#Yata would probably be really confused at first

[ridiasfangirlings]

Hidaka giving Fushimi a nickname. He starts calling him Shimi-san or something. It's so casual that it takes some time for Fushimi to notice. Maybe Hidaka is sad (maybe a bit jealous) that they don't have cute nicknames for each other but he let's Yata call him Saru. HiSaru gives each other nicknames scenario please.

Hidaka being kinda cutely jealous of the Fushimi/Yata dynamic post-ROK, like yeah Hidaka is the one dating Fushimi and it’s not like he doesn’t trust Fushimi, of course he does, but he still envies some of the closeness between people who were childhood friends. Like maybe Fushimi does let Hidaka use his first name on occasion and Hidaka was pretty proud of that, until he hears Yata always using ‘Saru’ in an affectionate way. Hidaka can’t help but feel slightly crestfallen that Yata has something to call Fushimi that Hidaka doesn’t, intellectually he knows that well at least he’s the one dating Fushimi and so there’s an intimacy between the two of them that Yata doesn’t have but still…it would be nice to have some cute pet names or something. 

Hidaka decides to just go for it, one day during work he starts occasionally using ‘Shimi-san’ instead of saying Fushimi’s full name. Fushimi doesn’t really notice because it’s not like Hidaka is the most formal anyway, he probably just thinks Hidaka must have his mouth full or he’s busy and not paying attention to what he’s saying (the rest of the alphabet squad absolutely notice though, all exchanging glances, and Gotou who knows what Hidaka’s doing because Hidaka told him gives him like a silent thumbs up). Since Fushimi didn’t stop him Hidaka keeps it up, imagine he gets this little thrill every time he says it and Fushimi responds. Fushimi meanwhile is vaguely confused as to why Hidaka’s suddenly stopped saying his full name, clicking his tongue in response but not telling Hidaka to cut it out either.

Finally one day they’re hanging out together and Hidaka starts using the nickname again, Fushimi gives him a look and grumbles why do you keep saying my name that way. Hidaka looks a little sheepish as he says sorry, he didn’t think Fushimi would mind it. Fushimi slowly admits that he didn’t exactly…mind it, he just wondered why. Hidaka says he knows it’s kinda stupid but you know how couples sometimes have nicknames for each other, I wanted to give you a nickname. Fushimi stares at him blankly and Hidaka laughs again, quietly admitting that maybe he was a little jealous of Yata Misaki for having a nickname for Fushimi when Hidaka doesn’t. Hidaka says he’ll stop though if Fushimi hates it, Fushimi pauses and then leans against Hidaka as he says ‘you can keep saying it.’ Hidaka gives this little internal cheer and decides to step a little further as he adds Fushimi can give him any nickname Fushimi wants too, like if Fushimi wants to call him ‘Kira’ or ‘Hi-san’ or something. Fushimi eyes him and Hidaka’s like ‘…or not,’ Fushimi looks away and gives this small grumbled ‘Kira.’ Hidaka’s face immediately gets red at how cute Fushimi sounds and decides it’s probably best if they keep that one to when they’re alone though, he doesn’t know if his heart could take hearing that while on the job.

[thecommunalfoolboy]

What your favorite Lupin The Third Character says about you

When people make these they always just say nice things and traits of the character and it’s dumb so here’s me being right

Anyway my reputation for misogyny is legendary

Ok this largely depends on if you like edgy Jigen or goofy ah Jigen but

You desperately need to stop getting into arguments online, both in general and on whether Jigen is deep and emo or a silly guy

Gay Gay homosexual gay 🫵

You took one look at him and Lupin and said “Damn these bitches gay!” In a half joking way but the show itself proved you right in 10 seconds

Lol emo

Ok but actually seek psychiatric care

You either write porn about him in your head or you’re extremely asexual

There’s something weird going on with your gender but that’s kinda true if you watch this show in general

You’re too broke to get that next piercing don’t do it

You’re either as devastated about them whitewashing our boy as I am or you should be

Hey remember they whitewashed Goemon too you should be equally as mad about that

You head canon he speaks Spanish

Go to bed

He’s a nice man

Seek help brother

You play with jpegs like dolls

Beneath your eyes is a deep dark hole of information on this show’s lore

You also hate him so much and you want to see him die painfully <3

You want that twink OBLITERATED

You should really raise the price on your art it is so much better than you think it is

Some of you have only seen the first and it shows

“Brother,,,,, help me,,,,,,”

“Long live the king……”

Lol you thought I’m not letting you off that easy you’re deeply traumatized You’ve never felt safe in your life and the most inner hurt part of you desperately needed an adult to help you at a time in your life when you should’ve been worried about learning your times tables not whether you’d survive another day and one of the reasons you’re drawn to characters like this and collect fictional fathers is because you see a glowing smile and an infallible hero who could’ve saved you when you needed it the most

Or you’re Japanese native but like

Autism 👿

Woah dude are you like… autistic???

Stop looking at his tits

A small but significant subsection of you people are just racist and cannot be normal about Japan

If someone asked your thoughts on him you’d just be like :)))) the silly

You have way too many screenshots of him looking weird in the background

You def hate part 5 and twcfm

Whenever tms forgets he exists for a while you still watch it but you look like a wet kitten

You’re def short

You need to stop coping and accept it he looked fully insane in part 3 the hair is so so bad

You’re probably transmasc

I just wanna say I’m so sorry

She’s an ugly bitch there I said it

STROP BEING HORNY

You’re probably a girl

And definitely bi

Y’all probably know the least about the show as a whole

Good for you!! You actually touch grass

Or again you’re in the racist subgroup

The titles for each character confuse you but you only realized this one’s Fujiko because either I just said it or you saw the “stop being horny�� and knew

You probably have insanely hot takes on the show

They did your girl dirty im so sorry

You’d die on the hill of whichever of her hair colors you think is best but at least you’re dead

I’m scared of you

Hey you should watch the first if you haven’t already

Zemigamna 🥺

You cry every time someone says Yata was boring and didn’t need to be in the show

Miyazaki studio gibli ass 🫵

Please you still have time left you can get out before you become obsessed you’re not in too deep yet RUN RUN SAVE YOURSEL

Or this show is all you have left and it’s infinitely too late for you no in between

Again probably a girl

You’re definitely not normal about fujiko either

You hate that one movie where he’s a dick with a burning passion and you would write 20 page essays on it

If you’re obsessed with him you probably have a chronic illness (same bestie) or major physical disability

Anyway if I fully clocked you let me know I think it’s funny to see you guys suffer

[lupgangs-fiat]

The Lupgang and mistletoe (ft. Zeni and Yata)

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! Enjoy some silly mistletoe and kisses from the thieves and the inspectors :]

LUPIN

-he’s the one putting up mistletoe in your current safe house. Almost every single doorframe has the plant hanging from the doorframe with a little red ribbon tied in a bow

-he’s the kind of guy to have mistletoe in his pocket to get sneaky sneaky kisses from you by holding it over your head when you’re talking to him

-probably waits under the mistletoe to get a kiss from you (ends up getting little kisses from the rest of the gang before he gets to you)

-or he might just grab your hand and pull you to the mistletoe to get kisses as you laugh at his antics

-“OH BOY ITS SMOOCHING TIME!!”

-^^ this is his exact reaction whenever you’re under the mistletoe with him

JIGEN

-he never really cared for mistletoe, didn’t exactly see the point in it

-but when he finds himself stuck under the mistletoe with you? Boy oh boy he changed his tune, mistletoe quickly became one of his favourite plants

-after the rest of the gang saw how his attitude changed, one of them taped a bit of mistletoe to the brim of his hat while he was napping (he didn’t see it when he woke)

-which means he got PLENTY of kisses from you, he was confused at first but he wasn’t complaining

-anytime you’d walk up to talk to him, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the plant taped to his hat

-after every conversation, he got a kiss on the cheek or on the lips, and golly gee, he’s over the moon each and every time

GOEMON

-god forbid he gets stuck under the mistletoe with anyone, he already struggles with displays of affection

-he has cut down the mistletoe before when he was under it with the others, much to Lupin’s dismay. He doesn’t like having to replace the mistletoe

-but if he finds himself stuck under the mistletoe with you, he doesn’t cut it down

-be gentle with the samurai, he’s practically afraid of kisses

-give him a kiss on the cheek and he’s going to be blushing and clearing his throat, trying to act like he’s cool and chill

-a kiss on the lips? Oh he’s going to be a MESS, blushing, stuttering, the whole shebang

-(He finds himself lingering under or near the mistletoe when your near by, waiting for you to walk over)

FUJIKO

-very smug. Will tease you if you get caught under the mistletoe with her

-prepare for lipstick marks galore. You’re not getting out from under the mistletoe unscathed.

-she likes to pepper your face in kisses, which means smudged lipstick is EVERYWHERE

-probably would hold your waist and pull you close before dipping you as if you were dancing and kiss you as you laughed

-played dumb when you first found yourself under the mistletoe with her, “oh? What’s this? Why did Lupin tape plants to the doorframe?”

-you explain the tradition to her and she grins before giving you the most breathtaking and passionate kiss before walking away, “what a funny tradition! I like it!”

ZENIGATA

-the man is so focused on his work that he probably doesn’t even realise it’s the holidays

-so if he finds himself under the mistletoe, he’s going to be a little surprised

-he’s super formal. Like, he takes his hat off and gives you a little bow if you’re under the mistletoe with him

-(it’s because he’s nervous, be patient with him)

-but give him a kiss before he practically explodes at the thought of kissing you

-kiss on the cheek is good, he’ll get blushy and embarrassed

-kiss on the lips? Inspector.exe has stopped working, give him some time to process that

YATA

-confused at first, literally puppy-like under the mistletoe

-head tilted to the side and nose scrunched up as he tried to figure out who put the sprig of mistletoe there

-but he gets excited at the thought of kissing you, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he smiles

-super excited to kiss you, tries not to show it, but he’s like a golden retriever and his energy is super obvious

-can and will pepper your face with kisses after the first kiss, he’s smiling and laughing as you laugh too

-would carry mistletoe in his pocket afterwards to get more kisses to be sneaky and silly

-wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you when under the silly plant. It’s not in a weird or sexual way, he just likes holding hands or having his hands on your waist

[chaotic-lupin-blog]

I don't know anything about canon Yata or the role he plays in anything, because I've not watched the newer Lupin parts except for a little of part 5... but I think introducing another regularly recurring character has such hilarious potential. I really think that could/should be so funny. the crew is all used to each other, they've seen each other do some of the worst shit that they've ever done in their lives, and by now there's probably been some expectation drift as far as what most people would consider normal behavior. meanwhile Yata is over here like... still balking at the fact that Goemon is just walking around like he was plucked straight out of the past, and Jigen can get his hands on an anti tank gun if he needs it, which he does sometimes??? and Lupin... god, Lupin is just Lupin, y'know? what isn't weird about that guy...

but especially when it comes to the polycule, I would love to watch the slow process of Yata building his understanding of what the hell is going on with them from the ground up. like he starts with a basic understanding of "Lupin is dating Fujiko" which... er, it isn't entirely like that? they don't consider themselves quite that official, and they definitely aren't exclusive, but also they'd move mountains for each other, and sometimes they will just swap pieces of their wardrobe and gossip like old friends in a way that almost feels completely platonic, but then other times they're all over each other... so even just that is confusing. I'm imagining Fujiko regaling Lupin with the tale of some stooge she had to sleep with for a con she was running, and complaining about how terrible he was in bed, and Lupin is just howling with laughter because Fujiko is a good storyteller, but she might also be steering the conversation in the direction of "we should have a better time than that tonight" and that might be because she's trying to get at something he stole recently... it's complicated. if you asked Zenigata what he thought of the situation, he could pick up on almost everything about their dynamic. if you asked Yata, he'd know next to nothing. they're like, a couple... right?

so the first time he sees Lupin and Jigen kiss, he has to rework his whole worldview. like wtf why is that happening?? Zenigata is like "oh crap, yeah, I should've briefed Yata on the relationship dynamics" because by now it's second nature for Zenigata to accept all this. he forgot that that'd be surprising... especially with just how absolutely gay Jigen is... he's got so many crazy exes, Zenigata's perception is that Jigen must reeeeally like men if he was capable of dating this many deeply unhinged ones. and Zenigata gets to blow Yata's mind yet again by telling him that Goemon is involved too, and then trying to explain the intricacies of Jigen and Fujiko's contentious frienemies-with-the-same-boyfriends dynamic... it's a very long talk.

but then all that's left for Yata to discover, is just how involved Zenigata is in all this, despite his best efforts not to be. he's seen Lupin tease Zenigata in suggestive ways before, but Zenigata always responded by trying to enforce proper boundaries... moreso in front of Yata because Yata is a coworker, and it'd just cause all kinds of problems if he didn't. but they could only keep this under wraps for so long. it'd probably just be a lot of little things that Yata notices over time... questions that keep piling up in his head until he's ready to burst with curiosity. certain genuine reactions to Lupin's flirting start recontextualizing the amount of time Zenigata spent looking at Lupin's photo the other day, and there was also that phone call that Zenigata had to take in private, but his body language and tone of voice as he talked into the phone was particular, and instinctively made Yata feel like Lupin must be on the other end. is Zenigata in love with Lupin? how does that work... or does it? maybe he's trying his best not to act on his feelings, or maybe their relationship is secret... how does he feel about the rest of Lupin's band of thieves?

the real confirmation of his suspicions is when Lupin drags Zenigata off in the midst of some unrelated chaos, and Yata follows when he wasn't supposed to. maybe he overhears Lupin complaining that it's harder to find good moments to fool around with Zenigata when Yata is constantly with him, and Zenigata grumbles a bit about how they're not supposed to be doing this in the first place, and Yata is simply a diligent, hard worker... but he doesn't really resist getting kissed by Lupin either. Yata tries to just leave, but they somehow notice him. ultimately everything turns out fine, but there's a bit of initial tension because technically Yata should be reporting this as some kind of misconduct. idk how it'd all eventually get smoothed out, but the more Yata learns, the more he realizes that the rules are made up and the points don't matter, so to speak.

[itsuki-minamy]

WONDERFUL SCHOOL DAYS: MY PRECIOUS RED

CHAPTER 3: SUMMER

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: skyflyinginaction

* Gakuen K (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

"Maybe he knew of your ability."

Totsuka said that one day after the athletic festival. It was a few days after she changed her clothes.

Kusanagi stopped polishing the glass and Yata's eyes widened and he looked at her.

Bar "HOMRA".

An elegant interior. Looking at one of them, at the vintage jukebox, he takes a breath and doubt Totsuka.

"Eh?!"

"You were talking to King, right? Maybe, I think there is no question."

"That's right?!"

"Yes. I haven't been able to find out everything. That's why..."

Totsuka looked at Kusanagi with a serious look.

"Well, I want to experiment. Kusanagi-san."

"Do it outside."

Totsuka laughed saying "Okay.".

"Kusanagi-san? Won't you see?"

"I have to tend the store. I'm just waiting for the results report."

"Well then everyone, a big place where we don't bother anyone, oh let's go to the riverbank where we played baseball last time."

Everyone takes control and immediately stands up. Also, she was a bit surprised.

Oh, that? Will they all come? Is it my personal cause?

When she wondered and looked at everyone, Yata looked back, "Hey."

"What are you doing? Come on."

"Yata-kun, will you come too? Is it about my ability?"

"Eh?"

Yata grimaced, bowed his head and said, "What are you talking about?"

"Is it because of your ability?"

"Eh? But…"

"Does that mean it's a red club problem?"

"…!"

Involuntarily, her eyes rounded. At the same time, Kusanagi laughed in the background.

Looking back, Kusanagi laughed and shook her hand, saying "Go quickly."

"Don't keep your teammates waiting."

Companions… Those words warmed her heart.

She raised her forehead and followed Yata.

It is enough to walk slowly from the bar "HOMRA". A riverbank where weeds could grow as much as they wanted, except for a small grassy baseball field.

In terms of time, the boys were quiet, perhaps after getting home, with only a few people walking their dogs.

"Now…"

Totsuka looked around his against the setting sun.

He then he said, "So, let's review first.", and he raised his index finger.

"One. When she touched King's flames, she didn't have the ability to manipulate them. She was able to resist Homura's flames, right?"

They all looked at her. She shook her head vertically.

"Yes. It's not hot to touch the flames that everyone creates. But I can't put out the flames. I've been told this several times and I've tried."

Really, many times. She was afraid that other abilities would be activated, so it was a bit dangerous.

When she said that, Totsuka smiled, "That's enough.".

"There are strong and weak abilities, but once you've completed the rite of passage, activating the abilities isn't really that difficult. It seems that some people have a hard time controlling flames. You can probably think that you don't have the ability itself."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. But actually, Konohana-san created a great column of fire in the courtyard. The fire was Yata's flame. That's the second. And the third, it happened even at the athletic festival."

"Eh…?"

Sports festival, but…?

"That's…"

"Finally, that flame that burned the red club's diadem. That wasn't just because of Yata. Yata, you felt that way too, didn't you?"

Everyone's eyes focused on Yata.

Yata made a slightly complicated expression and shook his head.

"That happened right after she called Yata. She didn't realize that her ability had been activated because Yata pounced on the enemy at the right time, right?"

"Yes, not at all."

When she answered him, Totsuka smiled.

"So is. She acted on the flame twice, even though she didn't have the ability to manipulate it. So, I thought. What is the conclusion I came to?"

Totsuka cut his words off there and raised his index finger again.

And he pushed her hand fully towards her.

"Konohana-san."

"Yes."

A small flame ignited on his index finger.

A small flame that was very appropriate to say "light" was like the flame of a candle.

"Please be aware of this flame."

"Eh? Take it into account?"

"Yes. It 'enlarges', 'burns' and is 'strong'. Anyway, let this flame grow. Please think about it."

What does the flame grow?

As they told him, she put her hands together and looked at the flame.

"Increase in size. Make it big?"

She coughed, but nothing happened.

It means, before that, if everyone's eyes were worried, if she looked at him too much, she alone would be worried about it... no, she wouldn't worry about it.

When she thought about it, Suoh, who was sitting alone on the bench, stood up and relaxed in front of her.

The moment she raised her face, his big hand blocked her view.

"Eh? Ah..."

"Don't watch it. Focus on it."

A low voice commanded in her ear.

She took a breath and her eyes widened.

"Do you remember how Totsuka makes the flame? That's what you saw earlier. Remember it. Draw it in your heart."

She closed her eyes as directed, and she remembered that little flame.

"If you can do that, think about it. Imagine it. Light the flame. Can you do it?"

A small flame came to her mind. It was as modest as a candle flame, and quiet.

She tries to make it big strongly. Violently, beautifully. Redder, brighter, and burning.

Like Suoh, was worthy enough to tremble.

Like Yata, flashed so hard she yearned for him.

"Mmm!"

At that moment, there was a scream.

"You can do it."

She hears Suoh's satisfied voice.

At the same time, his hands moved away from her eyes.

"Ah!"

She turned her gaze to Totsuka and took a deep breath.

The flame, which was as small as that of a candle, was now a glow that burned the heavens.

Big, strong, intense and beautiful. A burning flame that glowed red.

Homura's flame like a blazing fire.

"I don't have the power to create a flame like that. Everyone knows it, right?"

Looking delightedly at the pillar of fire, Totsuka smiled.

"This is because Konohana-san made my flame bigger. In other words…"

Totsuka looked around looking at the flames.

"Your ability is the second, the 'amplification'."

"What is the second for Homura?"

Kusanagi put iced tea in front of her and looked at Totsuka.

Since then…

Probably because it was a great column of fire. The people who witnessed the flames rushed forward one after another, and they hurriedly left on the spot. They divided into small groups so that they did not stand out and returned to HOMRA by different routes.

She saw that everyone in the red club at that time, withdrew and moved gently. She was shocked.

She still had a bad idea about that area. If Yata had not retired with her, she was sure that she would have been left alone.

He gently pointed to her right wrist.

He was unscrupulous, but a lot of fun at times like that.

She wondered like Yata, that he's not good with girls, he spoke to her normally and got her out of there.

"Yes. I think the first one is 'superhuman strength'. That's why I broke the grip strength meter."

Totsuka smiled as he made ice cream.

Looking at Totsuka, Kusanagi frowned, "Hmm."

"No. Maybe it's just one? Maybe you're just 'amplifying' your own strength."

Kusanagi's words involuntarily stopped her hand from reaching for the stainless steel cup.

Oh, it's true. There is such a possibility, right?

When she saw Totsuka, he looked up and put his finger on his chin.

"Well, I think it's a different thing. Well, I absolutely can't say."

"Because it's different?"

"That is correct. There are two reasons."

Totsuka held up two fingers.

"One is the difference in the activation conditions."

"Activation conditions?"

"Yes. When the 'amplification' was activated, there was a strong emotion in Konohana-san. She was afraid of Munakata and she cared about Yata. Did you activate it all of a sudden even if you didn't think of anything when you broke the grip strength meter?"

"Uh, surely."

"The other is that there is too much range in 'superhuman strength'."

"Too much range?"

Um, what did that mean?

"I think it's great to break the grip strength meter. You can also break the recording board. I can't do it. But obviously, destroying half the school building or sandwiching the cobblestones in the courtyard is a different level, is it? Don't you think?"

"Of course."

"I thought the former was the activation of the 'superhuman strength' ability. The latter may be the result of 'amplifying' the 'superhuman strength' ability."

"…!"

She widened her eyes at the unexpected words.

"Amplified", "superhuman strength"?"

"That's…"

"It is possible that touching a knife or pinching a stone pavement is another ability, but your body was glowing. But when only "superhuman strength" is activated, "superhuman strength" and "amplification" can be activated together, so I think that there is such a difference in how skills appear."

"I see."

Kusanagi thought that too.

"I think I realized that at the athletic festival. With your power, even I, who only have weak power, can create a column of fire that causes confusion."

She wondered if it was okay for her to be there.

"Konohana-san."

"Yeah... I feel like it's a bit crazy. Your abilities are beyond the person's ability. It's definitely very dangerous because you can't control it right now."

Things that exceed the person's capacity and cause the ability to flee.

Those words surprised her.

It was the same even if there was no talented person around. She revealed another ability of oneself by multiplying it without permission. So what happened at the previous school was an accident.

She realized the danger again and her body trembled.

"Konohana-san."

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

The moment she hugged tightly, Totsuka called out to her carefully.

He lifted her face as if were turned away and tried to reassure her. Totsuka smiled softly, "Okay. Don't tremble."

"Because I am here…"

"……"

"Hey, Yata?"

Totsuka looked back over his shoulder.

Yata, who was sitting in a chair near the couch, noticed and looked at Totsuka, and then looked at her.

"I was telling Konohana-san that we're not afraid of her being here. Yata, you think so too, right?"

"Of course."

Without hesitation, Yata had no problem answering.

"It should be OK."

And his hot eyes went straight through her

"Absolutely, I will protect you."

++++++++++

It was sudden.

"Ha! Kamamoto-kun, summer version!"

The moment she entered the classroom, she was caught by Kukuri, who had been waiting for her, and she was dragged in front of a handsome boy she had never seen.

Brown leather. A soft, lustrous and bright blonde. His eyes, which were melancholy and with slightly sunken corners, were a beautiful sepia color. His nose was smooth, sweet, and well-shaped.

Slim, standout style. The strong confidence, generously exposed collarbone, slim but powerful shoulders and upper arms were very nice.

Who was he?

Before her who was stunned and stiff, Kukuri and Shiro got together and showed his beauty and that line.

She opened her mouth and looked at the handsome boy.

"Kamamoto-kun?! Huh? Hey, really?"

Wait! Because yesterday he was big and now he was normal?

"No matter how much, overnight..."

"Well, I've lost my appetite for the heat since noon yesterday. So when I woke up in the morning…"

(No, no, no, you don't convince me! You can't do it, Kamamoto-kun! It's strange that you lose half your weight in just one night!), she thought.

"Well, what happened to the hairstyle? Kamamoto-kun, you had very short hair."

"Grows fast in summer."

Well again, while it was weird the fact that grew more than 4 inches overnight for that reason, it was absolutely amusing.

"This is the first time for Kuro and Konohana-san. That is amazing."

"Eh? Oh, that's right. Yatogami-kun..."

"But this is already a kind of summer tradition. When Kamamoto loses weight, it means that summer has come."

At Shiro and Kukuri's slow words, she instinctively looked at Yatogami.

No, how about ditching such a great change with "summer tradition"?

Well, ghosts and ghost stories are a summer tradition, and that sentiment may not be wrong.

It means, wasn't everyone worried about it? She was very anxious.

"Hm, Kamamoto-kun. Is your body okay? Aren't you sick?"

"I'm constitutional. It's okay. I don't feel bad; I'm just losing my appetite."

(If this happens even if he can't eat for a day, Kamamoto-kun will disappear if the days when he has no appetite continue.), she thought.

"If so, that's fine, but I'm a little worried."

"Haha, it's fine."

"You won't do anything, right?"

Just in case, she suddenly turned her gaze to Yata, who was sitting by the window.

Yata, who was looking at her with a frustrated appearance, for some reason clicked his tongue at her and turned away from her when he realized that she was looking at him.

"I wonder what I did."

She waved her hand and turned to Kukuri, who left the classroom and involuntarily partied alone.

Yata had been in a bad mood since this morning so he didn't like this, and after all, he could talk about it all day.

Even now, as soon as class ended, he left the classroom with Kamamoto... Should she go home alone? Should she wait as usual?

However, she had no guarantee that Yata would return (on the contrary, he may have already gone), but she stood up with her bag.

With a soft sigh, she left the classroom.

It was a bit strange because they came home together every day.

(What's really going on? Have I done something?), she thought.

If so, it would be difficult to go to HOMRA. She wondered if she should go straight back to the women's dorm today. Or should she go to the library for the final exam?

At that moment when she was wondering and walking alone...

"Konohana-san."

A low, sweet, and very familiar voice echoed down the hall.

She opened her eyes and looked back quickly.

"Can you give me some of your time?"

"Munakata-senpai..."

A pale and refreshing shirt. Light blue bracelet. A shiny and dull saber.

The director of the blue club, Reisi Munakata himself was there, followed by Fushimi and another person behind him.

"I was about to visit the classroom, but I'm glad I didn't get it wrong."

"......"

With a soft smile, but feeling the endless fear, she took a step back.

Then, Fushimi, who saw her, clicked his tongue at her and sighed.

"Hey. I don't know what the red club are telling you..."

"Fushimi-kun."

Munakata stopped Fushimi's words on the way.

And when she looked at him again, he smiled.

"I just want to talk."

She couldn't believe it and shook her head.

"I'm in a hurry, I must go.", she said lying and backed away further.

"Don't say that. I really want to talk. I just want to know what you know about your abilities. That's it. I want to know to handle it quickly when something happens. This is not to put you in danger, much less average students. I promise that I won't force you to do anything."

"......"

"Oh, yeah. What I did was out of order. I should have apologized for it first."

When she quietly returned, Munakata coughed as if he had just realized it and then leaned in slightly.

Naturally, without any ill intention.

She didn't expect him to do that, so she opened her mouth and looked at Munakata in a daze.

"Eh?"

"On the first day of move-in, I apologize for the high pressure attitude in the yard. I'm sorry I told you that you should surrender, as you protected the students in general."

"......"

"I apologize for the fact that Fushimi ran to you at a later date. He acted after thinking about school and you, but as a result, I have given you unnecessary fear. We are so sorry."

Munakatai leaned in even more.

His action was sincere. Suddenly, the fear she felt was relieved.

"Munakata-senpai..."

"If you're busy, let's start over another day. So please let me know."

Perhaps she had an excessive sense of weakness in her initial attitude?

Later when Fushimi spoke to her, she fell, so she thought she was scared.

At that moment, the words were certainly bad, but Fushimi didn't say anything bad. He was only saying the right thing.

Even now. Munakata also said only the right thing.

"Yeah... I feel like it's a bit crazy. Your abilities are beyond the person's ability. It's definitely very dangerous because you can't control it right now."

The words Totsuka said when she elucidated her abilities in that river.

(That's right. My ability is very dangerous.), she thought.

She believed that she definitely should know the school to protect the students.

It was definitely not a mistake.

That's how it is. Not that she wasn't afraid, but she wouldn't run away. She knows, preventable accidents can be harmful.

Taking a deep breath, she took a deep breath and slowly parted her lips.

Suddenly…

"Saya!"

"Ah!"

The window in the adjoining corridor opened with a loud noise.

The moment she rolled her eyes, Yata jumped up and grabbed her hand.

At the same time, he threw her towards him with considerable force.

"Huh? What? Yata-kun?"

