. It was colder than Minoru had expected and his brain was so hung up on the disparity between her cold hand and the warmth in her gaze, that it took him a while to realize she’d asked him if he was alright.

“Sure,” he blurted out, trying to get up, but abruptly regretting that decision as the world began to spin and he ungraciously fell back on his butt. Okay, maybe he wasn’t alright. The guy had hit him pretty hard after all, so he could easily have a concussion.

The goddess didn’t seem to be bothered by his obvious lie, she simply slid one of his arms over her shoulders and helped him up. It was only then that he noticed she was only about as tall as he was and had a child’s face as well. Maybe she actually was around his age…? She seemed way too amazing for that. None of his classmates had that kind of grace – or that kind of power, for that matter.

Oblivious to his fascination, she simply started walking, and Minoru had to focus all his concentration on keeping up with her and not falling over his own feet.

Before he knew it, they stood in front of his house and she rang the doorbell. Now that the flames were gone, she seemed a little less like a goddess and more like a human, though she still had that otherworldly aura around her.

His mother opened the door and immediately took him into her arms, fussing over him and asking all sorts of questions he could barely keep up with, much less answer. His consciousness started fading again as the safety of his mother’s arms lulled him to sleep, but then he heard quiet footsteps walking away and jerked awake again.

“Wait,” he yelled panicked, “who are you? What’s your name? How…? Why…?” Fuzzy stars were already creeping at the edge of his vison, but he forced himself to stay awake until he heard some sort of answer.

The mysterious girl turned around, facing him again as she said, quiet and sure, just like before: “Anna.”

-

Next thing he knew, Minoru woke up in a hospital bed, unsure if all of that had actually happened or he dreamt up half of it while he was delirious. The girl existed though, he was absolutely sure about that, the memory of her way too clear to be a result of his imagination. His mother confirmed it too, though she was just as clueless as to who she was or where she went as Minoru, her focus had understandably been more on her injured son then on the girl who’d brought him home.

So, as soon as he was released from the hospital, Minoru set out to find her. He didn’t have much to go off of, but he vaguely remembered her mentioning ‘Homra’ and that was a group plenty of his classmates and people on the internet had heard rumours about. It was difficult to piece together what was the truth and what people had just made up, but apparently, it was some sort of street gang with special powers, united under some crazy strong monster who might or might not be dead by now. Well, his kidnappers had said something about revenge…

Most importantly though, the internet gave him a location: Bar Homra in Shizume. He could go look for Anna there, and thank her for saving him. Maybe even ask if she knew why he was attacked if he mustered up the courage for that. It wasn’t a given, seeing how stunned he’d been when he saw her for the first time, and Homra seemed to be full of scary people.

And possibly his brother, too. That wouldn’t be scary, but awkward. If his brother was actually some sort of gang member and didn’t just dress like one, it wasn’t something Minoru wanted to talk about with him, especially not in front of other gang members or Anna, for that matter. But the signs were impossible to ignore. Misaki had used the same powers as Anna. There were rumours about Homra’s vanguard ‘Yatagarasu’ all over the internet. And it would explain why he was attacked – Anna had seen it as an attack against Homra after all. Minoru couldn’t be sure though, and he didn’t know enough about Homra to decide whether it would be cool or disappointing if Misaki actually was a member.

There was no other choice than to go and find out. So, one afternoon after school, he gathered up his resolve and took a train to Shizume. He’d looked up Bar Homra what felt like a million times this past week, so he found it without a problem. His heart was beating like crazy in his chest, and he decided to peek through a window first before going in. Who knew what was going on in there? Minoru knew quite a few things he didn’t want to walk in on that could be happening in a bar that served as a gang’s base.

It turned out to be a good decision, because the first thing he saw was his brother, animatedly talking to the barkeeper. So he really was a member…

Anna wasn’t there, in fact, besides his brother and the barkeeper, there was only one other person inside. A guy who looked like a foreigner was sitting on a couch, not really doing anything or participating in the conversation. Just as it seemed like Misaki was about to leave, Minoru locked eyes with the foreigner and jolted away from the window, sprinting behind the next vending machine to hide himself. He barely made it in time to hear the bell as the door was opened and his brother came out, yelling “See you tomorrow then, Kusanagi-san,” before he jumped on his skateboard and drove away, thankfully not in the direction Minoru was hiding.

Now was the time to go in, he knew that. The bar would open officially soon, and it would only get harder to go I then. Plus, the foreigner had already seen him, so it would seem weird if he took too long to come back. Gulping, he abandoned his hiding place and strode towards the bar. Sure, it was a bit scary, but he really wanted to see Anna again, and this was the only hint he had.

A deep breath, and he pushed the door to the bar open and walked inside. The establishment had a nice, homey atmosphere, but Minoru couldn’t help but be intimidated anyway. The alcohol on display and elegant décor practically screamed ‘adults only’ to him, the guy on the couch fixated him with a gaze he couldn’t quite place, and the bartender seemed freakishly tall now that Minoru stood in front of him.

