#krarepairweek2018

[constastan]

K Rarepair Week Day 3: Past/Future

bonus:

[endless-season]

KoR Chapter 2: Crown & Clown [8/9]

K: Kingdom of Red by Rairaku Rei Chapter 2: Crown & Clown Pages 154-167 (Part 8/9 according to kara-no-ai’s sectioning)

#krarepairweek2018: yes/yes? #THE GREAT IZUMOTATARA TAKEOVER OF 2018

The part before this aka Ichigen-sama flashback aka part 7/9 has been roughly translated by kara-no-ai here. Nothing else from Chapter 2 has been translated as far as I know. (Decent number of chp2 spoiler summaries can be found in my tag somewhere). 

This part expands on the hospital flashback in episode 6. All you need to know is Totsuka got beaten up, Ishigami is his adoptive dad’s name. Totsuka has already met Suoh and started following him around by this point.

Usual disclaimers: Ditto to all KoR Translations I’ve done. Corrections and retranslations are very welcome!!

Shoutout to kara-no-ai for accomodating my random bursts of dodgy translations, constastan for pointing out sentences that should have had had but had not had had and those that had had had but should not have had had, and also defeateddetectives for advice on medical correctness. Jeez Totsuka why is your injury so confusing :/

<< Chapter 2: Crown & Clown [7/9] <<

†

‘It stinks of antiseptic…’ was his first thought. After the thought had come to him, the drifting fragments of his consciousness began to come back together as he slept.

‘My body feels heavy…’ was his next thought. He couldn’t move his body well but he could move his eyelids, so he slowly opened his eyes.

White light stung his eyes. He saw a white ceiling. He shifted his gaze and saw white curtains, and looking down at his body, he saw a white bed. Totsuka was lying on top of an unfamiliar bed.

Ah, the hospital?

When he recognised his surroundings, pain ran through his body.

“Ahhh, it hurts.” he complained, testing out his voice. It was a very light tone. In doing so and pouting, he felt like the pain in his body had also lightened.

Totsuka looked over his body. One leg was lifted up in a cast. It was quite stiff. He probably fractured a bone. The leg in the cast was much bigger than usual and didn’t feel like his own. He felt like he had become a robot in one leg. He barely managed to sit himself up and in doing so, caused pain to shoot through his whole body.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch”.

His left arm was also wrapped in a bulky cast. Did he also fracture his arm? His other arm was alright, so he tried to touch the cast on his suspended leg. His leg couldn’t feel anything, although that was to be expected since he was touching the cast and not the leg itself. At this rate, if his leg felt itchy then he wouldn’t be able to scratch it. As soon as he thought that, his leg started to itch.

Touching his head, he found a large gauze pad stuck onto his cheek and his head wrapped in bandages. Well, hadn’t he become very extravagant? He lowered his eyebrows. Indeed, that was a very considerable rough up.

He heard footsteps and a nurse appeared. Seeing he was awake, she called out,

“It seems you’ve woken up, that’s good.”

“Yes.”

“How are you feeling? Do you feel dizzy or anything?”

“I’m fine~.”

“Your name?”

“Totsuka Tatara.”

The nurse wrote down his name on the patient record in her hand. After that she asked him for his address and phone number.

“We’re asking since you were unconscious and weren’t carrying any ID with you. The child that brought you here had seen you before, so for now we’ve contacted someone who we think is your acquaintance.”

“Someone you think is my acquaintance?”

“A business named HOMRA. We called the employee there in case they could tell us your identity but…”

“Ah...” Totsuka let out in a muffled voice

The person who had helped Totsuka, probably had seen him before when he was following Suoh around. Indeed, Suoh had mentioned going to a bar where his senior schoolmate was working. HOMRA was most likely the name of that bar. Suoh probably found out he got injured by now.

“… but in the end we didn’t manage to get your home contact details. It’s good you woke up so soon. Ah, your leg is fractured so be careful okay? Since it was a clean break, it shouldn’t take too long to heal. The lacerations in your left leg extend all the way down to your toes so you shouldn’t move around much. The doctor will come by later and explain things in more detail, but other than that, is there anything you have concerns about?”

“I’ve got a lot of free time now, so is there anything I can do to pass the time?”

 Amazed at his straightforward concern, the nurse left the ward and returned with a few books.

“Here, read some books. I’m going to call your parents now, so behave yourself okay?”

Even though he couldn’t move around by himself in this kind of situation, the nurse said that as if thinking he was going to run off somewhere, and left.

Ishigami, not having a steady job, had a habit of wandering to and fro. However, since Ishigami had just recently come back home, they would probably be able to catch him. The real problem was whether or not he could afford the hospitalisation fees.

… Ahh, but didn’t he just win some money from horse racing? Sorry Occhan, I might’ve used up all the money you finally managed to get.

Totsuka apologized in his heart. He looked over at the books the nurse had left him.

A mystery novel, an essay and a children’s book.

Totsuka flipped open the children’s book. It looked like a fantasy book. It was a story involving kings, and things like swords and magic.

Suddenly he remembered a childhood memory from a certain day out. He felt like he had a dream about it while he was unconscious.

Totsuka was ten years old. He decided to get some food and so went to pick wildflowers. It was then that he met the strange man. The man said, “You’ll one day meet your King”.

That night, Totsuka dug out a picture book involving a king, from the back of his shelf. It was a picture book Ishigami’s wife had bought for him, before she left. The picture book was aimed at even younger children than the children’s book the nurse left him. All the words were written in hiragana to make it easy to read and it was filled with beautiful pictures.

In it was a picture of a king, wearing an awesome crown.

‘So I’m going to meet someone like him?’ ten year old Totsuka thought, tilting his head and flipping through the pages of the picture book he no longer remembered the contents of.

In the picture book, the king was surrounded by remarkable people.

A smart prime minister, a strong knight, talented musicians, cooks and so on.

But, among the vassals that stood by the king's side that had neither social status nor special talents, there was the position of the clown. Instead of possessing status or talents, the clown was a person who made others laugh through what he lacked. A clown was one who diverted the energy of their existence of "being laughed at" into a profession of "making others laugh" and brought smiles to people's faces.

Without understanding what the words "meet your king" meant, Totsuka had already decided that if he were to become a vassal of a king, he would want to be the clown.

Totsuka was essentially a person who got bored easily, so he had long forgotten that man's words. But, for some reason, when he met Suoh Mikoto, those words spontaneously resurfaced in his mind.

Although he didn’t believe the words of the mysterious man, he suddenly thought, ‘Could it be him?’

‘Ou-sama’ (King in Japanese) didn’t sound right, so the most fitting nickname he could think of was ‘King’. Though, when he had called him that, the guy had made an unpleasant expression.

(“You’ll one day meet your King”.)

‘If he could make the king laugh, that would be good’, he thought.

There was a knock on the door.

The one who came in was the person he was just thinking about.

Totsuka was surprised. The nurse had said she had called the business named HOMRA but he didn’t expect that they’d come out of their way to the hospital.

Suoh had a sullen look on his face.

“Ehh, what wrong, King?”

“… King?”

The tall, young man who entered with Suoh repeated after Totsuka doubtfully. With his slender physique and dignified way of walking, he looked attractive like a model.

…King’s friend?

It was very surprising, but also very fitting, thought Totsuka. Suoh’s senpai who worked at that HOMRA business was probably him.

Totsuka’s eyes sparkled at the young man curiously, but Suoh’s low and irritated voice interrupted him.

“Who did this to you?”

When he looked back, Suoh had a deep crease on his forehead and a fixed stare. Totsuka wondered how to respond. Meanwhile, the young man who came with Suoh put on a sombre expression and bent down facing Totsuka.

“Look, kid… If you hang around this guy, you’ll end up like this again. You might think you’ll be safe near someone strong, but it’s the exact opposite.” he said with a slight kansai dialect as if chiding him.

Totsuka smiled. For some reason he liked this person, he thought. The young man had soft, permed hair that was dyed a light brown, and was dressed stylishly in a thin black jacket and black cargo pants. Outwardly he looked frivolous but Totsuka felt that on the inside he was a respectable, good person.

“Okay, I’ll be careful from now on.”

Totsuka replied with a big nod but perhaps because he spoke in such an unconcerned tone, the young man’s face showed that he didn’t believe him and was going to continue lecturing.

“Kid, let me say this again…”

Suddenly there was a thump on Totsuka’s bed.

Totsuka sat up surprised. He looked over. Suoh, whose sullen aura had become stronger, had one dirty foot placed on the bed. It seemed he had kicked the bed.

“I asked you who did this to you.”

He really was angry.

Totsuka pondered a bit. He didn’t want to say what happened. Suoh was probably related to Totsuka’s attack. Like the young man with the kansai dialect had said, it was probably because he hung around Suoh, that they set their sights on him.

Totsuka recalled Suoh’s fight. During the fight with those three, Suoh was hit. A powerful punch by the guy with the big physique. It probably hurt. Totsuka who had suffered that kind of injury could vividly feel it.

But Suoh, with the fist landing on his cheek, smiled. Seeing that smile, Totsuka realised why he was called a wild beast.

He thought that it wouldn’t be unusual to see fangs underneath Suoh’s smiling lips. And he saw Suoh’s eyes shine as if he were a beast that had caught sight of prey.

At that moment, a shiver ran down Totsuka’s spine. Suoh was one of the people who found ‘joy’ in exerting violence.

Well, although he had momentarily been overwhelmed by Suoh's intensity, his mood quickly shifted from that to wanting to go buy something cool to place on Suoh's cheek where he had been first hit.

Totsuka didn’t think Suoh was scary. He didn’t deny Suoh’s use of violence either.

However, Suoh had gotten angry because of Totsuka, and had gotten violent for Totsuka. And Totsuka, didn’t, know, why, but, he, really, didn’t, like, that.

Totsuka was a selfish person. Selfish in the way that, if he wanted to do something, he would do it. And if he didn’t like something, he would stubbornly refuse to do it.

“… Before that, King… I have a favour to ask.”

Totsuka lowered his eyes and put on a gloomy expression as if he were about to reveal something grave.

“Will you hear me out?”

Suoh gently motioned with his chin as if saying ‘Let’s hear it’.

Totsuka gently patted his leg that was wrapped in the cast.

“My leg…”

As he looked at his leg, he thought about how dramatic it looked. ‘In this kind of situation, if I said I’ll never be able to walk again, they might accidentally believe me’, he thought.

Still, the bone was broken cleanly and would heal nicely.

Totsuka looked up at Suoh with a foolishly smiling face.

“It itches like hell! Could you scratch it for me?”

For a moment Suoh looked dumbfounded, then sighed. The irritation within him was replaced by exasperation.

Suoh felt Totsuka’s cast. He looked like he was about to scratch Totsuka’s foot as requested… and then dropped his fist onto Totsuka’s head.

Totsuka held his seriously aching head. He didn't think Suoh would come at him with a feint. He might be more mischievous than Totsuka had previously thought.

Suoh’s previously scary angry face, turned into a childish, sulky angry face, and he left the ward. Totsuka rubbed his head and looked towards the door Suoh left from.

 “You’re one reckless kid…”

He lifted his head up at the utterly astounded voice. The young man with the kansai dialect was looking down at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Don’t blame me if he kills you.”

Totsuka smiled at his seriously worried looking face.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, it’ll work out somehow.”

Totsuka once again thought of his childhood memory.

He thought it would be strange to say it at a time like this, but for some reason he wanted to tell the young man, so he opened his mouth.

“I’m going to become the king’s vassal.”

“Huh?”

As expected, the young man had a questioning look on his face. Totsuka faintly smiled.

“That guy’s going to become someone great… He might become like a real king, don’t you think?”

For a moment the young man put on an odd expression and observed Totsuka as if he was some new exotic creature. Following that, he walked closer, pulled out a stool and sat down. Then he gently karate chopped Totsuka on the head.

“Ouch!”

“’You an idiot?!”

“Your tsukkomi (comeback) was too slow. You left too long a gap. It’s not fair!”

“Ya really an idiot arencha!”

“I’m not an idiot! I’m serious!”

Totsuka rubbed his already injured head that kept being treated roughly. But actually, it didn’t really hurt that much.

“Don’t you think so too, Homra-san?”

“What’s with the Homra-san.”

“Eh? Did I get it wrong? I thought you were the guy from the HOMRA place that King sometimes goes to.” Totsuka said, smiling.

The young man widened his eyes in surprise and nodded.