But where had he come from? Why was he there?

She was stunned when she started running, as he dragged her away.

"No, Yata-kun!"

"Don't talk! Run!"

"Well, wait! They haven't done anything..."

"Shut up! Run quietly!"

(Huh? Well, wait! They haven't really done anything. I mean, did they just apologize?), she thought.

Lying as she was, she ran down the hall, down the stairs and into the entrance.

Yata finally stopped in front of the shoebox and looked back.

"Come after me... it seems like..."

"Yata-kun..."

"That's it! You're not handling it properly! They don't know what to do!"

"Actually no..."

They were just apologizing to her.

Oh, but she was so happy that he had come for her.

It was warm and happy that someone cared for her and protected her.

She shouldn't be happy. She wondered if she didn't have that qualification... she shouldn't hurt him and make him protect her. Well, she hurt people in her previous school. But the danger of the same thing happening was quite possible, as Munakata said. She was sorry she had escaped from Munakata.

"No, Yata-kun, have you come back...?"

"What? Aren't you going home?"

"Eh? But shortly after class ended..."

"Anna-sensei called me, right? She told me to come after school."

"Ah…"

By the way, she hears him were told that.

"Kamamoto-kun? About that Yata-kun, did you just go to the staff room?"

"Yes."

"So what about Kamamoto-kun?"

As if he had just noticed her words, Yata looked behind her.

"No, leave it."

"Eh? Where? I mean, Yata-kun, where did you come from?"

"As I left the staff room and back to the classroom, I saw you with the blue club."

"ERh?"

It was that?

She looks at Yata confused.

Then, Yata heard that she meets Munakata in the hallway as she left the classroom, and he ran from the staff room to where they were.

When she thought about it, Yata was the one confused this time.

"You did that?"

"That?"

What's that? Did he jump out the window, and he came straight into the hall by jumping out the window?

Wait! The staff lounge and the hall she was in are on the second floor, right?

However, her question seemed unfamiliar to Yata, and he shook his head asking, "What is that?"

"Why…"

"It's parkour. I'm remembering it right now."

"What is parkour?"

"Well, it's a kind of sport. The purpose is' to reach the destination efficiently without interrupting any movement anywhere", Kusanagi-san said."

Was that explanation exactly what he heard from Kusanagi?

"Is it difficult to explain...? Well, it's like flying, running, climbing, balancing and using it effectively to make paths that are not paths."

"Do you want to make a path that is not a path?"

What was that? It sounded interesting.

"So you jump out the window?"

"Yes. Even if you jump off the second floor, you can make a revolution on landing to kill the impact of the landing, and if you think about the angle and kick the wall, you can get to the second floor window as soon as possible. That is my form."

(So ​​literally, you didn't doubt it, you just ran for me? In a place that was a path? To protect me?), she thought.

As a result, Munakata was not trying to hurt her, so it became an excessive defense.

Her face suddenly turned red.

Still, she was happy. She was sorry for Munakata.

But that didn't matter. She was simply impressed. Yata hurried to make his way, for her.

It would be a lie if she said she didn't like that.

"Ah…!"

(Oh, I'm dying of happiness! Yata-kun! I'm so happy I don't know what to do!), she thought.

Perhaps Yata remembered his embarrassment when he turned bright red, blushing and suddenly looking away from her.

And when he rubbed his face roughly, he coughed in embarrassment.

"I'm going home."

++++++++++

A clear blue sky that was high enough to get through.

The clouds were white enough to clump together, the sun was still shining, and the ocean! It was the sea! The great blue sea! Reflecting light on the surface of the water.

Looking at the beautiful mother of life, she was scared because she felt like a tiny person and almost forgot her abilities.

Oh, she couldn't play. Clarifying and controlling her abilities was an urgent task.

But the sea! It was the sea!

Before the end of the term, Kusanagi said: "The guy who got the red dot is excluded from HOMRA. If everyone does the best they can and does not take extra lessons, I will take them to the sea."

The red club was strong when there was a reward! There were no supplementary lessons for everyone. How, even Suoh?

He was talking about "I'll take you to the sea." So she thought it was a day trip, but Kusanagi seemed to be coming to a guest house he knew, so they decided to camp out at sea early in the summer vacation.

When Kukuri heard the story, she was worried, "Will you be okay? You're the only girl.". When she first heard that she would stay, she was a bit surprised.

However, Kusanagi knew about that and said that she had taken her room separately, and everyone was paying careful attention from the planning stage.

As a result, she was excited and happy today.

"That bastard Kamamoto..."

Chitose clicked his tongue when he saw Kamamoto being hit by a reverse wave and flying off.

However, Kamamoto was not the only one who stood out.

"……"

When he frowned, he looked at the white waves that were crashing.

Yata, who usually controls skateboards freely, seemed to be good at surfing, catching waves, and riding horses.

Seeing that figure, several women made a squeaky voice for a while and wondered, "Is it good, right?" "Yes. Good. Let's talk to him."

That... was not very interesting.

That in her way, she didn't care, but it was truly amazing.

"Saya-chan?"

Kusanagi, who had approached her before she was aware, looked at her face in a mischievous way.

"Eh? Ah! Yes?"

"Youth."

"Eh…?"

"Hm, do you want to split a watermelon?"

Kusanagi offered her a blindfold and said, "Saya-chan, let's do it."

"Eh, I?"

"Girls do it while wobbling, it's cute."

When she looked around, Chitose and Dewa were excited.

She thought for a moment, tightened the blindfold and got up.

"So, are you prepared to be defeated by my power?"

Maybe she didn't think so much, they all had a terrifying look at his words.

"It would be nice if the watermelon also kept its shape... Sorry if I squash it. It can be like a small piece of meat and a blood clot. I still can't control it."

They have probably figured it out. They all fluttered like a chill.

"Hey, smash..."

"Now, a piece of meat..."

"Ah... Saya-chan. Maybe you should be guided by the voice?"

"I think that would be better too. Even with a bamboo stick, if my ability was activated, the watermelon could be turned into fine powder. I don't think it's that difficult to turn a watermelon into fine powder."

When she said that, Kusanagi put a blindfold on her.

"And I think the seaside guesthouse is the best setting for a suspense drama. I'm sure accidents can easily happen."

"Well Saya-chan. Are you in a bad mood?"

"Eh? Isn't that the case?"

When she smiled, Kusanagi laughed palely.

"I am scared..."

++++++++++

"It is night."

Totsuka sat upright with a flashlight in one hand.

A great big room where everyone but her sleeps. After that the futon was well placed and they enjoyed throwing pillows.

Sitting on the messy futon, everyone looks at Totsuka with a mysterious look.

"So, let's start a hundred stories."

The lights were off. An impressive sound rang out.

He lit a candle and the story began.

"This is a story from the Taisho era."

(I don't know. After this, I'll have to sleep alone.), she thought.

Actually, she wasn't very good with ghosts and ghost stories.

While she tried not to imagine too much, she listened to Totsuka's story, regretting it.

"Well that's the end."

Totsuka blew out the candles.

The room went dark and he shrugged.

But soon, he turned on the flashlight and Totsuka laughed.

"How was it? Yata."

"Hehehehe, it's fine! No, not at all!"

Yata's voice had a volume setting that's a bit strange. The intonation was strange too. She snapped her eyes open and looked back to her side.

Maybe Yata was also not good with these kinds of stories?

"Oh. I'll do my best this year. Yata."

"I can afford!"

"Because of that, there were a lot of 'uh', right?"

Totsuka laughed and lit a candle.

And when he said, "So next time...", he clicks the flashlight off.

At that moment, her hand was clenched tightly and she was in awe.

(Kya, kyaaaah!), she screams internally.

When she hurriedly looked to her side with a shock that her heart was about to leap out of her mouth, Yata, who turned pale, was holding her hand.

But perhaps unconsciously, the line of sight did not move from Totsuka. He kept looking at him like he was paralyzed.

"......"

His hands trembled slightly, but they were hot and powerful.

He was always nice, but maybe he couldn't help it, he was squeezing her hand so hard it hurt.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes.

She was no longer afraid. That was another emotion.

She would enjoy quietly. Just for her, this time.

And how many times have she been through a scary story? Totsuka suddenly coughed, "Eh? Can you hear me?"

"You can't hold a hand like that!"

"Oh, no, I'm not trying to scare you. Is someone sleeping, snoring?" He said tilting his head.

When everyone spoke, he could hear it for sure.

They all looked at them in amazement.

"Eh? This is…"

"Hm. Maybe…"

Kusanagi stood up silently and clicked on the lights.

The room lit up. For a moment, she looked his narrowed eyes.

"Oh, after all..."

"King... Don't make history a lullaby."

Kusanagi and Totsuka sighed.

Suoh, he was sleeping peacefully with an innocent face like a child.

"Eh? Wasn't that scary? Yata didn't give up either."

"I don't think that's the case. Yata did his best because Saya-chan was there."

Kusanagi looked at her as he said it.

Then he cut the words unnaturally, staring at her hand for a second, two seconds, three seconds.

It seems like he wasn't the only one wondering about it, and they all turned their heads from her and looked at her one after another. Of course, Yata too.

"Uh, aaaaaaaaah!"

At that moment, Yata, who finally noticed that he was squeezing her hand, turned his face bright red and screamed, raising both hands.

"Gyaaaaaaaaah!"

"Oh, he screams more today."

Kusanagi laughed.

When she looked at Kusanagi with a bit of disappointment, Kusanagi looked at her and laughed jokingly.

"Konohana-san, second round, shall we?"

"Second round?"

Kamamoto bowed his head.

"Is night yet to come? There is a cave behind this guesthouse."

Kusanagi smiled and looked at Yata, who turned pale.

"Try your luck, let's do it."

++++++++++

The sound of the waves coming and going. A chorus that was always played.

Unlike the day, the sea lit by the silver moon was surprisingly quiet and mysterious.

The boundary between the sky, the sea and the darkness of night that covered the world was warm, and if you take it easy, you will be absorbed.

"This cave is actually quite a famous psychic place. If there is an accident around here, the corpse will surely flow here due to the tidal flow."

She couldn't understand why he was saying that, but Totsuka seemed to have fun saying it.

"They're not just humans. Big cats, birds, whatever. That's why there's always a soul hanging around here."

"That's why I left 'something' in the back of the cave during the day, so I'd like you to get it in pairs."

"A couple? Won't it take time?"

"Okay. It's not deep. If you rush when it's bright, it's less than five minutes round trip."

Kusanagi laughed looking at them.

However, Yata had a haunted face. Well, so does she.

He may have noticed. Kusanagi smiled and slapped her on the shoulder.

"That?!"

"Yata-chan, I'll forgive you if you cry. If you don't go, why don't you cry?"

"Who will cry?! Okay! This is over here!"

Yata yelled at Kusanagi's bad words.

Oh, he was distraught, but now he seemed to be fired up.

"Homura, group together quickly."

"Saya-chan."

At the same time that Kusanagi said that, Chitose came running with a smile towards her.

"Eh?"

"Oh! Hey! Chitose-san!"

"They're loud! Is it fun with guys? I like that."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Chitose!"

They all parted and spread their hands evenly.

"Eh?!"

"Oh, that..."

"Well that's the way it is."

Kusanagi shrugged and laughed at her surprised eyes.

"Yes, Saya-chan, you must choose, who should be the knight that ventures with you?"

"Eh? But…"

"Guys! Even if you are not chosen, don't hold a grudge!"

Everyone happily responded to Kusanagi's words. Was that really good?

Well, if that was the case...

Along with Kusanagi, she saw Yata, who was fed up with what he didn't like.

"Well then... Yata-kun..."

"Eh?"

Yata looked at her as if he was surprised by her words.

At the same time, the boos that came out from everyone were out of control.

"Eh?! Why am I not a candidate?!"

"Well, you weren't there because she didn't pick the guys who ran."

Kusanagi laughed and patted her on the head.

"I said don't be resentful! Well, that's too many to be a pair!"

At those words, everyone scattered as they said "Tsk."

She looked around and at Kusanagi.

"Hm, was that wrong?"

"What happen?"

"Well, should I have chosen from among the candidates?"

"No. As I said before, there was no such condition."

Kusanagi shook his head and patted her head again.

"This is your night; you can choose your companion. If you think it's Yata-chan, it's fine."

Involuntarily, she looked back at Yata.

The moment their eyes met, Yata turned bright red and turned around as if he was in a hurry.

(Wow…), she thought.

At that moment, she felt so embarrassed that she turned around to hide her cheeks from him.

"Then I'll go first!"

It seemed that the combination had been decided, and Chitose and Dewa waved their hands and entered the cave.

After waiting a while talking about it, two people soon came out.

When they handed what they were holding to Kusanagi, Kusanagi said, "Hmm. Okay."

They were both so light that when he asked, "How was it?", they replied, "It wasn't a big deal. Actually, it's just a normal dark cave."

She was afraid of it.

"I found it useless."

"What? Seriously, it's just a cave with nothing."

(That's why I'm scared of that dark empty cave!), she thought.

She was not afraid of a well-kept, artificially lit cave. But in that case it would no longer be a cave.

However, it seemed that she (and one other person) were the only ones who thought so, and everyone was able to clear the task without problems. Some people even said it was boring.

And finally it was her turn and Yata's.

"Yes, please go."

Yata didn't cry, so she couldn't help it, and he reluctantly walked into the cave while he was kicked out by everyone who smiled.

The flashlight also slightly illuminated her feet. A step forward is a state of darkness.

Only the sound of calm waves and the sound of dripping somewhere resounded.

(Ah! I don't like it! Let's go!), she thought.

"Ah, Yata-kun…"

If she called him in vain, Yata would shake his back.

"......"

"What's wrong?! Don't call me when I have no use!"

"Uh..."

Yes, it was useless.

She just called him, but she couldn't say: "Because I'm afraid, hold my hand.". It was embarrassing!

She wanted to be able to say that kind of thing without calling on the phone.

"Come and see, Yata-kun.". Hmm, she really couldn't do that.

However, her prince was extremely insensitive in that area, and in the end he never took her by the hands, and while she trembled, she walked slowly as she looked around her.

As Kusanagi said, they soon reached the innermost part of the cave.

When she circled the lantern light, she saw a bright red object on a large stone.

When she looked and got closer, she found a bright red marble.

"It is this?"

"That's how it is."

For the moment, she looked around again, confirmed that there was nothing else like that, and he answered yes, and Yata squeezed one of the marbles and it swelled again.

"Then I'm going home!"

"Ah! Wait! No, Yata-kun!"

It was then that she reached out as she was caught by a slippery stone.

Suddenly, the lantern light went out.

"Eh…?"

Suddenly, the field of vision turned black. Even Yata's appearance, who should have been next to her, seemed vague.

"Why?"

She could hear Yata clicking the switch on the flashlight.

That was…

"Ah…"

"Gah!"

Obviously, a voice other than theirs was in the immediate vicinity.

Horror rushed through her back in amazement.

"Ah…"

There was a scream.

No. To be precise, she tried to avoid it. But faster than that, his hot hands tightened on her.

"Let's go out!"

At the same time, Yata's voice echoed. Just as she was, he pulled her tight.

"Ah!"

She wondered how many times Yata pulled her like that and ran.

At times like this, Yata never let go of her, will happen what have to happen.

She already knew. That was why she was no longer afraid.

Yet her heart was beating.

She was excited by the warmth of the hand, the grip and pulling force.

She couldn't see him at the moment, but the reliability of his back running forward had helped her many times.

Although he wasn't good with ghosts, no matter how rushed or scared he was, he couldn't escape on his own. He did not abandon her.

Yata's "shielding" is a reliable practice. He would never betray her.

"Oh, we go out."

"If you run, it's a very short distance. In the blink of an eye, you'll be in the moonlight."

Totsuka was waiting and greeted them with a smile.

"Did you run? Oh, you brought the marbles correctly. Great."

Totsuka received them while Yata was out of breath.

"Well, more than that, a flashlight..."

"Eh?"

"Maybe the battery is dead, it's gone..."

"Huh? It's weird. I just changed the batteries yesterday... Yes. Okay. Then take this flashlight. Replace the batteries again and give it to the last group."

To that end, Yata shook his head.

Totsuka opened his eyes asking, "What?", but he seemed to understand everything when he saw Yata holding a marble in his right hand and holding her hand in his left hand. He reacted and hit Yata's shoulder.

"Wow, I see. Okay. Hey. If the next group can get through, they'll pick up the lantern you dropped."

"Understood."

Kamamoto, who was about to enter, waved as he smiled.

"But they brought the marbles, so the Yata-Saya couple made it too."

"This year's Yata-chan will do his best. Besides, now you can walk hand in hand with a girl in a cave. You have grown up."

As he smiled, Kusanagi patted Yata's head.

"And you are still connected."

Yata reddened his face and released her hand.

"Ah!"

"That's..."

"One step up the stairs from an adult~"

"Oh, that's not why!"

"Well, you guys has been together almost since the first semester, so I'll get used to anything. Do your best in this condition, Yata-chan. That's right. It's not enough to get excited about the backstory next summer."

"Yes, I will be very careful!"

Yata said that to Kusanagi, who smiled.

As he listened to him, she suddenly lowered her eyes to her right hand.

The wind took away the heat she felt.

She wishes the cave was a little longer.

She hated scary things, but if that cave was a little longer.

Then she was enjoying a happy moment that was a bit longer and could forget about everything.

She was able to hold hands with Yata.

[dagmartoons]

A Detailed Discussion on Lupin's R.

So I put way more thought into my most recent animatic than I have for really any other video I’ve done so far and so I decided to make a post discussing all the visual and storytelling choices I made for it. Spoilers if you haven’t seen the video yet and also there will be mentions of suicide and death and things like that under the cut so you have been warned.

First a note about the song itself; I boarded this video specifically with Rachie’s lyrics in mind because they’re the ones I’m most familiar with with this song. As I was working on it I found a really pretty French cover which I debated also using (because, y’know, Lupin’s French) but decided not to because, again, the video was based around Rachie’s version.

Since I’ve wanted to make an animatic set to My R for ages now I thought a lot about how I wanted it to look, specifically in terms of composition and symbolism. There are a lot of rhyming shots, specifically during the choruses, the scenes where characters are being introduced and the scenes where they all walk away from Lupin. For these shots I used the same layout and basic template for all of them (unfortunately this resulted in me accidentally saving over the CSP file for Jigen’s chorus oh well). The three “girls” in the video (these being Jigen, Goemon and Zenigata) are introduced with their backs facing the audience, and at the end when Lupin is about to jump his back faces the audience too.

In fact, the final scene is meant to mirror the other verses as well, not just with the aforementioned Lupin’s back shot. Lupin holding the rail is a reference to Goemon holding the rail in his verse. Lupin holds a cigarette during the “watching my braids all come undone” shot, similar to Jigen as he’s “the girl with braided hair.” Lupin’s jacket is meant to mirror Zenigata’s “yellow cardigan.”

Originally the instrumental bit before Zenigata’s scene was just going to be pure white, but then I thought that would be too boring so I stuck in a shot of the rail instead.

Alright so let’s talk about the characters and why they’re all up on the roof! Each character represents a different struggle that Lupin has, and I’ll be going through each of them one by one.

First off, Jigen! Originally the person in his flashback was just going to be some random ex of his but then I decided to up the feels by making it Lupin. Jigen represents Lupin’s struggle with being abandoned; Jigen felt Lupin abandoned him for Fujiko, just as Lupin felt abandoned by his family. Lupin was “robbed” of his grandfather, mother and father/innocence (that shot of the rail is meant to represent the train bombing from the manga; it can be interpreted as either him losing his dad or him losing his innocence by forcing him to hide his real face to cover the scars. Or both, if you’re so inclined). The shots of the characters walking away all sort of mirror each other; when Jigen walks away, Lupin is upset at how much was stolen from him in his childhood.

Goemon’s bit gave me PROBLEMS because I didn’t really know what to do with him. I knew I wanted his struggle to be how he feels he’s disappointed his masters/ancestors, but I wasn’t sure what to do with the “everyone steals” line. But then I thought... GOEMON’S GRANDMA!! OF COURSE! His grandma could be the thing that was “stolen” from him! Goemon represents Lupin’s fear of failing to uphold his family’s legacy and disappointing his ancestors. Lupin’s flashback here details his father’s abuse of him as well as his struggle to live up to his and the rest of his family’s expectations of him. When Goemon looks back, it’s sort of meant to imply that he understands Lupin’s situation; here, Lupin laments how much he’s been ignored and treated as a disappointment by his family.

The three characters in the breakdown are Rebecca, Yata and Ami because I didn’t know who else to put. I had the thought to include Clarisse instead of Ami but decided against it for some reason. Also originally these shots were gonna be black with the characters’ outlines but then I thought that wouldn’t be in line with the rest of the video’s visuals so I decided against it.

And now we come to Zenigata. Oh, Zenigata...

(Side note: I completely forgot today is apparently his Miyazaki birthday.)

Zenigata’s bit was the first one I fully completed because it was the one I had thought the most about. His struggle is that of failing to protect those he cares about; those being Oscar and Toshiko. He couldn’t save Oscar and he failed Toshiko by not being a good enough dad. These two instances left “scars” on him that he can never truly be rid of.

And that’s what messes Lupin up so much; both he and Zenigata have had people in their lives that they couldn’t save, they couldn’t protect (Lupin more so than Zeni probably), and so he can’t do anything to stop Zenigata from wanting those “scars” to go away because he wants them to as well. He tries to stop him anyway even though he knows he can’t, and that’s what causes him to break down.

(Another side note: originally the “hey don’t do it please” part here was gonna show Lupin actually saying it, but then I thought that looked too close to a different animatic I saw and also the frames looked off to me so I replaced it with just text.)

Going back to the mirror shots I discussed earlier, the camera moving from Zeni to Lupin is meant to represent Zeni helping Lupin, not the other way round like it was with Jigen and Goemon. Zenigata smiling at Lupin during the “I guess today is just not my day” part is sorta meant to represent him trying to comfort Lupin by letting him know that he’s gonna press on, because he knows Lupin deals with the same insecurity he does. Lupin looks confused as Zenigata walks away because he thought that he wouldn’t be able to stop him but was.

Like I said earlier, the final shots are meant to parallel prior shots of the other characters. Originally Lupin was going to still have his jacket on, but I decided against that. There wasn’t really much behind Fujiko being the one to stop him; she was the only gang member who hadn’t already been in the video at that point and in my eyes she and Lupin have one of the more complex relationships in the series, so it made sense. (IIRC Fujiko was originally gonna be in Zenigata’s place before I thought Zenigata would be sadder.)

That’s basically everything I can think of! I put a lot of effort into making this and all day I’ve been getting really lovely comments from people about it so thank you all for that! Thank you for watching! Peace!

[alicialeila]

I Saw Mikoto Kissing Tatara (Underneath the Mistletoe Last Night)

Merry Christmas & happy holidays, mikototsu folks! My nanowrimo fic isn’t ready to be posted yet, so I hope you’ll settle for some silly Christmas fluff. 

I look forward to another year of celebrating mikototsu together!

mikototsu, rated G, 1.4k

read on ao3

Anna rolled over in bed. She was sleepy and warm, on the cusp of falling asleep, but she couldn’t quite. Maybe, she thought, it was because she’d had one too many sugar cookies tonight. Tatara had slid her the plate of freshly-baked cookies all night, and they had been so warm and sweet, shimmering with red sugar sprinkles, that Anna hadn’t been able to resist. “It’s Christmas Eve,” Tatara had whispered, like that meant she could do what she wanted. They’d had a Christmas party tonight, bar HOMRA decorated with pretty, sparkly garland and a tree covered with red ornaments.

Anna had never celebrated Christmas before she came to live with Mikoto, and she still doesn’t quite understand why they do now. When she’d asked Tatara, he’d grinned and said, “We should always take the opportunity to have a party!”

“But Christmas is tomorrow,” Anna had said.

Tatara had stroked Anna’s hair gently. “Then we can have two parties.”

So they’d eaten the sweets Tatara had made, and exchanged small gifts. Tatara has put on some music, and the HOMRA boys had tried to sing along, even though they didn’t know the words, increasingly off-key as the night went on. Mikoto had sat on the sidelines, like always, quietly watching, but Anna could sense that his red was warm and happy, and it had soothed her, too.

Perhaps that was why now, Anna didn’t want to fall asleep. She could still feel that happy red glowing downstairs, even though the party had dwindled. She always liked to see Mikoto like this, so she rolled out of bed and snuck her way to the top of the steps that led down to bar HOMRA.

From the top step, she could peer down into the bar and get a clear view of Mikoto and Tatara sitting at the bar. Rubbing at her sleepy eyes, she was about to get up from her perch, satisfied with her quick glimpse, until Tatara leaned over to kiss Mikoto on the lips. Anna tilted her head curiously. She knew what kissing was, of course; Honami used to kiss her on the forehead before bed, and princes kissed princesses in her storybooks all the time. But, innocently, she wondered, which was this?

Climbing back into bed, she let Mikoto’s red envelope her like a soft, warm hug, and told herself she’d just ask Tatara about it tomorrow.

*        *        *        *         *           *           *            *           *            *        *

The next morning found Totsuka at HOMRA, mixing pancake batter, humming one of the Christmas tunes that he couldn’t get out of his head. He was making enough to feed all the HOMRA boys, because there was no doubt they’d be wandering over this morning in search of food. They probably should have all just slept over so they could have enjoyed the morning together, but Totsuka wouldn’t complain, since the privacy meant he could have alone time with Mikoto.

Totsuka himself had slept on the couch last night. He had fallen asleep curled into Mikoto, and had woken up alone, to a blanket keeping him warm instead of Mikoto’s furnace-like heat.

The first to arrive was actually Kusanagi. “Morning,” he said, shrugging off his coat, cheeks pink from the cold winter morning. “You sleep here last night?”

“Yep,” Totsuka said casually. “Just fell asleep.”

“Right.”

It wasn’t that they were hiding the new state of their relationship. It was more that everything had progressed so naturally that they’d never really talked about anything, including when or how to tell everyone.

Kusanagi poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that Totsuka had already prepared, and clapped Totsuka on the shoulder in silent thanks. “Anna not up yet?” he asked, taking a sip from his mug.

“No, not yet. I expected her up earlier than this, but I guess she did stay up pretty late last night.” Totsuka had red and green food coloring ready for Anna’s batch, because he thought she would enjoy a festive design.

The boys trickled in after that; Yata and Fushimi came in not long after Kusanagi, bickering about something or other, with Kamamoto trailing behind them. Eric was the last to arrive, quietly sliding into the booth beside Kousuke.

Finally, the stairs creaked as Anna led a sleepy Mikoto down by hand. Totsuka’s heart fluttered as their eyes met, so he quickly looked down to focus on his batter. He wondered how it was possible for someone to give you butterflies when you’ve known them for years.

“Morning, Anna,” Totsuka said cheerfully as she took her usual seat at the bar. “Are you hungry?” She nodded weakly, and Totsuka noticed that she was staring at him intently. He was long used to Anna’s peculiar moods and behaviors, and he knew that he would probably just have to wait her out. He slid her plate of festive pancakes in front of her and asked, “Everything okay?” She hesitated, and then nodded again. Totsuka considered her expression; she didn’t look upset, exactly, just thoughtful. “Okay,” he said, digging into his own plate. “You know you can tell me, whatever it is.”

Anna set down her fork, her face almost comically serious. “Tatara,” she said quietly, “why were you and Mikoto kissing last night?”

Totsuka almost choked on the bite of pancake he had just swallowed. He expected there to be a chorus of shocked gasps and confusion, but nobody had even looked up from their own plate, and Totsuka, relieved, thought that maybe nobody had heard her question. He met Mikoto’s sleepy eyes and then cleared his throat. “It’s Christmas,” he said with a forced chuckle. “There was mistletoe above us!” He pointed vaguely to the garland hanging above the bar. “It’s bad luck not to kiss when you’re standing under mistletoe.”

He patted himself on his back for the steady delivery, and internally fist-pumped when Anna merely nodded with a quiet, “Oh.” He thanked the gods for the gullibility of children, even one as intelligent and mature as Anna.

But then Yata made a noise of protest, slamming his fork onto the table. “Eh?” he said, mouth still full pancake. He swallowed, then said, “Then how come I’ve seen you kiss in HOMRA before we decorated? Right over there?” he pointed at Totsuka’s favorite couch, where he took most of his naps. Yata was grinning, and Totsuka felt a stab of betrayal.

Fushimi, sitting beside Yata, snickered. “And outside, too, when you go on ‘smoke breaks’.” Fushimi made air quotes.