“We’re not open yet,” the bartender informed him, “and you look a bit young to be here for a drink anyway. Are you lost?” At least he seemed friendly, that made it easier to talk.

“Do you, by any chance, know a girl named Anna?” Now that gave him two pairs of raised eyebrows, and he knew he was at the right place. Excitement spread through his entire body at the thought that he was probably really close to finding her. These people just needed to tell him.

“Well, let’s say I do, who wants to know and why?”

Aw man… He didn’t want to answer that… Especially the ‘who’ part. That would just make things awkward. But he had a feeling if he didn’t answer, this bartender guy would just throw him out. “I’m here because I want to thank her, my name’s Minoru.” It dawned on him too late that he could have just lied, but then maybe Anna would say she didn’t know anyone with that name… Wait, did she even know his name? She knew where he lived, so it wasn’t impossible but he’d never told her.

“Ah, so you’re Yata-chan’s brother then? You just missed him.” Aw, dammit…

“He knows,” the foreign guy suddenly spoke up – in perfect Japanese – startling the crap out of Minoru, “he was looking through the window.” What an asshole. Couldn’t he have kept that to himself? Minoru threw him an angry look, but the snitch didn’t seem to care. In fact, he looked a little smug. Yeah, Minoru definitely didn’t like the guy.

“That so?” Thankfully the bartender didn’t pry any further. Him, Minoru thought he might actually end up liking if he got to know him better. “Eric, Anna’s upstairs, go and get her.”

Eric moved without comment, leaving Minoru to wonder if it meant the bartender was Kusanagi-san if he was apparently called by his first name. And then he stocked. ‘Anna’s upstairs’?! She was here? He was gonna meet her, right now? He wasn’t prepared!

“Come here,” Kusanagi-san(?) beckoned tapping lightly on the bar to get him to sit down, “you want a juice or something?”

Minoru walked on autopilot, his brain not quite caught up with reality yet. “I don’t have any money,” he answered belatedly, as it was still in the back of his mind that he needed all his money for the train ride, and he didn’t know whether he should say yes or no, both somehow seemed rude to him.

He got a glass anyway, filled with pineapple juice, his brother’s favourite. This guy was assuming too much.

“Well, you spent a week in the hospital thanks to us, I think I can afford giving you a juice on the house,” Kusanagi(?) said lightly, but then his voice turned more serious. “Honestly, I’d tell you to stay away from here, because it’s dangerous, but you already got hurt and yet here you are.” He sighed dramatically, as if he told people not to do dangerous things on a day-to-day basis and nobody ever listened to him. “It’s probably pointless.”

If Minoru had thought of an answer, it didn’t matter, because he heard soft footsteps on the stairs and his mind was wiped clean. Anna walked down the stairs with the grace of a ballet dancer, and Minoru could have sworn he saw sparks of flames dance around her, illuminating her face and giving her an otherworldly glow.

His throat suddenly felt dry and he had to swallow repeatedly, eyes glued to Anna as she walked over to him at a measured pace and slid onto the barstool beside him like it was the most normal thing in the world. She didn’t seem surprised in the least to see him.

“Minoru,” she greeted, taking a glass filled with some red liquid from the bartender. “Thank you, Izumo.” She smiled, and Izumo took that as his cue to leave them alone, though he didn’t leave the room, preparing things to open the bar. Eric was back too, in the same position on the same couch, as if he’d never moved at all. Minoru had hoped they’d leave them alone, but he guessed this was fair enough. He got to see Anna, that was all he really wanted. “What brings you here?”

Oh, right. He couldn’t just sit there and stare at her – though somehow that didn’t seem like such a bad pastime to him – he had to actually make conversation. And he did have a reason for coming, he should at least accomplish that.

“I- um, I wanted to say… Thank you for saving me!” He couldn’t really bow in his current position, but Minoru did his best to lower his head as far as he could. Anna needed to know how grateful he was for her interference. It was the first time he’d ever been afraid for his life, yet all unpleasant memories were completely overshadowed by her red, burning away Minoru’s fear along with his kidnappers, leaving nothing but pure awe in the wake of her powers.

Anna remained quiet for a while before she simply answered “You’re welcome.” There was a soft smile on her lips though when Minoru looked up again, so it couldn’t have been the entirely wrong thing to say.

“Oh, and,“ he dug into his school backpack, fishing out a box of his favourite chocolates that the store clerk had put a ribbon – red, of course, no other colour would fit her – on for him, “this is for you. I know it’s not much and I don’t know what you like, but I thought everyone likes chocolate, so… yeah.” He held the box out for her.

“Thank you.” Anna accepted the present, smiling wider than before, and… was that a blush on her cheeks? It wasn’t very pronounced, so he couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like it at least.