“You’re right. Bar HOMRA is the business my uncle runs. I also help out. But stop it with the Homra-san. My name is Kusanagi Izumo. I don’t wanna also have some strange nickname.”

“Kusanagi-san”, Totsuka repeated. Happy with the sound of it, he nodded and introduced himself.

“Now seriously, Totsuka-kun. Why dyu suddenly wanna be a king’s vassal?”

“Just Totsuka is fine. … Even if you ask me that, it’s hard to explain. I suddenly felt inspired? Like, when I first saw him I thought ‘It’s the king of beasts!’”. (T/N: aka, lion)

Kusanagi let out a ‘Hah?’

“Well, it’s not like I don’t get what you mean. But I don’t think the king part is right.”

“Really?”

“’King of beasts’ I get. In fact, he’s already called ‘Wild beast Mikoto’. He’s like a lion in the savanna. But, he’s bad at making company.”

Totsuka quietly nodded.

“It ain’t as if he doesn’t like people. If people were less scared of him, they’d probably get along just fine. He doesn’t need a vassal. Instead, I think you too ought to be more like a friend to him, dontcha think?”

“A friend…”

“Ya don’t wanna?”

Confused, Totsuka waved around his head back and forth until it was horizontal. Friend. For some reason, that thought had never occurred to him.

“But…”

Hearing his hesitation, Kusanagi prompted him further, “But?”

“Still, I think he’s going to become a king one day.”

“Hah…. Of course ya do. Well if there’s any deeper meaning behind that, maybe we’ll see a future where that comes true.”

Suoh would surely become something big. Totsuka wanted to see that happen, and to become a person who could make him smile.

Perhaps Kusanagi decided that that was enough of this conversation. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward and said, ‘I guess that’s that’.

“So kid, who gave ya those injuries?”

“Ehh? We’re still going on about that?”

“Idiot. It’s important. Ya might’ve easily dodged the question with Mikoto, but that’s not happening with your big bro here.”

‘He really is a respectable, good person on the inside’, thought Totsuka. But given the current situation, that was a bit troublesome.

“Ya got targeted because of your connection to Mikoto didn’t ya?”

This person didn’t seem like he’d be fooled by Totsuka’s attempts to avoid the question so Totsuka reluctantly responded.

“Kusanagi-san, before, you said I might think that it’s safe being around King, but I don’t. I already know the space around King is like a danger zone. I know that already, so being around him despite that and then getting hurt is my own fault. It’s got nothing to do with King.”

Kusanagi once again stared fixatedly at Totsuka. He seemed to be thinking about something, and then said in a calm voice,

“So it’s your pride then?”

“Pride?”

Totsuka tilted his head. He did not understand how one could possibly come to that conclusion.  Totsuka, if anything, was largely regarded a person who did not have any pride, as he often relied upon on the good will of others for food to eat, due to his poverty.

“You use such complex language, Kusanagi-san.”

“Ya think it’s complex?”

“It’s complex. I’m simply going along with my own self-indulgence.”

“Pft”, Kusanagi gave a laugh. Up until then, Kusanagi never dropped his senior-esque attitude but that smile looked as if he had given up on opposing Totsuka.

“I know how Mikoto feels, and for the sake of your safety from now on, I wish you’d just confess who did this to ya but…”

Then Kusanagi shrugged as if to say ‘Oh well, guess there’s no way to it.’

“Well then Totsuka, are ya still up for following Mikoto around after an incident like this?”

“Of course!”

Receiving such an immediate smiling reply, Kusanagi also smiled, amused.

“Curiosity killed the cat, ya know?”

“I’ll try my best not to die!”

“I’m not sure if that really counts as trying your best...” replied Kusanagi exasperatedly. Then he decided to stay in Totsuka’s hospital ward to chat and keep him company for now.

They talked and laughed about the one common subject they had between them, Suoh. When it was time to leave, Kusanagi put on a serious face and said “Even if ya don’t tell Mikoto, next time anything happens, tell me” and then, after being shocked that Totsuka didn’t own a PDA, wrote down his own PDA number on a memo and gave it to Totsuka.

That night on the hospital bed, Totsuka didn’t have any nightmares from the pain, nor relive any bad memories from being attacked. He slept nicely and soundly.

It might’ve been because of Suoh and Kusanagi. And also Ishigami, who upon hearing of Totsuka's hospitalisation, had rushed over and brought, in a tupperware box, piping hot freshly baked potatoes that, in the end, they had never gotten the meat to add to.

†

>> Chapter 2: Crown & Clown [9/9] >>

[pu-san]

K Rarepair Week Day 7: Free Day

#THE GREAT IZUMOTATARA TAKEOVER OF 2018

What if IzuTotsu somehow got into Colourless clan?

Kusanagi-san! Kusanagi-san! Look, I’ve got a sword!

Are you kidding me...

Collab with @ tofupizzastan \o/

[ridiasfangirlings]

Title: Orbit

Fandom: K Project

External: AO3

Ratings/Warnings: T, character death

Summary: This is the way the world ends...a crumbling blue Sword of Damocles, and Totsuka Tatara’s King standing beneath it.

Notes: Have some MunaTotsu for rare pair week, day 2: alternate universe.

This is the way the world ends.

There was a Sword hanging in the sky, translucent blue, cracks and sharp corners, debris raining down. Crumbling like a sand castle, shadow stretched out to cover the man standing directly below.

Reisi.

The Blue King raised his head, and Totsuka Tatara met that gaze with his own.

One step forward, then two. Hands shaking on a sword that he had never drawn, not really, not in combat – that sword, named after a star hidden from view in the glow of another, that only called for help when drawn because he couldn't fight, he was weak and everyone knew it – but he drew the sword, because the King was looking at him. This was the task, then. The reason he'd been by that man's side all this time.

Rain was falling, and stained Totsuka's blue uniform dark as he took another step towards his King, and the world was already fading to dust around them.

Two steps, to a crumbling Sword. The King standing alone, waiting.

This is the way the world ends.

Totsuka's face ached and he thought he might be smiling, desperately.

Everything will turn out all right, don't you think?

The grip of his sword felt clammy, slipping under his fingers, and he stepped beneath the shadow of the sword.

–

The first time Totsuka Tatara met Munakata Reisi it was while sitting on a bench in a park at night, and a child in glasses walked up to him and asked where his parents were.

“Who knows?” Totsuka shrugged and smiled, because he didn't know the answer himself. It was like a game, really – hide and seek, even though he hadn't hidden and no one was seeking him. That was all right, though. It was all going to work out fine, the way it always did. He had picked up dead leaves in three different colors and made two flower crowns, which he had never done before, and he was renaming all the constellations in the sky.

“It is against the law for children to be out this late unaccompanied.” As if the person in front of him was much older than Totsuka himself.

Well, in age maybe. Totsuka swung his legs on the bench as he mentally corrected himself. The child in front of him couldn't be more than a few years older than Totsuka in body but something about his bearing reminded Totsuka of the time he'd been dropped off at a senior citizens' home for three hours, when he'd sat at the side of someone who wasn't his grandfather but smelled like cinnamon and played a game of shogi without an opponent. This was certainly that kind of person as well, who would play a game against himself and still focus on finding a winning strategy.

“You're unaccompanied.” Totsuka put one of the flower crowns on his head, just because.

“My parents will be here shortly. It seems I spent too long gathering beetles and lost track of the time. However, I have contacted them and am waiting for their arrival.” He spoke like an old man too, formal. Totsuka cocked his head.

“I like catching beetles.” He'd caught a bunch of bugs once, using a dead bird as bait. No beetles though, and he'd had to reconsider his choices. “Isn't it bad weather for beetles in the winter?”

“So I have found.” The boy laughed and pushed up his glasses with one finger, in a manner almost calculated, and it made Totsuka laugh too. “I have a theory however, that there are insects which can only be found during times of frost.”

“Huh, really?” Totsuka pulled in his knees so he could lean his arms on them. The sky had gotten darker, but there was moonlight reflecting on this boy's glasses. “Hey, show me?”

He'd meant it just in fun. There wasn't much else to do, and Totsuka always liked to try new things.

But the boy's answering smile was confident and bright and young like it should be, and there was stardust in his hair and for just a moment Totsuka thought--

Just like a King.

He put the other flower crown on the boy's head, and the boy held out a hand.

“Certainly. As long as we remain in the area so our parents can find us.”

“Right, right.” Totsuka waved a hand airily. “Parents. Ah, my name's Totsuka Tatara, by the way.”

Totsuka reached down, took the boy's hand, and was helped off the bench. The boy pushed up his glasses with his free hand again, looking dignified and ridiculous with the flower crown still on his head, and there was a sudden dazzling brilliance in his smile that made Totsuka's heart beat as fast as if he'd been running all day.

“Good evening, Totsuka-kun. My name is Munakata Reisi.”

King.

–

“That was cruel, wasn't it, Reisi?” Totsuka leaned against the classroom doorway as Reisi approached with slow steps. He looked up as Totsuka spoke, posture regal and straight-backed, a student's uniform like a king's cloak around him, and Totsuka waited for the reply.

Reisi always had the most interesting replies, and Totsuka's grin widened in anticipation.

“Oya? I would disagree with such an assessment. I simply offered a few pertinent suggestions.” Munakata Reisi smiled, a bright ray from the sun, and Totsuka soaked in sunshine.

“I think the poor man was going to cry.” Totsuka glanced back towards the classroom, hands clasped behind his back and keeping pace as Reisi walked away. There was no need for Reisi to ask him to follow. Totsuka always did that on his own, ever since he'd been adopted into the Munakata family.

He'd kept his own name because 'Munakata' had never sounded right attached to his given name and besides, it belonged to those other people who called themselves his new parents. They were nice enough – simple and unremarkable, but giving and free with affection. His oldest brother Taishi too, was a big-hearted person who lavished attention on his younger brothers. Whenever someone told Totsuka that he was lucky to have been adopted by such good people he would smile and nod and agree.

But really, it was all the same to him, one family or another. That house was nice, and those people in it, but they didn't really hold his interest and if they went away one day, well, it would all turn out all right either way.

Reisi, though, Reisi was different.

“Is that so?” Reisi's voice was amused, the edge of a laugh, and his bearing regal and proud. Totsuka took a half step closer to him, waiting for the rest. “That is unfortunate. One should always be open to self improvement, even if it is from a student to a teacher.”

“Well, that's a point, but I don't think that person will see it that way,” Totsuka said with a shrug. “Any way you look at it, it's a student criticizing his teacher's methods as if he knew better, isn't it?”

“I believe he was pleased that a student would consider such things,” Reisi said. “There is much that could be refined in his methods. I simply wished to impart some wisdom.”

“Reisi's wisdom tends to lead to that teacher having a stomachache and going easy on lessons for a few days, doesn't it?” Totsuka said thoughtfully. “Hey, Reisi, my math class has an exam coming up so please offer suggestions to my teacher too.”

“I'm afraid I may only offer suggestions when I have properly observed the style of teaching,” Reisi said. “However if you believe there is truly room for improvement I will do my best.”

“Maybe another day.” Totsuka waved a hand. “If too many teachers go cry at once it might seem like bullying.”

“Perhaps.” Reisi laughed and Totsuka inclined his head closer to his companion (not 'brother,' not this person, Reisi had always been something beyond that from the very start).

Reisi was always different, and despite himself Totsuka wanted to see where this man would go.

–

King.

The moment Reisi stepped off the plane Totsuka felt the word echoing in his mind.

He knew something was different. He'd been unable to accompany Reisi overseas – Reisi had gotten a scholarship that covered his transportation to the United States but their parents couldn't afford to send Totsuka simply because he wanted to be with his “brother,” and besides those people had never understood that Totsuka's attraction had always been more than simple affection from a younger brother to an older one. So he'd been forced to remain behind, sailing through school and jumping from hobby to hobby, unattached to anything and anyone, waiting for the day Reisi returned home and things would finally get interesting again.

When the plane touched down though, Totsuka knew a wheel had finally begun to turn again

There had always been that regal bearing to Reisi's walk, always been that grace to his movements, but there was something deeper in it now – supernatural, he might have said, something that couldn't be touched or seen but which Totsuka was certain was nonetheless the aura of a King.

There was a young woman walking a step behind him, her face furrowed in half-confusion, talking to Reisi in low tones. He smiled at her brilliantly and for a moment Totsuka felt something like irritation, before Reisi turned to face him.

Reisi's eyes were fathomless and bright, his gait full of nothing but confidence, and he nodded briefly at the woman before stepping forward to meet Totsuka.