Totsuka sputtered, but then Chitose piped in. “Or that time we were walking home and you said you had to stop at the convenience store, but I saw you kissing in an alleyway.” He chuckles. “Classic.”

Totsuka hadn’t noticed that Kusanagi had stepped out of the room, but when he came back in it was to Totsuka’s gaping mouth and a room full of laughter. “What are we talking about?” he asked warily.

“All the times we’ve caught Totsuka-san and Mikoto-san kissing,” Yata replied, and Kusanagi didn’t even bat an eye.

“Ah.” He grinned. “One time, we went to the movies, and I went to the bathroom, and when I came back they were making out like teenagers. I didn’t know what to do, so I went to get popcorn and hoped they’d be done when I got back.”

Everyone chuckled at Kusanagi’s story, and when Totsuka looked over at Mikoto, he was sipping his coffee, seemingly unbothered by the fact that they’d long been found out. After he’d willed his heart rate to slow, he said, “If you guys already knew, then why didn’t you say anything?”

“We were waiting for you to say something,” Kusanagi said.

“Right.” Totsuka bit his lip. He was strangely touched; that was almost respectful, he thought. “Well, I guess this is us, uh, saying something. ”

Kusanagi smiled, and then he turned to Yata. “So who won, then?”

Totsuka blinked. “Eh?” Kamamoto pulled a folded paper from his wallet and opened it up to scan its contents. “Fushimi,” he said. The boys all groaned, and Fushimi smiled smugly.

Totsuka watch as everyone got up to hand Fushimi their cash. “You guys…” Totsuka said in disbelief, then he pouted. “None of you deserve pancakes,” he said petulantly. “You’re all on the naughty list.” Internally, he was making plans for revenge against them all.

Everyone chuckled, and Totsuka heard Mikoto laugh beside him. The sound warmed him, and even Anna was smiling contentedly, no longer looking so serious. This, Totsuka thought, was why he liked celebrating every holiday he could, because it was an excuse for them to all be together like this.

(Meanwhile, Anna was thinking that Tatara hadn’t really answered her question, and so maybe she should ask Mikoto, instead.)

[grimm-mementos]

Some Yata/Goemon stuff I have been thinking about

So after seeing that one scene from part V, I am now filled with a lot of feelings about this ship and I need to get it off my chest. (put under keep reading because this got long)

I don’t think Yata would even be fully aware of his feelings at first in that sense. Like he probably thinks that its something else in the sense of “Goemon is a criminal and i OBVIOUSLY CANT HAVE THOSE KIND OF FEELINGS FOR HIM SO THIS MUST BE SOMETHING ELSE”. Not trying to make Yata sound bad here, but this boy is like in his mid/late 20′s, there is no way in hell he’s figured himself out emotionally, so of course he would be confused about this kind of thing. So what does he do instead??? Looks up Goemon’s file from Interpol to try and figure out as much as he can about him so he will know how to capture him. He’s just dedicated to his work is all. (Though the reality is he just wants to get an idea of what kind of person Goemon is because he doesn’t want to date a psycho reasons).

Goemon just kind of accepts it and that he thinks Yata is cute. He kinds figures it out after the fact and he’s probably meditating under a waterfall somewhere in the world and for some reason Yata crosses his mind and he has that realization of “Welp he’s cute and there might be some other feelings there”. Lets be honest, He has traveled the world with Lupin and has probably met all kinds of people that made him reflect on himself personally so I think he has a good grasp on his feelings/ sexuality.

Now how does everyone else react to this??? Fairly well. Zenigata kind of figures it out really quick even though Yata has yet to talk to him about this but he’s not gonna make a big deal about it, He knows how Yata is feeling, and he will support Yata the best he can. He wont push Yata to talk about things until he is ready. With the Lupin gang, its kind of a spectrum of reactions. Lupin will obviously tease the hell out Goemon when he figures it out because this is Lupin we are talking about. Jigen is just like “okay” and doesnt make a fuss about it like Lupin and Fujiko. Fujiko...Fujiko is the worst. She teases him, make lewd comments about what Goemon and Yata would do behind closed doors, makes suggestions on how to get together with him, and gifts him some items to use with Yata. At one point she gave him like several boxes of Condoms in a variety of sizes because she “wanted him to be prepared”.  Goemon isn’t able to look Fujiko in the face for like a week after that happened.

How do Yata and Goemon interact around each other after realizing their feelings??? Well there is a sense of Keeping things Professional so they kind of act like they normally would and just kind of dont acknowledge their feelings around each other and just act they normally would, which would be Yata trying to help Zenigata get the Lupin gang, and Goemon helping Lupin get away from Zenigata. Basically it boils down to “Dont let the other person know about their feelings because you have no idea how they would react to that information/ ACT NATURAL!!!”

Dont worry they do get to a point where they do get together eventually, it just takes a while and possibly several life-threatening situations to get there

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 1 Chapter 1-Yata no Mori (Part 2)

Not going to lie but this chapter nearly drove me crazy with the kyudo terminology. Luckily, there’s a lot of information in English about kyudo online (and surprisingly a lot in French as well) so I just want to give a huge hand to the people who share their kyudo knowledge online in easy to understand ways, you’re the real MVP.

I highly recommend opening the chapter in two tabs and scroll down to the translation notes at the bottom if you can since a lot of words won’t make sense if you don’t know what they mean. I’m still searching for a convenient, non-intrusive way to write the notes so if anyone has any ideas,  let me know.

Also I think I’m going to go on a break after this (yeah even though I promised to post this a lot sooner) cuz I’m still a little burned out from DIVE!!. I just hope the anime doesn’t air before I actually finish this book lol

Translation Notes

1. The Raiki Shagi and Shahoukun are two important ancient texts in modern kyudo. They are written in the front of the Kyudo Kyohon and provide a lot of the philosophy behind Kyudo.

2. Yoshimi Junsei is a famous archer of the Tokugawa Period (1603-1868) who wrote the Shahoukun.

3. Yazuka measurement (not to be confused with yakuza) is the distance from the center of the body to the tip of the middle finger of the left hand when standing upright. This measurement is used to determine proper bow size.

4. Kataboushi yugake is a type of archery glove that has a hard thumb cap (I think???) There are three-fingered, four-fingered and five-fingered types.

5. Kake gae no nai ( 掛け替えのない) is a Japanese saying that means “irreplaceable”.

6. “Makuuchi” is a term for shooting an arrow into the curtain.

7. Gyousha is the movements comprising the act of aiming the bow and shooting the arrow.

8. Oyaki is Japanese stuffed dumplings.

9. Yips is a disease that causes the loss of fine motor skills in athletes. It manifests as twitches and jitters and occurs a lot in sports like golf and darts.

Full list of translations here

Previous | Next

What was that?

Who was that?

He thought back to that breathtakingly beautiful shooting, and Fuu’s deep black eyes.

He tried searching online, but couldn’t find any search terms to enter. The kyudojo of Yata no Mori didn’t have a website, only having its name entered in a list of all the kyudojo in the prefecture. And because of the Personal Information Protection Act, the identity of the person who owned it could not be disclosed either. In that case, he should have asked the man for his name. But, what would he do if he did asked for it?

Minato was heading for the school’s entrance to go home after school. It was bright outside the open windows, and he could hear the sounds of people going to club activities. When he narrowed his gaze on the still distant sunset, the wind died down.

Then, his shoulder was grabbed from behind again. I guess I don’t need to check to see who it is anymore.

“…Ryouhei.”

“ ‘Sup Minato. What are you so dopey about?”

“Do you know how big you’ve gotten? You’re heavy.”

“Sorry, it’s just a habit.”

While apologizing, his hand remained on his shoulder. The other hand was waving at the people passing by.

Since elementary school, Ryouhei liked to join shoulders with other people. Minato disliked being clingy with people, but when he saw Ryouhei’s smile, he couldn’t turn him down, so he left it as it was. Even during the several times when Minato and Seiya fought, Ryouhei would squeeze between them and join shoulders, saying with teary eyes, “I get sad when you guys fight,” and then it became impossible to get angry. Minato had a bad feeling as he felt the similar emotions from those times.

“Isn’t it too early to go home? Let’s go to the kyudo club’s information session together.” Ryouhei said.

Minato replied without a moment’s delay, “No. I’m not going.”

“Alright, then at least listen to some of the information. Tomi-sensei has back pain so he can’t do the practical skills, so it looks like Seiya will be demonstrating them.”

“Ryouhei, did Seiya bribe you to do this?”

“It’s not like that. But, he told me to tell you this: ‘If you don’t come today, then I’ll never let you see Bear again.’ Did they finally start to keep a bear over there? Sweet.”

No, that’s really not something to be impressed about, Minato quipped in his mind.

“For me, Seiya’s the sage, and you’re the hero. You have a heroic saga too, don’t you? Hey, do you remember what happened on our kindergarten trip?”

“Trip? Oh, the one where the hornet landed on my arm, and I kept walking without shaking it off? But, that’s not a big deal. Even though the hornet kept approaching me, the teacher warned me repeatedly not to kill it with my hands.”

“That’s not it! It’s the one where you barehandedly caught the crayfish that I couldn’t touch. When I saw that, I was like, ‘This guy is cool!’”

Minato was completely drained, and placed his hand on his knee.

“Ryouhei, we aren’t in kindergarten or elementary school anymore.”

“How’s that different from being in high school?”

Ryouhei’s innocent gaze pierced Minato.

Minato was an only child, but he was got the illusion that the naughty younger brother, who had always followed behind him, had suddenly matured.

“Actually, when I was in the second-year of middle school, I accidentally saw you drawing your bow. When I saw that arrow firmly hitting the target, I was so excited. I thought that I want to draw like that too. I want to do kyudo together with you and the others—. You said that you were busy with chores at home, so I gave up the other day, but I guess if Seiya and I cooperate we’ll manage somehow? It took a lot of trouble to meet you like this. Just try to listen to the information first. And then can you make your conclusion?”

“Ryouhei, I’m…”

“I want to do kyudo with you…is that no good?”

Ryouhei’s ears seemed like they were drooping down dejectedly. Minato was never good at handling his juniors.

“…All right. But I’m only listening.”

Ryouhei’s face lit up. He couldn’t understand why Seiya involved him into this, but he couldn’t refuse that face. Minato hung his head in shame at his weak-minded self.

At that time, Seiya headed to the kyudojo with Tomi-sensei before everyone else.

Kazemai High School’s kyudojo was located inconspicuously in a corner of the schoolyard. For kinteki (close-range) tournaments, the range was twenty-eight meters, with room for six people to draw at the same time. Though it wasn’t being used, it was well maintained, thanks to Tomi-sensei’s hard efforts bringing in senior citizen personnel during spring break. Seiya only resumed breathing when his hand traced the nameplate that read “Kazemai High School Kyudo Club.”

They bowed once as they entered the kyudojo, and then went ahead and bowed twice in front of the kamiza. Being barefoot is strictly forbidden in the kyudojo, for the same reason entering someone else’s house barefoot is impolite.

To prepare the kyudojo, first apply water to the azuchi (target bank), and then place the targets with their centers twenty-seven centimeters above the azuchi. The targets used were kasumi-mato (mist targets), which were targets with a diameter of thirty-six centimeters where black concentric circles were drawn.

Next was preparing the kyudo equipment. The arrows were placed in the yatate-bako (arrow stand), and the bowstrings were stringed onto the bows. The height of the ha—the distance between the bow’s grip and the stringーwas about fifteen centimeters. There were dedicated tools for measuring that height, but Seiya measured it using his right thumb and said, “This is fine.” Then he went on to rub “ma-gusune” on the string. He did this by applying kusune, which was a boiled mixture of pine resin and oil, onto a small waraji woven from hemp strings, and then using it to neaten the loosened string by fusing it with friction. The saying “to be ready and waiting for (te-gusune o hiku, 手ぐすね引く)” definitely came from kyudo, but the use of kusune was different.

After he got that far, he changed clothes. Shooting a bow right after stringing it was a cause of bow damage, so it was necessary to make it adapt ahead of time.

Seeing Seiya turning towards the makiwara (straw practice targets), Tomi-sensei spoke.

“Oh, Takehaya-kun, where are your glasses?”

“I use glasses because I have dry eye, but I only use contacts when I’m drawing a bow. Before, the bowstring would get caught on my glasses and send them flying.”

“The lenses cracking would be pretty shocking. But, when people who normally wear glasses take them off, do you think it’s okay to be so defenseless?”

“I am seeing perfectly now. I am completely prepared for the attack, far from being defenseless.”

“I say, that’s frightening.”

“Tomi-sensei, thank you for inviting me to the kyudo club. I’ll definitely make your mission a success..”

“I’m counting on you. Fu-ho-ho!” Tomi-sensei laughed.

To Seiya, Tomi-sensei was a happy miscalculation. Before the entrance exams, he had already investigated that the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club was on the verge of disbandment. Minato probably knew that as well. So, he planned to revive the kyudo club with his own hands.

A favourable wind was blowing.

In order to stand at that place once more—.

Seiya encouraged himself, as an unseen power pressed against his back.

On this day, an information session titled “Introduction to Kyudo” was scheduled, and people began to trickle in. Probably twenty or thirty people of mixed genders. For the boys, their goals weren’t just being introduced to club activities.

“Don’t you think kyudo girls are hot?”

“Yep.”

However, with the entrance of one attention-attracting boy, the boys’ ambitions were abruptly destroyed.

“Sorry I’m late. Thank you for preparing everything.”

When greeted with cries of “Nanao-kuuun!” from the girls, he made peace　signs with his hands and waved at them. They then exchanged incomprehensible greetings of “Merha~” “Merha~.”

It was a boy with bright, somewhat unruly hair, and who seemed like his whole body was shining beams of light. He was swinging a quiver in his hand, which was more a “pearls before frogs” accessory than “pearls before swine.”

Seiya set his bow down, and waved Nanao over.

“You’re Kisaragi Nanao-kun, right? My name’s Takehaya Seiya, and I’ll be with you today, nice to meet you. The frog on that quiver is pretty funny.”

“Oh, this is nice, right? Right now my room’s full of frogs. Oh, you can just call me Nanao.”

“All right, please call me Seiya as well. By the way, what was that ‘Merha’ you said just a while ago?”

“It’s short for ‘Merhaba.’ It’s Turkish for hi.”

While wondering why Turkish, Seiya let it pass. This was probably the reason why he was popular with girls. It wasn’t a type you saw much among boys who did kyudo.

When he picked up his bow and quiver, another person who didn’t seem to belong in a kyudojo appeared.

It was a boy with healthy, suntanned skin. Because of his sharp eyes, he was more a wild person rather than a refreshing sports boy, and a somewhat hard-to-approach aura floated around him. Even the girls who surrounded Nanao quickly backed away to surround him from a distance.

“Nanao, don’t block the entrance. Let me in right now.”

“Ehh, Kacchan, you’re so impatient~”

“Stop calling me Kacchan.”

“But aren’t you Kacchan, Kacchan? I can’t call you anything else at this point.”

“This sucks, having to be in the same high school as you, and then in the same club.”

“Aren’t you joining the soccer club? Didn't the guys in the soccer club ask you ‘What position did you play in middle school?’ on the first day?”

“I’m not joining the soccer club, I’m set on the bow. I’m different from the guys who started kyudo just to wear a hakama, like you.”

“I look pretty cool in a hakama. Of course, it’s not for show. Today, I have to show the girls my charming figure. That’s why, Kacchan, you should work hard too.”

“The only one I don’t want to be told that by is you.”

Noticing Seiya being taken aback, Nanao formally introduced him.

“This here’s Onogi Kaito. My cousin.”

“Onogi-kun, I’m Takehaya. Nice to meet you.”

“…I’ve seen you at a match before. What’s your middle school?”

“Really? It’s a private school, so it’s not around here, and I don’t think you’d recognize the name even if I told you. But putting that aside, I want to start soon, so the two of you should go change your clothes first. I’ll keep your bow strung.”

Kaito looked like he wanted to say something, but he entrusted his equipment to Seiya and headed for the waiting room (hikae shitsu).

The first round of Introduction to Kyudo has begun.

Seeing Minato and Ryouhei among the gathered people, Seiya murmured, “Ryouhei, good job.” under his breath.

Tomi-sensei cleared his throat.

“Everyone, relax your feet. This is a good gathering. It seems that I’m popular. I’m blushing.”

A laughter that said “That corny introduction is enough, so please quickly get on with it” rang out.

“Well then, first, some requests. Kyudo is a martial art. You need to respond with spirit. And then, this is essential, but if you nock an arrow to the bow, you absolutely cannot point it at other people, even as a joke. Even if you did not intend to release it, it can lead to a serious accident. Also, absolutely do not take the arrow off the bow to 'dry fire' it, as there’s the danger of snapping the bowstring. You must always obey these rules.”

And then, they chanted in unison the “Raiki Shagi” and the “Shahoukun” (1) that were printed on the right hand side of the kyudojo (TN: this is called wakishoumen or position where one is facing the kamiza and the targets are to the left). The former began with “The shooting, with the round of moving forward or backward can never be without courtesy and propriety. After having acquired the right inner intention and correctness in the outward appearance, the bow and arrow can be handled resolutely,” an inscription mainly preaching the ideals of kyudo. The latter began with “The way is not with the bow, but with the bone, which is of the greatest importance in shooting,” written by Yoshimi Junsei (2), and was mainly the dying instructions of his technique.

Tomi-sensei asked one of the students in the front row, “Do you understand the meaning?”

“No, not at all.”

“I was also completely clueless about what was written in the beginning. But as I kept practicing, I thought that 'Oh, this is what that was talking about.' You can look forward to that as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, this is also a breath control technique. As reading out loud is a way to continuously exhale, this action will enhance your parasympathetic nerves and relieve tension. A good presence of mind is essential for drawing a bow. Isn’t it hitting two birds with one stone to learn the essence of kyudo and do breath control?”

“I seeee.”

The voices were overlapping each other.

It was Ryouhei’s and Nanao’s. Nanao had at some point sat down next to Ryouhei, and they were giggling as they looked at each other. Minato and Kaito, who were on both sides of the two, had sour looks on their faces.

Tomi-sensei held up the kyudo equipment.

“There are three main equipment necessary for kyudo. The bow and arrow, and the ‘yugake’ (archer’s glove). It is a glove made of deer skin used for protecting the hands. Most students use the three-fingered yugake. Now, let’s see the actual shooting technique. Tournaments are done with three or five people. Today we’ll have three people.”

Seiya, Kaito and Nanao got up. At that moment, a visitor came and informed them that sorry for the interruption, but Nanao was being summoned over the school PA system.

“Really? Did I do something? Sorry, Tomi-sensei, but I have to leave for a while. If you like, please replace me with someone else.”

Tomi-sensei looked around when the girls said things like, “Eh—, if Nanao-kun isn’t going to draw a bow then should we just go home?”

“Well, there was another person with experience here. What’s more, he’s a good-looking guy. Narumiya-kun, you can choose to change into a hakama or not, just try drawing the bow for a little bit.”

After a pause, Minato exclaimed, “What!?”

“I can’t. I haven’t held a bow for more than half a year already.”

“I just want you to show everyone how it’s done. The equipment is borrowed, so everyone naturally understands that you won’t be able to strike well. Everyone wants to see him shoot, right?”

Because they all applauded at once, Minato was cornered into a hard-to-refuse situation.

While waiting for Minato to get ready, the others were touching the kyudo equipment. Tomi-sensei and the others moved to the wall.

Kaito took an arrow and approached Minato.

“Since it’s troublesome to have the bowstring caught on your buttons, change into a gym uniform and put on a chest protector (muneate). What was the draw strength of the bow you used? Hold out your left arm so I can do the yazuka measurement.” (3)

“Hey, hey wait a minute. I never said that I was going to draw it. Right, I heard that Ryouhei also drew a bow in class when he was in middle school.”

“Even if he did it in class, it was still dangerous. Plus, Tomi-sensei said that it’s natural that you won’t be able to hit anything, and nobody cares about your skill.”

“It’s not that, it’s not that at all…”

“This is getting annoying. Just do the one or two things you’re asked to do. Aren’t you ashamed to be not much of an archer?”

Minato became speechless at the word “archer.”

Kaito took that as acknowledgement, and used Minato’s throat as a starting point to verify the length of the arrow. If it was too short, there was the danger of accidental discharge when the arrow was pulled towards the inside part of the bow.

Seiya stood next to Minato.

“Let’s trying shooting at the makiwara first. If that seems impossible, you can decline. Though the club has some as equipment, what will you do for the yugake?”

“…I’m fine.”

“All right. It’s a waste of time to go back to the classroom to get your gym clothes, so I will lend mine to you.”

Minato changed into the t-shirt and jersey, and took out the dragonfly-patterned pouch from his bag. Inside was a well-used yugake. The other day, when Seiya had said that he was carrying around a treasure, he was referring to this.

There are people who think that when shooting a bow, the end of the arrow was pinched and pulled back, but in fact, the thumb was used to hook the bowstring and pull it. Minato used a three-fingered kataboushi yugake (4), and the groove at the base of the thumb where the bowstring is hung from was called the tsurumakura. Since the position and form differed slightly depending on the yugake, it was difficult to use something unfamiliar. “Kake gae no nai” (5) was an expression that came from kyudo, with the “kake” meaning yugake.

Minato put on his shitagake (under glove) and yugake, applied giriko (glove powder) to his middle finger to prevent slipping, making a squeaking sound.

As he stood in front of the makiwara, his heart was striking the alarm bells. Although he never failed to do muscle training and rubber bow practice, this was actually the first time in a while that he had held a bow.  The anxiety of not knowing whether his movements were correct or not grew stronger. However, his body moved by itself, and before he knew it he had already nocked his arrow.

He performed gyousha (7). He carefully drew the bow back to its limit. When he drew the bow back to its fullest position, “kai,” Minato counted.

One, two, three, four, five—.

The arrow left Minato’s hand, and hit the center of the makiwara.

When he set down his bow, Tomi-sensei called out to Minato.

“Ooh, you have a beautiful form. If that’s the case then you’re fine.”

Minato tightly pressed his lips together, and took out the arrow embedded into the makiwara. When he exhaled on his shoulder, Seiya, who was watching attentively from a little distance away, also sighed heavily in the same way.

Once they finished preparations, Seiya, Minato, and Kaito lined up at the entrance in that order. It was the beginning of nyuujou (entering the dojo).

They bowed, then moved forward with their feet scraping the floor. They turned towards their respective targets, and then briefly sat down and gave a shallow bow. Their lined-up position at this moment was called honza. When they stood up, they got into the position for shooting and then sat down again. This position was referred to as shai, the position where one shot from their sitting position was called “zasha,” and the position where one was always standing was called “rissha.”

As the three of them nocked their arrows together, Tomi-sensei began to explain.

“As you can see, aren’t they nocking two arrows? Those two arrows are called ‘hitote,’ shot in the order of haya (first arrow), and then otoya (second arrow). First up is Takehaya-kun. The first person to shoot is called the ‘oomae.’”

When he was called, Seiya stood up with his nocked bow. He spread his feet, set the bow on his left knee, and removed his right hand from around his waist. With that as his cue, Minato, who was second, also stood up, and followed Seiya’s movements.

Seiya took the bowstring with his right hand, gripped the bow with his left, and faced the target again. He raised both arms in front of his body, slowly bringing the arrowhead to the center of the target. The exact moment when the bow was taut was the highlight of kyudo. The cross shape formed by the person and the bow conferred a pleasant tension to the viewer, and of course the person themselves.

One, two, three, four, five—.

It hit the center. An ooh sound went up.

With Seiya’s tsurune as a signal, Minato got his bow into the uchiokoshi position. Everyone thought that Minato’s arrowhead would slowly approach the center of the target as well.

However, the arrow left Minato’s hands early, not aimed at the center of the target at all, and it landed a great distance before the target. “Before the target” meant the right-hand side, and “behind” it meant the left. Since the arrow was released at a speed as though he was startled out of his wits, the kyudojo became noisy in an instant. Some people were looking at each other with expressions that said, “What was that?”

Tomi-sensei spoke playfully, “Were you nervous so many beautiful ladies here? Whether you hit or miss, having a poker face is one of the basics. It is courtesy with regards to others to not show emotions. Unlike archery, you can gain a point just by hitting the target anywhere. You only either hit or miss. Well then, the person who goes last is called the ‘ochi.’”

Kaito should have used Minato’s tsurune as a cue to get his bow into the uchiokoshi position, but he had to be told to do it. He drew the bow to its limit, and waited for the moment of hanare, but the arrow missed the target.

In the second round, the arrow that Seiya released went behind the target. Having finished shooting the arrows he had in his hand, he began the process of taijo (exiting the dojo), but Minato didn’t move. The raging palpitations of his heart, and pulsations at the back of his neck were deafening. He cautiously got his bow into uchikoshi, and seemed to be drawing it close to the target on the lawn, but he couldn’t breathe.

I can’t let go, I absolutely cannot let go—.

Minato repeated that many times in his heart. He pulled the arrow to half of its length, and then tried to draw it even wider from there, but the arrow flew out again while he was doing that, and it went high above the target, hitting the curtain that was covering the azuchi.

In the end, Kaito managed to hit the target, and it ended with a total of six shots, with two targets of 1:0:1.        

“It’s more difficult than it looks to hit the target in kyudo. That’s why, it is such a pleasure when you do hit it. As I’m thinking of everyone learning together, people who are interested are sure to gather here tomorrow as well.”

After they were dismissed by Tomi-sensei’s words, Kaito waited for Minato to finish changing clothes before approaching him.

“Oi, Narumiya. What was with those earlier shots… Even though the ‘makuuchi’ (6) can’t be helped, why did you do it so early? Since you shot it so early, I couldn’t even get into yugamae in time.”

“Hey, didn’t I say that I couldn’t do it from the beginning? I didn’t mean to release it so soon.”

“Hah? What a lame excuse. You shot normally at the makiwara. But as soon as you stood in front of the target, you did those messy shots. Aren’t you ashamed as an archer?”

“…Oh, I am. I’m already not an archer anymore… Move, I’m going home now.”

Minato shook off Kaito, and walked quickly towards the exit.

“Minato, are you coming tomorrow? …Since I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You don’t have to, since I already stopped doing kyudo!”

Standing next to Seiya as they watched Minato run off, Tomi-sensei whispered to him.

“Takehaya-kun, is it possible that…”

“…He has hayake.”

Minato mounted his bike and sped off without looking anywhere but ahead.

It began to rain. Gripping the wet, slippery handlebars tightly, he pushed his bike on and ascended the steep hill road. His tail lamp left a trail of red afterimages on the gleaming asphalt, and the sound of car tires repelling the water overtook it. When he saw the torii, he stopped his bike and entered Yata no Mori.

At the Yata no Mori Kyudojo, the man was standing on the other side of the bamboo fence of the outdoor stands. As if so that the man would not find him, he crouched down on the spot to watch him. Maybe because of the humidity being high due to the rain, the clear tsurune from before couldn’t be heard, but the shots he sent out from his relaxed limbs were still beautiful. Deviation-free movements that were somewhat liberated. And yet, there was also a somewhat solemn feeling.

It was as though he was performing a prayer.

What would I wish for on a night where the moon and stars couldn’t be seen?

Suddenly, he met eyes with the man. Was it natural to spot him because the other side was on a higher ground?

The man made a scissors gesture with his yugake-covered right hand, and casually beckoned him over. Minato didn’t refuse him, simply staring vacantly at that gesture without using his brain. Then, the man placed his bow at his feet, and then went to the edge of the shajo and crouched down. “Come, boy,” he beckoned him with both hands.

It’s like he’s—.

“I am not a dog or a cat.”

“Well then, come here quickly. A soaking wet boy in the dark looks like a ghost from here, so it’s really scary.”

“I don’t want to make the shajo dirty.”

“It’s fine, it can just be mopped up later. You’re going to mop it up, right?”

He laughed, just like that night. Minato went up to the shajo, still dripping wet. The man picked up his bow lying on the ground and left that spot, then returned with a wrapped packet in his hand.

“Take off your clothes and dry them out, since I’m lending you this beginners’ training uniform. The men’s changing room is right in front of the reception desk. Also, you don’t need to be so formal with me.”

After he changed his clothes and returned, the man was sitting in a corner of the shajo. The spots where Minato dripped on were also completely wiped clean. “There you are,” he said, handing him a can of coffee that had a flame design on it this time.

Minato cupped the can with both hands.

“…It’s hot.”

“It gets cold at night. Oh, I have something good. Do you want to eat it too?”

When he wondered what was going to appear, it turned out to be oyaki (8). With red bean paste. Minato tossed the sweet oyaki into his mouth, downing it with the canned coffee.