Minoru’s heart began beating faster at the sight and he couldn’t help but smile back at her.

There was one last thing he wanted to say though. “That fire thing you did… I have absolutely no idea how you did it, but it was by far the coolest thing I’ve ever seen! Like, fire should be scary, but all I could think was that it looked beautiful and that it was there to protect me!”

Anna’s gaze became warm at that, but there was also something else to it, a depth he couldn’t quite grasp. “Yes, I like my Red as well.” For a moment, it seemed like there was something else she wanted to say, but then she shook her head. “Is there anything cool that you can do?” she asked instead.

Him? Nothing of that calibre, definitely. But he had done quite a few ridiculous and difficult things on dares, so he lapsed into a tale of how he’d climbed out of a third-floor window of his school once when he’d been dared to stay and had been locked in the classroom. At first, he’d wondered if she’d only asked to be polite or to stir the conversation away from her powers, but she seemed genuinely amused, even if she didn’t laugh even once.

Somehow, they kept talking after that. The bar was eventually opened and they moved to one of the couches and Anna eventually opened her chocolates and tasted one, but those were the only markers that time passed. So Minoru was taken off-guard when the bartender came over in a quiet moment and asked Anna what she wanted for dinner and if Minoru was going to stay.

He looked at the clock on his PDA. 20:26. “Nooooooooo,” he exclaimed, dread settling in his stomach. It was way, way past time he should be home. And now that he thought of it, he probably smelled like alcohol and cigarettes after having spent the entire evening at a bar. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, “mom is gonna kill me.”

But he didn’t want to leave. He’d had so much fun, but he couldn’t just keep dropping by now that he didn’t have a reason anymore… And his brother might be there too. Not that he cared as much now, Homra didn’t seem to be full of terrible people after all, but still. It would be weird. Not talking to Anna anymore seemed just as horrible though.

In a flash, he pulled out a pen and a piece of paper from his backpack and scribbled his phone number on it, handing it to Anna before he could lose confidence in his idea. “I really gotta go now, but if you ever wanna hang out again, just call. Or just text if you’re bored or something! See ya!”

Anna nodded and took the piece of paper with a serious expression. “Goodbye.” Her voice was as monotone as ever, but Minoru wasn’t at all discouraged by it, Anna would call if she wanted to, and after today, he was 99% sure she did.

Then he bolted out of the door, hoping a train would come fast so his mom wouldn’t be any angrier than she needed to be.

Just before the door fell shut behind him, he could hear Eric’s voice saying “At this rate, Yata’s brother is gonna get himself laid faster than he does,” followed by a loud crash.

A blush crept up his cheeks. He wasn’t trying to get laid! That was way, way out of his league. But… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he could go somewhere with Anna, just the two of them, and then, just maybe, they could hold hands-

Minoru broke into a run, hoping it would hide why he was so flushed and breathing irregularly.

[sonneka]

Oh sorry, my bad... I was talking about the hurt/confort dialog meme...

Don’t worry!!!! ♥ Here it is :3

5. “You’re burning up.”

As soon as Yata places hishand on his forehead, Fushimi realizes there is no way out from that situation.

“Seriously, Saru. You—”

“I’ve got fever, Iknow…” he sits up on his bed, brushing away Yata’s hand. His best frienddoesn’t stop looking concerned but Fushimi only wants the world to end. “Ijust have to rest, nothing to be worried about.”

“Could it have been…W-When did you start feeling like this?”

Silence. It’s all prettyobvious actually, but it’s also too much to ask for Yata to notice.

Yesterday it was theirinitiation for Homra. Which even though it can sound exciting for someone likeYata, Fushimi’s side of the story was still kind of painful to remember.

The thing was that they hadto shake hands with the Red King, Mikoto Suoh. Fushimi remembers clearly how heextended both hands towards them and they were on fire.

They’d been warned aboutthat, so it shouldn’t have felt that surprising. However, Fushimi couldn’t keepcalm during that moment. Fire wasn’t something he enjoyed, and it still isn’t.

Even so, Yata was enjoyingthe moment and didn’t seem to be afraid whatsoever. Fushimi had no choice, hehad to do it because Yata was happy and that should mean everything would turnout for best, didn’t it?

And like that, Fushimi fakedconfidence and grabbed the King’s hand alongside Yata’s.

If the redhead had felt likeburning or sick during the initiation, he would have probably ran away and evencried like a little baby, so it really impressed Fushimi when it didn’t turnout like that at all.

In fact, Yata was happilyshowing his new Homra mark to everyone, while Fushimi felt like his blood wereboiling within his veins and his head was spinning like he were about to sink.

What did go wrong?

There are just two clear factsabout the initiation: Or you proudly are alive after it, without any hint pain…

Or you die incinerated.

Fushimi can’t understand whyhe didn’t fit in any option, what’s wrong with him?