“Totsuka-kun.” Reisi held out a hand. “Will you follow me?”

There was no reason why, as if there were no need for explanations, no need to tell why he would ask this so suddenly out of the blue.

Even so, Totsuka raised his hand without hesitation.

“I will. King.”

Reisi laughed then, and Totsuka felt something stirring deep in his soul.

“Please, continue to call me 'Reisi.'”

–

“An unreasonable man.”

Those were the first words Munakata spoke to him, regarding the matter of Suoh Mikoto.

“Is that so? Your eyes were shining, Reisi.” Totsuka said the words easily, half a laugh, but his eyes were searching and he wondered if Reisi would recognize the look in them.

“I believe you are mistaken.” Reisi adjusted his glasses, gaze on the paperwork before him, and Totsuka idly sifted through his own papers. “I have no interest in such a person.”

“Awashima-san said you were acting unlike yourself.” The surprise in her voice had been clear as she'd described it, Reisi slamming a fist into the wall, the only time she had ever seen him angry.

(Totsuka couldn't recall ever seeing Reisi angry, and the dark grasping part of him was irritated that he hadn't seen it this time, that there was a side of Reisi he had never gotten to witness, and that Suoh Mikoto had been the one to bring it out.)

“A momentary misstep. It is difficult to reason with a man who knows nothing but power.” Reisi shook his head. “We must not give in to the manners of such a person. The Red King would stand against the justice and order that is the duty of Scepter 4 to uphold. I will not allow him to run wild as he wishes.”

“King really hates to lose, huh?” Totsuka applauded idly. “You're all fired up, Reisi.”

Reisi laughed softly, as if blowing such concerns away, but the look on his eyes was far away and Totsuka felt an odd wrenching in his chest.

“Perhaps that is so.” Reisi adjusted his glasses again. “In any case, Totsuka-kun, do you have an update for me?”

“Right. Everyone was very forthcoming this time.” Totsuka smiled brightly as he handed over the paperwork. As a man who couldn't wield power on anything more than the smallest of scales, information gathering was his forte instead. He'd already heard whispers in the ranks, men wondering who this person was so close to their King, who never drew his sword and held no rank. Totsuka didn't mind such things, of course. Awashima-san was Reisi's right hand and Totsuka was his assistant in the shadows, and that was enough for him.

“The Red King...” Reisi's voice was low as he looked over something else in the reports, and Totsuka didn't allow the shadow covering his heart to show in his face.

(“Kings are only attracted to other Kings,” Awashima would say later, and Totsuka thought perhaps he truly was a weak jealous thing after all.)

–

Totsuka stepped to the side as a young man walked out of Reisi's office, muttering to himself. Totsuka offered him a friendly smile – not that he expected Fushimi-kun to return it, of course, because even in the short time Fushimi had been with Scepter 4 he hadn't smiled at a single person. Even so, Reisi thought Fushimi was an interesting person and so Totsuka did as well, curious as to who this child was that had so captured Reisi's attention.

“Fushimi-kun seemed agitated.” Totsuka didn't bother knocking as he stepped into Reisi's office. Reisi looked up from the puzzle he had laid out on his desk, glasses shining. “Were you bullying him again, Reisi?”

“I am unaware of your meaning.” Reisi steepled his fingers as he looked at Totsuka and there was something in that gaze that made Totsuka want to remain still, to drink in that moment – here where he was the only thing in the line of his King's gaze, this reminder that regardless of Fushimi Saruhiko or the Red King it was still Totsuka who remained at his King's side, always.

“You shouldn't tease him, Reisi.” Totsuka set his papers down on the floor and settled himself against the edge of the desk, looking down at the puzzle. “You can't keep him in a box like the beetles, you know.”

“I would not intend to. He would be of no use in that case.” Reisi laughed, shaking his head. “Fushimi-kun is an interesting person, is he not?”

“Oh, very.” Totsuka picked up a piece and carefully laid it down in a likely spot. “It's rare for you to go after a person like that yourself. And to take him from the Red clan, too. Awashima-san tells me Kusanagi-san is upset that you cheated.”

“It is no cheat, to offer a wayward child another path home.” Reisi easily moved the piece away to a more correct spot. “I believe Fushimi-kun is fitting in well here.”

“Hmm, do you think? He seems a little lonely.” Totsuka smiled brightly. “Maybe you need to bond with him some more, King.”

“That is a splendid suggestion as well.” Reisi's tone suggested that he wasn't quite teasing, and Totsuka almost felt a bit sorry for Fushimi.

“Don't scare him away too much, Reisi.” Totsuka reached for another puzzle piece and his eyes caught sight of one of the papers still sitting on the desk. “Oh? Fushimi-kun named his saber after all, huh?”

“It has been given a name.” Reisi placed another puzzle piece into its proper spot.

“'Subaru.'” Totsuka read the word out loud, and his eyes strayed to the sword at Reisi's waist. “That was nice of you to name it for him, Reisi.”

“Merely a thought.” Reisi smiled to himself, and Totsuka leaned a little closer to him.

“King puts a lot of consideration into these kinds of things,” Totsuka mused. “Hey, Reisi, did you know Gotou-kun from squad D named his 'Pochi?'” Totsuka laughed a little at the thought.

“I have heard. If that is the name he feels will suit his weapon best, I have no objection. By giving his sword such a name perhaps he hopes it will be a loyal companion, and will treat it as such.”

“And 'Subaru?' Pleiades, right? You've always liked stars, hmm?” Totsuka murmured.

“A cluster of stars. The meaning is up to Fushimi-kun of course. But I do hope he takes it to heart.” Reisi placed another piece. “You have yet to name your own saber, Totsuka-kun.”

Totsuka's hand did not even go to the hilt of the sword at his side, as he imagined the hand of one of the swordsman troops would have. He had been given the sword merely as a precaution and as a way of transferring power, nothing else – Totsuka's Blue power was too weak to channel through the sword anyway, and so instead his drawing was less a declaration of battle than a cry for help. If that sword was ever drawn it would send a distress beacon to Scepter 4 headquarters, requesting backup. He had yet to draw it even once, and often forgot it was there.

“Maybe my sword is too weak for a name.” Totsuka laughed easily, as if it was nothing. “A tracking bug on my PDA would work just the same, you know.”

“There is a reason that sword is at your side,” Reisi said simply, putting another piece of his puzzle into place, and Totsuka thought he would never get tired of the soft click as a new piece of the world was set into the right spot. “A name is important for such a companion.”

“Hmm...maybe I'm waiting for you to name it?” Totsuka feigned a pout. “You named Fushimi-kun's, but not mine?”

“Is that so?” Reisi chuckled, but there was something sharp in his eyes, the mind that never stopped thinking, and Totsuka couldn't help but meet that gaze with his own though he would have simply ducked his head and smiled at anyone else. “Tell me, Totsuka-kun...why do you truly believe I gave you that sword?”

“Hmm...so everyone would match?” Totsuka smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “I'm a weak person who really can't wield a sword at all, so it's not fair to try sparring with me without warning, Reisi.”

Reisi gave him another fathomless look, the kind even Totsuka couldn't read, before touching a hand to the hilt of Totsuka's sword.

“Gaia.”

“Hmm?” Totsuka cocked his head.

“It will be a good name.” Reisi had already turned his attention back to his puzzle, and Totsuka simply shrugged and perched himself closer on the desk, watching his King create the world from a thousand shattered pieces.

Later he looked it up online, the name Reisi had chosen.

“Gaia I. A new cluster, high mass and bright but undetected until recently due to being hidden in the glare of the brightest star in the sky, Sirius.”

Totsuka laughed softly to himself and wondered how long Reisi had been waiting for him to ask for a name for his sword, the same as with Fushimi. Well, it was a good name either way.

He had always been there just behind Reisi's shine. It was the only place he could be, to see more of that shine than anyone else.

–

Totsuka took his time as he walked through the near-empty hallways of Scepter 4, unhurried. Most of the force was busy outside and Reisi was doubtless occupied as well, so there was no rush.

Kusuhara-kun's funeral was today, after all. It was unfortunate.

He'd stayed around for just a bit, helping to ease everyone's spirits. He'd even let Hidaka cry on his shoulder, though Hidaka had needed to bend down a bit for it. But that was another of Totsuka's jobs, being the mood-maker of the clan in times of trouble.

Part of him hadn't felt bad though, even with it being a funeral. Kusuhara had caught Reisi's eye, another 'King's favorite,' and even Totsuka hadn't been sure what was so interesting about that kid. It wasn't like Fushimi, who Totsuka had already found to be endlessly entertaining to the point he fully understood his King's interest. But Kusuhara had been pleasant and a bit cute, and apparently very attached to Zenjoh-san.

Zenjoh Gouki...Totsuka shuffled the papers in his hands. He recalled Reisi's decision to bring that man into Scepter 4 regardless of that person's own wishes. The man who had killed the previous Blue King Habari Jin with his own sword. A man like a demon, or so Totsuka had heard. He'd seen Zenjoh a few times, working in the records department, and had tried to start up conversation more than once.

He'd been rebuffed every time. Totsuka wasn't sure if he was simply disliked due to his proximity to Reisi, or if there was another reason. It wasn't as if that was something Totsuka could easily understand, the type of man who could put his hands around the hilt of a blade and slice through the neck of the man he'd chosen to serve, and still continue as if there were other things in the world worth his interest.

Ah. The door to Reisi's office slammed open and that very person walked out, Zenjoh Gouki with fists clenched and face twisted into a grimace. He stopped for just a moment upon seeing Totsuka and Totsuka smiled and waved.

Something odd flashed through Zenjoh's eyes for a moment – disgust maybe, or pity, and Totsuka stared back at him in confusion.

“I'm the last person you want to see today, huh?” Totsuka murmured, putting his smile back into place, and Zenjoh simply walked past him without a word.

Totsuka stared after him before making his way through the open door into Reisi's office. Reisi was staring out the window, hands behind his back.

“Zenjoh-san really doesn't like me, does he?” Totsuka said airily. Reisi didn't turn and Totsuka's brow furrowed slightly. “Reisi?”

“Perhaps that is so.” Reisi turned to look at him then and there was something strangely regretful in his gaze – and somehow, Totsuka felt almost as if it wasn't directed at that funeral outside, that it wasn't intended for Kusuhara Takeru at all.

“Reisi...?” Totsuka took a step forward and Reisi shook his head, returning to his desk.

“It is nothing to be concerned over. Were you able to get the intelligence we needed?”

“Everyone was so talkative.” Totsuka smiled and let himself forget it, the pity in Zenjoh's eyes and the regret in Reisi's, and moved to stand by Reisi's side as always.

It wouldn't disappear entirely from his mind though – those regretful eyes, and Zenjoh Gouki who had killed his King with his own two hands.

–

“Had a good talk, Reisi?” There was a soft snow falling, and Totsuka sat up as Reisi stepped back into the van.

Kusanagi Izumo was dead, killed by a single bullet and a rogue King. Suoh Mikoto's Sword was crumbling by bits and pieces, and the jail cell at Scepter 4 that had held him was nothing but rubble.

Reisi still smelled like cigarette smoke – not his own brand, the smell Totsuka would recognize even though Reisi so rarely smoked, and even so he kept smiling.

“That man is always unreasonable.” Reisi's tone was regal but there was slight clenching to his hands, a tightening around his eyes, that made Totsuka's smile all the more brittle to match it.

“So no peace treaty?” Totsuka mused. He was the only one who had been made aware of exactly where their King was going on a dark snowy night when they were supposed to be maintaining position at the mouth of the bridge that led to the school island, where the Red King and the Red clan waited.

Reisi didn't reply, leaning against the door of the van and staring up at the snow. Totsuka stood and walked over to hover at his side, feeling as if even so Reisi was too far away for his hands to reach.

“What are you going to do, Reisi?” Totsuka spoke the words quietly into the air, where they turned into a soft wisp of white cloud and blew away.

“We will advance with sword in hand, for our cause is pure.” Reisi idly put a finger to his mouth, as if he could still taste the cigarette that had been there – but Reisi did nothing idly, even the smallest of movements, and everything inside Totsuka felt tightly wound like a rusting spring.

“Is that so?” Totsuka murmured. “You were going to stop him, weren't you?”

“As is the duty of the Blue King.”

“And as Munakata Reisi? What is your duty?”

Reisi turned to look at him, not replying, and even so Totsuka knew that Reisi wasn't looking at him at all.