After finishing his drink, the man began to adjust his bowstring’s nakajikake (nocking area). The groove of the arrow’s nock was slightly bigger than the bowstring’s thickness. In order to make it easier to nock the arrow, glue was applied to the bowstring and then it was wrapped in hemp, before it was adjusted to a reasonable thickness.

Minato looked up at the night sky and muttered, “Is it impossible for Fuu to come since it’s raining today?”

“Yeah, I’m going to call him on the next sunny day. Your shoulder is the perfect perch for him after all.”

“I’m not an ornament. By the way, how long do you do this for?”

“It was supposed to be until around nine P.M., but I only seem to be using it in the daytime recently. When I use it, I take the key out of the mailbox, then place the fee on the reception desk. 50 yen for an hour. Apparently couples sneak in here at night, since there’s no one here.”

“And this is supposed to be a sacred dojo…”

“You don’t seem to have much experience in that area. Shall I teach you the basics?”

“You perverted old man.”

The man grinned, as he used two small wooden block-like objects, called douhou, to tighten the nakajikake firmly. Thinking that he was restarting his practice, he instead said something unexpected.

“I get the feeling that you’re experienced with kyudo. Do you wanna try shooting a bow for a bit?”

“Um, no thanks.”

“Don’t be shy. Didn’t you come here because you want to shoot a bow?”

“I said, no thanks!”

Minato came to his senses at his own raised voice.

“…Sorry, I’m going home now.”

“Before you go, it’s okay for you to let out whatever you want here. Telephone lines don’t even pass through this kyudojo, so it’s a place isolated from the modern world in a sense. I’m someone who doesn’t exist in your reality. What you say now will never be told to anyone other than me.”

The man waited for Minato’s reply.

A long time passed, and Minato squeezed out the words, as if he was gasping them out.

“How are you able to do such beautiful shots? …I got ‘hayake’ in my last middle school tournament, and after that…I’ve gotten scared of shooting a bow.”

Hayake was a condition where one shoots an arrow even though one hasn’t decided on it. Without arriving at kai, the arrow was shot in the midst at drawing the bow apart. It was said to be a serious affliction in kyudo, much like the yips disease in golf. (9)

“After I lost in the tournament, I resumed practicing. Even though I could endure standing in front of the makiwara, I couldn’t last even one second in front of the targets. My own body wasn’t listening to what I was telling it at all. The more I think that I must not shoot it, the more the arrow slips from my hands. Before long, even drawing the bow became scary. Staying like that, I caused trouble for everyone.”

When he first joined the club, he had a senpai who could hit very well. Someone who could have served as the team captain. However, when that person got hayake, the club had dropped out right before the prefectural tournament. It was a mystery at the time. Why did he let go so quickly? What made him let go even though he didn’t want it to? He must be a weak-spirited person.

Now that he himself was in that position, he finally understood. Even though he was scolded by his sensei with “Why are you releasing it?” even though he was criticized by his teammates with “You’re shooting it too early,” he couldn’t do anything on his own. It was exactly like a disease. Before he knew it, nobody said anything. He knew that they had given up on him.

“And so, I quit just like that. Today, I held a bow for the first time in half a year. I was hoping that it might have been healed, but I was still no good… This is so uncool, right? This is what a talentless hack is like.”

“I see, that must have been so painful for you.”

Minato raised his head in surprise.

What did he say just now?

Painful? Was I in pain?

He reflexively guarded his eyes. It was the best he could do to withstand the things that were welling up.

The fear from the appearance of the hayake was similar to drowning in a muddy stream, but not everyone could sympathize with it.

“…Could I ask for your name? I’m Minato, Narumiya Minato.”

“Takigawa Masaki. Since I’m mostly called ‘Masa-san’, I’ll call you Minato as well.”

“Masa-san, I don’t know what to do… I don’t want to do kyudo anymore. I don’t want to reconfirm my unsightly self. So when my dad told me to take the entrance exams for a public high school because our finances were tough, I thought I was saved. With that, I didn’t have to continue on with the private school I was attending, so that was a justification for quitting kyudo. But even so, I couldn’t stop running and doing muscle training. It feels like the bow is trying to call me back…”

—The tsurune is calling me.

The number of promises that he had failed to fulfill had become his fetters. Will you abandon everything and run away? The heroics of Minato that Ryouhei talked about were in the past, and nowadays he was the same as a warrior scurrying back home after losing a battle.

“But you still want to draw a bow. Am I right?”

“…Yeah. But how can I recover from hayake…?”

“You’re looking at someone who overcame hayake right now.”

Masa-san grinned.

Previous | Next

[brynne-lagaao]

(Fanfic) Set in Stone - Chapter One

Title: Set in Stone

Pairing: Sarumi

Chapter: 1/18

Rating: M

Mirrors: AO3 | Website

Summary: Yata wasn't sure what he was expecting when he performed a summon on his own in a fit of drunken loneliness. It definitely wasn't some asshole demon with a bad attitude, even if that demon happened to be frustratingly hot. But breaking their contract was going to mean working together, and he wasn't sure how much of that he could take before he snapped... one way or another.

Note: Thank you to @dropletons for being my beta and to @chromekins for helping with the magic aspect. This fic is not entirely accurate in terms of modern magic and the demon lore was basically made up to suit the story, but I tried to keep somewhat of an authentic feel, so hopefully that succeeded.

The mingled warm scents from cooking were still lingering in the still air of Yata’s apartment when he stumbled in, muttering curses to himself and kicking the door shut recklessly behind him. It smelled strongly of caraway with the usual traces of cinnamon, remnants of a dinner thrown together with the goal of the evening strongly in his mind.

“Hah!” The sharp exclamation about summed up how well that had gone. Yata resisted the urge to punch the wall, scowling to himself. His odds weren’t improving a fucking bit, even with spells behind him. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong. He’d never failed a cast in the kitchen; that was his specialty. But for some reason, when it came to this…

When it came to his goddamn love life – or in this case, his sex life – nothing seemed to stick.

Yeah, like I’m gonna get a good love life anyway. The bitterness of that thought seeped in even through the haze left by the alcohol he’d plugged himself with all night – spending more of his already tight budget than he really should’ve. Yata let out a soft ‘ch’, carelessly shucking his coat and stepping out of the entryway. Without bothering to turn on a light, he pulled up a chair at his overflowing table and flopped into it with an aggrieved huff.

Fuck this. Why the hell do I bother? He didn’t even like clubs. But he kept going back, like a dumbass.

Despite his situation, he still should’ve been able to manage something casual – hell, a one night stand would’ve been fine with him at this point; he could count the number of times he’d hooked up with anyone over the past year on one hand and still have fingers left. It was lame. He wasn’t huge on no-strings-attached, but strings were probably a bad idea anyway given who and what he was.

And he hadn’t gotten laid in months. It fucking sucked.

Yata scowled, frustrated with that thought. It wasn’t the biggest of his problems, but it was one that nagged at him. He’d had just enough sex to know what he liked, and just enough partners who didn't stick around long enough to become anything special to know that he was going to have trouble finding it with someone who mattered. Today was supposed to be the first step in moving towards separating “satisfying sex” from “people who mattered”, but...

As it turned out, it still fucking mattered who the “satisfying sex” was with. It mattered a lot. Even lowering his standards down to “someone who doesn't piss me the fuck off” hadn’t gotten him anywhere.

What's it take, huh? Yata tipped his head back to aim his frown at the ceiling. A one-night stand wouldn't solve his main problem, but it would’ve been a moment of something nice, assuming he found someone he liked at least enough to make it fun.

Outside of the frustration, though, he was still painfully aware of a hollow feeling at his core. It was something that had been growing since he’d gained a full awareness of his particular situation, nearly five years ago. Time hadn't seemed to do much to soften the blow.

Ironically, time was something he had a hell of a lot of...

Either way, that was how it was. Yata raised his head again, taking in his small living space and the dim outline of its contents in the light of the moon streaming through the window. The apartment was plain but comfortable, and he'd spent some time making it his in terms of personal touches. The kitchen, arranged as something of a nook against the rest of the apartment, was full of his tools and favorite herbs, everything arranged the way he liked it. The table was a hand-me-down, but it was small and sturdy, and it filled up the space in the room that had felt bare due to his lack of furniture and TV and other things. From his line of sight, he could even see into the bedroom where his worn but comfortable bed and his portable games and non-cooking spell components were stowed.

It was as good a place as he could make it, and he did like it. So at least if he was gonna be alone, he’d be alone somewhere that made him happy.

Technically, with the promise made to him by Homra, he wouldn't be totally alone, but he couldn’t really wrap his head around that yet. He was only twenty-five. It was gonna be a long time before he had to worry about it. At least right now he had friends.

Even if getting too attached to them would only hurt him in the end.

The buzz of the alcohol was still fogging his thoughts. Yata made another soft ‘ch’, pulling his mind out of the spiral it was heading for. He’d been there and done that already with the moping around over this crap, so there wasn't anything left to do about it. For now, he could just enjoy what he had.

He couldn’t deny the reality, though... and that reality was that he was lonely. Desperately so. In a way his closest friends and family couldn't ever fully understand.

Fighting against the ache that had risen at the back of his throat in response to that line of thought, Yata turned his head for a distraction. His eyes caught on a large, dark lump on the table beside him, and he reached out without even thinking, pulling the object toward him.

It was a book – Yata remembered now where it had come from. He’d been running errands and collecting materials for the supplier his coven got some of their rare components from – an employer that Kusanagi had vetted for him and who made use of his specific talents in service of earning a comfortable living. This had been a bonus that his boss had thrown in for “going above and beyond”, whatever that meant. Yata didn’t really trust the guy. He smiled a lot and always looked like he knew something nobody else did. It was hard to deal with him, honestly, but whatever, the money was good and he had a working relationship with Homra, so it was worth putting up with. The book had come along with one of those suspicious smiles and a really fucking vague, “I think you'll find something of value in these pages.”

That guy is always so damn annoying...

The book was bound in something like hard black leather and had a kind of ominous look to it that Yata wouldn't normally trust. He was planning to take it to Homra. Tomorrow. Tonight he’d had plans, so he’d just thrown it on the table and forgotten about it in his haste to get going with his own shit. Now, though, he felt a little rush of something like anticipation as he lifted it in both hands to examine it more closely.

Sometimes his instincts did that to him – and usually they weren’t wrong.

Fully interested now, Yata brought the book up to eye level, turning so the pale light streaming in from the window would give him a clearer view. He probably could’ve turned the lights on, but it was the next night after a full moon and despite the fact that his personal affinity was with the sun, he did have a natural soft spot for moonlight.

Considering what he was... Yeah. Anyway.

When he opened the cover, the first brown-edged page had an elaborate summoning circle printed on it and nothing else. No words at all for any kind of direction or explanation.

Weird. Frowning, Yata turned the page.

Once again, there was just a summoning circle. This one was a bit different from the first, but it still didn't have any words or anything. Flipping through a few more pages, Yata found that the rest of the book was just that: circles. Pictures. Nothing else.

The hell am I supposed to do with this? That guy was nuts. Yata scowled at the book in his hands, still turning pages with a certain amount of agitated energy. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, but somehow the anticipation from earlier was mounting. But if there weren't any directions, then...

His thoughts came to a halt as he turned one more page. The circle in front of him wasn't any different from the others – well, other than the subtle changes they all had in the runes and markings – but that feeling seemed to spike as he looked at it. When he reached out to idly brush his fingers over it, somehow it felt like a little jolt of energy extended from the page to travel up from his fingertips to the core of his body, spreading through him like water pouring into an overflowing cup.

Shit... What the hell was that? Yata blinked, sliding his finger up along the curve of the circle as he narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow in confusion. Something about this really drew him in, but he wasn't sure why.

Just... he had a sense. Like this circle held something amazing – seriously amazing – and he wanted more than anything to find out what.

It had been a while since he'd felt like this. It was intoxicating.

Well, maybe that was the alcohol, but who cared? Yata pushed himself up, setting the book open on his kitchen counter as he shoved the table off to the back of the room. The kitchen faced east – he knew that from practice – so he positioned the table directly opposite and the chairs off to the sides, and then hurried into his bedroom to grab some candles and chalk.

Flames to the north, south, east and west – open space in the middle – and small earthenware jars between the candle points, stocked with the herbs he’d grown himself in the planter by the kitchen window. With that arranged and chalk in hand, he was set to sketch out that compelling design.

Yata had never done a summoning before on his own. Well, technically, if he’d been a normal person, he probably wouldn’t have been able to without help. Homra did them from time to time as a group, what with their focus being on fae magic, but apart from supplying some of his energy for the cast, he hadn't really been a part of the complicated stuff. But from what Kusanagi had told him about what he might be capable of… well… He definitely could. Raw power could compensate for a hell of a lot.

If he stopped to think about it, this was kinda stupid and might even get him killed – you didn’t just fuck around with this stuff, and he didn’t even know what the book was for – but the mix of alcohol and that stark anticipation from earlier were making him bold and impatient.

His instincts almost never failed him. This would be good.

It was slow going, sketching out that circle. The amount of detail was stupid. Why’s it gotta be so complicated, huh? Yata was used to action and instinct with his magic – intuiting the right amount of herbs and spices rarely failed him, and he got the satisfaction of smelling the blend as it brewed or baked or stewed to perfection. He had a knack for it, Kusanagi had told him, and it didn’t hurt that his innate energy was so high. This kinda work was not his thing at all, drawing out little details on a rough surface on his knees with his head feeling foggy and impatience and frustrating welling within him as he struggled with it.

Somehow, his hands were pretty steady, though. And he still felt that confident urge pulling at him. Instinct, right. Usually follow those paid off. He could do this.

The better part of a half hour later, he was shaking out his aching hand and pushing himself up off his sore knees to study his work with some measure of satisfaction.

Got it! The circle looked pretty damn close to the book. Maybe a few smudges here and there. Whatever. He hadn’t got any of the details wrong. Maybe. Probably. He had a feeling it was right.

Good enough, anyway. Yata retrieved his matches and lit the candles, interrupting the calm domination of the moonlight in the room with flickering shadowed flame. It gave the whole setup an eerie edge, but it was kinda exciting in a way, too. He found a grin building on his face, the anticipation rolling in his belly in response.

“Let's fucking do this!”

Saying it out loud raised his spirits, too. Yata bent to crouch at the edge of the circle, the kitchen candle directly facing his back and the leather-bound book on the floor behind him.

When Homra did a summoning, Kusanagi was the one who laid out the terms. You couldn’t just summon aimlessly – there had to be a purpose, a condition, and... some other stuff. Incantations? He was pretty sure, but… Yata was having trouble thinking of it. He shrugged a little.

It’ll probably be okay. He could just rely on his natural power to cover that other stuff. No harm if it didn’t work, right?

When he set his fingertips down against the chalk line at the outer edge of the circle, he felt that energy course through his body, and the excitement from before rushed in. Yata shut his eyes, letting that feeling soak into his bones, and only opened them again when he had a clear and unyielding goal in his mind.

“Hey. Keep me company, huh?”

As soon as those words were out of his mouth, he felt the room go still – as if all of the latent energy in it had been sucked out. Yata felt a moment of sudden disorientation, his surroundings seeming to spin out from beneath him despite the fact that he was perfectly stationary, and then something rose up from the circle with great force – like a gust of wind, but without the air moving at all. He felt the force of it so strongly that he fell back on his ass, flailing a bit to catch himself with his hands.

The candles in the room snuffed out instantly, the lingering remains of their scent hanging in the air like a persistent memory.

A shadow seemed to grow out from the center of the circle, and Yata barely had space to process that when he felt energy drain from his body in a rush, leaving him gasping and his vision swimming. His arms trembled behind him before giving out, and he could only blink to clear the haze from his eyes as the shadow began to take shape in front of him.

Take... human shape. More or less.

The man in the center of the circle looked as if he'd been carved from that shadow, even as the darkness receded around him. His hair was dark and wild, and his skin was as pale as the moonlight in contrast. His frame was slender, and he wore dark, fitted pants, sleek boots, and thick-framed glasses. Nothing else.

More striking were the solid, smoothly curved brown horns that rose up from that stylish mess of hair – and the wide batwings that extended from his back. Behind him, a whiplike forked tail lashed sharply, dispelling what remained of the shadows.

Yata's befuddled mind was still struggling to process the new development, weighed down by the way his strength seemed to have left him, when the fuzzy image of the man lifted his head so their gazes met, pushing up his glasses with slender fingers as he did.

His eyes were pale blue, almost grey; Yata could see that clearly, despite his inability to make out many other details. They were striking, and not because of their appearance. Somehow, just… Even in the midst of this crazy situation, there was something in those eyes that felt hauntingly familiar to him.

What…? It felt like his heart leaped up into his throat for a moment; it was difficult to breathe. Why?

That feeling only held for an instant – barely long enough for his befuddled brain to acknowledge it – and then the reality of the situation struck all at once. Along with the sudden draining of what remained of his energy.

Fuck... It was a struggle to even keep his eyes open, but this wasn’t good... It wasn’t good at all...

The demon he’d just inadvertently summoned clicked his tongue sharply, mouth abruptly turning down in what looked like baffled irritation, and spoke in a low, flat tone. “Are you some kind of idiot or what?”

That was the last thing that registered before his brain gave up and sank into unconsciousness.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Post-reconciliation, Yata gets a bit injured during a fight, and Fushimi sees it happen. It's nothing new and the injuries aren't really severe, but Yata's sweater gets torn pretty badly, so Fushimi lets him wear his S4 coat. They head for S4 headquarters after that to tend to Yata's wounds, but then the Alphabet Boys start to notice him wearing Fushimi's coat. Fushimi realizes how it looks to them. He says nothing, fully content with them understanding that Yata is his despite the fact that that isn't actually the case.

And meanwhile the rumor starts in S4 that Fushimi-san got so eager he ripped off Yatagarasu’s clothes XD Imagine this shortly post-ROK, Yata and Fushimi are fighting side by side against some criminal Strains who have been causing trouble. The two of them are struggling at first, like Yata had hoped it would be easy to fall back into that old routine of fighting back to back but they’ve both changed and they’re not entirely in rhythm anymore. Even so they’re managing pretty well, right up until Yata gets jumped in a sneak attack. Maybe he would have even been hurt worse but the moment Fushimi sees Yata go down he sends a bunch of knives at the attacker. This finishes off the last Strain and Fushimi barely even looks at the Strains, all his focus on Yata. Yata sits up and says he’s fine, he’s not hurt too bad, he just got his clothes torn up and he’s a little bloody. Imagine Fushimi looking at him, face totally calm but really there’s a hundred emotions swirling inside him, and Yata puts a hand on Fushimi’s arm and says ‘Really. I’m all right, Saruhiko.’

Fushimi nods and helps Yata stand, right at this moment it starts raining and Yata shivers because his shirt really got ripped up. Without a word Fushimi just throws his coat over Yata’s shoulders, murmuring that Yata probably doesn’t want to wear a blue coat but deal with it for now. Yata pauses and then pulls the coat closer as he’s like ‘…it’s your coat, so it’s fine.’ They’re both all awkward about this, both of them having confused emotions that they’re not quite ready to vocalize yet, and Fushimi clicks his tongue and tells Yata to follow him. They end up back at the S4 vans where the rest of the squad and some of Homra are waiting, Fushimi steering Yata towards the infirmary van to get bandaged up. Both of them are so focused on each other that no one notices how everyone around them is staring, everybody else very aware that Fushimi and Yata are here walking side by side and Yata is wearing Fushimi’s coat. As he’s getting Yata into the van Fushimi finally notices the stares but realizes that actually he doesn’t mind that much — in fact, if everyone wants to think this is Fushimi claiming his place, well, maybe that isn’t so bad.

[mikototsu-trash]

since you've talked about it before do you have any trans yata headcanons?

I certainly do my guy. 

Here are my previous posts about trans!yata: 1 | 2 I thought I talked abt this more but I can’t see any more posts about it on my blog so apparently not??? 

I would also like to direct u to @snow-runt‘s A+++++ trans!yata hcs tho bc it’s those hcs that got this idea in my head in the first place

So in my mind I guess I think Misaki would have figured out he was trans in his early tweens, maybe when he was about 11?? But he’s the typical trans narrative “always been a tomboy” type and it just kind of clicked that the reason he hated girly stuff so much is cause he’s a boy 

He’d start presenting masc when he started middle school, but wouldn’t tell his family because he doesn’t know how to communicate. He gets told off a few times for wearing the wrong uniform by teachers but eventually they just get tired of telling him because they know he’s not gonna change. 

He gets really snippy at people about being misgendered, which happens a lot while he’s in school, which is part of the reason he drops out as early as he does. 

When he and Saruhiko have their encounter in the bathroom that first time, Saruhiko asks why he’s in the boy’s bathroom, and Misaki just snaps at him “I’m a boy!” and Saruhiko doesn’t question it again. 

Once they get closer as friends, Saruhiko would get curious as to why Misaki’s mother seems to talk about him like he’s a girl though, and it’s at that point that Misaki confesses that he wasn’t born a boy, and he’s terrified of losing the only friend he has. Saruhiko blinks and says “Oh, you’re transgender” and Misaki nods and Saruhiko just goes “okay,” and doesn’t really bring it up again

Saruhiko does start to notice though as Misaki’s puberty kicks in and even though he has quite small boobs they still bug the shit out of him and he can’t stand periods and stuff. Saruhiko catches him using bandages to bind with while they’re getting changed for PE and he tells him off and orders a proper binder for him. He also tells Misaki to go to the goddamn doctor and go on the pill so he doesn’t have periods so often/they aren’t as heavy or painful. As much as Saruhiko is High Key A Mess, he’s still organised enough to make sure his best friend is not a mess. 

Once they’ve moved into the apartment together, Saruhiko starts researching a way for him to self-med, and he offers to fund Misaki’s HRT, as Misaki can’t afford it himself. Misaki cries a little bit. 

By the time they join Homra, Misaki is full-time and he tries his best to be stealth. Because he started transitioning quite young, he manages to at least pass as androgynous fairly easily, and it helps that he’s quite tall for someone who’s AFAB (considering the average height for a female in japan is like 5′2″) and his voice was already sort of deep. 

Misaki panics a little bit when he finds out Rikio is a member of Homra, seeing as they knew each other when they were kids. Rikio initially doesn’t quite recognise Misaki, but eventually it clicks. Misaki sees the look of recognition in his eyes, and internally starts cussing and panicking that Rikio will out him, but Rikio doesn’t say anything until the two are alone, when he quietly asks why he remembers Misaki as a girl. Misaki quickly explains he’s a guy, he was just born a girl, and tells him not to tell anyone else at Homra. Rikio simply says he understands. 

The only other people at Homra who know are Tatara, Izumo, and Anna. 

Anna knows because of her clairvoyance, 

Tatara knows because Misaki told him shortly after Saruhiko left. Tatara was a great source of support for Misaki during that time, and Misaki ended up admitting to him while he was quite upset everything Saruhiko did to support him while he was starting his transition. 

Izumo knows because he was trying to tend to Misaki’s injuries after a fight, and he told Misaki to take off his binder (which he thought was just a tank top) so he could take a look at the injuries underneath it, and Misaki vehemently refused. They argued for about 5 minutes before Misaki finally gave in and admitted “I can’t take it off because it’s a fucking breast binder okay?” Izumo is initially confused, and he’d probably say something like “You know I won’t care if you have gynecomastia. I care that you’re probably hurt pretty bad and won’t let me take a look” and Misaki kind of reluctantly admits no that’s not why he’s wearing it. Izumo would apologise at that point for pushing him, but still ask that he was allowed to take a look at his injuries. Once Misaki was cleaned up, Izumo would say smth like “pardon me if this is kinda intrusive, but don’t most trans guys get surgery to get ‘em chopped off?” and Misaki would say yes, but that costs money that I don’t have, at which point Izumo would offer to fund his top surgery with profits from the bar. Misaki is initially reluctant to accept the money, but Izumo insists that they normally apportion a certain amount of funds to charity anyway, and this counts as a charitable case, plus once he knows Misaki is binding he starts to notice him wincing when his ribs get sore and stuff. 

When he does get the surgery, they cover it up to the members that don’t know about Misaki’s trans status as him having a skateboarding accident and puncturing a lung and needing surgery to fix it up. 

Izumo also offers to pay for Misaki’s bottom surgery if he wants it- Misaki gets really embarrassed talking about it, but he told Izumo at one point that he can’t legally change his gender on his documentation unless he gets GRS, so Izumo knows he does want that surgery.

[its-love-u-asshole]

Shaking in My Skull [Ch 8]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Rating: T

Summary: Stuck on the plane between life and death, Saruhiko makes the decision to risk everything, forced to find faith in himself and the headstrong Yata Misaki as they both face unimaginable demons.

Note: -sighs- I'm so happy to be posting this finally lol. First, thanks to everyone who is still reading, I know it's been a ride and its not over lmaoo. That being said, I have finished writing this fic, and have 2 more chapters after this planned. I know I said it would only be 1 or 2 more, but I ended up writing 30k of ending so .....LOL I'm going to be posting the other two parts this week, so stay tuned for quick updates. Enjoy reading! Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over!!

AO3 Version

8 Tracks

"Remember, all you must do is touch the gate, and you will be evaluated."

Nagare's last words were clear, the task being shockingly easy despite the overall complexity of the journey.

Saruhiko had quirked his eyebrow in confusion, turning the words over along with Munakata's past ones.

“The closest someone ever got, was the entrance of hell’s gates.”

"But then," he began, voice weak in the empty cave, "why did Munakata say no one has ever gotten past the gates?"

If the gate is truly the finish line...

Saruhiko wanted to rescind his inquiry before Nagare had the nerve to throw him a solemn look.

The seated man shook his head, moving to the side in order for another door, the exit, to reveal itself. "Lesser humans have collapsed upon reaching the threshold. Not by plain exertion, but that coupled with the pure weight and burden of the journey itself. It is perhaps why the higher ups chose to lie to you, maybe they thought having a farther goal would keep you going longer. Sadly, I don't know how much good the kindness will do you. But..."

The door opened, giving way to a familiar, grey landscape. The one from just after they'd descended from heaven. To think he'd feel such a strong rush of nostalgia when it was so close to ending.

They moved forward, unspeaking, until they were on the other side, and Nagare's cryptic smile began to disappear behind cave rock.

"All I can say is, when it comes to lesser humans, don't be one of them."

--

It was less a gate, and more of a wall, the barrier keeping them from Hell. The wind around them swirled, the grey dust kicking up and brushing against the sleek material. It was a lot cleaner than Saruhiko would have imagined, shining marble, marred with a few scuffs here and there. After all, no one was going to be fighting to get in.

Except them of course, this was their goal. All along, they'd endured so much to get to this one place, as cursed as it was, and now...

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm scared," Misaki whispered, hand twitching at his side. "This is it...after this...we'll be..."

Alive. That was the unspoken truth of it, but it didn't seem real. Not for him at least. Saruhiko watched as Misaki's face settled into one of serenity, no doubt remembering the challenges that had brought them here. After Nagare's parting congratulations, they'd set down a path much similar to the first, dark and made of cobblestone, with no trip ups or obstacles. Eerily silent, they'd walked, on edge and waiting for malicious whispers or growls of monsters. But there had been none of it. Only sand and rock, just like before, Nagare's cave dissolving behind them beneath layers of dirt. It was almost like a victory lap, but neither of them had been smiling. It was hard to feel anything but disbelief, after all that had transpired.

It was nearly overwhelming, the image of something towering in the distance, the gates which would lead them to their end, whatever it may be. They'd been unnerved, and Saruhiko thought maybe he understood why no one had yet to make it past those gates. It would have been easy, to lose his mind and drive right then and there, beaten and hopeless. He thought about his father, about Misaki's fierce encouragement, of his friends and their grief, and the inklings of hope he'd allow to grow inside of himself.

He wouldn't be one of those others though, he'd see it through, whether he failed or not. His reflection only fed that.

Had he changed? Yes, there was no use denying it now, staring up at the finish line. He'd changed in many ways, he'd carry that change with him forever no doubt. Misaki would too, the good and the bad. They’d never be the same, it wasn't possible, to not remember the terror and trauma, the things they'd seen. What they'd given up...

Saruhiko closed his eyes, feeling the dread from before threaten to swallow him up. He hadn't been able to let it go yet, not since leaving Nagare. He had felt sick with each soundless step forward, clutching Misaki's hand until the path had finally receded into dust, gone.

"Your response has to be truly honest, you have to mean it. And believe me, I will know if you don't."

He swallowed down the bile, the urge to vomit.

"It almost doesn't feel real," Misaki said again, eyeing Saruhiko as he stared into the intricate designs of the marble.