It was so weird that hedecided to let it aside. After all, he is still alive…

What he certainly wasn’texpecting, although it should have been kind of obvious, it was being sick.

He decided to stay in bed,just resting. The best he thought he could do was not to make anyone know abouthis condition. How much of pathetic he has to be to have fever after theinitiation?

Is he really that weak?

“Hey, idiot! I’m talking toyou!” Yata snaps him out of his thoughts. Fushimi just shakes his head and rubshis eyes with the back of the hand. Oh, right, since he have been resting hedoesn’t have his glasses on.

“I feel awful, Misaki. Youshould stop screaming for once…” not even caring about Yata still seated nextto him on the bed, Fushimi goes back to his attempt of sleeping.

“Okay, I’m sorry…” at leasthe lowers his voice, “I just… I was wondering if you feel this bad since… you know.”

Fushimi groans and turnsaround so Yata can’t see his face, clearly not wanting to answer that question.However… “I woke up this morning feeling like this, end of the story.”

“But…”

“That’s it.” No moreexplanations.

And he can actually feel hismuscles relaxing when Yata sighs, giving up on him, and stands up. He mutterssomething Fushimi doesn’t reach to hear and then the apartment door opens andcloses, leaving the sick boy alone in the place.

He has to admit that hedoesn’t like that outcome at all. Where is the Yata that always looks out forhim? Is he really gone?

At one point Fushimi feelsfree but, in the other hand, he kind of wanted Yata to insist a little bitmore.

Just, that… As he has always done.

Utterly disappointed, Fushimishut his eyes in an attempt to sleep and forget about the throbbing pain in hishead and the weakness he feels throughout his body.

He is all alone, so he has nothingto be worried about…

Until he hears the entrancedoor opening up again. “Hey, Saru… Are you sleeping?” It is even kind ofhilarious how Yata started with a shout and ended up whispering, realizing thatmaybe his best friend is really sleeping.

Even though Fushimi firstthinks it’s a good idea to ignore the redhead’s voice, it’s just impossible forhim.

He twitches a little bit andbefore he could even start opening his languid eyes, he feels some kind ofcloth cold and wet over his forehead. “W-What?” his voice cracks a little bit,he doesn’t even have the energy to think about what’s happening by himself.

“’What’? I’m just trying tohelp you, dumbass…” so Fushimi certainly has a towel on his forehead and Yata’shand is trying to place it properly. “I went to Homra because I thought thatmaybe someone there had painkillers or something—”

“You’re such an idiot,they’re gangsters and you go to ask them for medicine?” although he isn’tfeeling like asking any questions, he just can’t ignore Yata’s stupidity.

“Y-Yeah… Some of them seemedconfused,” he rubs at the back of his neck while chuckling. “But, at least,Totsuka-san made the situation less shameful, you know? And so I told him thatyou—“

“You told him what?” Insteadof acting like he still wants the world to end, he should tbe happy that,following Yata’s story, only Totsuka knows about his condition. “You know what?Nevermind…”

“Okay…”

However, there’s stillsomething wandering inside his mind, and it has to do with the little amount oftime between Yata leaving the apartment and coming back.

For Fushimi, it felt likehe’d been alone for just five seconds. Maybe he actually ended up fallingasleep without noticing, or maybe Yata went pretty quickly to the bar.

He prefers to think it wasthe last option.

100 points…

Or 0…

This time he prefers doubting,not sure if knowing the answer to his questions will be for best or for worse.In the end, he likes thinking Yata really cares about him and went that fasttowards Homra.

“Take this.” Yata offers hima glass of water and the painkiller. “And you should take a cold shower too…”

“I get it…” Fushimi sighs andmaking a really big effort he manages to sit on the bed again to drink the damnmedicine. His best friend is seated just in front of him, still lookingconcerned. “What?” he asks after swallowing, his voice sounding hoarse.

“Nothing really,” Yata looksaway, Fushimi can tell he feels nervous. “It’s been a while since the last timeyou felt sick, you know? That’s weird.”

“Yeah…” It’s not that weird, actually…

“Do you want to eatsomething? I-I can cook anything you like!” Yata regains his usual cherish selfpretty fast.

“Not hungry…” he’d like to beright now. In fact, it can be a good chance to eat something prepared by Yatawithout vegetables in it! But he just can’t, his stomach is completely shut.

“Then…” Yata suddenly getsoff the bed and violently moves all the sheets in the process. “Let’s play somevideogames!”

He seems really excited. Somuch that he prepares the little TV they own and places it near the bed asfastest as he can. Fushimi doesn’t have any choice and he ends up sitting  in a way that he can comfy watch what’s on theTV screen. It didn’t take long for Yata to bring the two joysticks and evenchooses a game he knows Fushimi will enjoy.And he appreciates that so much,Yata will never know how.