–

The soft ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound in the room as Totsuka stepped inside Reisi's office. The lights were off but Reisi was still there, sitting at his desk, Tenrou laid out there before him.

The Red King's blood was still drying on the blade, and Totsuka smiled. He was nothing but a twisted mess inside, ugly enough that Reisi had to already know the truth, but right here, right now, he could do nothing more than smile.

“It's late, Reisi.”

“Oya?” Reisi looked up at him, a thin flat smile on his face, politeness and etiquette more than emotion – Totsuka had been born faking smiles and he could spot his own kind even here, in the dark. “My apologies, Totsuka-kun. You need not wait up for me.”

“It's too quiet around by myself.” Totsuka huffed, gesturing widely because it might be enough to make Reisi laugh. It didn't, not this time, not this night, but he played the role anyway the best he knew how. “You haven't made a move yet.”

He gestured to the chess set still sitting out next to Reisi's desk. Chess had been a hobby months ago, but Reisi enjoyed it so Totsuka clung to bits of knowledge for his sake. They would play games that lasted weeks, a move here and there – Totsuka played aimlessly, never remembering his last move by the time he made his next one, but Reisi always knew exactly the flow of the game no matter how much time had passed.

“It seems I have been remiss. Tomorrow I shall continue our game.” Reisi's eyes were on the sword again and Totsuka felt his chest burn and his breath catch, but he kept smiling. That was the trick, the best move he knew how to play – keep smiling, and everything will be fine.

“I've been getting into cooking lately. Did you know potatoes can go into almost anything?” He said whatever words came to mind, because it was dark and there was blood on Reisi's sword.

“Is that so? How fascinating.” Reisi's words were polite and curious, but there was no brightness in his eyes.

“Kings are only attracted to other Kings.”

Somewhere Homra was dark and fragmented, falling to bits with the loss of their King. Somewhere Suoh Mikoto's body lay in the snow, and his blood had all but dried on Reisi's sword.

“I'm going to bed.” Totsuka half-turned, and waited.

“It is good for you to get proper rest.” Reisi responded as Totsuka had expected, not as he'd hoped, and it felt as if something he'd thought he would finally manage to grasp was still slipping through his fingers.

“Then good night, King.”

Totsuka turned and walked away, letting the door close behind him. He leaned backwards slightly, head tilted back, and breathed in the night air.

Tomorrow, maybe he'd ask Reisi to start the chess game over again.

–

“Captain's Weismann level is...”

He heard the words clearly, standing just outside the office door. Awashima and Fushimi were inside, busy as always, a rustling of paper and the familiar click of Fushimi's tongue having caught Totsuka's attention. He'd been about to step inside when he heard Awashima's voice, hushed with concern.

Fushimi clicked his tongue again, said something in a voice too low for Totsuka to hear, and Totsuka turned and walked the other way down the hall.

He knew, of course. Reisi knew, and so Totsuka did as well. The fate that befell Suoh Mikoto, Kagutsu Genji. The fate that surely befell nearly all Kings, eventually.

The Blue Sword of Damocles had cracked. It was only a matter of time now.

It wasn't as if he was afraid. Everything would be fine, after all. It was Reisi. Reisi, who had held his interest from the very start, who had always been meant to be his King. The one thing that Totsuka had decided to see through to the end, and not let go of.

He thought of Zenjoh Gouki's gaze full of pity, of Reisi's blood-stained sword and the chess game that still wasn't complete.

“Everything will turn out all right, don't you think?” Hollow words, a bandage over a crumbling sword, but Totsuka smiled and continued onward anyway. There wasn't much else a weak person like him could do.

Nothing but grasp at what he had always grasped at, and Totsuka kept walking.

–

“Totsuka-kun.”

Reisi's voice was calm, waiting. As if he'd expected this outcome all along.

Intended it.

Reisi had a contingency, for everything. Only now, with the sword in his grip and his King in front of him, did Totsuka find himself wondering if this was what he had been all along. A contingency.

It didn't matter. Reisi's plans were beyond his mind, and that had never mattered. A King who only saw other Kings, who was looking at him with expectation in his eyes.

“Reisi.” It was the space of a heartbeat, his feet moving over the ground and the Sword above Reisi's head crumbling inch by inch, and Totsuka's sword flashed silver in the dim light of the pouring rain.

A breath, inhaled, and Totsuka smiled again as he let the sword fall from his hands.

Reisi's eyes widened – heartbeat, heartbeat, Totsuka could count them in his mind, just a moment between when the sword left his grip and the soft clang of metal on pavement as it hit the ground, and an expression he'd never seen before on Reisi's face, the look of a person whose perfect plan had somehow gone awry.

It was so rare, that he could catch Reisi off guard like this, and Totsuka laughed as he crossed the space between them in one more step.

It was the first and last opportunity, after all, and in the space of a breath Totsuka pressed his lips over Reisi's – brief, the first and final, and he breathed out his apologies for Reisi's ears alone.

“Sorry, King.”

Reisi's eyes were wide and deep, the whole of the universe, and Totsuka felt the ground shaking around them, a Sword falling faster and faster as he wrapped his arms around Reisi's shoulder and kissed him again as everything faded into white.

This is the way the world ends.

[chalcanthite]

krarepairweek | day 5: colours/clans

collab with @endless-season!!!

[fabzthecat]

K Rare Pair Week - 2018: Day 02           ↳Alternate Universe: The Prince & The Dragon

Wellp this time the twitter poll end on a tie and I just go for the Au I feel more comfortable to draw because is the one that i have the most developed(?). I’m posting this horribly late but this week has being a nightmare for me... Anyways a slight explanation and extra sketches under the read more:

Kay then, this an AU that born from a random facebook post where the signs was compared with medieval beigns and Taurus end up beign a Dragon and Pisces a princess/prince lol.

In a really old but small kingdom peace reigned, the people since the creation of the village (that becomes a kingdom with the years) has an ancient tradition where they sacrifice a virgind and pure soul to the dragon the lives in the montains. In exchange for that sacrifice the dragon let them lives on their territory and bless them with a year of good harvest and weather.

One day when the new king take the throne, decree this tradition to end because he and his queen though it was a barbaric act. The people get mad at their royalty for this but they can’t do anything because when they try it the army interferes.

Some years lather the royal couple have their first son,a prince with golden hair like the sunshine’s of the dawn, just like his mother and clear blue eyes like the sky in the noon, but cold like the snow on the winter, just like his father.

14 years passed and the young prince grew up healthy and skilled in different aspects like sword battle, archery, liking on the lecture and politics, all to be a good successor of the king. But the prince grew all alone, only with the company of his instructors and his servants, people who he never get any kind of connection out of the duties. An oppressive and suffocating loneliness lead his days from the dawn to the dusk, but with the years he learn to live with those feelings inside of him with a cold mask on the outside. “The future king can’t show any debility to the world!” says his father every day since he has memory and that’s what he always did. Hide all his emotions so not a single pinch of weakness can be seeing by anyone.

The day before his birthday number 14 the people of the town start a revolt and get able to enter on the castle lead by a desertor of the army. Eric was taken as a prissioner/ trophy and was forced to see how his parents get killed. After that the ex soldier do whatever he wanted with him as he take the throne by himself.

One year passed and the people of the kingdom demanded the sacrifice of the prince to make the peace with the dragon because the winter that year comes colder than never on their history. The man couldn’t refuse and bassically throw Eric on the Dragon cave.

After this incident ocurred the Dragon felt compasion for the terrified young man and after that night both started to life together.

Basic Character Designs:

[dyoun77]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: K (Anime) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Adolf K. Weismann/Yatogami Kurou Characters: Yatogami Kurou, Adolf K. Weismann, a little bit of Neko and Hieda Additional Tags: Really OOC sorry !, Post-Season 2, Get ready for the feels, krarepairweek2018 Summary:

Shiro has a mysterious disease. He is getting weaker and makes crises from time to time. It is an unknown disease. But the Hakumaitou trio knows with no doubt what it is caused by.

[k-rarepair-week]

Sorry it’s so late!!

[tatsupyon]

Krarepairweek2018: Day 07           ↳Wolf & Sheep

[constastan]

K Rarepair Week Day 2: AU

“And anyway, Totsuka, don’t come into a bar when you’re just a middle schooler.”

colored by @defeateddetectives, an amazing art ninja

[endless-season]

K Rarepair Week Day 4: Unlikely Love

Vaguely gestures in the direction of Red King Totsuka MunaTotsu AU. (Read this to feel happy) (Read this to feel sad) Thanks Mirai :|

Bonus:

[pu-san]

K Rare Pair Week Day 7: Free Day

Collaboration with @endless-season

[kurohfic]

Title: Toxic Chocolate Pairing: Ot3! Kuroh/Shiro/Neko (could be interpreted as platonic if that is your preference!) Rating: K Summary: Shiro thinks Valentine’s day traditions are pretty neat, Kuroh thinks they are stupid. Neko thinks they are  absolutely delicious! Aka Hakumaitou celebrate Valentine’s day! A/N: Written for K-Project Rare Pair Week! Please enjoy :D The prompt for this submission was Holidays! (I always appreciate feedback) Link to Ao3 (x)

There was this funny kind of look on her face as the date approached. The various marketing teams initiated by the Gold Clan took advantage of a consumer driven society by spreading posters, advertising new flavors, and invading every store, from the corner supermarkets to the bustling shopping malls in the center of the city.

Valentine’s Day was looming, and with it the rest -- the color pink, the aroma of roses and cocoa powder, hopeful glances, and broken hearts.

For the members of the Silver Clan, Valentine’s Day did not live up to the expected hype for various reasons.

Seeing as Shiro had spent a majority of his everlasting lifespan in isolation, he found within himself an appreciation for the intentions behind it, but nothing much more beyond that. The candy sweet reminders did not strike any deep sense of motivation within, seeing as he’d long since fallen out of the tradition of exchange. Back in his grounded days there had never been much interaction with people his age beyond his sister’s company. Despite their rather cunning and mischievious presentation there was not much time for amorous interaction, between the chaos of the war and their groundbreaking research. It had never seemed lonely so long as Clauida was at his side, then after… Then after, Shiro was more prone to observation than participation.

Even though his experience with the holiday was slightly fresher, Kuroh found that the customes reaped every Feburary were little more than a pestering headache. In the village where he’d lived with Ichigen Miwa, there’d been a shortage of eligible bachelors, in fact many of the residence were already married and starting their own families. However, through the periphery of his youth he’d spotted the occasional woman nervously delivering a package of homemade goods, an offering to their local celebrity, who always accepted with a gracious smile, without any sense of obligation to future courtship.

Kuroh himself had never noticed the toll of time, or the fact that he’d grown into one of those rare bachelors until his 16th year when a girl, the niece of their local grocer and new to the neighborhood, shoved a misshapen parsal into his hands. The burnt smell within had wafted through his nostrils in an instant. He’d stared with great shock as the girl bolted immediately afterward, and Master Ichigen had chuckled softly once they’d cleared earshot. His hand landed reassuringly upon his pupil’s shoulder. Kuroh had not derived much pleasure from the experience as a whole, not entirely fond of sweets himself, or the awkward exchanges faced thereafter whenever they were in need of fresh fruits and vegetables.

The outlier of the group thrived in Neko. Growing up as a cat she had little opportunity for the festive give and take of Valentine’s Day. As a gorgeous young woman who loved snacks, she found this to be one of the greatest shortcomings of her generally exciting lifestyle. She did not care much about the romance associated with the holiday, she was not lonely anymore with her Shiro, and Kurosuke to keep her company. However, she certainly saw the appeal, people proving their interest by providing delicious snacks, with no serious commitment upon the acceptance of the treat.

As a new student at Ashinaka High School, Valentine’s Day sailed by with another festival. Kukuri claimed that instead of swapping cookies and tainting the educational environment with unwarranted declarations of love, the high school would direct that energy towards paper mache, costumes, and art! Neko had noticed with much amusement that this claim did not sway several of the boys from edging around the territory, throwing hopeful glances in their direction, until finally a pack, lead by Mishina, swarmed the unsuspecting girl with gifts and cards. It was a highly amusing transgression until Neko realized that not a single boy in the jumble had meant to gain her attention.

“It’s probably because you’re so new!” Kukuri had attempted to consol once she’d vanquished the so called disturbance. “Don’t worry, I’m sure next Valentine's Day you’ll get plenty of sweets!”

After she’d accepted the hypothesis, and regained her prior enthusiasm, Neko had bounced home to see if perhaps the two boys who knew her best had prepared anything in her honor. And there it was, that funny look on her face, curious when Shiro returned to the apartment after a long day of lectures, plopping a tiny package on their coffee table before retreating to relax on the bed.