No, it doesn't. Who knew if it was. Saruhiko didn't trust much anymore. But he knew this wasn't a dream, he'd long since stopped his skepticism over it. He was dead, he'd gone on this insane journey with a complete stranger, stupidly fallen for said stranger, and now...

Well, he'd find out huh?

"Thank you Saruhiko."

The taller blinked in confusion, and had his breath momentarily stolen by the look on Misaki's face. Tired, but still bright and all consuming, the way Misaki should always be. It was a weird moment he had then, staring at Misaki and really taking in his face, the bags under his eyes, his dirt marred skin and bloodied hands. He looked close to collapsing, they probably both did, and Saruhiko wouldn't have minded much, burying his face in the other's neck and staying there. Misaki's hand was cold despite their contact, his skin scratchy, but it warmed Saruhiko in a way fire never could, coupled with those amber eyes which had captured him since day one. It was in that one strange moment, in front of hell's gates, and without much surprise, that Saruhiko knew he loved Misaki. "Back then...I know you didn't have to do this with me, but you did. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been here with me."

Denial bubbled in his throat. What had he done? It was Misaki, pulling them all along...Saruhiko had been pathetic and withdrawn, not worthy of any praise, not at the start. Not when it had counted. If only he'd--

"Shut up, whatever you're thinking, dumbass," Misaki said with a light laugh. "We're here because we worked together, equally, get it?"

In all honestly it was a weak statement, said barely above a whisper, but it held a finality in it which Saruhiko couldn't dodge. On any other occasion, Saruhiko would've been able to dismiss that, hell, it was what he was good at. But with Misaki staring at him like he was, with nothing but pure fondness in his eyes...

He didn't have the heart to fight it, or to voice his internal fears. To bring up how Misaki shouldn't be so hopeful they'd succeeded. Munakata had said there was no guarantee of anything after all, what if they'd done something wrong? Saruhiko was also nervous about meeting with Mikoto, just on the other side of the gate, the very thought making him want to turn right around. They were all completely reasonable things to worry about, to anguish over, but he wouldn't, not with the person he...loved putting so much faith in him.

For the redhead, they'd done it. At a cost, but they'd survived. They were going to go home, and set things right. How could he bring himself to dispute any of it?

So he would wait, because even if he couldn't do it, couldn't bring truth to the outcome of their journey, Mikoto would eventually.

For now, he'd do what he'd probably always wanted to.

He cradled Misaki's face, his palm shaking as he cupped his cheek; Misaki didn't look surprised in the slightest, and maybe that was all he needed. "So sure of yourself," Saruhiko said with a weak scoff, leaning forward until their foreheads were touching. He didn't have the perfect words, or at least, no way to convey them. But, his mind was filled with Misaki, would never not be, and he hoped he could show it. "But...you too."

Thank you, Misaki.

Misaki's hands tangled in Saruhiko's hair when their lips met, the kiss deep and containing too many feelings at once, and Saruhiko kept coming back for more, because he'd never get enough. Misaki was everywhere, was going to be a part of him for the rest of eternity, there was no denying it. If they'd met sooner, the proper way, maybe things could've been different. He breathed in the other's scent, mapped out his skin, because it might just be his last chance. Misaki sighed into the kiss, his lips moving hungrily, before his breathing stuttered at the sound of the wind howling around them, and Saruhiko knew there would be no more waiting.

"I think…I love you, Saruhiko." Misaki's arms were around him, trembling along with his words, and squeezing him one last time before he pulled away, the shining amber gaze flickering to the wall before them. "Are you ready?"

Saruhiko chose not to answer, knowing words would never be enough from his mouth, and simply reached out, palm sliding onto the smooth marble, and taking no comfort in the fact that he was the first ever to do so. Misaki's hand joined him, flat on the rock, together as always.

He wasn't prepared for whatever was about to happen, but he'd face it head on, like Misaki had shown him. At least if nothing went right, he'd always have the memory of Misaki's lips on his, and the redhead standing by his side.

The wind stopped altogether, and then the wall began to part.

--

"What are you doing?" A shrill voice rang through the room, more and more impatient with each passing moment.

As if the dilemma at hand weren’t stressful enough.

"Yeah, get on with it!"

There was an irritated grunt at that, for once accompanied with words. Well, at least Mikoto was on his side. "We want to wait."

"Why? Why wait? Just zap them where they need to go, they touched the gate!" A whiny, annoyed voice rang through the meeting room as the pool reflected the image of two young men passing through hell's gates.

"You've babied them a ton, he has a point."

"No one is babied on the Return." Douhan’s commanding voice silenced the childish one, her eyes narrowing slightly as Nagare approached.

"Yes, yes, I agree. But we shouldn’t bring up useless truths. We all gave them favor.”

“Yes, but—”

"Enough." Munakata frowned at the floor, lifting his cane high before bringing it back down, the noise piercing. “That’s…enough.”

There was a tense silence, a few hums of irritation disrupting it a few times before the sound of footsteps clicking on the tile overpowered it all. Munakata walked until he was at the pool, stopping to observe the events closer. Regardless of what any of them said, it fell on Munakata’s shoulders to communicate the will of the universe.

All occupants of the room peered into the water, the somber mood detectable to even the most insensitive.

There was no easy way to go about this, and there shouldn't ever be. Mikoto was especially grim in his silence, and Munakata wouldn’t fault him for not backing him up in this instance. The rest of the room’s occupants backed off upon receiving Munakata’s hard stare, the useless protests dying as they all made way for Munakata to pass them.

“Time, I am aware that I am asking a lot of you, but I would encourage you to be sympathetic to these two’s plight,” Munakata said, addressing the lanky man with violet hair, and the other nodded in apology, the last of his hostility diminishing.

Yes well, it is difficult to not feel some affection for the two Returners. Munakata himself had grown quite fond of them, and yet he couldn’t manage a smile, not an inkling of one.

With a final, yet reluctant agreement around the circle, a portal was opened.

The man in the seat beside him stood up with a low grunt, the chain at his belt echoing in the quiet stillness. Munakata nodded to him, making sure he would keep order in his absence, and addressed the crowd for the last time on the matter.

"I believe they deserve a proper explanation."

--

Yata couldn't know if it was a blessing or a curse to not see hell upon entering through its actual gates. The world of apparent suffering was separated from the entrance by a small, regal building. Or at least, that's what he guessed. The building was shrouded in fog on all sides, no one and nothing else in sight. It almost looked like an ancient palace, or the ruins of one, and only a small chunk. It was a much appreciated let down if he was being honest. When he thought of hell, he'd been expecting torturous heat, unending screams, maybe demons and criminals, not...nothing. In a way it was good, he wouldn't give himself more nightmares by actually witnessing whatever hell actually looked like, being either a fiery pit or filled with creatures, he wasn't sure. Would probably never be, or he really hoped not. Though, he doubted anything could be worse than what they'd already done. The things he'd seen and overcome, what he'd given up...hell couldn't possibly come close, and he was nearly certain of that.

Saruhiko tensed beside him, observing their environment with a similar mix of confusion and relief, before settling on the landmark ahead of them.

Yata watched as he paled, the fear still evident as ever in those clouded blue eyes.

What are you thinking?

What's hurting you? We can hurt it back.

All that and so much more was on the tip of his tongue, but they wouldn't come out, wouldn't risk shattering the abnormal silence around them for fear of somehow fucking everything up.

Okay, so maybe he was more than just a bit scared as well, he could admit it. But there was no way they could stand there forever!

"Saruhiko...what--"

"He's in there," the taller spoke, level and neutral despite the anxiety he radiated.

"Huh?"

"The devil, this is where he lives no?" Saruhiko began walking forward stiffly, pulling Yata along with seemingly renewed courage. He clicked his tongue, a welcome response that Yata had actually grown to miss. "Useless. Nagare said we'd be evaluated at the gate, why does he need to meet with us?"

Regardless of the displeasure laced in the tone, Yata felt the need to ground Saruhiko in some way, like the other had always done for him. They looked out for each other, but in this case, Yata probably couldn't convince Saruhiko otherwise.

Saruhiko was afraid of Mikoto-san. He had been since the very first moment, in spite of the man's laid back exterior and the help he'd offered. Yata couldn't understand, but he wouldn't hold it against Saruhiko, he couldn't control it. Besides, if Mikoto-san was the devil, or something similar, then surely there was some reason to worry...right?

Although, compared to the secretive nature of Munakata, Yata couldn't say he didn't respect Mikoto-san just a bit more.

His own feelings aside, he'd be there for Saruhiko, no matter what.

"I don't know but...whatever he has to tell us, we can handle it. I'm sure it'll be over soon," Yata tried, stepping in between the taller and the door as they came to it. He wanted Saruhiko to look at him, really see him, and know he wasn't lying. "Whatever happens, it's you and me at the end of it, got that?"

One way or another, they'd both come through.

Saruhiko seemed to know that without Yata having to say it aloud too, because he gladly closed the distance between them, resting his forehead on Yata's with closed eyes. It was like he was taking in the moment as much as he could, like it was the last time.

Yata wouldn’t let himself worry about what that could mean.

Instead, he waited until the other pulled away, wordless as he nodded, and moved them towards the door.

--

Old, torn tapestries lined the unstable walls of the room, tattered paintings and chipped vases lying about the floor.

Saruhiko didn't care though, had no curiosity left in him when it came to the afterlife. He didn't bother listening to Misaki's mumblings about "Suoh dynasty artifacts" or anything alike. Of course, he'd connected the dots long ago, knew it had something to do with the devil's past, but he didn't have it in him to be interested. Knowledge or not, insight or none, he'd had enough. He had no desire to be there, in front of Mikoto, but at least he'd expected it. And now? The guy was nowhere to be found, not even lounging in the seat at the center of the room unperturbed, in the way Saruhiko so loathed.

Typical.

Misaki was still poking around, but even he eventually felt antsy, pacing around the small space with energy Saruhiko couldn't believe he possessed. It was a miracle Saruhiko himself was standing at all.

Misaki wasn't having it though, fighting his exhaustion. He was much too anxious for the outcome of the journey to finally be revealed, but probably anticipated it more than Saruhiko, who was trying his best to keep his fear in check. However, watching Misaki search around was at least a welcomed distraction. That hadn’t changed, his desire to keep his eyes on Misaki, the other’s bright eyes and fiery demeanor being all it took for Saruhiko to see light in the world, if just for a second.

At that moment it was harder though, getting that same rush, when Misaki was so eagerly trying to find out the conclusion of what had been an uncertain, but terrible, journey. Much to Saruhiko's confusion, the redhead even resorted to checking every corner and crevice for a sign of life.

But there was no one. No usual grunts or the dragging of heavy footsteps, no clinking of metal. No sign of the devil he'd come to so dread. Or, so he'd thought.

"I do apologize for my tardiness, I was dealing with some business."

Saruhiko whipped around as the portal closed behind Munakata, but any words of displeasure or criticism died in his throat painfully upon actually seeing the angel. Already, Saruhiko could sense something off. Munakata's usual gleam and his knowing smile were gone, replaced with slow footsteps and an austere air. It wasn't the face of someone who had good news to deliver by any means, and Saruhiko was excessively put off by the fact he himself wasn't surprised by the somberness. And yet despite this, the hope and anticipation beat hard and fast in his chest, the overwhelming pleas aching to spill from his lips.

Please let me go home.

Please let us go home.

It was all he wanted. Saruhiko felt like a sniveling child from the sheer desperation alone, and he redirected that anger at Munakata himself, who really shouldn't have been standing there in the first place.

Just send us home.

That was how it should've worked no? He didn't want congratulations or to be seen off. So how come...

Again, his stomach protested, aware of the gravity of the situation before Saruhiko allowed himself to fully acknowledge it. The denial inside him grew more and more. Not even having Munakata there, instead of Mikoto, did much to relieve the apprehension.

Part of him knew. Part of him had known since leaving Nagare's. But he denied and denied, deflecting the blame elsewhere, anywhere, even to the angel before them.

"What are you doing here?" Saruhiko spat, voice shaking, and Misaki too muttered in annoyed agreement.

"Yeah, where's Mikoto-san?"

Munakata's calm steps halted, and his brow quirked, the first sign of a not so grim emotion since he'd stepped into view. It was gone shortly however, giving way to his steady gaze and careful words. "I can see your confusion, given what Change told you, and I apologize for lying. However, I felt it necessary to speak with you, and the duty falls to me regardless I'm afraid. Suoh was left to deal with other matters, though I assure you, he can see and hear everything."

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, a plethora of responses bubbling up inside him, on the tip of his tongue. What was Mikoto good for? Where was the reasoning behind him having such high power? Maybe the devil needed to be so uncaring, dealing with lost souls and the depths of hell. But something about this was grating on his nerves, and he couldn't fathom why it was sticking to his thoughts, like a germ. He hated not being able to figure things out, and in this case it was especially irritating. He knew nothing, other than something was off.

Well, at least it provided a mild distraction from Saruhiko's true predicament, and why they were there in the first place. Munakata's solemn tone...

Again, he deflected, voice choppy and irritated, because he needed to be angry at someone, lest he lose it before his suspicions were actually clarified.

Denial, denial. Deflect, avoid. That's all you do, huh?

Saruhiko hissed to himself, glaring into the void where Munakata happened to be standing and--goddamnit, why are we here?

"What, can't do his own job?" Saruhiko glanced towards the seat in the center of the room, the unspoken meaning reaching Munakata easily. Mikoto's lack of presence was becoming more of a source of anxiety than relief for Saruhiko, as if the other were off plotting something or...or he didn't know what. He didn't know shit. But Mikoto wasn't there, and it couldn't be good, right?

All he has to do is sit around. He can't do that right?

The fact that Misaki wasn't even defending Mikoto was also strange, but understandable. The redhead was getting impatient next to him, fidgeting constantly. Saruhiko could tell from simply being next to him; Misaki radiated agitation, and he nearly reached over in some awkward show of comfort, when the flash of something starved lit up Munakata's face. Waiting, expecting.

Saruhiko and Misaki both inhaled for reasons unknown, and while Munakata looked no less grim overall, his mouth twitched up ruefully.

"Ah...quite. I suppose hell is a tough place to manage," he spoke carefully, turning around with grace to begin walking to the throne. "It would be advisable for the rightful deity to take his place here when it is required. Order is important, as I’ve said before. I'm glad you can see that, Fushimi-kun."

Munakata sat elegantly, falling into the seat with familiar ease and comfort, his cane sitting perfectly against the armrest, and Saruhiko's mind finally pieced the fragments together, the revelation a slap to the face.

Order.

“I know it’s true for Munakata-san especially, he likes order, so this job is quite painful for him."

The true reasons behind Totsuka's words. The insinuation that order was hard to maintain.

The way Munakata stared at heaven as if it was something truly novel, a place he was not allowed to go.

The fact that Munakata had refused to step through the portal when dropping them off in the utopia.

He'd been unable to.

Because Munakata wasn't in charge of heaven, was he?

Of course. Of course.

Order is important, needed, when dealing with chaos. When dealing with...

"It's you," Saruhiko breathed out, his body torn between relaxing and backing away as quickly as possible. It was a strange mix, the part of him which knew he should be afraid, and the part which continued to respect Munakata regardless. "It's always been you."

To feel betrayed, relieved, or just plain stupid, he couldn't decide.

Munakata tilted his head, as if honored with the realization. Saruhiko was mostly at a loss, Misaki jolting him a few times in worry, and it kept Saruhiko grounded to reality in some way at the very least.

"Wait, Saruhiko...what's--" Misaki glanced anxiously between the ang--well, Munakata and Saruhiko, frantically trying to catch up with what was happening. Well, so was Saruhiko.

The biggest let down of the situation was probably the joke which was Mikoto. Mikoto, who'd been the real angel all along.

Fuck.

"He's the devil, this whole time and he never said anything," Saruhiko seethed, unable to form any coherence for his anger to come out. Luckily, Misaki had no problem with it. The redhead blinked, showing only a fraction of the shock Saruhiko felt, probably less put off given his dislike for Munakata anyhow, but he still managed to gape and jolt away from the deity.

"What...what the hell?! That's--"

"In my respectful defense, you are the ones who assumed," Munakata sighed quietly, and the pitying gaze from before had returned. "And it wasn't pertinent information in my eyes. My domain does not change my desire to help you. It doesn't alter my sympathy or personality." He paused, violet eyes flitting to the ground for half of a second. But it was enough, it was enough for Saruhiko to feel unwavering fear all over again, the mantra increasing in volume inside him.

You lied.

You lied.

You lied.

And the worst part was, he wasn't talking about Munakata.

"Nor..." Munakata rose from his seat once more, bowing in an apology which would never make any of this okay. "Nor does it change how sorry I am for what I'm about to tell you."

Saruhiko dared not meet Misaki's concerned eyes, all too convinced he was no longer worthy of the gaze.

--

For Yata, the words went by too fast, his heart speeding up just to stall once again in a fit of dread.

"Yata-kun, it is with my deepest admiration that I commend you for this success." Munakata smiled softly at him, but his eyes twinkled with a deep regret which Yata couldn’t understand. "You will be allowed to return home, and it will all be the same as before. You should be immensely proud of yourself."

Those were it, the words he’d wanted to hear all along. Yet now, they seemed unreal, untrue, like it would be snatched away in an instant in some cruel test.

There was just silence though, Munakata sad smile, and the weight of the sentence filling the room.

You will be allowed to return home.

His knees threatened to collapse under him, sending him to the dirty floor, the happiness taking on a weight which he had no idea how to hold. Yata stopped hearing anything else, the urge to cry hard to resist as he repeated the words to himself.

You can go home. You did it. You'll see mom and everyone, and--

As the words settled in his mind, he got stuck on one aspect, and his eyes burned more with unshed tears. Confused, he spoke, his voice soft and disbelieving. "Wait...the same as before, you mean--"

Munakata tilted his head forward, and Yata nearly burst from the relief blooming in his heart. "Nagare's trial was a test, but none of the consequences were real. I’m afraid time and reality can only be manipulated so much. We just needed to see if you could rise to the challenge, and you did. You may keep your art, and the skills associated with it."

The tears spilled, washing over his face, probably blending with his dirt caked skin unattractively, but what did he care? It had been a test, it hadn’t been real, he could go back to his work! At the mention of Nagare, he thought he heard Saruhiko choke, but Yata was too far overcome with joy to take it as anything other than surprise, and his first instinct was to crush Saruhiko in a hug. So he did.

Saruhiko was tense against him, but Yata hoped he could feel the gratitude and love laced in the gesture. It was lame, but Yata didn’t know what else to do. He was just…so thankful Saruhiko had agreed to come with him, couldn’t imagine not knowing or being without Saruhiko. When they were back to their lives, he’d show it properly, they’d do things the normal way. Or well, as normal as they could manage. Yata pulled away, wiping the water from his eyes hastily, but fresh tears appeared in the wake of old.

Was this real? He hoped. He wanted it to be more than anything else. Going home, with Saruhiko, getting to do what he loved again...

He knew they could do it. Knew it from the first moment.

Yata wondered if kissing Saruhiko would make the other upset right then...

Probably best to wait. For now Yata laughed, hanging off Saruhiko’s arm to balance himself. "Saruhiko! Did you hear that? You'll see your friends, it'll all be the same and—

Munakata cleared his throat at the same time Saruhiko cringed, as if struck, and the atmosphere of restoration was promptly erased, kicked to the ground cruelly as Saruhiko stared down, avoiding Yata’s gaze. Stubbornly, and with heavy denial of the strangling tension around them, Yata grabbed his face, tilting his chin up to get a better look.

It confirmed the worst. Yata's smiled dimmed as soon as he saw Saruhiko's expression, the harsh lines of guilt and distraught piercing a sword in Yata's side from how much he hated seeing the other in pain. Why was he in pain? It was so odd, because it wasn't shared this time, and it bothered Yata more than anything. They had made it...and Yata was happy, so deliriously happy, and Saruhiko should've been too.

But he wasn’t, and the fact something must be wrong to cause such a thing, made Yata’s chest ache.

"Saru..."

"I'm afraid, Fushimi-kun's case is different." Munakata spared them both, his voice calling them to look up, and suddenly, Yata didn’t want to hear what he had to say at all. The deity took a deep breath, the pause far too long for Yata’s liking before he began. “During the trial of Change, I’m afraid Fushimi-kun was not honest, a major requirement for the test. I’m sure you know that though, Fushimi-kun.”

Lied? How—

But he recalled Saruhiko’s hesitance, the strain in his voice when he’d answered yes to Nagare’s question. Yata knew, he knew, but he really wished he was wrong.

Yata prayed for it to be false, for Saruhiko to protest, but when the taller could only bow his head mournfully, the panic inside Yata completely revealed itself. He babbled, breathing harsh, and stepped in front of Saruhiko like a shield, one last time. “O-okay so, just…just ask him something else! I mean it wasn’t real anyways, it doesn’t—”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that. Fushimi-kun, you failed the trial, and in the Return, you either check every box, or you do not move on. I need to know you understand this.” Munakata’s eyes crinkled with sadness, and Yata shook his head furiously, enraged at being pushed aside but desperate to help Saruhiko. But he was powerless, he couldn’t do anything. It wasn’t him who had failed.

But what kind of bullshit was that? How could anyone tell Saruhiko, after everything he’d done, he’d failed. Yata thought he’d surely be sick, the grief and protectiveness swirling together in a helpless cocktail, and all he could do was stand there as Saruhiko forced his head up, looking like a kicked dog.

“I…understand.”

No.

Yata couldn’t hear this, wouldn’t hear this.

He yelled, the tears coming back, his words choked. “Saruhiko! You—”

You have to come back with me, you’re supposed to come back with me!

A life without Saruhiko, someone he’d come to trust so fully, to crave and picture by his side…it was impossible. There was no way. Please, fight this!

Saruhiko trembled violently beside him, caging in the rage or disappointment he must’ve felt, Yata didn’t know. All he knew was Saruhiko was the image of utter defeat, and it wasn’t right. The taller made no move to plead or cry, his face stricken, eyes clouding over, as if nothing could reach him but Munakata’s final words.

“It is clear then. I’m deeply regretful things turned out this way, but over this, I have no control. Please…forgive me.” Munakata pressed on however, ignoring any of Yata’s outbursts, and the redhead never wanted to lash out at someone more. The deity pulled out two folders from his jacket, leafing through one with apparent guilt, and he delivered the words Yata had been dreading. “According to your file, you are ineligible for return from the afterlife. Yata-kun, it pains me to say it, but you will be traveling alone.”

Alone.

The words hit him cruelly, stealing the warmth from his chest and the clarity from his mind. Saruhiko wasn’t coming with him.

Saruhiko…

Yata snapped. “N-no! No, that’s not right, you can’t do this!” Yata screamed at Munakata, face flushed, but a sullen frown was all that was offered him. He clawed at his face from the frustration, drowning in his own denial as his knuckles turned white from fisting in his hair. “Fuck!” The singular word was pathetic, drenched in weakness as he struggled to breath.

“Misaki.”

The soft voice was what grounded him, the lost quality of it making him want to lead the source to safety. Yata’s body whipped around, and he turned his full attention to Saruhiko, who was staring at the ground aimlessly.

It was too reminiscent of how he had looked in the tomb, broken, unwilling to move, and Yata wanted nothing more than to shake him out of it. Tell him he could keep going…

But they were at the end, and there truly was nowhere else to go.

Yata flew to him, barely keeping them both from falling over, and buried his face in Saruhiko’s neck. “I’m sorry…Saru I’m so—I…” I wish I could fix this. “Don’t…”

Don’t leave me. Huh, how funny the demand was, when Yata was the one leaving.

The tears spilled anew.

“I failed,” Saruhiko lamented, the tone too much for Yata to take. “It had…nothing to do with you.”

“I don’t care!” Goddamnit! You don’t get it! “You…you’re supposed to come with me, and we’ll play video games and go on d-dates like normal people and go to the stupid wedding rehearsal, and…and…”

And go to the bar.

See movies.

Get an apartment.

Be there for each other.

Grow old properly.

“I know,” Saruhiko faltered, arms hesitantly coming up to grip Yata’s sleeves, hands clenching furiously in the tattered fabric. “But I can’t.”

“I can’t.”

The small admission, which begged forgiveness all on its own, broke the last of Yata’s hope, and he pulled Saruhiko closer, until the space between them was nonexistent, as it always should be.

“I’ll miss you. So much,” Yata stuttered, and his teeth drew blood from his bottom lip, barely containing another outburst. He felt like there was so much left to tell the other, but those words…those were the most important in that moment. “Saruhiko I…” I won’t forget you, so you’d better not forget me.

“Yeah,” Saruhiko barely managed to stammer, inhaling Yata’s scent one last time, arms falling to his sides to hold Yata’s hands in his, savoring the feeling. “Me too.”

For Yata, it was unfair on so many levels, the anguish tearing him apart without mercy. It was how it was though, wasn’t it? There was no stopping it. He had to—

“Misaki…you should…” Saruhiko’s voice croaked pathetically, like the words were some of the hardest for him to say. Maybe they were, from the way Saruhiko had learned to cling to things. The taller probably thought it was foolish, and the possibility made Yata want to hug him all over again, envelop him in warmth and tell him it wasn’t true. It was okay to grieve, if he wanted to. But what proof was there? Yata was leaving, alone, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Saruhiko gave one last weak squeeze to Yata’s hand. “You should go.”

It’s time, being the hidden meaning. Yata could’ve never imagined being given the gift of life would leave such a bad taste in his mouth, would make him hesitate. He’d been gone so long, he missed everyone greatly, but without Saruhiko, could he really consider the journey back a success? The answer was a resounding no.

And yet, he would have to shoulder the weight of it, until death came for him again.

“Yes,” Munakata said, finally stepping towards them and pulling out Yata’s folder. “I believe the hour of your departure is finally upon us, whenever you’re ready of course.”

The feeling of Saruhiko’s hand slipping out of his made his shoulders slump, and it became harder to swallow. After cherishing the connection for so long, losing it was as if part of him was being clipped away. Whenever he was ready? How was he supposed to respond to that? He had no more words left in him which mattered. Yet he knew when he returned home he’d regret the thought, because there’d always be more he’d want to tell Saruhiko, always more he wished he’d said.

“I think I love you.” Well, at least he’d had the guts to admit it.

Instead of speaking, he nodded stiffly, shudders wracking his frame as Saruhiko’s glassy eyes stared after him, tired, a husk of the brave man Yata had stood by on the journey.

Yata stood in the center of the room, fixing Munakata with a reluctant stare, because looking at anything other than Saruhiko at that moment felt like a mistake, and waited.

The ground beneath him shook, but he paid no mind to it, one thought crossing his mind as he saw Saruhiko sink to the ground at last, defeated.

Goodbye.

The words were in his head, but they weren’t right, and he refused to say them, only watching with agony as the image of Saruhiko faded before him, alluding him for a long time to come.

“Yata Misaki. Age twenty-one, born on July 20th. Returned on the evening of August 14th.”

--

--

“He doesn’t move.” It wasn’t one of Munakata’s usual observations, the ones said with slight wonder and amusement. It was a cold fact, devoid of everything except pity.

“He doesn’t,” Mikoto repeated, and Munakata could hear the silent ‘of course he won’t’ added into the mix. He didn’t feel the need to comment on it. After all, he understood, though he’d never personally coped with his own circumstances in such a way. When he’d been robbed of his life, his potential, he peeled back the grief to find opportunity. He’d made a new role for himself, embraced the duties which came with looking after mankind.

But Fushimi, his story was different.

The young man in question shifted in his spot on the floor, a rare disturbance to the stillness he’d been displaying over the past six months. All of time was like a flowing stream to Munakata, to all those like him. It changed and passed quickly, the years and decades rushing together. How long did it feel for Fushimi, he wondered, those six months since Yata Misaki’s departure.

He took one tentative step forward on the clean tile, his shoes making a distinct slick in the empty meeting room as he approached the pool, watching as Fushimi sunk further against the wall in hell’s throne room.

No changes, no words. What would it take to instill within Fushimi the same drive Munakata himself had adopted upon finding himself in the afterlife?

He raised his hand, moving as if to summon a portal. Surely, in time Fushimi would—

“Don’t.”

The gruff voice froze him mid-step, and Munakata was honestly shocked, which was rare. He’d known Mikoto long before their death, and while he could be reckless and impulsive, Munakata had grown to anticipate many of his actions. Well, at least before Fushimi and Yata had showed up. It seemed as if both of the young men had thrown them both through a loop.

Never in all my centuries…

“Don’t? And why is that?” Munakata replied without turning to face his partner.