Having a smiling Yata next tohim, cheering him up even though he’s feeling awful physically andemotionally…

What if he really doesn’tbelong to Homra? What if he just was lucky not to die but, actually, he shouldhave to?

However, he kind of forgetthose negative feelings when he sees that Yata is there with him, that both ofthem even share the same red mark now. Maybe it really means something, maybeit means that he must stay by Yata’s side even though he doesn’t quite belongwhere the other does.

Isn’t it safe staying withthe person he loves the most?

Fushimi doesn’t know muchabout happiness, he just know that he feels something when Yata’s there withhim. Everything’s so bright when he smiles and shows how happy he is, itactually lights Fushimi’s heart up.

So, although he is stillunsure about his fate with Homra, he knows that following a happy Yata willmake him happy too. He chooses not to tell him the true reason why he’s sick,he doesn’t want him to be concerned. Everything is getting better and betterfor them, they don’t need to ruin that precious small world they’ve built withso much effort.

Fushimi takes his controllerand starts playing against Yata. He wins, the redhead complains about it, andthey play over and over again…

It’s so typical of them, it’sso comforting.

Even though Fushimi is sickand isn’t the best company, Yata is there for him instead of leaving him behind.So he has to do the same as a return.

Fushimi senses Homra is notas good as the other thinks, but Yata is happy there.

If the person he loves ishappy…

He should be too, right?

[kmorelikegay]

rice, tea and chopsticks

Written for Sarumi Fest, Day 5: Fight/Reconcile. (it’s still the 11th here so I don’t even feel bad this time)

This is a follow-up chapter to another fic I wrote, so you may want to read that first or this might not make a whole lot of sense (it’s not that long though!)

Also on AO3 (first chapter is here).

The first time Yata wakes up in the hospital room, it is to the sight of the Blue King standing over Saruhiko’s sleeping form, lightly touching the back of the hand Yata isn’t gripping. His eyes are closed, and he’s muttering something under his breath, and if Yata concentrates through bleary eyes and a sleep-addled mind he thinks he can see airy blue tendrils drifting into the space directly above where Munakata and his injured friend are touching.

 His immediate reaction is to yank the King’s hand away from Saruhiko and demand an explanation for why he’s touching his Saru, why he’s even here, but – then he really looks at their hands again, really looks at Munakata’s face, and he looks sad, emotional like Yata’s never seem him, and then he really looks at Saruhiko’s face, and even as he watches some of its pallor gives way to a healthier-looking flush, and even the most defensive part of Yata’s brain recognizes that Saruhiko’s King must be using some healing property of the blue aura on him. His body slowly loses its grip on its fight instinct as he recognizes this, and he relaxes, letting the tiredness take over again a little, and turns back to gaze at Saruhiko’s (handsome – has he always been so handsome?) – face.

 A few minutes later, Munakata finishes whatever he is doing, and Yata hears him shift, turns to watch him break out of the trancelike state he was in, watches as his eyes open and sees the worry and fear and relief fill them all at once before he realizes he is being watched. Yata doesn’t think he has ever been this close to the Blue King, and his first thought at he meets that piercing violet gaze is that he doesn’t know how Saruhiko and his coworkers manage it if they have to be the subject of this man’s calculating eyes all the time. But he is Saruhiko’s King, so Yata has some amount of respect for him despite himself, and he forces himself to hold eye contact as Munakata begins to speak.

 “He is recovering well,” he starts, removing his hand from Saruhiko’s as he speaks. “I have helped him where I can, but I believe I have done all I can do. I do not know if they have told you, but he should be able to be released within the week,” he continues, giving Yata a soft smile that Yata thinks should look out of place with his always-professional demeanor but somehow fits him, softens him, makes him look like a concerned parent or older sibling, and Yata relaxes even more; this man is definitely not a threat to Saruhiko, and Yata hadn’t realized how much he cared about his employee. Maybe – and Yata thinks this begrudgingly, but this time with sympathy and even with understanding – maybe this man really was meant to be Saruhiko’s King. Maybe this was always who he belonged with. Yata breaks eye contact at the thought, feeling a confusing mix of contentment for Saruhiko’s happiness, and even his defection from Homra, and of jealousy, for belonging somewhere that isn’t with Yata.

 Before Yata can wallow in his thoughts too much, the man catches him off guard again with an even wider disarming smile, adding, “I think he will be safest and happiest in your capable hands, Yata-kun,” as if he can read Yata’s mind. (Hell, maybe he can; Saruhiko did always say his ability to read people was disconcerting. Maybe he’d meant it literally.)

 Either way, though, Munakata lets his gaze drift from Yata to linger on Saruhiko again, and gives his hand one last gentle pat before turning and striding to the door. Yata notices, then, that he isn’t in his uniform, is wearing jeans and a casual collared jacket instead, and he looks so different and young like that that Yata almost laughs.