“What is it, Shiro?” Neko asked, the enthusiasm rich in her voice as she bounded to examine the parcel.

“Just a little gift from one of my students,” he sighed in explanation rolling his stiff shoulders back, and relishing the pull of the stretch.

“From a student?” it was Kuroh piping in, there was a disapproving look on his face, as he leaned out from the kitchen, apron in place, and something that looked a lot like flower spread across his nose.

“Yummy!” Neko cawed as she unwrapped the gift revealing a decorated box of chocolates to her curious stare.

“You can have it if you like,” Shiro replied, smiling at the young woman before turning his attention to Kuroh, still looming in the doorframe. “Don’t worry, Kuroh, it’s nothing lecherous, she brought them in for everyone, the other students too.”

“And you accepted?” the disapproval still clear in Kuroh’s voice.

Shiro replied with a quiet smile, “There’s nothing wrong with a little holiday spirit.”

“Yeah!” Neko agreed, licking her lips as she scarfed down three of the chocolates immediately, popping one after the other, mushing them together in her mouth as one chocolatey glob. They were obviously store bought, but it was better than nothing. Though he did not appear entirely convinced, Kuroh at least seemed to be moving on from the impropriety of accepting a Valentines day gift from a student. The accusation in his expression was morphing into something closer to exasperation. He’d turned his attention to Neko now.

“You’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Neko is tired of fish!” she announced with exaggerated resistance. At this proclamation both men stared at her with individual interpretations of doubt.

“In that case I’ll stop cooking it for you,” Kuroh challenged. He’d taken up the role of chef without complaints, it was a part of his nature, he enjoyed the task of caretaker, the thoughtfulness that was prescribed to every meal. The sated looks of his two friends were yet another inspiration. He kept this much to himself as he stared Neko down. He loved to cook for people who appreciated his efforts, but Neko’s spoiled and unwieldy attitude often drove him to the edge of his patience. He could see the panic swarming in her eyes as she measured his bluff, not sure if it was safe to resist with dinner on the line.

“No!” she backpedaled. “I’m tired of fish because it’s Valentines Day! And on Valentines Day you’re supposed to eat chocolates and cake!”

“On Valentines Day you’re supposed to embarrass yourself and and confess sordid intentions, not fall into the vapid trap set up by commercial companies. Besides,” he leveled her with a challenging glare. “Chocolate is toxic for cats.”

“Stupid, Kurosuke!” Neko spat back, at the end of her argument. After aggressively shoving the final chocolate into her mouth, she leapt towards the bed where Shiro sat observing the altercation with a look of fond exasperation.

He pet Neko’s hair comfortingly, sitting back to brace against the wall.

“I think Valentines Day is about putting your heart on the line. Telling the one you fancy how you truly feel, for better or for worse.” He smiled then, “Of course it’s hard to experience it in full from an airship, so I’m no expert, but it sounds nice… In theory.”

When he looked up, Kuroh was staring at him with an indecipherable expression on his face, and Neko, on the other side of him, was grinning, her interest renewed once more.

“And to eat cake with them if all goes well!” she amended. “And if not, steal their cake and then there is more for you anyway!”

“You’re relentless,” Kuroh sighed.

“And you’re still making fish for dinner, right?”

Shiro laughed, Neko smiled, pleased with Shiro’s amusement, and Kuroh pivoted back into the kitchen to finish cooking up their supper.

It was the next evening, the evening after Valentines Day, as they closed off their meal, and Shiro raised his hands to offer the usual thanks when Kuroh cut him off.

“I made dessert for tonight,” he announced in a firm voice though his eyes avoided the startled expressions of both of his companions.

“Dessert?” Shiro parroted, as Neko blinked appraisingly.

“You know,” Kuroh shrugged, eyeing the young woman between them. “Since you made such a big deal over it yesterday…”

Her reaction was immediate.

“Yay! Thank you, Kurosuke! Sweet dessert, you do like Valentine’s Day after all!” Neko exclaimed. She’d leaped once more in total disregard of personal space to wrap her arms tight around his slender frame. It was far easier to get a hold of him when he was seated and closer to her own height. As he’d suffered the indignities of Neko’s closeness on many occasions in the past, he’d more or less grown used to the treatment. Inexplicably, the color of his cheeks deepened to a light pink, as he wriggled out of her grasp.

“I don’t like Valentine’s Day,” he grunted, already retreating towards the kitchen. “But you obviously put meaning into it…”

As he trailed off Neko and Shiro exchanged jolly smiles. “Thank you, Kuroh!” Shrio called after him.

It turned out that Kuroh had baked a fresh fruit tart, that despite not having any chocolate still tasted incredible. Shiro demanded seconds following his initial slice, and Neko thirds, so that none of the cake remained by the end of the sitting.

“Wow, Kuroh,” Shiro sat back at last, patting his deliciously full stomach. “It was decedent!”

“It was nothing,” he replied softly, gathering the plates in preparation of the clean up.

However, his hand was pinned to the table before he could rise to his feet. Neko was at his side again, staring at him with her mixed match eyes and that suspicious little grin.

“The sweet dessert was yummy, Kurosuke. But cake only covers part of the process.”

Before any reply could be formulated, or the meaning behind that look could dawn on him, the hold around Kuroh’s hand tightened and a pair of smooth lips pecked lightly against the side of his cheek.

“Yes, Kuroh,” it was Shiro’s voice floating into his ear. He too was suddenly closer than anticipated. An odd intoxication flooded Kuroh’s mind as if it had been wine instead of cake. The skin where Neko’s lips had landed still blazed in an echo of her kiss.

“Thank you for the sweets,” Shiro’s voice was a whisper curling around his ear. Then, a second pair of lips pressed slower to the opposite side of his face.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” they said in near unison, sandwiching their baker between two warm bodies, and delaying the process of his chores. Kuroh, to his credit, loosened his grip slightly around the sullied plates, and let himself be held for the moment.

“You idiots,” he murmured sweetly as they smiled against his cheeks.

[mistleto-3]

After All This Time

When Misaki realises one of the members of the clan he’s just joined is an old childhood friend from before he came out as a trans man, he expects things to very badly. 

Pairing: Kamamoto Rikio/(trans male!)Yata Misaki

9,207 words. Fluff, angst, smut. CW: mentions of internalised homophobia and mild transphobia. Mentions of past unrequited saru/mi, and of miko/totsu. 

For @k-rarepair-week 2018, Day 2: Alternate Universe. 

AO3 | Ko-Fi

Ah, shit.

As Tatara introduced Misaki and Saruhiko to their new clan, it finally clicked in Misaki’s head why that blond guy looked so familiar.

“I’m Kamamoto Rikio, nice to meet you.”

His best friend when he was about 7 years old had been called Kamamoto, too. Except back then he’d been chubby and meek, and now he was tall and lithe, his hair reaching down to his collar, and a welcoming smile spreading across his handsome face. Then again, Misaki had looked very different when they were kids too. He greeted the two new members with kind confidence. Misaki hadn’t seen the spark of recognition he was dreading in his eyes yet, but maybe Rikio just had a good poker face.

Still, Rikio didn’t say anything aside from that, so the brief jolt of fear that Rikio would out him to his new clan slowly subsided as the rest of the members introduced themselves.

Or at least, it subsided until Rikio approached him later on in the day. Misaki was by himself – Saruhiko had left not long before, saying his PDA battery was nearly dead so he wanted to head out to get his charger (though Misaki thought it was likely someone would have a compatible charger handy, but Saruhiko had left before Misaki had a chance to suggest he ask around). The moment Rikio sat down beside him, out of earshot of the rest of the patrons of the bar and a conspicuously short while after Misaki had been left alone, suspicion flared in Misaki’s gut.

“So… I thought you looked familiar earlier but I couldn’t quite put my finger on where I knew you from…” Rikio began, and Misaki felt himself tense, like a dog raising its hackles. “And it clicked a little while later but it seemed like something that should be discussed privately. We were friends when we were kids, weren’t we?”

“What’s it to you?” Misaki wondered in the back of his mind if maybe he shouldn’t be so snippy towards his new clan members if he was supposed to be making friends, but it had just sort of slipped out that way. The alarm he’d thought had vanished had flared up again with a vengeance, and he quickly found himself on the defensive. Panic was beginning to constrict his chest; Homra was supposed to be his new start where nobody knew, where he could just be himself without having to worry about the looks he’d get behind his back. To have it ruined so soon…

“Well, I remember you as, well, a girl, but Totsuka-san referred to you with masculine pronouns, and I just wanted to make sure…”

“Yeah, I’m a dude now, so what?” Misaki hissed. “You lost a bunch of weight but I ain’t gonna go around telling everyone you used to be fat when you were a kid, and if you know what’s best for you…”

Looking somewhat taken aback by Misaki’s aggression, Rikio interrupted: “Oh, no no, I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure I really had gotten the right person, and so I knew how to refer to you – you still use the same name, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t like people calling me by my first name…” Admittedly, Misaki was a little caught off guard by how Rikio was handling this – he didn’t have much experience with people just accepting that he was transgender like it was no big deal.

“I can’t say I know much about this kind of stuff, but we were friends, so you can trust me. I won’t tell the others. Can’t say I ever really saw you as a girl anyway… you were always different to Ayumi and everyone else I knew. But like I said, I’m not super educated on all this stuff…”

“Ask away,” Misaki grumbled. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to be so accommodating; he supposed he felt bad for snapping at Rikio pre-emptively, and part of him was just… weirded out by how nice he was being. “But not about any weird stuff!”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Just Fushimi. We went to the same middle school before I was out. I don’t figure anyone else needs to.”

“And… pardon me if I phrase this wrong… how do you look so much… well, like a guy?”

“I get a shot of testosterone in my ass every few weeks.”

“Ahh, I didn’t know that was a thing people could do… I almost didn’t recognise you, it was only when Totsuka-san said your name that I realised who you were. I won’t ask you too much about the details, just… is there anything you don’t want me to say or call you, or anything you don’t want me to do…?”

“Just don’t say girly shit about me, and call me by my family name and not my first name, and obviously don’t tell anyone, otherwise it’s fine.”

Rikio nodded, seeming satisfied, and then to Misaki’s relief he changed the subject. “I always wondered what became of you after I moved away, you know. I missed you, and I’m glad you’re at Homra; it’s good to see you after all this time. We should catch up some time – I just bought a bunch of new games in the sales, do you still like playing video games?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You could come over some time and we could hang out… Maybe not exactly like old times ‘cause we’re grown up and stuff now.”

“You mean you’re thin and I’m a guy?”

Rikio chuckled. “I’m not always, you know. I just lose my appetite in the warmer months, but as soon as autumn rolls around, I put it all back on again.”

“That’s weird.”

“Says you,” Rikio poked back, but his tone was gentle and he was smiling. It was a bit like the playful but harmless banter he’d seen the other clan members exchanging all day. He seemed genuinely happy to see his old friend, and for the most part unperturbed by how different he looked now. He just spoke to him the way he spoke to everyone else.

It was then that Misaki realised that, for the first time, he was really one of the guys. And it felt good.

Maybe it was that feeling that made Misaki leave Saruhiko on the backburner, but he was just so quiet and gloomy all the time, and it was difficult to include him when he sat off in some corner of the bar on his PDA, while Misaki wanted to hang out with his new guy friends, and with Rikio. It was refreshing to reconnect with his old friend again, especially when Rikio had seemingly taken it upon himself to be as supportive as humanly possible. He had obviously done hours of research after learning that Misaki was a trans man, and started doing things like reminding Misaki to take his binder off when he’d been wearing it too long, offering to teach him how to shave his facial hair when pubescent stubble started to sprout across his jawline, and yelling at the other clansmen whenever they made jokes in poor taste, even though they were never directed a Misaki.

Misaki even eventually started to feel comfortable talking about that sort of stuff with him – asking Rikio if his voice seemed lower, going to him to celebrate the little bits of progress, like the muscle gain he’d been noticing, and the trail of wiry hairs leading down from his belly button. Rikio always greeted the announcements with enthusiasm and support. He had even offered to travel with Misaki to Thailand for top surgery out of his own pocket when Misaki could afford the procedure, and he’d gently advised Misaki to speak to Izumo about helping to fund it, but hadn’t pressed the matter when Misaki had refused.