“You’ve tried already,” Mikoto said, and Munakata could hear him as he rose from his chair, loud footsteps echoing in the silence. “He didn’t want to listen.”

At that, Munakata actually graced him with eye contact, turning with a questioning arch of his brow. Mikoto hadn’t said anything about Fushimi since the other had fallen into despair, and Munakata figured he simply hadn’t wanted to bother concerning himself with another lost soul, since it was Munakata’s job after all. Fushimi had never shown any particular fondness for Mikoto, quite the opposite, and the two seemed to be at a standstill when it came to conversation. He’d figured most of Mikoto’s favor was with Yata, someone more suited to his values. But apparently, that wasn’t the complete case.

Mikoto was correct too of course, though Munakata was not pleased with the knowledge or outcome of his efforts. Fushimi had refused him many times in the past few months, every word of advice or solace seemed to travel into one ear and out the other. Munakata had finally relented, realizing the situation was one Fushimi would need to come to terms with on his own.

Though now, Munakata was questioning if he ever would.

He lowered his hand, gripping his cane as he reasoned aloud. “Perhaps you’re right. Leaving him be is—”

“Lemme talk to ‘im.”

“Pardon?”

Mikoto was beside him now, looking into the pool with an unnatural calmness, and the genuine emotion shining in his eyes had Munakata aghast. It wasn’t normal for Mikoto to exchange pleasantries with anyone, even he and Munakata would seldom talk for long periods of time, but in these circumstances, it was completely out of character. Not to mention, it wasn’t the most practical idea given Fushimi’s obvious dislike of him, and reluctance to comply.

“What makes you believe he will talk to you and not me? It’s obvious he never took a shine to your presence,” Munakata informed, trying not to let any of his shock bleed into his voice.

What was Mikoto thinking now? Surely it couldn’t be good, and Munakata would certainly be able to deduce such given the other’s elaboration.

And of course, Mikoto ignored his question completely. “He won’t ever wanna be here Munakata, not now. He’s not you.”

He’s not you.

Munakata could’ve countered the statement in many ways, could’ve said that he certainly knew that, it was obvious. Could’ve supplied how Fushimi’s thought process complimented his in many ways regardless of that, or how Fushimi was going through a hard transition period and that was it. It all would’ve worked, would’ve been an appropriate response had anyone else said it, with no hidden meaning or need for context.

But they didn’t work. They would never work, because Munakata knew Mikoto. He knew what the words truly meant.

He’ll never adjust. He’ll never be satisfied being here, when he’d so much rather be there. Nothing you say or hope for will change that.

He wants to live.

Life, Munakata thought, how badly had he ever wanted that? Certainly not as much as Fushimi, certainly not as much as Mikoto, who had both tried to get it back tirelessly. That was what he’d misunderstood. The solemn weight of the realization was harsher than he cared for. After all, if Fushimi never adjusted, he’d sit there, on the floor, for all of eternity. Someone with so much potential…wasted.

But…

There was a sudden spark in his mind, a curiosity about the partner beside him. What would Mikoto accomplish, talking to Fushimi?

The pool rippled beneath them, the young man in it remained unmoving, and for Munakata, it was less than tolerable.

He sighed finally, evaporating the tension between them, and finally turned to fully face the other. He only had one more question. Even if he will never be like me… “I doubt he is like you either. What can you possibly offer?”

Mikoto’s shoulder blades shook slightly, the apparent amusement in the air grating on Munakata’s nerves, like he’d somehow yet to acknowledge the obvious. Or maybe he was hesitant to.

Mikoto reached up, tugging at his old ear piercing, the last connection he chose to have with Totsuka Tatara, even though he resided within Mikoto’s own domain. Totsuka, who Mikoto had foolishly attempted and failed the Return for.

Munakata remembered. Mikoto had fallen into grief shortly after, deaf to Munakata’s chidings about how he’d surely see Totsuka again, how the younger boy would forgive his broken promises, how he’d move on. It had all seemed so pointless to him at the time, Mikoto’s rage over the loss of life when he had the chance to make more of himself in heaven, watching over souls of the dead and knowing the secrets of the universe.

At one time, he’d probably called it selfish, not realizing that it was love instead.

The desperation for return, the guilt of failure, Munakata knew none of it. What Munakata had desired all those centuries ago, it had meant nothing to Mikoto, when compared to a life with Totsuka.

To Fushimi, there was nothing worth any value, when compared to a life with those he held dear.

He backed away from the pool, relenting without waiting for Mikoto’s elaboration. He knew it already.

Understanding.

Mikoto could give that, if nothing else. How it would help Fushimi in any way, Munakata did not know, but at this point, it was worth the attempt. He nodded to Mikoto, a reaffirmation of his trust in the other man, and waited. “I do hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Mm, I do.”

And with his final inkling of dread quelled, Munakata opened the portal.

--

“What do you want?”

Munakata nearly startled; he hadn’t heard Fushimi’s voice in such a long time, and it wasn’t even addressing him. Mikoto still stood in the meeting room, facing Fushimi but unable to enter the space of hell, and Munakata had chosen to make himself scarce from view. While he did like being there for Fushimi, something told him whatever Mikoto had in mind would work best with just the two of them.

It didn’t quell his skepticism.

Fushimi’s eyes had quivered upon seeing Mikoto through the portal, and while fear was not the emotion Munakata would’ve preferred from the other, he was glad there was something.

Mikoto shrugged his shoulders, and Munakata watched from the pool as Fushimi’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Just to talk.”

“No thanks, goodbye.” Fushimi huddled in on himself, trying his very best to meld into the wall behind him.

But Mikoto didn’t budge, stayed put and going as far as to kneel to the other’s level, in a very subtle pressuring gesture. It was a tactic Munakata would not have tried, and was surprised Mikoto had as well. Pushing, regardless of different reasons for it, was not something either of them liked to do.

It had the desired effect though, because while Fushimi may have simply ignored anyone else for ages, it was obvious Mikoto’s presence was making him uncomfortable. The young man began to fidget, the most movement Munakata had seen from him in a while, until it was impossible for him to completely avoid Mikoto’s searing golden stare. The air between them was frozen, heavy in a way which was too unsettling given the amicable reasons for the visit. What was Mikoto doing? Munakata was about to step in, displeased with the caged animal routine; such things were an insult to all Fushimi had gone through, there was no point to thi--

Fushimi snarled, voice as loud as he would allow it in his exhausted state. “What? What do you want? Munakata has said enough, there’s no need for you to come and half ass the same words.”

“You’ve given up,” Mikoto continues, undisturbed by the outburst, and Fushimi flinched notably.

“No shit, there’s not much left to do.” Fushimi was wary, Munakata could sense it, and well, he couldn’t blame him. From the conversation alone and on its face, it sounded very much like Mikoto was trying to provoke him somehow, reminding him of his faults and pitiful situation. But Mikoto was not cruel.

“That’s not like you.”

“The hell do you know about me?” Fushimi spat, his tone laced with venom and helplessness, as if it was the first day all over again, when he’d fallen to his knees in desperation, loss… “I tried, I tried way more than I ever have or should have, and it wasn’t enough.”

Mikoto didn’t back down, undeterred, and Munakata watched as Fushimi opened up, no matter how upset. Surely this couldn’t solve all his problems, whatever Mikoto’s aim was. Though now, Munakata had a vague idea of his partner’s goal. Fushimi was right, there wasn’t anything left to do, but Mikoto understood the frustration which came along with that. Instead of trying to get him to move on like Munakata had, perhaps it was Mikoto’s goal to help Fushimi bear the experience, to function despite never being able to rid himself of it.

Still, something in Munakata’s mind questioned that as well.

Mikoto continued, calm as ever, refusing to move away from the shaking man across from him. “I read your file, saw you during the Return. You’re sposed to like problem solving, finding other ways—”

“I failed the other way! Or were you not there? There’s nothing left to do, so go away! I’m sure you know what that’s like huh? Not being able to get it right...” Fushimi’s voice did its best to sound cruel, but it quivered with suppressed emotions, the words rushed and barely audible.

The image of Mikoto, defeated and wounded, flashed in Munakata’s mind, along with memories of a life he’d happily left behind.

He does, he knows all too well.

The silence between them fell once more, and even Munakata was worried Fushimi had hit a sore spot for his partner. It had been so long since Mikoto’s attempt at Return, since Totsuka, but Munakata knew deep down Mikoto never stopped thinking about it, would always feel guilty for not succeeding. Even now, with Totsuka available to him whenever he wished, Mikoto stayed away, showing a cowardice and commitment which Munakata had never thought possible from him. He and Mikoto would not oversee the afterlife forever, their job wasn’t permanent, though their post was grueling and they were tethered to it for centuries. But it would come to an end, their reign, and they’d be allowed to retire to heaven as new beings took over, occasionally training the newcomers in the ways of the job. Munakata always wondered if Mikoto was waiting for that time, to finally speak with his beloved again…

“I don’t wanna see him, until I can be with him forever.”

That was what Mikoto had told him, all those centuries ago. As if every moment mattered.

“You’re right,” Mikoto said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “I did. I wanted to be with the person I left behind, and when I couldn’t, I gave up, just like you.”

Of course, you had no choice. Giving up was the sole option, I tried to tell you, all that time ago.

It was only when Mikoto had finally listened and picked himself up that his mood had improved, he’d begun to speak again, engage with Munakata and the other deities. It’s what Munakata wanted for Fushimi, movement, speech, some form of acceptance.

But he’s in hell, forced to live in it. You have unlimited knowledge and omnipotence. It is not the same.

Yes, Mikoto was right. Munakata didn’t fully understand Fushimi’s despair, never would. But neither would Mikoto, sitting on heaven’s throne. It didn’t matter what hardships the two knew of and shared. Fushimi was another soul, sadly lost to hell’s barren landscape.

Munakata moved forward, set on pulling Mikoto away, when a sound cut through the air. Fushimi exhaled a loud, shaky breath, huffing in forced amusement, repeating words Munakata had already come to acknowledge despite himself. “See then? I get it. You’re telling me I should try to cope with it, well I won’t, so you can—”

What he hadn’t expected, was Mikoto’s response.

“No, don’t cope with it. I wish I hadn’t. I was dealing with myself so much that by the time I thought of somethin’ else, he was dead. It was too late, I let him down. You don’t have to let your people down.” Mikoto smiled serenely at the floor as he rose up, leaving a gaping Fushimi in his wake. Munakata was no less shocked. It was a familiar sign, watching Mikoto stuff his hands into his pockets, one which often told Munakata of his partner’s finality, his boredom. Mikoto was finished, he’d said what he’d wanted, and it had done no one any good.

What had been the point? Fushimi didn’t need to feel worse about the situation, was Mikoto giving him permission to wallow in self-pity forever? A conversation was not needed for such a thing.

So why…

“You’re smart.” Mikoto said with a shrug as the portal began to close, gruff but loud enough for Fushimi to still hear, facing away as he walked back to his worn out chair. “Think about your problem, figure it out.”

The portal closed with a slash just as Mikoto was getting settled, and Munakata was at a loss for words, unable to yell or object as those golden eyes closed in certainty, feigning sleep.

--

Saruhiko sat stunned on the filthy cement beneath him, his eyes never leaving the spot Mikoto had occupied. He couldn’t pinpoint how he was feeling, but could recognize it wasn’t the usual emptiness he’d been cultivating. He hated it.

He was frustrated, enraged, and even more humiliated than before, the familiar surges of desperation pulling at his heartstrings. They were all back again, the grief, the resentment, and for what? So Mikoto could dangle a lost dream in front of his face? So he could rub it in? Or was it really necessary to restate obvious facts? Or maybe it truly was unfair, a way to say ‘ha, you’re like me now, but not really, because you’re stuck here and I’m not.’ What a fucking waste of time. Saruhiko wasn’t a stranger to cruelty, not by a long shot, but to think he couldn’t be spared now of all times, in his pathetic state, was a good kick in the ribs.

Figure it out? Figure what out?

Pointless. Munakata had tried already, to make him see other ways of making himself useful. Munakata had actually pardoned him of hell’s true nature, of having to live out his personal one like all the other lost souls, if only because the devil was weirdly fond of him. Or maybe because it wouldn’t matter, nothing could be worse than what he’d already done. Munakata had instead let him waste away here on the floor, trying to speak with him and offer him insight into the secrets of mankind. He wanted none of it.

There was nothing to figure out. He knew what he wanted, and he couldn’t have it. So, he would sit there, for all of eternity, until he lost his mind.

Saruhiko’s sole comfort through all of it, was knowing Misaki had made it out. Misaki would be someone, would make the life he wanted. Saruhiko wasn’t as bitter as he would have expected, but then again, he had changed a bit. Part of him ached sure, always asking why he hadn’t been enough, why Misaki had to go without him. But no, he’d always push those thoughts away the second they entered his mind. The last thing he would want was Misaki here, seeing him in this wretched state.

Saruhiko couldn’t help but laugh, devoid of any real amusement. Figure it out, sure. The rules of the Return had never allowed for any autonomy, not truly. It decided every trial, made its judgements without mercy. The rules were still clear though, nothing to work through or around, damning whoever was foolish enough to take up the task.

It was strange to remember now, his initial reluctance, and Misaki’s overbearing enthusiasm as Munakata coaxed them into the journey he was unable to regret, no matter how futile it had been. As if wishing to torture himself more, Saruhiko dully recited each rule to himself, noting the simplicity with clenched fists as he whispered each one into the stale air.

1. The Return is a journey. A dangerous one, and it never gets easier, no matter how many people attempt it.

He remembered reciting the contract, Misaki’s hand on his as they promised to endure it together. He recalled Munakata’s chilling words, about how no one had ever succeeded, how the closest person had collapsed just before reaching the gates. Well, guess there was one person now at least.

2. The route of the journey changes every time, it is impossible to predict what’s on it.

The changing landscape, the buildings and structures which would simply disappear along with doorways to caves and deserts.

3. If you fail, you are automatically sorted into hell by default.

Saruhiko glanced at his surroundings, the torn tapestries and distant screams painting a grim picture. He heard Totsuka’s voice, reminding him how those in hell were not allowed to see their loved ones, to watch over them…

And then there was Munakata’s, pitiful and apologetic as Saruhiko was forced to separate from Misaki. “Hell is not the same for everyone, it takes one’s worst fears, and makes them live it for eternity.” Little did he know that sparing Saruhiko, allowing him to sit there alone in his own misfortune, was basically the same thing.

4. Once you begin the journey, there is no turning back.

The stairway from heaven, and the door with the writing, warning him of a fate worse than death itself. Misaki had tolerated none of it though, determination fierce as ever.

"As if something like that is gonna stop me anyways."

In the end, he’d been right.

5. There are no guidelines, but it is wise to stay on the path at all times.

He hadn’t. Misaki had been right there alongside him, pulling him in the right direction, while Saruhiko did the same for him. Saruhiko wouldn’t let go of Misaki’s hand for anything, something which had started out as a fear of separation had quickly morphed into a simple yearning for the touch. It backfired regardless though, hadn’t it?

6. The journey ends, truly ends, upon touching hell’s gates. Then you are evaluated.

And that was all.

There was no secret, no real place he could call foul and reverse his judgement. He’d done what was asked, put his trust into a system which promised him nothing, and had been rejected.

Do the journey. Stay on the path. Touch the gates. Receive judgement.

Right. Fucking right.

Saruhiko felt his shoulders start to shake, whether from sobs or anger he didn’t know. Damn Mikoto, putting the thoughts in his head. Perhaps this was true suffering after all, the mocking rules echoing in his head forever as he laid on the floor, a broken slump.

When the side of his face touched the cold cement of the ground, he didn’t notice. Didn’t care.

Do the journey. Stay on the path. Touch the gates. Receive judgement.

Do the journey. Stay on the path. Touch the gates. Receive judgement.

Do the journey. Stay on the path. Touch the gates. Receive judgement.

Do the journey.

Stay on the path.

Touch the gates.

Receive judgement.

Do the…

Saruhiko’s eyes shot open, his body lurching in on itself as his throat closed up.

It all stopped, as if he was experiencing death over again, the suddenness of the realization too heavy, too painfully obvious.

There was no way though. It couldn’t be…

Figure it out, he’d said.

Problem solving.

Another way.

Do the journey. Stay on the path. Touch the gates. Receive judgement.

Saruhiko felt bumps rise on his skin as he propped himself up on his elbows, the hard cement digging in without forgiveness. All the while, he felt none of it, the rules hammering away at his psyche, now with less mockery, and more insight. All along…

Those are the only rules. There’s no more. There’s no restriction for—

“Damn it,” Saruhiko whispered, the two syllables slicing through the air, eliminating any other unnecessary sound for him to process. Damn it all.

“I was dealing with myself so much that by the time I thought of somethin’ else, he was dead.”

Something else, of course. Maybe Saruhiko hadn’t completely rid himself of his selfish tendencies after all. To not realize the clear answer. It was impossible though. Wasn’t it? The solution was too much, too difficult, it couldn’t be do—

“Who the fuck cares? There’s a chance we’ll live again! Isn’t that enough?”

“C’mon! Don’t you have anyone you miss? Or that misses you?”

“I think I love you, Saruhiko.”

No. It could most definitely be done. He’d make sure of it.

Saruhiko knew where he belonged, and it wasn’t here. Not yet. The fact that an angel—Mikoto of all people, had finally made him realize he should change things, only managed to settle in his stomach with mild discomfort.

Saruhiko supposed he could call them even. He didn’t have time to be petty about useless things, it wasn’t in his nature anymore. There was a lot to be done, and while he had time, he couldn’t get started fast enough. For the first time in months, he rose to his feet, his legs trembling from the sudden movement and adrenaline running through him.

He stretched out his muscles, ignoring the uncertainties threatening to run in his brain, deeming them worthless. He thought of Misaki, his home, and it weighed out whatever doubt lingered. Saruhiko was sure it would come back, it always did, was sure his strength would stutter every now and again, but for now, he used every ounce of determination to propel himself forward to the center of the throne room.

Saruhiko stared up at the ceiling, a rueful smile finding its way onto his face, and took what should have been the most obvious step from the beginning.

“Munakata, I need an audience.”

--

There was a time, a few years back, when Saruhiko would routinely find Enomoto in his house upon arriving home, crouched over in the dark, and playing some new fantasy game. Saruhiko had never known exactly how the other had gotten in, but he had the lingering suspicion Seri had given him a spare key, as if it was insurance. Should something happen to her, someone had to be around to make sure he ate enough on the days he took his work home, holing himself up in the solitude he sometimes required.

He had grumbled about it constantly, about how unnecessary it was, but he never made a move to collect the keys from either of them. Besides, Enomoto’s presence was hardly invasive or unpleasant, unless something was truly on his mind, and it did happen on occasion. The other would curse at the screen a lot more, or slip up doing easy side missions, or would pause the game frequently, staring into the void of the television’s artificial light while Saruhiko clicked away on his laptop from the couch.

Saruhiko was not so good in those moments, and always felt there was something going unsaid. But, Enomoto never treated Saruhiko liked a therapist or someone to unload his problems on. If anything, Saruhiko now realized the other probably just wanted the company, while his mind navigated the storm of his emotions. Fine by him. If sitting on the uncleaned floor with a shoddy blanket and playing video games until midnight was helpful to him, Saruhiko wouldn’t complain. It wasn’t like it was inconvenient to him, or so he’d reasoned back then.

And so, one particular month, Enomoto happened to be stuck on what Saruhiko guessed was a difficult section of the game, and would not stop invading his apartment. Apparently, it was common knowledge Saruhiko had the best television out of them all. How nice.

So of course, Saruhiko had stayed too late again at the office, typing away until Hidaka had to physically threaten him to leave, and entered the living room to see the older boy there on the wood, wrapped in a blanket with his controller held tightly in his hand…

Saruhiko toed off his boots, the rain from outside echoing into his apartment before it was drowned out by the sound effects blaring from his living room.

Ah, he’s here. Fine. Only if he turns it down.

As if already knowing, the volume decreased, but Enomoto didn’t glance his way, his smoky eyes too engrossed with the boss who was making quick work of his health bar.

Oh well, it wasn’t like Saruhiko particularly cared. This was what Enomoto did, came and played his game, the silence between them comfortable, if not a bit unsettling depending on Enomoto’s mood. And then the other would leave, feeling better or the same, smile on his face and a chipper goodbye which Saruhiko half replied to, if that.

So, Saruhiko did as he always did. He ditched the notion of a greeting, and sat himself on the couch, solely concerned with the document left open on his computer as he flipped it open. This was the routine, how things normally went.

Except, there were two people involved in this situation, and one of them actually felt like breaking the mold.

For the first time, Enomoto's quiet voice filled the room, causing Saruhiko's fingers to halt in their typing from the sheer rareness of it. "Say Fushimi-san...have you ever been in a relationship?"

As he spoke, his character on the screen fell over in a bloodied mess, dead.

Saruhiko resisted the urge to scoff, choosing to roll his eyes instead. It wasn't like Enomoto could see him anyhow. "No, of course not." I don't have time for things like that.

Relationships were pointless distractions, and they seldom worked out. Saruhiko had seen many marriages and partnerships crumble over the littlest things, or from the general inability to withstand the test of time. Honestly, it was too much of an investment with no guarantee of return, and he had enough to worry about. There was no room to worry about someone else, and why should he? It wasn't his responsibility. Relationships were never fair or equal, and they lacked any real reason, surviving on impulses and emotions alone. All in all, they weren't something he concerned himself with, or had any desire to. "They're worthless."

Enomoto's shoulders deflated at the words, a small 'oh' leaving his lips as he mindlessly pressed a button on the controller, starting the mission over again. Come to think of it, it was fairly late for him to be attempting it again. Enomoto was usually gone by then, eager to get home and spend time with his boyfriend, a thought which was less than pleasing to Saruhiko himself. But whatever, it cleared his apartment faster.

Enomoto remained though, and Saruhiko stared up at the ceiling in thought, picturing the dark office with just three desk lamps still remaining turned on. The only other people at the office had been Fuse and Hidaka, and the former hadn't been in the best of moods, posture dreary and work ethic minimal. It was the opposite of usual, and Saruhiko realized that it was most likely the same reason Enomoto was sitting in his apartment late at night, unwilling to go home. Plus come to think of it, the two had hardly glanced at one of another during the briefing that morning.

Problems with Fuse...

Well, if Enomoto expected Saruhiko's help with anything concerning his relationship, he would be disappointed. Saruhiko had no wisdom to offer, and even if he did, since when was he the resident therapist? Saruhiko had better, more pressing things to do than comfort Enomoto. If the relationship was really so much trouble, he should solve it himself or ditch it completely.

Something in his stomach stirred in protest at the thought of his two coworkers breaking up, but he didn't understand it or care to explore it, so he pushed it down as quickly as it came.

"You know..." Enomoto said, more to the darkness than Saruhiko, his character doing his best to dodge a monster's attacks on the screen. "I love this game. I play it all the time."

The subject change was odd, but no less unwelcome, and again, Saruhiko had to give up typing mid-sentence. The words did somewhat peak his interest though. Had the other played this one before? Surely Saruhiko would've remembered, but looking back, he had seldom paid attention to Enomoto's newest obsessions, or the games he repeatedly played.

"Oh," he merely said, hoping the silence would return after that. If Enomoto wanted to talk about video games, he should've chatted with his online friends, not pester Saruhiko.

"I know it so well, and it's always a lot of fun," Enomoto continued, unperturbed by Saruhiko's general disinterest. "I couldn't imagine having not played it you know? But...even though it's usually great, some parts of it are still really tough to get through, and I get frustrated and have to walk away for a while."

Usually, Saruhiko would filter the conversation out, as useless as it was, but the slight waver in Enomoto's voice was his indication of something hidden beneath the surface, and he picked up on it enough to deduce that Enomoto was not talking about video games.

Saruhiko sighed, massaging his temples. Ah, so it was about Fuse still. How nice. Weird metaphors and emotional pain aside, Saruhiko also didn't do relationships for the simple fact that they made no sense whatsoever. To enjoy something which causes so many issues was idiotic, at best.

There was probably no stopping Enomoto from continuing with his own logic however, but Saruhiko hoped it would be over soon.

But no, of course he wouldn't be that fortunate. Enomoto turned around, pausing the game, his dark eyes peering shyly into Saruhiko's. "But...sometimes I'm not sure I guess..."

It was an invitation to insert advice, advice Saruhiko didn't have and didn't want to give. Really, if he wanted things to end faster, Saruhiko could tell him to not waste his time, to put the game away forever, or so to speak. However, something in him didn't sit right with that option, his stomach churning in distaste at the harshness he deliberated on delivering. What it was he wasn't sure, but he was in no mood to challenge his body's natural reaction to things, so he analyzed it from a different angle.

Well, if it was simply a video game they were talking about, what would Saruhiko do in that situation?

"I guess if you actually did want to finish the game, you'd either have to walk away for a time, or continue trying until you got it right," he said, shrugging. "Those are the only two options, unless you give up all the way, which isn't wrong, but then you wasted time and money on something you never finished, which is annoying." Saruhiko clicked his tongue, deciding to end the conversation himself by ruthlessly typing on his laptop. He had to finish this report. "Besides, if you're stupid enough to get stuck on the same game all the time without finding a way out, you probably shouldn't complain about the game in the first place. You're obviously not very good at it, or you aren't used to it. You haven't played it enough, so either play it more or stop whining about it." As he finished, he pressed the enter button on his laptop, saving his work as quiet descended upon his apartment once more. Much better.

One report done, eight more to go.

Enomoto hadn't moved from staring at him, Saruhiko could sense his eyes, but the silence was back, and he took the opportunity to move along, not worrying about any lack of sensitivity his words may have carried. Enomoto had asked, it wasn't his fault he had offered up an opinion.

Saruhiko figured he must've upset the older man significantly, if the thick air was any indication, but he ignored his own racing heart and clammy palms, signs of what he figured was guilt. Again, irritating. All he wanted to do was--

Enomoto's laughter broke through the silence, and Saruhiko's head jerked up in his direction, caught off guard by the other's beaming smile of unreserved happiness, the slight evidence of tears shining in his olive eyes.

What...

The laughter subsided, giving way to short, breathless giggles as Enomoto struggled to speak. "Y-you're right Fushimi-san, absolutely right!" Enomoto fell over with a thud against the hardwood, but it didn't stop his joy, nor Saruhiko's utter irritation.

Vaguely, Saruhiko noted how in his struggle, Enomoto had accidentally pressed another button on the controller, taking him to his menu of past achievements, where countless trophies sat.

Somehow, it just added to his frustration.

But Saruhiko made no move to interrupt the other, letting him slowly collect himself and get off the floor. Why he hadn't kicked the other out already, he wasn't sure.

After a while, Enomoto’s laughter became nothing but heavy breathing, and he managed to pick himself up, staring at the game menu with a new, relaxed ease, as if the tension from before had been an illusion.

The silence between them now, though comfortable and without pressure, managed to unnerve Saruhiko, and he wondered if he’d ever win, wanting silence but not wanting to deal with the emotions it could hold.

“You know what Fushimi-san,” Enomoto whispered finally, smiling softly as he clicked off the game console. Saruhiko flipped on the lamp beside the couch as darkness enveloped them, watching as the dimness illuminated the older man as he stood up and began to collect his things. There was a strange familiarity in his movements as he put things back in their rightful places, and Saruhiko wondered if it was a nice feeling itching at his skin, knowing his coworker spent so much time there that he knew the ins and outs. “I think I’m gonna head home, I’m sure Fuse would appreciate it if I was waiting for him. We have stuff to talk about anyways, I’m tired of avoiding it.” The way he said it was confident, with renewed energy and a fondness far too intimate for Saruhiko to feel okay with.

Enomoto stood, leaving Saruhiko frozen in confusion on the couch as he toed on his boots, sending one last, genuine grin his way. “Besides, I should spend less time feeling bad about stuff I did wrong, and more time on what I can do better the next time. Then it won’t be so scary right? Even though I always fear the worst, if I keep trying, I’ll mess up less…” Enomoto bit his lip then, seemingly conflicted about his words, before shrugging, and opening the door to allow the nighttime chill to seep in. “You should be less afraid too Fushimi-san, we’d all like it if you were. Thank you for your help, goodnight!”

Saruhiko had no response to that, could barely keep up with the dramatic turn Enomoto had taken, but he did manage to glare at the doorway as Enomoto left, calling back his jovial ‘goodnight’ and leaving Saruhiko alone in the darkness.

It was…strange, how much he’d gotten used to the sound of gaming effects as background noise. The silence almost seemed unnatural then, but he chose to focus on what Enomoto had said instead, albeit with displeasure.