 As if the Blue King knew Yata was watching him leave, he turns around after he’s pushed open the door and is standing in the doorframe and says, “I believe you have an apartment nearby, Yata-kun?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “Perhaps Fushimi-kun would be best off there until he recovers completely.” He gives Yata a knowing smile before disappearing through the door, and Yata has a moment to think about his words and his smirk, after which he feels his face flush for reasons he cannot understand. In truth, he had been thinking the same thing; but something about how Munakata suggested it gave Yata the impression he knows something Yata doesn’t. It’s a little unsettling, but not unsettling enough to keep Yata awake when he is so tired from staying up to keep an eye on Saruhiko these past couple of days (has it really only been a couple of days?) and as soon as his head hits the pillow he’d snatched from the vacant second bed in Saruhiko’s room he is out like a light again.

 Even in sleep, his grip on Saruhiko’s hand never falters.

-

The second time Yata wakes up in the hospital room, it is because his hand is being squeezed quite roughly, and he lifts his head to find Saruhiko watching him.

 It is so good to see his eyes again. It had been so good just to see his chest moving up and down with his breath that Yata thought that would always be enough, just to have that evidence that he’s alive, but now, seeing his eyes again, Yata doesn’t know how he ever thought anything else would be enough.

 They are so blue, and Yata is so breathless with relief and something else that his first words to Saruhiko then aren’t anything normal at all. Instead, what comes out is, “Oh, good. I thought you were going to let your rice get cold again.”

 Saruhiko had still been staring at him, but at Yata’s words his brow furrows and he looks down at his lap, where indeed a plastic tray stretched across the bed presents to him a bowl of lukewarm rice accompanied by a cup of tea and a pair of chopsticks. While Saruhiko takes in the food, Yata takes the opportunity to study his profile – the line of his nose, the fall of his lashes against his upper cheekbone, the cascade of mussed and unwashed and beautiful hair over the far side of his face, the part of his lips as he breathes before turning back to Yata and saying, “Misaki.”

 Yata’s grip on his hand tightens even more, and he feels Saruhiko respond with a hard squeeze of his own, and then Yata can’t help it, he falls forward against Saruhiko’s chest and lets all of the emotion that fear and lethargy have kept at bay these past two days flow from his eyes onto Saruhiko’s hospital gown. Some distant part of his mind has the awareness to be surprised when Saruhiko doesn’t hesitate, just hugs Yata to him, tilts his head against the top of Yata’s, keeps squeezing Yata’s hand with a desperate grip. It’s as if he is just as afraid of Yata leaving again as Yata is, and that shouldn’t be possible, Saruhiko is the one who’s been asleep, Saruhiko is the one who almost died, but here he is, hugging Yata as if he could disappear at any moment.

 Yata doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but it feels so good to hold each other, even if they haven’t actually talked beyond sniffles and snotty tears and desperate whispers of each other’s names. Eventually he pulls back, wipes his nose on the sleeve of the arm that isn’t still held happily hostage in their mutual death grip, and looks at Saruhiko for real for the first time since he’s woken up.

 He looks pale and exhausted, but mostly he looks hopeful, and it takes Yata’s breath away. Hope looks good on him. Hope looks beautiful on him, and Yata has to ask, has to know, so he starts, “Saruhiko,” he says, “Saru, do you – do you remember what happened? Why you’re here?”

 Saruhiko regards him a moment longer before breaking their gaze and regarding the rice and tea and chopsticks and plastic tray instead. He squeezes Yata’s hand again, nods slowly, then looks away from Yata at the far wall, but not before Yata sees that he’s blushing, and it’s cute as hell but it won’t do, not since Yata knows it’s not out of embarrassment but out of fear, and he doesn’t want fear on Saruhiko’s face, wants to put the hope back on it (hope looks beautiful on him), so he says in a too-fast rush of breath, “I want it.”

 Saruhiko’s head whips back and his eyes start searching Yata’s face for any trace that Yata is joking, just messing with him, as if he would joke about something like this – and doesn’t Saruhiko know, anyway? Doesn’t he know that he makes Yata’s heart pound, that he makes Yata feel smart and loved and needed? Doesn’t he know that he makes Yata’s life interesting, worth living – that even when they fought more than they talked, he was what made Yata get out of bed in the morning, made him look forward to the day? Doesn’t he know that for Yata, he has always, always been it?

 But he knows that Saruhiko doesn’t know, but Yata is still smiling because he will. He will. And as he leans in he sees Saruhiko’s eyes quickly cycle through the stages of acceptance – denial, confusion, anger, confusion again, and then, finally, understanding – and Saruhiko’s eyes that reflect his happiness and that flutter shut as Yata’s mouth closes in on his tell him the rest of what he needs to know.

 I want it, too.