As worried as Misaki had been when he joined Homra, Rikio’s kindness had eased his fears as he got settled in the clan and got to know everyone, and nobody gave him odd looks or snickered behind his back. He was one of the guys – nobody treated him like he was fragile, or offered to carry heavy things for him, nobody pulled their punches because they were worried he couldn’t hold his own, and it was a dream come true. It wasn’t long before Misaki started to feel like he belonged, rather than feeling like some imposter who everyone just saw as a girl. For the first time in a really long time, he was truly happy.

And then Saruhiko betrayed him.

It took Misaki a long time to finally wander out of the dark alleyway where his old friend had left him; he had stood there for ten minutes in shock after he’d walked away, so numb he could barely move, barely even think.

When his limbs finally started cooperating again, the first place he thought to go to was Rikio’s. When he arrived, his shock had given way to rage, and he was pissed, ranting and raving and pacing around the living room as he yelled about the nerve of him, how dare he disrespect Homra that way. It was only when he’d shouted himself hoarse that he finally collapsed onto the couch beside his friend, and suddenly hot tears were pricking in his eyes and there was nothing he could do to stop them spilling over. Rikio put his arm around him and pulled him in to weep against his shoulder.

Misaki didn’t know how long he cried for, but nothing he did would stop the flood of tears, stop the ragged breaths tearing up his throat. Every sob mortified him a little more.

“Y-you better not tell anyone about this,” he warned weakly, when he’d finally cried himself out, his voice still thick with tears.

“Your secrets are safe with me,” Rikio reassured. “But being upset doesn’t make you any less of a man, you know. Men are allowed to feel emotions too, you’re allowed to be sad and cry, especially in a situation like this. Don’t bottle it up. If you need to cry, cry – even through tears, you could still beat up anyone who dared to make fun of you.”

Misaki felt a little better after that.

Slowly, he started to heal, but feeling better only came with a lot of help from Rikio. Misaki spent a lot of nights at his friend’s place in those first few weeks, ranting or drinking or crying or distracting himself, doing whatever he could think of to try and take the edge off as Rikio listened without complaint. And when Misaki had shown up on his doorstep one day, teary-eyed with a sharps container and a vial, mumbling about how Saruhiko had always given him his T shots before and Misaki was no good at it, Rikio agreed without hesitation to take over the duty.

Eventually, all the yelling and crying and not thinking about it kind of worked. Missing his friend didn’t hurt all the time anymore, and the keen pang of the knowledge that he was gone, which sometimes had hurt so much that Saruhiko might as well have burned off Misaki’s insignia as well as his own, slowly faded into an intermittent ache. Eventually, it subsided to the point that sometimes, it didn’t bother him at all, like a broken bone that had healed up, but when you moved just so the scarring would twinge, reminding him impatiently not to forget about the pain all together. Some days it hurt worse than others. Some days it really stung to remember that the first person who had known about him and supported him for who he was, the person who he’d thought would be by his side forever, was gone now.

But no matter what, Rikio was always there for him, even on the worst days. And Misaki was sure he wouldn’t have healed as fast if it wasn’t for him.

And then all of a sudden Rikio started acting… weird. It was a few months after Saruhiko had left when his personality seemed to morph completely in the space of a few days. He became oddly quiet, he didn’t ask Misaki to hang out so much anymore, he seemed distracted, almost nervous, and whilst he was unfailingly there for Misaki when the rage or the sadness bubbled back to the surface, the rest of the time he seemed weirdly distant. Like he was uncomfortable or something. Misaki immediately jumped to the worst conclusions – maybe he was embarrassed by Misaki getting upset, or he was uncomfortable or didn’t want to help him anymore, maybe he was weirded out by giving Misaki his T shots, weirded out by Misaki being trans in general, maybe now he’d had some time to think about it he wasn’t cool with it after all, maybe he still saw Misaki as a girl and was uncomfortable around him because of it, maybe, maybe, maybe…

It was a while before Misaki snapped – as much as the worries about why his friend was acting like this chased each other around in his head, equally, he was almost embarrassed to say something about it. After a couple of weeks or so, he reluctantly came to the conclusion that he was scared of losing Rikio too, of him leaving just like Saruhiko had left, and confronting him would make all of this real. It might even be the last straw in making Rikio abandon him too.

Since Misaki joined Homra, Rikio had slowly become his best friend, the person he trusted the most, the person he always thought of first to talk to about stuff, and now he was withdrawing and Misaki was terrified to admit he was terrified. Confronting Rikio about his weird behaviour would mean acknowledging he really was pulling away, and Misaki was growing more and more petrified of losing him, because he was coming to the uncomfortable conclusion that he cared about Rikio more than anyone else in the world. Rikio was like his safe place, his comrade in arms, the person who always had his back no matter what. It was sort of scary to care about him this much, after the last person who he’d gotten this close to had abandoned him…

Was he as close as he’d been to Saruhiko?

That was kind of an alarming thought.

Because, if Misaki was completely honest with himself, he had sort of had a crush on his old best friend. And by ‘sort of’ he meant he was almost definitely in love with him, which was why it had broken him so much when he left.

Of course, Misaki was never honest with himself, partly because he had this idea in his head that being in love with a man was a girly thing, and that being gay meant being effeminate and having a lisp and all of these things that made Misaki really uncomfortable. Manly guys went out and picked up hot girls, right? (Not that Misaki could do that seeing as women mildly terrified him – he had never been good at relating to them before he came out, and the other girls had always picked on him for being tomboyish, and now he just felt awkward around them because he knew he was supposed to think they were hot, but the feelings just wouldn’t come no matter how hard he willed them to.) Besides, guys also didn’t talk about their feelings with their guy friends, so he resolved not to talk to Rikio about how he felt about his behaviour, no matter how much it stung.

But as stubbornly as he pretended not to feel the feelings, no amount of pretending they didn’t exist would stop them gnawing at him, and as summer rolled around, he found himself sitting grumpily by himself in the corner of the bar as pretty girl after pretty girl flirted with Rikio, and Misaki found himself resenting every flutter of their eyelashes and every flirty giggle. He practically exuded irritability as he seethed quietly by himself, the aura of malice warning away anyone who might have dared come near.

When Rikio finally seemed to notice his sour mood, he disentangled himself from the girls keeping him company and came over to sit beside his friend, Misaki was almost taken aback that he even bothered.

“You alright?” Rikio asked softly, and something about his caring tone made Misaki bristle.

“Yeah,” Misaki grumbled unconvincingly.

“What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Is it about Fushimi?”

“No,” Misaki hissed.

“Would you feel better if we got out of here?”

“I wouldn’t wanna pull you away from your friends over there.” He couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

“I’m not really interested, Kusanagi-san just likes me to chat the female patrons up a bit, then they buy more drinks.”

Misaki clicked his tongue.

“There’s no harm in it.”

There was a moment of quiet.

“Are you jealous…?” Rikio hazarded.

Misaki panicked for a moment before realising that Rikio was probably asking if Misaki was jealous that Rikio was getting all this attention and he wasn’t, and not if Misaki was jealous over Rikio being flirted with.

“N-no!”

“Because you’re a handsome guy, you’re just a little more intimidating, it isn’t that girls don’t like you, they’re just a little nervous talking to you.”

“I don’t care if girls don’t wanna talk to me.” The words escaped before Misaki intended them to, but thankfully Rikio didn’t look too far into it.

“Shall we go back to mine and play video games or something? It’s kinda stuffy in here anyway,” Rikio asked again, seemingly ignoring the implications of what Misaki had just said.

“…Fine,” he conceded, giving in to his sudden desire for Rikio to be as far away from the flirtatious patrons as possible. But for the rest of the way back to Rikio’s, Misaki was deathly silent, almost suspicious of his friend’s kindness, and Rikio made no further attempt to pester him for an explanation.

Indeed, they barely spoke at all the rest of the afternoon, besides Rikio offering him a drink and asking if there was a game he preferred to play, and the silence grew more and more unbearable until Misaki finally tossed his controller down onto the couch in frustration.

“Yata-san, are you okay? You’ve been acting weird all day…”

“Well you’ve been acting weird for weeks!” Misaki countered hotly. He hadn’t meant to bring it up, not in that moment, or indeed ever, but the words bubbled up in his throat like bile before he could swallow them back. “What is it that’s bugging you? Why are you avoiding me? Do you think I’m pathetic for being hung up over that asshole, do you think I’m weak for being upset? Do you want me to just get the fuck over it already? Or did you finally figure out you’re weird about me being trans after all, and you just didn’t know how to say it?! Why are you treading on eggshells around me?!”

Rikio simply looked shocked by the outburst and he said softly: “No… It’s nothing like any of that…”

“Then what is it?!”

“I’m just… nervous…” the quiet sadness in Rikio’s voice almost made Misaki feel bad – he’d never seen Rikio subdued like this before, but his vision was still tinted a little too crimson for the guilt to break through.

“About what?” he snapped.

Rikio seemed hesitant for a second, and in that moment, dozens of awful possibilities of what he might say thundered into Misaki’s consciousness all at once.

Rikio inhaled deeply, then released it in a shaky exhale before finally saying: “Since Fushimi left, we’ve been spending so much time together, and at first I didn’t really realise what it was… When we were kids, I sort of had this puppy crush on you, but obviously nothing ever came of it because I was too shy to say anything… We were kids anyway, it’s not like anything could have happened… Anyway, being with you all the time I sort of felt like that again, except it was stronger, a lot stronger. I didn’t even know I was really into guys that much but it’s kind of… I don’t know, I’ve had crushes and girlfriends before but this felt… different. More intense. And I had a lot of figuring stuff out to do – like I said, being into a guy was kind of a shock, and I needed some time to think over it all, but I didn’t want to leave you alone if you were still having a rough time of it so I just didn’t say anything…” His pauses between phrases were lengthy and uncertain, as though he was having difficulty stringing the words together and directing them out of his mouth, and he didn’t make eye contact as he spoke. “S-so yeah… now you know…”

Misaki stared at his friend, dumbfounded. Even if he had the slightest idea what to say, he couldn’t have mustered the ability to form coherent speech if he tried. His anger had evaporated, leaving behind nothing but astonishment. Of all the things Misaki had worried his friend was going to say, he hadn’t even considered this.

At his friend’s silence, Rikio seemed to wilt, taking it as a bad sign. “S-sorry…” he began.

At the expression on Rikio’s face and the kicked puppy look about him, Misaki’s ability to speak rematerialized all at once, and he interrupted: “N-no! Don’t be…” He paused. “Sorry for being a dick.”

“You had a right to be upset with me, I shouldn’t have let it affect my behaviour.”

“I get it…”

“I don’t even know if you’re into guys…”

“N-...” Misaki opened his mouth to deny it, but even the first sound rang false, as much as he didn’t want to believe it. “…I dunno. Aren’t most gay guys like… really into Lady Gaga and girly shit and they talk like this,” Misaki said, putting on an exaggerated impression of the stereotypical gay lisp.

“Not necessarily. There are some men like that, but you don’t have to be like that to be gay, or to be interested in men at all. And you don’t have to be gay to be into guys, you could be bisexual or pansexual or something like that.”

Misaki pursed his lips. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember ever having a crush on a girl. Even when he was figuring out his gender and toyed with the idea that his disconnect with his own identity might be because he was a lesbian, even then he had never really been attracted to girls. But still…

“I’m into guys, apparently, and I’m not effeminate…”

“Are you sure, though?”

“Yata-san, since you first joined Homra I haven’t seen you as anything but a guy, okay? Besides, I’m not the only guy in Homra who’s into men and isn’t all those stereotypical things you mentioned - so is Mikoto-san,” Rikio pointed out.

“Mikoto-san is gay?!” Now that was a revelation.

“I don’t know if he’s gay or something else, but he does like guys. You didn’t know that? Have you not seen the way he looks at Totsuka-san?”

Misaki looked at him blankly.

“I guess you aren’t all that experienced with that stuff, so you might not have noticed...”

“J-just looking at a guy doesn’t make someone gay…” Misaki grumbled.

“I’ve walked in on them making out more than once.”

“…Okay yeah I guess that does.”

“If you are into guys, you don’t have to change anything about yourself, you can still just be you how you are now. There are lots of masculine gay men. And liking men doesn’t make you just a straight girl masquerading as a guy or fetishizing gay men or anything, I know there are people that say that but they’re talking out of their asses.”

Misaki nodded slowly, chewing over what Rikio had said.

“Obviously, there’s no pressure to give an answer on what I’ve said right away, or to say yes… If you’re still figuring yourself out it’s okay not to want a relationship or anything,” Rikio said quietly. There was an air of nervousness about him.