Saruhiko hadn’t meant for his advice, if it could be called that, to be twisted in such a hopeful light. He was being logical, but Enomoto had treated it like some life philosophy which Saruhiko had no interest in. If anything, he hoped it would resolve Enomoto’s relationship issues so they wouldn’t have to have a similar conversation ever again. How had Enomoto even drawn such conclusions? How any of that night had made sense to the other, he didn’t know, but at least the older man was out of his apartment.

Somehow though, the conversation wouldn’t leave him, and he found himself working slowly for the next hour, rewriting sentences and fidgeting, which did nothing but frustrate him to no end. Eventually, he made for his room, where no doubt a sleepless night awaited him.

“Besides, I should spend less time feeling bad about stuff I did wrong, and more time on what I can do better the next time. Then it won’t be so scary right?

Saruhiko shook his head violently as he put his laptop away, the words echoing in his head, but not quite hitting home…

It was funny how much things made more sense down the road.

Now, all this time later, Saruhiko inhaled steadily as he strode into the meeting room. He ignored Mikoto’s knowing stare, the weird satisfaction laced in it, as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along. Saruhiko moved to cross his arms, to ease his trembling body, to find he was still as a statue, his very being already prepared for what was to come.

He straightened his back, meeting Munakata’s stare with fierce determination.

“You said at the beginning that you didn’t know much about the Return,” Saruhiko said calmly, the most secure he’d heard his voice in a while, the cloudiness over his conscious slipping away. Munakata was notably startled, and it must’ve been a sight.

Saruhiko, a failure, who had done nothing but sit on his ass for months, feelings sorry for himself…

Well, Munakata obviously didn’t realize that a large chunk of Saruhiko’s life was a good analogy to that, at least in his own head. Only now was he realizing how wrong that could possibly be. But regardless of his own perceptions, the time for sitting back was over. “You said the only rules were to stay on the path, complete the trials, and touch the gates of hell. Those are the only requirements, right?”

Saruhiko already knew the answer, felt quite proud of himself despite the initially unwanted help he’d received, but he wanted the validation, the certainty. He wanted to know he wasn’t just dreaming it all up in some sick bout of desperation.

Munakata’s stiff limbs relaxed, a weird uneasiness filling the room, and Saruhiko could pinpoint the exact moment Munakata caught on. Mikoto must’ve too, from the way he grunted in satisfaction.

Saruhiko understood it wasn’t Munakata’s preferred alternative, from the way his eyes flashed in pity, but for Saruhiko, it was the option which made the most sense.

Munakata nodded, once, and it was all that was necessary.

There are no other rules.

Nothing to stop him. His hands clenched at his sides, ready for a second fight after all the healing he’d gone through. Glad all of him was on the same page, for the first time.

“So then,” he began, the words echoing in his mind before he spoke them fully. “There’s nothing to stop me from trying it again.”

And from the way Munakata’s eyes widened, and the way Mikoto smiled, he knew it was the right way to go.

[emeraldwaves]

Title: Don’t Look Down DJ AU Chapter 11 (Read from beginning Here or Here) Pairing: Sarumi Rating: M Word Count:  7,016 AO3 Summary: When Fushimi Saruhiko is dragged to a club by some of his co-workers, he refuses to dance, earning him the attention of the lively, up-and-coming DJ, Yata Misaki. After a heated argument, the boys go their separate ways, never expecting to meet again. Little do they know their first meeting is only the beginning of their now intertwined lives.

Full Fic Under Cut. Thank you to @its-love-u-asshole for betaing!

Misaki tapped at the soundboard, his fingers twitching against the knobs. He still hadn't quite decided how he wanted to add to Mikoto's song, though they had a meeting tomorrow. After Saruhiko had left, they had decided Totsuka would sing the entire song, and while Misaki was ecstatic to be working with him and Mikoto, he was feeling a bit lost without Saruhiko. Stupid idiot.

He had tried to plan out the way he was going to execute his ideas for the song, but every time he thought about anything, it was Saruhiko's voice he heard buried in the track. It was frustrating, especially since he and Saruhiko hadn't talked since the fight in the office.

A week had gone by, and Misaki wasn't sure how to go about texting him. It was usually him who initiated things, which currently was adding to his frustrations. Saruhiko liked him, right? Misaki figured that was a fair assumption based on the activities they had participated in together. Hell, Saruhiko had initiated a few kisses, and he'd been the one to ask Misaki back to his place the other night after the concert.

He let out a large groan, and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. Idiot Saruhiko. Picking up his phone, Misaki twirled it around in his palm. He probably wouldn't answer even if Misaki did text him.

The fight hadn't made much sense. Saruhiko said he didn't want to sing, but then he got angry when Misaki had agreed to produce a song with Mikoto. He knew how long Misaki had been waiting for an opportunity like this, how much it meant to him. Saruhiko, once again, was the most confusing person Misaki had ever dealt with.

The worst part was how much it was actually affecting him. This moment should've been perfect, everything Misaki wanted and more. Even if Saruhiko didn't want to sing, he could've at least been supportive, or helped or...

Running his hand down his face, Misaki trilled his lips. He supposed Saruhiko didn't owe him anything. If anyone owed, it was Misaki. Saruhiko had done so much for him, and Misaki knew he hadn't done much but bug the guy. Still, he had somehow gotten the impression Saruhiko enjoyed the time they had spent together. Maybe he hadn't.

"Yata-san?" Kamamoto asked, peering inside of Misaki's room.

"Eh? Kamamoto?" he replied, whipping his head around to stare at his roommate.

"You okay? You were making all sorts of weird groaning noises..." Kamamoto muttered.

"Was I?" Misaki blushed, twisting the cord of his headphones around his fingertip.

"Are you stuck on the song again?" he asked, placing the mug full of tea down in front of him.

Misaki nodded. "I am. I feel like it should be easy! I mean I should be freaking thrilled to be writing a song with Mikoto, and it should feel amazing!" Misaki paused, staring at the tea in the mug in front of him.

"But..." Kamamoto asked, urging him to continue.

"But...I feel really stuck. I wish Saruhiko was..." he trailed off, blushing even harder.

"The one singing for you?" Kamamoto finished, deciding to piece things through himself.

"No! I mean, yes! I mean, Totsuka is amazing, and of course I'm so excited to be working with both of them."

"But it doesn't feel the same as when you and Fushimi worked together?" Kamamoto asked, and Misaki shook his head.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he stood up angrily. "I mean who the hell needs that asshole! He was such a fuckin' pain you know?!" Misaki snapped and plopped back down in the chair.

Kamamoto raised an eyebrow at Misaki who rolled his eyes. He hated when Kamamoto somehow knew everything about everything. He normally kept to himself, but when he did have something to say, it always seemed to be...stupidly intuitive. It was worse that the idiot wasn't actually saying anything now.

He ran his finger along the edge of the cup as he puffed out his cheeks. "I have my meeting with Mikoto tomorrow, and we're going to work on tweaking the song," Misaki shrugged. "I know it's going to sound awesome. I mean it's Mikoto-san...and Totsuka. It's just...Saruhiko and I have such a connection."

"Hm. Do you feel like what you're working on has something missing or somethin'?" Kamamoto asked.

Misaki bit his lip. "I guess." He groaned loudly again, and ruffled his hair. "I wish he could've just...said yes or whatever."

"I'm sure whatever you come up with will be awesome! You're always awesome!" he smiled. "Maybe you're thinking about it too much?" Kamamoto suggested.

"Yeah, yeah," Misaki grunted, waving him away. "I gotta get back to it," he mumbled, placing the headphones over his ears. Kamamoto was always stupidly positive about stuff. It was nice sometimes, but occasionally Misaki had nothing to say in response, especially when he had too much to think about.

"Okay, Yata-san," Kamamoto said quietly, closing the door behind him, though Misaki wasn't paying anymore attention to him.

Pursing his lips, he listened to the track once more, and began to make some tweaks and additions. Maybe he was thinking about it too much. Normally when he wrote music he had fun with it, or was inspired by something. However, even though Mikoto was the one who had gotten him so hype about music in general, he was struggling. Maybe he was too nervous? If Saruhiko had been here, it would've been a hell of a lot easier to write something with his voice.

He paused, tapping his keyboard as he went back and listened to their first, and now only, track together. Saruhiko's voice was so smooth, sexy even, though that thought did make Misaki blush. Misaki sighed. It had been perfect.

Pausing the track, he moved back to the new one, once again imagining how Saruhiko would sound on it. Though he supposed that wasn't all that bad. If he could hear Saruhiko on it, he could write it as though he had Saruhiko in mind, and then someone else would sing it. Nodding once to himself, he felt determination flow through his veins as he began to listen once again. He didn't need Saruhiko to be good. If Saruhiko really hated doing music so much, Misaki would move on without him.

~~

"We're thrilled to have you here." Hisui Nagare's smile was unnerving for a reason Saruhiko couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Mmm Nagare-san couldn't stop speaking of you after he saw you perform." An older man spoke up, and Saruhiko quirked his eyebrow, confused by who this man was supposed to be.

"Ah, meet my manager, Iwafune-san," Nagare said, nodding his head towards the older man.

"Yes, nice to meet you, Fushimi Saruhiko," he said, bowing his head. "I am looking forward to seeing what you can do. Of course, Yukari-san is not going to be very happy to find out you've replaced him," Iwafune chided, though Nagare simply shrugged, wheeling himself to the mixing board.

"Yukari-san will survive just fine. Plenty of DJs work with different vocalists," Nagare scoffed. "You know I'm always looking to change my sound. I want my sound to mold and change with the times and myself. I've grown as a musician, and I will still be using Yukari-san for this upcoming album. However, Fushimi-san is incredibly talented, and I would like to use him for this song," he scoffed.

"Of course, of course," Iwafune chuckled, waving his hand back and forth. "We're always looking for new talent, but Yukari does get quite defensive," he said. Both men laughed this time, and Saruhiko rolled his eyes.

He was anxious to get on with the recording. Saruhiko still wasn't completely comfortable with singing in front of others, and as much as he hated to admit it, this was the first time he'd be doing something like this without Misaki.

Perhaps in his anger he had been far too hasty. He'd called Nagare on a whim, wanting to frustrate Misaki, and what better way to do so than to record with a rival DJ. His plan had been genius, until he realized he'd actually have to record in front of someone else. He could barely sing in front of Misaki, and he'd only been able to perform at that concert because he'd felt Misaki's radiating energy behind him. Could he really do something like this without him?

Saruhiko wasn't a musician, and had never wanted to do all the things Misaki had made him do, but the truth was he'd enjoyed it. Enjoyed everything he'd done with Misaki, no matter how reluctant he had been about it. But part of the reason he had come to enjoy the experience was because Misaki had always been there. The whole journey Misaki had been there. He'd held his hand, leading him through the confusing emotions singing had brought up for him. He'd pushed Saruhiko's back, even when he had dug his heels in, and Misaki had always loved what Saruhiko did.

But then Misaki had ruined it. Saruhiko should've expected something like this to happen. As amazing as Misaki had been for him these past few months, Saruhiko knew he should never have expected it to stick around. Happiness, contentment, they were emotions which often were fleeting around Saruhiko. That's what Saruhiko should've expected, Misaki never would've lasted.

Though Saruhiko supposed Misaki hadn't exactly tossed him aside completely. He had asked him to help with that shitty song, something Saruhiko wanted nothing to do with. Beside, it had been smarter to leave now, before Misaki kicked him to the curb. It would only be a matter of time. Mikoto had noticed Misaki, which in the end, was all Misaki had wanted, Saruhiko decided.

Misaki had dreams, and he wanted nothing more than to be famous for his music. He was so hungry for success, he was willing to give up the sound which had made him so unique. A sound which Saruhiko had fallen in love with, a sound which had brought him and Misaki together. That was the kind of music Saruhiko wanted to sing—Misaki's, the sound which had made him feel confident and happy, if only for a moment.

How could Misaki have thrown all that away? Just for the chance to sing with his stupid idol? Saruhiko couldn't comprehend it, no other person had mattered so much to him. The only person who had even come close was Misaki himself, and Saruhiko couldn't watch as Misaki threw away everything Saruhiko had loved about him, simply to please that idiot Suoh Mikoto.

Frowning, Saruhiko folded his arms, trying to focus on the conversation happening between Nagare and Iwafune. They were still going on about this Yukari guy, and Saruhiko had no desire to insert himself into the talk. However, he wanted to stop thinking about Misaki. The whole point of this was to forget Misaki, move on without him, and possibly get back at him a little in the process.

"Alright," Nagare said, smiling Saruhiko's way. "I'm sure we've bored you enough with this talk of people you nothing of. Let's get you in the booth and get you set up?"

"Right," Saruhiko said, pushing himself out of the chair.

Iwafune held the door open, following Saruhiko inside as he began to adjust the mic to Saruhiko's height. He handed Saruhiko a pair of headphones, and stepped out of the booth, closing the door behind him.

Saruhiko took a deep breath, the padded walls feeling as though they were constricting around him. The booth was tiny, but it felt as though it was getting smaller and smaller the longer he let his thoughts race. Why had he done this? He should've stuck with his original plan, and never sang again. Never before had he so desperately wished to be at his stupid desk at his stupid computer job. He even missed some of the idiots who bugged him on a regular basis.

The truth was, he'd wanted to sing again, but he also hadn't wanted to do so without Misaki, and glancing at Nagare through the tiny glass window only made him more anxious.

And yet, that fact made him angry, and a battle began to rage in his thoughts. Misaki had no problem making music without him. He could imagine Misaki was probably sitting around right now, working on the song with Mikoto excitedly, being all proud of working with his idol, even if it was a shit song. So really, Saruhiko should have no problem doing this. He'd done it before, he'd moved past his fear. Even without Misaki, he could do this, even if it felt so damn wrong.

"Alright Fushimi-san!" Nagare's voice boomed in the headphones, and Saruhiko's body twitched, shocked out of his thoughts. "We're going to play you the song, and you can listen to it a few times. I've got my voice in there right now temporarily, so sing along with me, and when you feel you're ready we'll play with things. You can change whatever you like, complete musical freedom is yours," Nagare smiled.

Saruhiko simply nodded, listening as the song began to play in his headphones. Nagare wasn't a terrible singer himself, and the song was interesting. Saruhiko could recall Misaki talking about Nagare's music style, saying it was a more intense style of dance music, closer to dubstep. At the time, Saruhiko hadn't really understood what Misaki had meant, but listening now, he could get an idea. The sound was completely different from Misaki's. It was heavy, and full of a mesh of beats and tempos. There were moments where the song picked up, as though it was building to something, but instead slowed down. The electronic sounds were almost overwhelming, and it was certainly...unique, and Saruhiko wasn't sure if it was a song he would listen to, or even like.

But he wasn't doing this because he liked Nagare's music.

The song played on repeat a few more times, Saruhiko awkwardly working to pick up the changing rhythms.

"Do you have any thoughts, Fushimi-san?" Nagare asked, after Saruhiko asked to listen to the track once more.

"...It has a lot of unique...rhythms," Saruhiko muttered into the mic, not wanting to insult Nagare. His plan wouldn't work if the man kicked him out of the booth before he even sang a note.

"Good," he said. "Does it feel uncomfortable?" he asked, and Saruhiko met his gaze. His eyes held a playfulness Saruhiko didn't quite understand, must be some sort of musician quirk. He'd seen something similar in Misaki's gaze many times, but Misaki had always seemed more pure, and excited. Nagare on the other hand, looked positively pleased by his discovery of this 'unique' music style.

"...Yes," Saruhiko said bluntly.

"Good!" Nagare repeated. "As I mentioned before, I want to shape and mold the music world. Bring us into a new era of music, and I believe these kinds of tracks will do that. Art isn't supposed to be repetitive and comfortable," he explained.

Saruhiko couldn't exactly argue with that, thinking back on how much he'd hated Mikoto's repetitive, boring song.

"Do you want to try something?" Nagare asked. "No rush, you can have as much time as you please."

Staring at the lyrics in front of him, Saruhiko pursed his lips. The moment he started to sing, there was no going back from this plan. Misaki would eventually hear this song, and he'd know what Saruhiko had done.

He thought momentarily about Mikoto's song again, and he knew he'd be hearing that too, just as much as Misaki would hear this one.

"I'll try," Saruhiko replied.

"Marvelous," Nagare said. "I'll be cutting out my vocals and you can do as you please."

Saruhiko heard the music start up again, and he waited for his cue, knowing he'd have to start. Nagare had already heard him sing at the concert, which is why he was here in the first place, so Saruhiko knew he'd have to get over his fear.

He opened his mouth, letting his mind go blank as Nagare's strange lyrics flowed from his voice. Singing through the song became almost a trance as he added runs and improvisations Nagare hadn't included. He didn't love how he sounded, but he kept going, wanting to push through the track. He kept his mind focused, staring at the page in front of him, and when the song ended, Saruhiko blinked, forgetting he had been singing at all.

Clapping came from the other side of the booth, snapping Saruhiko from his daze. Glancing out the window, he saw both Iwafune and Nagare clapping their hands excitedly. "That was absolutely perfect, Fushimi-san. I knew you'd be the best pick for this song," he smirked.

"...Thanks..." Saruhiko replied.

"It was brilliant! I want to do a few pick ups, maybe have you sing through it a few more times so we have different takes to work with. How does that sound?" Nagare asked.

"Right. Sure," Saruhiko said. It certainly hadn't felt brilliant. When he had sang with Misaki it had ignited a flame inside his blood, a rush he couldn't replicate with this type of song even if he had wanted to. His singing felt flat, emotionless, as though he were singing above the track, not in it, letting the sound wash over his body completely.

He wasn't sure why he had expected it to be the same. Nagare was nothing like Misaki, nothing at all, and it wasn't as though Saruhiko had actually agreed to this because he wanted to sing. His actions had been completely spiteful.

"Let's continue, we'll start from the top," Nagare said, turning the music on once again.

Even as regret began to settle into his chest, Saruhiko knew there was no turning back now.

~~

"Alright team, tell me you've got something," Kusanagi stated. "I'm bumping up this single's release date by a week."

A week? Misaki felt his face pale. His part of the song was finished, or so he thought. He had yet to play it for the Homra group, but Kamamoto had said it felt finished to him, and Misaki was happy with the final product. However, he had no idea if Mikoto and the others would approve what he had done.

"A week?" Totsuka said, speaking Misaki's thoughts out loud. He tilted his head in confusion, tapping his fingers on the table. "But we haven't even recorded the song yet Izumo~" Totsuka whined.

"Mm why?" Mikoto grunted, his expression staying the same, though Misaki felt a hint of annoyance coming from his aura.

"I heard Nagare plans on releasing a new track, something unique and crazy."

"Nothing new..." Mikoto grumbled.

"That's the thing though, if it is something new that gains traction with fans...it could be a problem for our track. Right now, more relaxed dance music is in style thanks to you Mikoto," Kusanagi explained. "The last thing we want is Nagare's erupting electrical style to take over. I doubt you want to make music like that, Mikoto."

The red haired male let out a long sigh, closing his eyes.

"Exactly. So, Yata-san, show us what you got."

Misaki swallowed, and quickly nodded, placing his laptop on the table. "I had...a few ideas to add to the track, as well as the lines where Totsuka-san would sing," Misaki said. "I hope you guys uh...like it."

"Stop being so nervous," Mikoto said, placing a hand on Misaki's shoulder. "We wouldn't have given it to ya' if we thought you'd suck."

Blushing, Misaki glanced at Mikoto's hand on his shoulder. "R-Right.." he nodded his head quickly, his hat falling down over his eyes. Clearing his throat, he pushed it back and opened his laptop, pushing play on the track.

He kept his eyes down, staring at the specks on the table, trying his best to focus on anything but their faces. He couldn't look at their reactions, he was far too terrified.

"Hm," Mikoto grunted, and Misaki jerked his head around to stare at the noise. He was nodding his head up and down ever so slightly.

"Wow..." Totsuka whispered as the end of the track faded out. "That...was awesome!" he cheered.

"You made it better," Mikoto said flatly.

"R-Really?!" Misaki said, standing up as he slammed his hands on the desk. Blushing, he slowly lowered himself back into the chair. "S-Sorry...I'm just happy you like it. I, uh, spent a lot of time perfecting it, I didn't want to ruin what you already had."

"You made it better," Mikoto repeated, nodding his head again.

"You did!" Totsuka said leaning forward. "I am so excited to be singing this song! Your friend is really missing out," he teased.

Misaki froze. "R-Right..." he chuckled awkwardly.

Saruhiko was missing out. This was supposed to be an amazing experience for both of them, for all of them. As much as he had struggled through the song thinking about Saruhiko, Misaki was still a little shocked Saruhiko had completely abandoned him like that. He could imagine Saruhiko sitting at his computer desk, looking grouchy, working on new tech stuff Misaki didn't understand at all. He could've been here, they should've both been here together, but Saruhiko was so damn stubborn. Misaki really had hoped Saruhiko would change his mind and sing with him. He'd come so far, overcoming all the frustrations he'd felt with music, but in the end, he'd gone back to his boring old job. Swallowing, he let the air empty out of his lungs, he'd promised himself he wouldn't waste anymore time worrying about Saruhiko. He'd been the ass, not Misaki...it was Saruhiko's fault he wasn't here.

"Fantastic! Let's get you guys over to the studio then!" Kusanagi said, clapping his hands together.

"Eh? Right now?" Misaki asked, glancing at Totsuka and Mikoto, both looking completely un-phased.

"Yes, right now. Do you have other plans?" Kusanagi asked, raising his eyebrow, as he turned to head out of the office, quickly followed by Mikoto.

Misaki quickly shook his head, standing up immediately to follow after them. "Don't worry," Totsuka chuckled, placing his hand on Misaki's shoulder. "They do this," he said. "Kusanagi is very...prepared. He usually likes what King does, so he sets up recording sessions early. And King just goes with the flow."

"Yeah, I'm...slowly catching on," Misaki chuckled.

They arrived at the studio barely 15 minutes later, and Totsuka was quick to hop in the booth. It was such a contrast to Saruhiko who Misaki had to practically pushed into the booth, desperate for him to just sing.

"So...how do you guys go about doing this?" Misaki asked, taking his seat next to Mikoto in front of the soundboard.

"Just leave it to Tatara," Mikoto said waving his hand. "I make the music, he makes the vocals. Don't worry."

Winking, Totsuka leaned over, giving them a thumbs up through the glass window which peered into the booth.

"Yeah, okay," Misaki nodded.

"He's...excited," Mikoto said, a small chuckle escaping his lips for a moment. "He usually gets like this about recording new shit," Mikoto snorted.

"That's...cool he's so passionate about your music though," Misaki said quietly.

"Mmm..." Mikoto glanced towards him. "Yeah. It's good to find a singer who can bring your music to life, and is excited about it."

Biting down on his lip, Misaki nodded. "Yeah, it always feels really good to have a singer who fits your stuff really well."

"Yeah. Don't worry Tatara is gonna sound great," Mikoto said, keeping his gaze fixated on the excited blond in the booth.

"O-Oh! I know...Uh...sorry, I wasn't trying to make it seem like Totsuka-san would do a bad job! He's incredible...one of the best singers I know! I'm...I'm so lucky to get to collab with him!"

"Yata...I know," Mikoto snorted, raising an eyebrow at him. "But I can tell you miss your friend. Talk to him again."

"What?! No way! This is the best opportunity I've had and Saruhiko gave it up! He's the one who walked away from me. If anyone is going to talk to anyone, he's gotta talk to me!" Misaki snapped.

"Alright," Mikoto shrugged.

Slouching down in his chair, Misaki sighed. He was such an idiot, getting all worked up about Saruhiko like that in front of Mikoto. How uncool! Though, looking at Mikoto, he didn't look too upset, actually he didn't look like he cared at all.

They had Totsuka listen to the track a few times, only two, before he was ready to try something. Totsuka's voice was pure, clean and bubbly, sounding excited and smooth over the track. It was a nice sound, and it was actually better than Misaki had expected it to be. He loved Totsuka's voice, but no matter how hard he had tried, he'd imagined Saruhiko's voice when he had been working on the lyrics. Still, listening to Totsuka now, Misaki did like how he sounded. It added to the meshing of both his and Mikoto's styles.

"That was great Tatara," Mikoto said. "Let's go again."

"Amazing!" Misaki cheered, giving him the thumbs up. It was incredible watching how fast Totsuka worked, and Misaki assumed this was how actual professional singers did things. Totsuka was so comfortable behind the mic, it looked as though everything in the booth, everything in the song belonged to him and only him. Admittedly, it was nice not having to push and fight with his singer to actual sing.

And yet...

Misaki stared into the booth, watching Totsuka sing with such beautiful passion over the track. It should've been perfect, it should've been everything he'd dreamed of. Misaki had been waiting for this moment for so long, collaborating with the two people he respected the most in this industry.

And yet...

The ghost of Saruhiko's voice in the track haunted Misaki. It had never been there of course, but Misaki felt like it had, and though Totsuka's voice was beautiful and full of emotion, Misaki missed how raw Saruhiko's vocals were, how unpolished everything was about him.

"Perfect," Kusanagi says. "You guys are going to blow Nagare's track out of the water," he chuckled, listening to a rough playback of Totsuka's vocals over the song.

"Of course we are!" Misaki cheered. Kusanagi was right. Totsuka sounded amazing, and the song sounded amazing. Yata Misaki had collaborated with Totsuka Tatara and Suoh Mikoto, and it was a dream come true. Actually he was kind of tempted to pinch himself to make sure this had actually happened. There was no point in focusing on stupid Saruhiko, not when he was experiencing one of the greatest moments of his life!

~~

Saruhiko had never felt so damn relieved to sit at his desk that Monday. He'd been gone for a few days due to the recording and the concert, and he was so happy that finally, finally things were back to normal.

Quiet. But normal.

And really...wasn't quiet what he wanted?

He glanced at his phone, the screen black and unchanging. He tapped the button on the screen, making it light up with the time. No new messages. He wasn't sure why he expected anything. Nagare had no reason to contact him, and Misaki sure as hell wasn't going to after the damn fight they'd had.

Minus Munakata, none of his coworkers had come to the concert either, so none of them were bugging him about it, or trying to get details, and it was...nice. He didn't want attention from them or anyone for that matter.

"Ah, good morning Fushimi-kun!" Of course his silence was extremely short lived.

"Mmm..." he grunted, keeping his face glued to the screen. Since Munakata had been quiet about going to the concert, Saruhiko could only hope he'd stay that way, especially around the others at work. There was a tiny itch Saruhiko had, wanting to ask Munakata how exactly he knew Suoh Mikoto, but he didn't want to talk about that guy, nor did he want to bring up stuff with the concert.

"Do you think you could join me in my office for a moment? I have something I'd like to discuss with you," Munakata said with a smile.

"...can it wait?" Saruhiko grunted. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"Are you?" Munakata smiled, peering over the cubicle. "It looks to me as if you're simply staring at your home screen currently."

Flaring his nostrils, Saruhiko let out a huff of breath. "Fine," he growled. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Marvelous!" Munakata said, and left him there.

Saruhiko groaned. What the hell could Munakata possibly want to talk about? Sure, he'd taken a few more days off than normal recently, but he rarely took days off, and it wasn't as though he was behind in his work. Everything he'd been doing recently had been on time, and well done, which was more than he could say for people like Hidaka and Doumyouji.

Flicking his computer screen off, he made his way to Munakata's office, knocking once before he entered.

"Good to see you today, Fushimi-kun. The office misses you when you're not here," Munakata said, leaning forward in his chair to rest his head on his hands.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue. He was certain they didn't miss him so much as they missed him picking up their slack and getting extra work done when he stayed later than all of them. "I'm sure," he mumbled.

"I am being serious," Munakata said. "Doumyouji-kun and Hidaka-kun are quite lost without you, and Akiyama-kun, my most proficient worker besides you seems to be slacking without you around as much."

"Sir," Saruhiko began, his eyebrow twitching. "Frankly, I don't see how this is my problem."

"Oh, it is not, I assure you. I simply wanted you to know how...well-liked you are here. This being said, I wanted to speak to you about your future at this company."

"My future?" Saruhiko retorted quickly.

"Yes, your future. As you now know, I am...somewhat close with Suoh Mikoto. A story for another day perhaps," Munakata began, and Saruhiko was damn grateful Munakata had decided to save his breath. "Anyway, I was told you turned down the chance to collaborate with him and your friend, Yata Misaki was it?" Munakata inquired. "I was...curious as to why."

Saruhiko's eyebrow twitched again. How the hell did Munakata find this shit out? Sure, he was friends with Suoh Mikoto, but then again, this was so like him, sticking his nose into Saruhiko's business when it didn't actually belong there.