[ridiasfangirlings]

going off from the yata drug addict aus (specifically the one where he starts pre mk and then fushimi finds out post rok) what if F fucks up and blurts out at least hes not a druggie thug

Fushimi loves nothing more than putting his foot in his mouth and sabotaging his own happiness. Imagine this post-ROK, he and Yata are back on good terms but it’s still a bit fraught between them. On Yata’s end, he is trying to get clean now that everything’s calmed down — intellectually he knows that he doesn’t need the drugs anymore but obviously addiction brain doesn’t care about what Yata knows. Maybe he has confided in a few more people by this point because he realizes he’s gonna need some support here, Kusanagi and Anna and Kamamoto all trying to encourage him and help him beat his addiction. Fushimi knows too and for him it’s much harder, because he does want to be supportive but he has no idea what that would even look like and besides he’s dealing with his own whole mess of mental illness, he’s the last person who should be giving a vulnerable person support and he knows it. I imagine him being on edge because deep down he feels like this is his fault somehow and didn’t he break Yata after all, and does he have any right to be the one who supports Yata through this when he fucked it all up to begin with.

One day they’re spending time together and they end up getting into a fight, like Yata is still trying to get Fushimi to be honest with him about why Fushimi left Homra and Fushimi is still resisting because he can’t quite believe that Yata would accept his answer. Yata’s on edge from withdrawal so he’s also more bad-tempered than usual and he starts complaining about how Fushimi won’t be honest and can’t take care of himself and I thought you were gonna try for me now that we’ve finally made up. Fushimi gets defensive and says he can take care of himself, Yata says obviously that’s not and has never been true, and before he can stop himself Fushimi mutters that ‘at least I’m not a druggie thug.’

There’s a sudden silence, the only sound being Yata’s sharp intake of breath. Fushimi completely freezes — he knows, that he’s said something really awful here and a normal person would apologize, a normal person would take it back, but he’s not normal and he never has been and he’s just broken his precious thing again. And if he stays with Yata he’ll keep breaking it, so when Yata growls ‘get out’ Fushimi just clicks his tongue and leaves without a word. He walks out the door but then he just stands there awkwardly in the hall, twisting his fingers together, telling himself this is fine, he should leave before he hurts Misaki more. At the same time though he can’t make his legs move, can’t bring himself to leave Yata behind again.

Back in the apartment Yata just lowers his head down on the table, quietly cursing. His hands shake and what he really wants is to take something that will make all these shitty feelings go away, even though he’s been trying so hard to stop doing that. He grumbles ‘fuck it’ and goes to where he left his last stash of drugs, opening the box and just staring at them. He’s irritated and angry and everything feels awful, like he thinks everyone will be disappointed in him but they probably are already so why doesn’t he just take what will make him feel good. 

He reaches for a needle and suddenly a hand is on his wrist, and Yata looks up to see Fushimi staring at him with a complicated expression. Yata starts to say he wasn’t going to do anything but Fushimi cuts him off, looking away as he mutters ‘I’m…sorry.’ That throws Yata for a loop totally, because he can’t remember the last time he heard Fushimi say those words. Yata swallows hard and starts to apologize too but Fushimi shakes his head and says it again more forcefully ‘I’m sorry.’ Yata lets that sink in and doesn’t resist as Fushimi takes the drugs away from him. Yata sighs and says he isn’t very good at this getting clean thing, Fushimi says he backed Yata into a corner. Yata says yeah but he still needs to learn to handle this stuff without reaching for the drugs. He pauses and then asks if Fushimi will hold onto those for him — Yata trusts him, that Fushimi won’t let him slip back. Fushimi’s eyes go wide and then he nods, quietly asking if it’s okay. Yata knows he doesn’t just mean the drugs and Yata nods, putting a hand on Fushimi’s and looking him in the eye as he says ‘Yeah. We’re okay.’

[ridiasfangirlings]

saruhiko researching into the language of flowers because he doesn't know how to express his love to misaki through words

Okay but the fatal flaw here is that no way Yata actually knows flower language XD Oh but maybe Fushimi is doing this precisely because of that, like he wants to tell Yata how he feels but he’s got all these bottled up insecurities so the only way he can do it is in a form that he knows Yata won’t understand. Like imagine maybe they’re tentatively dating, like Yata has confessed but Fushimi hasn’t really reciprocated. They go on dates and Fushimi stays over at Yata’s place more often than not so Yata kinda thinks they’re dating but he isn’t sure and he can’t quite bring himself to ask, like what if he says the wrong thing and ruins their friendship again. 

Meanwhile Fushimi wants to tell Yata how much Fushimi loves him but every time Fushimi tries to words just get stuck in his throat. It’s making him even more irritable than usual, to the point that even the squad has noticed. One day Fushimi goes to deliver a report to Munakata and finds Munakata in his office calmly doing some ikebana. Fushimi clicks his tongue because he didn’t know Munakata was interested in flowers (and also please do your work Captain). Munakata says he finds flowers rather fascinating, mentioning how there is an entire language behind them. Fushimi gives a bland ‘is that so’ in response but Munakata continues, noting how through flowers one can say things that can’t be put into words. Fushimi clicks his tongue and calls it stupid but when he’s back at his desk he finds himself idly searching online for flower language.