Misaki let out a long sigh, looking at his friend. Knowing that Mikoto had a boyfriend but was still strong and cool and didn’t do girly stuff had completely altered his perspective. Whenever his crushes on Saruhiko and then Rikio had flared past the point of idle fantasy and wandered into the territory of actively daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with them, it had always sort of stoked his dysphoria. He supposed it had something to do with the idea that he hated the idea of being the “girl” in any relationship, or needing to be effeminate in order to be with a man. If that wasn’t the case…

Now, when he let himself imagine kissing his friend or holding his hand, the twinge of discomfort kept quiet.

After a long moment, Misaki finally piped up quietly: “D-do you wanna go for coffee together…?”

Rikio blinked in surprise. “Like a date?”

“Y-yeah…”

A small, genuine smile crossed Rikio’s lips. “I’d like that.”

They met the next day (after Misaki had spent far longer than he intended fretting over what to wear) outside a café not far from Homra, big enough that they’d have some privacy beneath the chatter of the other patrons, but still cosy. Rikio ordered some fruity iced coffee frappé thing that Misaki didn’t understand the appeal of, and Misaki just got an ice tea. They sat together in a booth near the back of the shop as Misaki teased Rikio gently about his weird girly drink.

“It’s good, I promise. Here, you shouldn’t knock it until you try it,” Rikio said, pushing the cup across the table for Misaki to take a sip.

“Fine, fine,” Misaki said, lifting the cup to his mouth, but it was only when he wrapped his lips around the straw that Rikio had just been drinking from that he realised this counted as an indirect kiss. A blush blossomed across his cheeks and he took the quickest sip he could before setting the drink back down.

“You did that on purpose, d-didn’t you?”

Rikio tilted his head. “Did what?”

“The indirect kiss!”

“O-oh… I didn’t even think of that…” Rikio confessed, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

Misaki clicked his tongue bashfully, and he noticed Rikio smiling. “What?”

“Just think it’s… I dunno, I like it when you do that tongue click thing. It’s kind of cute.”

“S-shut up…” Misaki had always hated being called cute when he was younger, but when Rikio said it it was oddly flattering. Mostly mortifying, though.

“Anyway, what do you think of the drink?” Rikio asked, still smiling.

“It’s… not as bad as I thought, I guess,” he confessed.

Rikio smiled. "You shouldn't knock things until you try them."

Misaki rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, the girly drink is okay."

After that, they changed the subject, mostly chatting about idle stuff as they sipped their drinks. Misaki found himself unreasonably anxious the entire time, even though he'd gotten a drink with his friend countless times before and chattered away with him exactly like this, putting the label of "date" on it suddenly made him very self-aware, and very aware of Rikio, every time he tucked his hair behind his ear, his every little smile, the way the glimpse of his collarbone above the neckline of his tank top made Misaki's heartbeat flutter... He tried to put it out of his mind, but he couldn't quite stop himself from staring, and he knew Rikio had noticed by the way he was blushing and shifting under his gaze.

The topic of conversation drifted after a little while onto Misaki's irritability yesterday, as Rikio tried to make sure he had really been okay, and Misaki was forced to admit (in a grumble) that Rikio had been more correct than Misaki had let on in his assessment that Misaki was jealous. Just wrong about what he'd been jealous over.

"It really bothers you that they act like that?" Rikio still didn’t seem to have caught on.

"W-well yeah, I hate how girls fawn over you in the summer and then pretend you don't even exist in the winter as if you're any less attractive." It was the truth, but it wasn't the entirety of the reason.

"I am though..."

"H-hey! You're still hot in the winter, alright?! Anyone who says you aren't just 'cause you put on a few extra pounds doesn't deserve to be able to ogle at you in the summer!" Misaki hadn't intended to be quite so vehement about it.

"You really think so?"

"I know so," he replied sternly.

A small, genuine smile flickered across Rikio's lips that made Misaki's chest feel funny, and suddenly he felt obligated to admit the truth - Rikio had been honest about how he felt for Misaki yesterday, but Misaki hadn't actually said he felt the same in so many words yet, and he wanted his friend to know that he cared about him, that he didn't have to feel self-conscious because Misaki felt that way all the time... for longer than he'd really admitted to himself, in fact.

"M-most of the reason I was jealous was because... I-I didn't want you to be flirting with anyone else...!" The confession had taken physical effort to force past his lips.

"Are you saying...?"

"I-I like you, idiot. And it pissed me off that they were all goo-goo eyes over you."

Their hands were resting on the table, and Rikio moved his own ever so slightly so that his fingertips were loosely tangled with Misaki's. "I’m glad…”

"S-so... what, are we like b-boyfriends now or something?"

"If you want to be." A glimmer of hopefulness that made Misaki's heart feel like it was melting crossed Rikio's face.

Misaki couldn't quite summon the strength to say the word yes - his head was spinning too quickly with the shock of all this, of his first real relationship, of admitting he cared about his best friend and his best friend cared about him the same way, so he just nodded, and Rikio's grasp on his hand tightened as a look of joy crossed his face.

"I want that too."

Despite how anxious and how embarrassed Misaki was to be in this position, where everything was so foreign to him and he had no practice or experience to guide him, he found himself smiling. Yeah, he didn't really know what he was doing, or how relationships worked or what one was supposed to do when they were dating someone of their own gender and how to navigate coming to terms with his sexuality or how his gender identity would fit within all this, but he found himself excited to figure it out along the way if he could have Rikio by his side.

By then, their drinks were empty, and the pair made a move to leave, though as they wandered out of the café, Misaki found Rikio once again twining their fingers, and when he looked up at his friend - boyfriend in surprise, Rikio merely smiled, and moved to loosen the grip in case Misaki was uncomfortable, but Misaki squeezed his hand tighter. Holding his hand felt good; his fingers were warm and soft and seemed to fit perfectly between Misaki's own, and Misaki found he enjoyed the sensation more than he ever expected to. The realisation that they were together, that he could do this whenever he wanted, took caught Misaki off guard. It had all happened in such an understated way that he could barely even process that it was real. Suddenly his head was filled with a whirlpool of fantasies that he hadn't dared think about before - what it would be like to cuddle with him, not just a friendly hug or an embrace when one of them was upset, but proper romantic cuddling, and then there was kissing, which Misaki couldn't even think about without turning red.

"I d-don't wanna go home yet," Misaki blurted out suddenly.

"Me neither. Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere…"

Rikio gave this little affectionate smile, obviously able to tell Misaki was a little overwhelmed, so he took the lead and guided Misaki to a park not far away, where the two of them took a seat on a bench in the shade of a tree.

They were quiet for a moment, and then Rikio spoke up tentatively. "I don't wanna make this a focal point of our relationship or anything, but I want to ask now, just so I don't mess up or hurt you or make you uncomfortable... Is there anything... like, are there any ground rules you wanna set in regards to you being trans? Anything you want me to do or don't want me to do?"

"Not that you aren't already doing. Just... don't treat me different than you would any other guy, and don't talk about me the way you'd talk about a girl; don't call me pretty or anything like that. And don't like... look at my chest when I don't have my binder on. O-obviously if we're spending a lot of time together I won't be able to wear it all the time..."

"That's fine. I can do that. If I do anything that you don't like, don't be afraid to let me know."

"Okay, thanks."

Rikio gave him that comforting smile again, then slid his arm gently around his shoulders. There was an air of shyness about the way he moved that somehow made Misaki feel better - at least he wasn't the only one who was embarrassed about all this. Rikio had more experience than him, though, and he found himself incredibly self-conscious as he worried for far too long over where he should put his hand, before finally settling on wrapping it around Rikio's waist.

"You know... there's something people generally do on dates that we haven't done yet..."

"Like what?"

"Kiss..."

Misaki spluttered in surprise. As much as it was an obvious first step, and he had at least considered it as a possibility, he wasn't emotionally prepared in the slightest, and the mention of the word made his heartbeat stutter.

"We don't have to..." Rikio reassured immediately,

"N-no... I just... n-never kissed anyone before..." Misaki admitted.

"Really?"

"W-why the tone of surprise?!" Misaki found himself more defensive than he'd intended.

"Well, you're a nice guy, and you're handsome, I thought somebody would have by now..."

"I was never interested in dating, I guess, too much other shit going on, and then by the time I had that stuff sorted I didn't really have any friends or anything."

Rikio nodded. "That makes sense."

"I-I'm kind of glad you'll be my first though..."

Rikio met his eyes with a genuine warmth in his smile that made that funny feeling in Misaki's chest resurge with a vengeance, and without him really even noticing, he found that the two of them were leaning in towards one another; it caught him by surprise when he felt the whisper of Rikio's breath on his lips. There was a drawn out pause, and then the space between them seemed to close without either of them really deciding to make it so. Rikio's lips were softer than Misaki expected, warm, gentle as they moved against Misaki's. His whole body tingled at the sensation, like static on a television, and he lost himself in the shock that he was really kissing his best friend. There was none of the stereotypical fireworks or a sense that everything was suddenly okay with the world or a feeling that he was seeing in colour for the first time, but in a way Misaki hadn't really expected that; it sounded like romance novel crap. In a way, this was better. The warm surrealness of the contact, the care in the way Rikio's lips guided Misaki's own, the way Rikio's grip on Misaki's shirt was just a little too tight, as though he was trying to make sure this was really happening... it felt good, safe. As much as Misaki's heartbeat was thundering in his ears from anxiety and how new and dreamlike this all seemed, Rikio made him feel grounded.

When they finally broke apart, Misaki's cheeks were flushed, but he could feel himself grinning.

"I could get used to that," Rikio concluded, and Misaki nodded in eager agreement.

When they eventually, after many more tentative kisses and a very drawn out goodbye (and the insistence from Rikio that Misaki text him when he got back home safe), parted ways and headed back home, Misaki couldn't stop smiling the whole way.

And then the flash of familiar royal blue fabric showed up to ruin a perfect day. He saw it rounding the corner as he headed down a shortcut through an alleyway, and froze in his tracks as his ex-friend came into view.

"What the fuck are you doing in this part of town, monkey?!"

"Clan business. I wouldn't expect you to understand, just don't get in my way."

"Are you calling me stupid?!" Misaki fumed.

"Mi-sa-ki, if I was going to insult you, I would be more overt about it so I could be sure you'd get the hint."

"Get the fuck out of here before I beat your ass to a pulp. And I told you not to use that name!"

"I'd like to see you try, Mi~Sa~Ki~! What's got you so happy today, anyway? Having fun being Mikoto's pet?"

"None of your fucking business."

"Finally gotten yourself a girlfriend?"

"What if I have?!" Misaki spat.

"Please, you're a terrible liar." Saruhiko stood with his arms folded in Misaki's path, drumming his fingers against his elbow with a sly grin.

"I am dating someone, asshole. What, you think nobody would want me? You should take a look in the mirror!" A part of Misaki felt a twinge of guilt using his relationship as ammunition, but the red mist had descended over him once more, and he felt himself coiling up to strike, tensing as his aura sparked around his hands. Bloodlust rose in his throat.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue. "I didn't want to waste my time on you, Mi~Sa~Ki, but you haven't left me much choice," he hissed, reaching for the hilt of his sword and drawing it with a flourish. "Fushimi, ready for emergency battle."

"Fuck your excuses!" Misaki's aura burned in earnest around his palms now, and he leaped forward to swipe at his old friend, his attacks fierce and brutal. If anything, what pissed him off the most was that Saruhiko had dared to show up to ruin this day, after they hadn't even spoken in months. It wasn't fair; just when he was finally really happy, that this happened.

The battle was intense and fiery, their auras clashing with brilliant flashes as they dodged through the narrow alleyway, attempting to avoid one another's attacks. More than once, both of them came very near to inflicting serious wounds, but Misaki was too hyped up on the adrenaline to feel the ache of the bruises.

It was only the sound of a shout echoing from the other end of the passage that drew their attention away from one another long enough for them to break apart.

"Yata-san?!"

Saruhiko clicked his tongue in irritation as Misaki whirled around to see his boyfriend, looking concerned.

"Stay out of this," Saruhiko spat.

"You're the one in Red Clan territory. If this gets escalated, it's you who'll get the short end of the stick. You should get out of here before Awashima-san or someone hears about this."

Saruhiko paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes and examining the proximity between the two Red clansmen, the way Rikio lay his hand protectively on Misaki's shoulder.

"...Oh my god, is it really Kamamoto that you're dating?" Saruhiko burst into peals of mocking laughter.

"Shut the fuck up, Monkey, just because nobody wants you," Misaki bristled, and Rikio tightened his grip on him to stop him leaping forward and attacking him again.

"You should get out of here," Rikio warned again.

Still in fits of hysterical cackling, Saruhiko turned on his heel and headed back the way he came.

"What the fuck is his problem?" Misaki muttered.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. How'd you find me?"

"You hadn't let me know you were home safe and you weren't replying... I panicked, I know I shouldn't, I just worry about you, and now I have a duty to take care of you."

"I don't need protecting."

"I know you don’t, but I also know how you get around Fushimi, if someone doesn't break you apart, you won't stop fighting until one of you has done the other serious damage. I don't want you to get hurt, or to have to live with hurting someone you once cared about that badly."

"Fine, fine..."

Rikio kissed Misaki on the forehead, then the pair of them started walking back to Misaki's place together.

"It's okay to be pissed at him," Rikio murmured.

"I'm fucking beyond pissed. How dare he make fun of you? His beef is with me and he doesn't have the right to drag you into it."

"I think maybe he's just jealous."

"What the hell of?"

"He seemed upset about 'losing' you to Homra, and I guess you dating someone in Homra is the ultimate symbol of that."

"Still doesn't give him the right."

"No, you're right, it doesn't."

"It gives me the fucking creeps the way he says my name as well. He has a lot of fucking nerve, and one day it's going to come back and bite him in the ass."

When they  arrived at Misaki's apartment, Rikio set about making both of them a cup of tea in the hopes it might calm Misaki down a little, and the two of them sat down together to watch a movie. As they relaxed together on the couch, sitting much closer together than they normally would have dared to, Misaki’s fury slowly began to subside, and he allowed himself to sink into Rikio's embrace as the frustration faded. Rikio wrapped his arm around his shoulder just like earlier, and Misaki relaxed into the touch, letting his irritation out in a long, slow sigh. The gentle affection calmed him much faster than usual.

By the time the movie had gotten into the meat of the action, Misaki felt noticeably better, and he secretly attributed a fair amount of it to Rikio's patient affection. Normally, it took him much longer to simmer down after he was pissed off.

Once the last of his irritation had dwindled, Misaki finally got to process that he, once again, was in a much more intimate, much more romantic position with Rikio than he had ever really been in before, and his rage was quickly replaced by the same bashfulness as earlier. As the movie progressed, they ended up snuggling in closer to one another, almost unconsciously, but at the same time Misaki was incredibly aware of every inch that closed between them, every stroke of Rikio's fingers running through his hair absentmindedly. If anything, this felt better than the kissing - the closeness and the contentment, the almost calming effect that Rikio's gentle attention had, were all wonderfully new and electrifying. Misaki hoped he never got used to this.

Rikio, meanwhile, was distracted. He did his best not to show it, and he didn't think Misaki had caught on, and don't get him wrong, he was relishing in the casual intimacy he'd craved and dreamed of for he didn't know how long, but he was... disquieted by the interaction he'd seen between Misaki and Saruhiko earlier. Saruhiko had really gotten under Misaki's skin, and yes Misaki had said some things that were below the belt too, but there was something about the look in Misaki's eyes when Saruhiko had drawled his given name, something like a spark of pain.

Technically it wasn't Misaki's dead name - he had kept his birth name despite its feminine connotations, but it was no secret that it being used without his permission bugged him. Not that most people knew why, but Rikio would have been very surprised if Saruhiko didn't at least have an inkling about the reason. In which case, Rikio didn't know how he could in good conscience continue to use it as ammunition. He knew Saruhiko still cared about Misaki, maybe more than he'd care to admit - if he didn't, he wouldn't go to the trouble of pissing him off so much.

Without really meaning to, Rikio found himself resolving to confront Saruhiko at the nearest opportunity about his use of Misaki's name. He had no idea how it would go and whether it would be effective, but he had to at least try, for his partner's sake.

For now though, he was more than content to enjoy being settled in with the person he cared about, only half-able to concentrate on the movie playing because he was so absorbed in savouring the affection.

The next day, Rikio found himself outside the imposing gates of Sceptre 4's headquarters, sweating slightly as he rehearsed what he'd planned to say in his head. He didn't intend to tell Misaki about this little visit, per se - he knew dishonesty was a bad start to their relationship, but he knew Misaki would just resist and pretend it didn't bother him, but it wasn't like Misaki was going to have this conversation with Saruhiko himself, so something had to be done.

Rikio took a deep breath to steady himself as he rang the bell on the intercom.

"State your business."

"I'm Kamamoto Rikio of the Third and Red Clan, Homra. I've come to see Fushimi Saruhiko."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

There was a pause, and then: "Someone will be with you shortly."

The intercom went dead, and another long moment passed. Rikio tapped his foot, trying not to overthink what he was about to do. It was too late to turn back now. Eventually, he spotted someone crossing the courtyard - a red-haired figure in the traditional Sceptre 4 uniform. As he approached, the gate swung open, and the Blue Clansman offered a polite smile. "Kamamoto, right?"

"That's right."

"Come on through. I'm Domyoji Andy," he said with a bow. "It feels weird to meet a Red clansman and not be fighting with them."

Rikio returned the smile. "I know what you mean."

"I'll take you up to Fushimi-san's office - may I ask what business this is on? Normally our number twos coordinate stuff between clans if there's anything that needs doing..."

"It's... a personal matter, I guess."

"Ah, that's fine. I didn't think you and Fushimi were exactly friends, though? Especially not seeing as you and Yatagarasu are so close."

"No, not really... I don't think he's particularly friends with anyone in Homra."

"Yeah, none of us really know what the whole deal is with that. He doesn't talk much about it."

"Not much of a change from when he was in Homra then." Rikio couldn't help but be a little intimidated as he was led through the towering double doors into the ornate foyer of Tsubaki-Mon, across the marble tiled floor and up the stairs. Everything was gold leaf and elegant colonial architecture, it felt a world away from the homely cosiness of Bar Homra. Thankfully, Andy seemed fairly friendly, so it could have been much worse.

When they arrived at the door of the office Saruhiko was working in, Rikio took another steadying breath as Andy knocked and announced his arrival.

The "come in," that issued from behind the mahogany door couldn't have sounded any less enthusiastic if Andy had announced that someone with a highly contagious illness was popping by for a visit.

"Good luck," Andy whispered with a sympathetic smile as he opened the door for Rikio and took his leave. Rikio grimaced in return.

The office was dim as Rikio entered - the blind was still half-drawn, and Saruhiko's face was lit with an eerie blue glow by the screen of his laptop.

"What." The single blunt syllable dripped with as much disinterested animosity as Rikio thought any one person could imbue into such a short utterance.

"I came to talk to you about Yata."

"You wasted your time."

"Look, you can bullshit me all you like, but I know you care about him. He was your closest friend for a long time, and even if you hate him and hate me, there are some lines you just... shouldn't cross, because it makes you kind of a dick, even if you have a valid reason for disliking him."

"What are you talking about?" Saruhiko hissed.

"You know his first name bothers him, and if you don't know why, then you're an idiot. I know you've known him long enough to know he's trans, and I know I'm probably overstepping and being that dumb cis guy, but I don't think it's right, as much as you hate him, for you to knowingly trigger his dysphoria just to get under his skin. I think you're getting into the territory of being transphobic there, and I know that isn't you, so you should cut it out."

Saruhiko was quiet for a moment, like a stubborn child scolded.

"I'm not asking you not to hate him or not to fight with him or not to hate me for being his boyfriend and having the audacity to come here and confront you, just... there's a line, okay?"

"Whatever." As much as Saruhiko tried to play it off as though he didn't care, Rikio could tell by the flicker of what could have been shame on his lips that he got the message.

"Thank you. I'll leave you to your work."

Saruhiko merely clicked his tongue as Rikio left the room, satisfied that his old clanmate had listened to reason.

When Rikio arrived back at the bar from Sceptre 4, he immediately took a seat beside Misaki, who was chatting with Tatara – Tatara was talking animatedly as he held his new camera, and as Rikio sat down, his face lit up.

“Can I have a picture of you two together? I’m trying to take photos of everyone.”

A flicker of alarm crossed Misaki’s expression until he realised Tatara was talking about the two of them as friends, rather than as a couple, and he nodded his assent. Tatara bounced to his feet and took a couple of photos, handing one of the polaroid printouts to the pair of them before heading over to Shouhei and Saburouta to continue his quest of taking pictures of everyone.

“You alright?” Rikio asked.

“Yeah… For a second there I thought he knew about us or something…”

“Well, do you want people to know?”

Misaki looked thoughtful. “I mean, if the monkey has figured it out then it’s not exactly a secret anymore… not like he has any friends to gossip about it with or anything…”

“We don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to.”

“No, I think I want to… Fuck anyone who has anything bad to say about it. I don’t think anyone at Homra would have an issue with us both being guys… Besides, maybe if those girls who always flirt with you know you’re taken then maybe they’ll lay off.” There was a bitterness in Misaki’s tone as he tried his hardest not to say anything disrespectful, and Rikio smiled, finding his jealousy endearing.

“I want people to know too. I’m proud that you’re mine.”

“Jeez, don’t say embarrassing stuff like that…” Misaki’s face flushed red at the cheesiness of Rikio’s sentiment, but he was smiling ever so slightly.

“Besides, I don’t want to have to not be affectionate with you at the bar. Obviously if you aren’t comfortable being public about that kind of stuff that’s fine, but if I wanted to hold your hand or something..”

“T-that’s fine with me.”

Rikio grinned again, and wordlessly, he lay his hand on top of Misaki’s.

A moment later, Tatara flitted back over to the pair of them. “Can I see how that picture came out?”

Misaki handed him the photo to look at.

“You really like your new camera, huh?” Rikio said.

“It’s nice to be able to have a record of all the memories we make here,” Tatara replied cheerfully, handing the photo back, but before he could turn to leave again, Misaki called out:

“W-wait.”

“Hmm?”

“We, uh, wanted to tell you…” was as far as Misaki got before the embarrassment of talking about this kind of thing stopped up his throat, and he couldn’t force any more words out. He looked at Rikio meekly for assistance.

“Yata-san and I are a couple. We got together yesterday.”

Tatara beamed. “That’s so wonderful! I’m so happy for you! You two were childhood friends too, weren’t you? That’s such a sweet story, I’m glad Homra could bring you two together again after all this time. You make a cute couple.” He seemed so overjoyed by the revelation that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. “You know, I had an inkling you two had something going on between you… Sorry, I’m making a fuss, aren’t I?” He said sheepishly, noticing the way Misaki had turned bright red. “Well, congratulations!”  

“Thank you,” Rikio said.

“Y-yeah, thanks,” Misaki mumbled bashfully as Tatara flashed them another smile before heading off. He turned the photograph Tatara had given them in his fingers, then looked up at Rikio, letting out a bashful sigh. As jittery as he’d felt, it was a relief to start getting out in the open. It made it feel more… real. The last few days had passed in a blur, and Misaki found himself pinching his arm more than once just to make sure he hadn’t imagined the whole thing. Not that he’d really dared to fantasise about this sort of thing before. The two of them actually being an item had never really occurred to him as a possibility; he never expected Rikio to feel the same way, and there was no way Misaki could have confessed to him first.

Rikio shifted his hand to interlock his fingers with Misaki’s, and Misaki found himself smiling against his will. Around the bar, a few people had noticed the gesture of affection and were giving them curious looks, whispering, but to Misaki’s surprise, he didn’t care. As surreal as it all seemed, and as much as he really hadn’t gotten used to the idea that this guy, this amazing guy who had never judged him and who cared about him no matter what, was his, he was glad things had played out this way. When he’d joined Homra, he’d gotten a feeling in his gut that he’d found the place he belonged, and the people he belonged with. He only wished he’d realised sooner how right he’d been.  

[chalcanthite]

krarepairweek | day 2: AU ft. homra executive ladies 

collab with @constastan & @pu-san!!!

[fabzthecat]

K Rare Pair Week - 2018: Day 01           ↳Holidays: (Tanabata)

Wellp this was the twitter poll winner lol. Now it’s time to suffer with ths Au’s orz

Little extra doodles:

In the left corner they’re bassically arguing back home because Eric hate the shoes and want to go as a normal civil with normal shoes next time and Fujishima is just teasing him saying that he is going to carry him the rest of the way home if he is going to act like a kid winning an even more annoyed Eric(?) :p