The next day Yata comes home from work and Fushimi’s on the couch playing on his PDA, and there’s a vase of flowers on the table next to him. Yata asks about the flowers and Fushimi just shrugs and says he thought Yata would like them. Yata’s a little happy — this means they are dating right? — though he’s surprised because he didn’t think of Saruhiko as the type to get flowers. After this Fushimi brings Yata flowers regularly, always acting like it’s no big deal and often the flowers are similar types. Yata thinks it’s nice but he’s also confused, because here Saruhiko is bringing him flowers every week but Yata still isn’t sure if Fushimi actually loves him. 

One day he’s helping out at Homra when Anna asks for some help with her homework. They’re studying a novel that involves flower language symbolism so she got a book with all the symbolism in it and she shows Yata, here are what these mean. Yata’s all huh so you can say whole things with just flowers that’s kinda cool. He realizes looking over the book that he recognizes some of these flowers and he’s like wait, pulling out his PDA and showing Anna a picture of one of the bouquets Fushimi got for him. Anna helps him locate certain flowers and soon Yata’s looking at each of his past bouquets and slowly coming to a realization as he learns each of the meanings — “don’t forget me,” “you’re the only one for me,” “soulmates,” “I want to be beside you,” “I love you.” That evening Yata’s waiting for Fushimi at the apartment holding his own bouquet that Anna helped him make, one filled with reply flowers as he smiles at Fushimi and says weren’t you going to start saying things in a way that an idiot can understand.

[ridiasfangirlings]

What if Yata Misaki was a dangerous strain? Like he's incredibly dangerous. What would be his powers? How would he find out? And does HOMRA know? You can answer if you like, but if you don't want to, it's ok.

If he was that dangerous I imagine his powers would have to be something that he can’t even control, since Yata’s not the type to use his powers for bad things. Maybe it’s similar to Neko in how he can use the power without being aware of it, like he can get people to agree to anything he says even if it’s something like ‘go jump off a bridge.’ And in fact maybe that’s how Yata finds out about the power, when he’s a little kid and dealing with some bullies and after he kicks their asses and is chasing them off he yells “That’s right, go die!” — and the bullies, who are only around Yata’s age as well, suddenly veer off into the street right in front of an oncoming truck. 

Yata is horrified and in the aftermath his mom tells him not to worry, it was just a coincidence and not his fault, but Yata keeps feeling like it must be. He gets really agitated and yells at his mom to stop talking to him and suddenly she goes quiet. She doesn’t talk to him for two days until he hesitantly begs her to start talking again and she does, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she hasn’t spoken to him for two days. Poor Yata is so worried and scared, like he’s sure this must be some superpower but it’s not a cool one at all, it’s one he can’t control and he’s the kind of kid who just blurts things out so what if one day he says something terrible again.

Due to this I think Yata would grow up to be somewhat different than in canon, I imagine him being much more quiet and reserved because he’s afraid he’ll accidentally say something he can’t take back. When he befriends Fushimi though it’s both exhilarating and terrifying, because Saruhiko is the one who tells him what they’ll do together and hates himself to be told what to do, so it’s easy for Yata to hold his tongue. But at the same time it’s also terrifying because Yata cares about him so much that he still worries one day he’ll blow it by forcing Saruhiko to do something he doesn’t want to (oh and imagine the betrayal scene in this AU, with Yata who knows that all he has to do is say ‘come back’ and Saruhiko won’t have a choice — but he’ll hate Yata forever, and it won’t be the same Saruhiko as before).

Homra I imagine finding out when the incident at the center with Anna happens. Anna I feel like would know Yata’s a Strain too, her powers make it easy for her to recognize his powers (and in fact maybe his powers won’t work on her or on Mikoto either for that matter, since he’s a King, and that’s why Yata is so attached to them both). Yata is so worried that if everyone finds out they’ll hate him and Anna promises to keep the secret, Mikoto is probably present too and just ruffles Yata’s hair and tells him not to worry so much. Yata feels more at ease about that but then imagine when Fushimi joins S4 and discovers that the Gold clan — and by extension Scepter 4 — has known all along that Yata’s an incredibly dangerous Strain and Yata never told him, and of course Fushimi just says it in front of everybody at some point. Yata’s worried Homra will hate him but the guys are all supportive,  no one’s afraid of him at all and Yata thinks this is the place he can belong after all. (And then Mikoto dies and Homra is about to disband, and Yata without thinking bursts out with ‘don’t leave, Homra has to stay together’ and gets his wish in the worst way possible).