"What does this have to do with my future here at this company?" Saruhiko grunted.

Munakata chuckled. "I suppose it doesn't affect much if you keep rejecting these opportunities. But I was surprised to hear you had. With your singing voice, Fushimi-kun, I'm sure collaborating with Yata-kun more would be quite good for you."

Clicking his tongue louder, it took every restraint Saruhiko had to not snap at Munakata for not minding his own business.

"I thought perhaps you'd prefer to pursue singing as a career, instead of working here. You're very intelligent, and losing you as an employee would be a blow to us of course. However, Fushimi-kun...I do know you quite well at this point, and I don't wish for you to feel obligated to stay."

Blinking, Saruhiko stared at Munakata for a moment, trying to process his thoughts. Munakata wasn't exactly wrong. Saruhiko did owe his adult life to Munakata. Without this job, without Munakata, he never would've been able to afford living on his own. And admittedly, he didn't hate the job. The people were frustrating sure, but fixing computers was interesting, and challenging every so often. He'd never really thought about how his life would be if he wasn't doing this. He'd never thought he would ever consider leaving. He liked where he was, and before Misaki came and threw off all of his plans, he'd never imagine doing anything else.

None of it mattered however. Munakata was wrong. He didn't imagine himself as a singer, and he'd said no to any further collaborations with Misaki, and he wasn't ever going to work with Nagare again either. He was done with singing, it was over.

"Mmm," Saruhiko grunted. "I won't be doing anymore singing anytime soon. I didn't reject the opportunity because of this job," he mumbled.

"I didn't think so," Munakata chuckled. "It's not my business to ask any more details, but I know you and Yata-kun had a fight." Munakata paused, but Saruhiko said nothing in response, staying silent. There was no point in talking about this anymore, Saruhiko decided. He wasn't going to sing, Misaki was off enjoying his new life as signed DJ, and Saruhiko simply wanted to fade into an unknown existence again.

"Well," Munakata sighed. "I won't keep you from your work," he said, and Saruhiko bowed his head, turning to leave. "But one more thing, Fushimi-kun," Munakata began, freezing Saruhiko at the entrance to the door. "Seeing you perform the other night...it was as though I finally saw you truly living. With Yata-kun, it seems you can do anything, or that was the sense I got from your singing," he said. "I would hate to see you lose that look in your eyes because of a silly fight."

Clenching his fist around the door handle, Saruhiko swung the door open and stormed away. What the hell did Munakata know anyway? He'd only known him for a few years, he didn't know how singing with Misaki made Saruhiko feel, he didn't know how Saruhiko felt about Misaki in general, how frustrating the idiot was. So what if he looked amazing and 'alive' while singing. It was a fluke, a one time thing...it wasn't going to happen ever again, especially not while Misaki was off following Mikoto like a lovesick puppy.

No, Saruhiko had made his choice.

~~

It wasn't long before blogs and radio stations had begun talking Nagare's announcement for his new track. It hadn't come long after Misaki and Mikoto had recorded theirs, but Kusanagi had made the final decision to hold off on posting their new single until around when Nagare's came out. The plan was to release it before however, and Misaki was anxious to hear the final product, and crowd reaction. Most people loved what Mikoto did, but who knew if they'd like the addition of him.

For now, Misaki was focusing on his other songs for his upcoming album. He had recorded a second with Totsuka, and though it had turned out amazingly, Misaki would occasionally feel the slight pang of longing for Saruhiko's amazing voice.

He'd made a promise with himself to stop being down about it after the recording session with Mikoto and Totsuka. Ultimately Misaki was happy. Sometimes his brain would be filled with thoughts of how things were with Saruhiko. It would've been better with Saruhiko, he often would think, but would quickly try and shake the idea from his head.

This was his dream, being signed with Homra was going to be amazing, and he could only hope to continue collaborating with Mikoto in the future. There had already been discussion of a tour with him once both of their new albums were released, then they could play their duet together as well. As long as the sales were up, it was basically guaranteed. Touring with Mikoto was a dream come true, actually everything lately had felt like a dream come true.

Still, Saruhiko missing was a hard slap of reality. Misaki was too stubborn to call him or text him, but he kept checking his phone to see if Saruhiko maybe would, even though he knew damn well Saruhiko would never. It sucked. They had been so close...to something. He'd just started to think that maybe...he loved the asshole. What a fool he'd been. One stupid fight had ruined it all, why the hell had Saruhiko not been more understanding!? Misaki groaned every time he thought about it. It was growing more and more frustrating and Misaki hated how often he felt down thinking about it.

The real problem was, Misaki missed Saruhiko. Missed his voice, missed collaborating with him. And more than his voice, Misaki missed Saruhiko. He missed Saruhiko's grouchy attitude, and he missed getting to bug him through texts all the time, and he missed getting to kiss him, and touch him...even though they had only done that a few times, Misaki had really really wanted to do it more. Usually, it was too much to even think about it.

"How did it go?" Kamamoto asked, when Misaki walked in from his session with Totsuka.

"It was good," Misaki said, tossing his backpack on the floor and plopping on the couch next to Kamamoto.

"Just good? You were recording with Totsuka today right?" he said.

"Yeah it was awesome!" he chuckled, leaning back with his arms against the couch.

"That sounds more like the Misaki I know," Kamamoto said, nudging his side.

"Shaddup! I'm still not used to this."

"What? Getting to work with your music heroes?" Kamamoto teased.

"Yeah! Exactly! It's just a little surreal you know?" Misaki said. "Plus...I'm still having that problem where I hear dumbass Saruhiko's voice on everything I do! It...kind of throws me off when I hear Totsuka sing them."

"Really?" Kamamoto said, looking shocked. "Isn't Totsuka really good though?"

"Yeah..." Misaki muttered. "I mean he's amazing! I love his voice, especially on Mikoto's stuff, they just...mesh so well you know?!"

"Well, they're dating right? I know there's been rumors about it..." Kamamoto said.

"WHAT?!" Misaki yelled. "They are!?"

"Eh!?" Kamamoto blinked. "I figured for sure you'd know since you've been around them in person unlike most of the tabloid writers..."

"I had...no idea..." Misaki blinked. "But I guess that does make sense...As to why they mesh so well." Blushing, Misaki thought of how good Saruhiko sounded on his song, and how it had led to other things between them.

"So you feel like Totsuka isn't right for your songs then?" Kamamoto asked.

Misaki shook his head. "No, he's still amazing. His voice is incredible, and I actually can't believe the Totsuka Tatara is singing on one of my songs. But you know when you have a certain sound in your head...and you just...can't get it out. That keeps happening..." Misaki muttered, standing up to head to the kitchen for water.

"Hmm. You gotta do something to forget about that guy," Kamamoto said, leaning on the arm of the couch. "Maybe imagine Totsuka singing your stuff when you're working on it."

"I've been trying that!" Misaki moaned. "It's just...not working so well."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. You always do!" Kamamoto cheered.

"I gotta!" Misaki said, filling up a cup with some water. "I mean I gotta make this album good you know? It's my first one!"

"Yata-san, no matter what you do, your album is gonna be freaking awesome!" Kamamoto chuckled.

"Maybe..." he sighed, sitting back down on the couch, and kicking his legs onto the table in front of them.

"Oh! You know what I heard, Nagare's single is going to be previewed tonight on the radio in...5 minutes!" Kamamoto said glancing at his watch.

"WHAT?!" Misaki said, slamming the cup on the table. "We wanted to release our single first! Shit! Kusanagi is going to be mad."

"Well it's just a preview...not everyone will hear it," Kamamoto said. "It's not like it's going online."

"Argh! Still!" Misaki growled, dashing into his room. He dug through his drawers looking for his old portable radio. Frantically tossing clothes and trash around, he finally found it on a shelf near his closet.

He ran back to the living room, placing it on the table as he tuned it to the 'Hits' station.

"Dammit!" Misaki cursed again. "I can't believe this!"

"You can still release it first," Kamamoto said. "Sorry I didn't realize this was such a big deal."

"Of course it is!" Misaki snapped. "We don't wanna be competing with Nagare's new sound. Whatever it is..." he grumbled.

His heart pounded as he heard the radio announcer talk about Nagare's new single, and how unique and interesting it was. Misaki normally loved his music, and any other time he probably would've been thrilled to hear a new track by him, but for now he was a complete ball of anxiety. What would it sound like? Would it be good? Would it be better than his and Mikoto's song?! Would their song flop which would cause Misaki's album to flop, and then he wouldn't get to go on tour and lose his signing?!

"And now! We're happy to bring you a preview of Nagare's new song, featuring up and coming singer, Fushimi Saruhiko."

Misaki froze, all thoughts of failure slipping from his mind. "..." Picking up the tiny radio, he turned to Kamamoto, whose face looked confused, his brow furrowed. "What the hell did it just say?!"

"I-I dunno!" Kamamoto choked out.

"Did it...did it say...did it...Saruhiko?" Misaki felt his mouth run dry, and he stared at the device in front of him. There was no way to rewind, so as the song began, all he could do was wait and listen. The song seemed to play in slow motion, each beat felt painful as his head began to throb. He couldn't focus on what the song sounded like.

Had Saruhiko sang with someone else? There was no way. Saruhiko could barely sing for him...let alone anyone else...

The first line came in, and Misaki felt his heart flutter, and then immediately sink. He knew that tone so well.

Saruhiko was singing on a song Hisui Nagare had written.

[mistleto-3]

Positive Outcomes: Part 1

Mikoto and Tatara have been in love since forever, and Misaki finds himself in the unfortunate position of having a crush on both of them.

Pairing: Mikoto/Tatara/Misaki

3,959 words. For K Project Rarepair Week 2017, Day 1: Beginnings. 

This turned out longer than expected, so it’s probably going to end up about 3 chapters long. 

This fic takes place in the same universe as my other mikotatasaki fic- Tease. 

All parts | Part 2 | Part 3

AO3

In Misaki’s eyes, the only positive outcome of Saruhiko’s defection from Homra was just how much his clan had rallied around him in his time of need. He was normally the sort of person who loathed to show weakness, who did his best to hide his pain behind either laughter or rage, whichever came easiest. But he could only keep it under wraps so much of the time, and the sting of betrayal didn’t relent when he no longer had the strength to hide it. He knew people noticed, he knew he was failing to keep his composure, and he’d expected his grief to be the butt of every joke exchanged between his fellow clansmen during their usual banter.

But it wasn’t. Even the guys he didn’t get along with quite so well eased up on their usual low-grade teasing, but even more heartening was the response of his friends. As soon as Rikio heard what had happened, the first words out of his mouth had been to ask if Misaki needed anything, if there was anything he could do for him. Izumo had even, for once, relaxed his strict policy on no underage drinking and offered him a beer. But the most supportive by far had been Tatara. He’d gone out of his way at every available moment to spend time with Misaki, to check in on him, to encourage him, to make sure if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Tatara was there for him if he ever needed anything at all. The pair had ended up spending a lot of time together in the aftermath of Saruhiko’s betrayal, and Misaki was grateful for the distraction of his company, but also for the way his friend tried his damnedest to make sure Misaki knew he was cared about. The comfort went a long way, especially in the wake of the abandonment he’d felt.

But the thing he was the most grateful for was Tatara’s patience. No matter how long it took, no matter how many months the bitter aftertaste of the betrayal lingered at the back of Misaki’s throat, no matter how many times he texted him in the middle of the night, Tatara was unfailingly there for him, just as eager to help as he had been the moment he first heard that Saruhiko had left. His relentless optimism and unfaltering smile never failed to take the edge off the pain.

He wasn’t the only good thing to come out of all of this though - a pleasant side effect of all the time Misaki was spending with Tatara was that he was practically inseparable from Mikoto- the pair had been dating for what felt like forever, so being around Tatara usually meant his boyfriend would be somewhere nearby. Misaki had no objection to this; he’d always idolised his King, and having something of a monopoly on his time and attention (at least, compared to the other members of the clan) was a privilege to him. It was affirming to be able to get to know Mikoto better- Saruhiko’s abandonment had left him feeling almost worthless, but to know his King seemed to consider him deserving of his time was going some way to help repair that.

However, that wasn’t the only side effect of being around Tatara, and the others weren’t quite so positive. The most unfortunate of which was the crush he could feel himself beginning to develop on his friend, and no matter what he did, the feelings only got stronger every time he saw him. Apart from anything else, Tatara was very pretty, and that combined with his kindness and his generosity and the amount of time they’d been spending together had ignited some confusing feelings that were beginning to bubble in the pit of Misaki’s gut. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Tatara wasn’t already off-limits, but his relationship with Mikoto was so obviously full of love and support that Misaki despised himself for even contemplating coming between them. Not that he would ever act on his feelings though, or that he thought Tatara would ever choose him over their King anyway.

So he pushed through. The ache in his gut at the sight of his friend was bearable if he ignored it, and he certainly preferred having an unrequited crush to being without Tatara’s company; he didn’t know if he would have made it through the rough patch after Saruhiko left without him.

It wasn’t like he’d never dealt with unrequited feelings before anyway; he’d been nursing a puppy crush on Mikoto since he joined Homra, and it was because of Mikoto that Misaki started questioning his sexuality in the first place. Still, his crush on Mikoto hadn’t seemed like such a big deal back then- it was more the sort of crush one might have on a celebrity, or on an upperclassman; he knew from the outset it was completely unattainable. Even before Mikoto and Tatara had gotten together, it was obvious to everyone (even Misaki, who was normally totally oblivious about anything to do with romance) that they were meant for each other, so he never even considered the possibility of acting on his feelings. Not that knowing he was unattainable made it any easier, but he’d had much bigger problems at the time. The revelation that he wasn’t as heterosexual as first thought was a much more immediate crisis, and it was something he fought against vehemently for a number of reasons, not least of which was that it forced him into the uncomfortable realisation that his feelings for Saruhiko had been perhaps a shade stronger than platonic. Which had only been salt in the wound when he’d been abandoned by him- it was difficult to reconcile the bitterness he felt towards his old friend with the remnants of his crush on him. Misaki wasn’t good at complicated feelings, and wanting to simultaneously punch someone and cling onto them and never let them go was far too much for him, so he tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, and continued doing what he’d gotten very good at: pretending it didn’t bother him, pretending the feelings didn’t exist. And eventually, the crush he used to have on Saruhiko faded away.

He just wished his feelings for Mikoto and Tatara would do the same, but no matter how much he suppressed them and ignored them and tried to will them out of existence, they were stubborn, and it seemed the more he tried to get rid of them, the stronger they took root.

And perhaps he could have dealt with that if Tatara wasn’t the type of person who could read anyone’s thoughts as though they were written in their eyes- even Mikoto, who seemed completely expressionless to Misaki, wasn’t immune to the uncanny attention to detail of Tatara’s piercing gaze. Misaki would have been lying if he said it didn’t make him a little uncomfortable when his friend gave him one of those looks- he felt like he was being unfolded like a piece of paper for Tatara to peruse his secrets at will.

Of course, it wasn’t quite that dramatic- it wasn’t like Tatara was psychic- but he was particularly perceptive to even the subtlest of tells, and he had a knack for knowing when something was wrong, especially when Misaki hadn’t intended to say anything about it. So of course he’d begun to notice that Misaki seemed like he was bothered by something more often than not, and he wasn’t shy about asking what was wrong. Misaki always played it off, usually as residual anger from Saruhiko’s betrayal, or some small thing like a bad day at work, but he wasn’t a good liar, and one evening while Misaki was hanging out above the bar (technically in Mikoto’s room, but Tatara practically lived there) Tatara finally seemed to have heard one too many half-hearted “I’m fine”s.

“Yata, what’s really wrong? You’ve got this look on your face like Chitose gets when he’s having girl trouble, and it’s been what, six months since Fushimi left? I know it’s going to take a long time to get over it, but I also know you aren’t as cut up about it as you used to be, but you still seem just as unhappy. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Misaki shifted uncomfortably in his seat- he’d felt himself grimace when Tatara had mentioned girl trouble, and it had betrayed him.

“Is there a girl you like or something?” Tatara asked gently, with an encouraging smile. It was so difficult not to spill his guts out to him with that look on his face- he had the kind of face everyone trusted.

“N-not exactly…” Misaki admitted grudgingly. He hadn’t really intended to say anything, but there was no dodging the question now, and he’d spent so long trying to bottle it all up that, just for a moment, he slipped.

“What do you mean?”

Misaki panicked. There was no way he could tell Tatara he liked him, or that he liked Mikoto- it would make their friendship unbearably awkward, and he couldn’t handle that, not when he still needed him. So he scrambled frantically for something else to tell him, and the only thing he could think of that would explain his mood was:

“…I-I think I might be gay.”

It was still perhaps more than he’d wanted to admit, but it was true that in the past few months he’d spent some time battling with his sexuality, and he could feel his attraction to women waning, but to be perfectly honest, it hadn’t really surprised or bothered him to any great extent. First realising he wasn’t straight had been a big blow, and it had taken him almost a year to finally accept and wrap his head around the concept that he was queer, but now he’d sort of gotten comfortable with the idea, he was finding it more and more difficult to imagine himself with a girl.

Not that he’d intended to tell Tatara that right now- he didn’t want to give him any clues about his crushes, and this was the first time he’d actually voiced his thoughts about his sexuality out loud- but he supposed the slip could have been much worse. It was still enough to make him clamp his teeth down on his tongue in regret, though.

Predictably, Tatara’s response was immediate acceptance and comfort. “Is that what’s been bothering you? Ah, you should have said something sooner, I know it can be really confusing and difficult to figure that stuff out, but you know I’d never judge you. It’s good that you’re figuring that out about yourself, there’s nothing wrong with it. It doesn’t make you any less of a man.”

“Thanks…”

Even though he hadn’t meant to come out right then, Tatara’s words were still comforting. Part of the reason it had taken him so long to come to terms with his orientation was the way it clashed in his head with his masculinity, and while he knew cognitively that being gay didn’t make him weak or girly (he’d seen Mikoto, the strongest man he knew, kiss another man enough times to know that wasn’t the case), he still struggled not to feel emasculated by the revelation. Not that he saw anything wrong with the idea of being a feminine guy, but it wasn’t what he wanted for himself- he’d grown up wanting to be a protector, someone strong and reliable, the typical man of the house, and it had been difficult for him to make that mesh with the idea of dating guys.

“Is that why Fushimi leaving was so hard on you?”

That had been the other reason he didn’t want to admit he was into guys when he first started to have his suspicions about himself- it was a step towards admitting he wasn’t sure if his feelings for his old best friend were platonic or romantic, and he hadn’t wanted to risk making things awkward between them by having a crush on him. Not that it would have made a difference in hindsight- he didn’t think confessing would have stopped Saruhiko from leaving.

“N-no! …I dunno, I don’t feel that way about him anymore, he’s a shitty traitor, how could I like someone like that? But I guess maybe, a while back…” he admitted with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. Tatara had this way about him of getting people to say things they’d never say to anyone else.

“It’s alright. It’s normal to get crushes on your friends. If you ever need anyone to talk to about this, or if you have any questions, you know King and I are always here for you.”

Misaki nodded. He’d heard Tatara say he was there for him more times than he could count.

“It can be a lot to come to terms with, but once you’ve figured yourself out it gets easier, and you’re handsome, you’ll have no trouble finding a boyfriend.”

Misaki felt his cheeks burn at the comment, and he scrambled for a response, but could only summon a lengthy stutter before falling silent and staring at the floorboards.

Tatara chuckled gently, then looked up as the door opened and interrupted him before he could offer Misaki some reassurance. Mikoto walked in with his hands in his pockets, and a faint downward turn to the corner of his lips that Misaki didn’t notice, but Tatara did. Tatara noticed plenty- not just the frown, but the black charring on his sleeve, and the way his shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly with the effort of keeping his powers contained. He hadn’t had a good day.

Tatara patted the seat beside him with a comforting smile, and Mikoto crossed the room to press his fist to his partner’s palm, then wrapped his arm around his shoulder as he sank onto the couch to draw comfort from Tatara’s touch. Misaki averted his eyes from the sight and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling as though he was intruding on something intimate and private (though it didn’t help that seeing the two people he had growing crushes on being lovey-dovey with each other made his stomach turn.)

But even despite his discomfort (and his usual level of obliviousness) he quickly picked up on Mikoto’s emotional state. He had a vague awareness that Mikoto seemed to lose control of himself and go a little overboard with his powers sometimes, and that he felt guilty about it, but he wasn’t entirely aware of the extent of it- Mikoto hid his distress well around everyone except Tatara. Still, now Misaki was quite sure there was something wrong, and he couldn’t just sit there while his King was upset. Not that he had any idea of what to say, but Tatara piped up before he had a chance to speak anyway. Misaki listened quietly to their conversation.

“What’s wrong?”

“Couple o’ the guys got themselves into some trouble and Kusanagi sent me to help ‘em out. Things got outta hand, one guy got taken away in an ambulance.”

“Ah, Kusanagi-san mentioned to me that Chitose had called, said he was hitting on some girl who turned out to have a boyfriend, and the boyfriend took offense, I didn’t realise it turned into a fight though.”

“Dewa stepped in, so the boyfriend called his friends.”

Misaki realised he didn’t think he’d ever heard Mikoto say so much in one go.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Tatara said gently. “Our guys could have gotten hurt if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“They coulda taken care of it themselves.”

“Then it definitely would have turned into a fight, and Chitose has a bad habit of hanging around shady parts of town where people carry guns. Your presence is usually enough to diffuse an argument and avoid a fight entirely, that’s why Kusanagi sends you to these things, because your reputation precedes you and people don’t wanna get on your bad side. A couple of idiot thugs thinking they can take you on is their fault, not yours. You were defending yourself and your clansmen, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

By now, Misaki had figured out what they were talking about- he’d heard that Chitose had gotten into a fight that afternoon, and somebody had pulled a gun, but he’d never been worried. Firearms had never been a match for their aura, but apparently, things had gotten a little out of hand. By the sounds of it, the boyfriend was a little drunk and more than a little overprotective, and had bitten off more than he could chew when it came to “defending” his girl from some well-intentioned flirting. .

“It’s good the guy got what he deserved,” Misaki finally chipped in. “He sounds like a piece of work, starting a fight over a girl like some kinda animal. Apart from anything else that’s disrespectful of the lady, treating her like property, but it’s good you were there. It’s ‘cause people know how scary you can get when you’re mad that they don’t try anything on innocent people who can’t protect themselves, like Totsuka-san and Anna-chan. Even though it kinda sucks to feel bad about hurting someone, you protected the people you care about, right? That’s a really cool thing to do in my eyes.”

A moment passed at the end of Misaki’s monologue as he reflected on how hurried and stammered it had been, and he felt his cheeks warming in embarrassment once more. But when he looked up, Tatara was smiling at him, and Mikoto seemed… calmer. He wasn’t gripping Tatara’s hand quite so tightly anymore.

“See? I’m not the only one who’s figured out your powers are meant to protect,” Tatara declared, almost smugly, as he slung his arm around Misaki’s shoulder with pride.

“Mm,” Mikoto replied simply, and left it there, but he appeared to have cheered up a little bit- the faintest of smiles curled the corners of his lips, and Misaki felt his heart squeeze in his chest, both at how close Tatara was to him, and at the privilege of seeing Mikoto like this, with his guard down. He almost never showed that side to anyone other than Tatara and Anna- Misaki couldn’t believe his luck that he was one of the only other members of Homra who got this. It was bittersweet though, knowing how much he wanted more of this, but couldn’t have it.

Tatara glanced between the pair of them, seeming pleased by the exchange, then clapped his hands together and got to his feet. “Sounds like both of you deserve a drink, and it is a Friday night after all.”

Misaki wasn’t about to protest- for once, Kusanagi wasn’t around to chide him for drinking below the legal age, and he felt like he could do with one, just to calm his nerves.

Tatara headed to the fridge to retrieve a few cans of beer, then passed one to each of his companions before opening one himself.

“Careful,” Mikoto said to Tatara, nodding towards the can in his hand. Despite that Tatara was of the legal drinking age (though only just), he was far worse at handling alcohol than Misaki- by the time he’d gotten two drinks down, he was usually very tipsy when everyone else would still be largely sober. It was hilarious to watch, until he entered his “affectionate drunk” stage and sent Misaki’s pulse skyrocketing whenever he started getting cuddly with him (which usually started half way through his first drink.)

Physical affection wasn’t the only side effect of Tatara’s inebriation, and predictably, half way through his first can of beer, he began to let slip the odd cheesy compliment, or declaration of just how fond he was of the people present. Which once again, was not good for Misaki’s blood pressure, and it wasn’t long before he felt his cheeks heating up in mortification.

“You know, you shouldn’t worry about what Fushimi thinks of you so much,” Tatara said suddenly, turning to Misaki. “You’re a handsome guy, and you’re sweet and chivalrous and you’ve got that rugged masculine charm about you. You could have anyone you wanted, someone who sees eye to eye with you and makes you happy. Right, Mikoto? Don’t you think he’d make someone a great boyfriend someday?”

Misaki felt the blood rush into his cheeks, trying to ignore the pang of discomfort in the pit of his stomach at the sound of the person he wanted but couldn’t have telling him he could have anyone he wanted.

“You’re embarrassing him,” Mikoto pointed out.

“Just answer the question- he’s cute, isn’t he?”

Mikoto rolled his eyes, but nodded, unable to deny Tatara a response when he was giving him those puppy eyes.

Misaki took a deep swig of his drink to hide his face. “Y-you know, I’m always grateful for your help and stuff but ya don’t need to say all that stuff… It’s not a big deal, I’ll get a p-partner or whatever when the time’s right, there’s no rush on any of that stuff…” he mumbled, trying his best not to sound humiliated.

“It’s fine, I just thought you should know, one guy to another, that you really are handsome and you’re a great guy and you shouldn’t let someone make you feel like you’re not worthy because you weren’t right for each other at one moment in time.”

“That whole ‘one guy to another’ thing doesn’t really apply unless you’re straight ya know…” Misaki grumbled.

“Why don’t ya just kiss him already?” Mikoto joked to Tatara, rolling his eyes at his gooeyness. He evidently found his boyfriend’s drunken behaviour highly amusing.

Misaki spluttered, almost choking on his drink at Mikoto’s suggestion, but the blood drained from his face as Tatara actually leaned in towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was chaste and innocent and friendly but he felt like his heart was going to crack through his ribs.

“Ah… I-it’s um… getting late…” Misaki managed to stammer out. “I should probably head home…”

“Ahh, you’re right, I didn’t realise the time! You shouldn’t walk home through this part of town so late at night, though, and it’s raining anyway. Stay over, we’ll pull out the couch for you,” Tatara suggested, and like Mikoto, Misaki was unable to say no to that face. So he accepted the offer, along with the pyjamas loaned to him, and helped Tatara pull the sofa out into a bed. The pyjamas he’d been lent were Mikoto’s- Tatara was far too skinny for Misaki to fit any of his clothes. There was something embarrassing about the way the clothes dwarfed him, and something even more embarrassing about the suggested intimacy of it- the fabric smelled of his King, and he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that Mikoto had actually slept in these clothes. He changed promptly, then climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to avoid breathing in the scent of his King that lingered on the cuffs of his sleeves as Mikoto and Tatara got themselves ready to sleep. In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to go home and freak out in peace, but there was something about Tatara’s face that made him incredibly difficult to say no to. So he lay awake, listening to his friends climb into bed beside each other and share soft kisses and whispered “goodnight”s and “I love you”s as he clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip, trying his best to pretend he didn’t wish he could be over there with them.

[itsuki-minamy]

WONDERFUL SCHOOL DAYS: MY PRECIOUS RED

CHAPTER 5: WINTER

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: skyflyinginaction

* Gakuen K (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

In the end, the feeling of discomfort was unexpectedly terrible and she was unable to recover to the point where she could walk home. Although Fushimi's hands had helped her, she was so shocked that she was forced to undergo an examination and she went to the hospital that day.

The next day, after a medical examination, she returned to the girls' dormitory.

(Oh, just, because everyone is taking classes.), she thought.

However, although there should have been no abnormalities at the time of the exam, she had a fever at noon and she stopped going to school that day.

She knew what the reason was, probably from Yata's words.

She believed it was because those words were stuck in her chest and she was worried. In other words, it was something spiritual.

Because it was the first time Yata had yelled at her like that.

She was surprised by the word "betrayal" and that Yata thought that of her.

She didn't know why, of course he was hurt, and maybe he was angry. Because, Yata, he just said that and left the hospital room without hearing her excuse.

But at the same time, Yata's face at that moment couldn't get out of her head.

More than that, she didn't understand why. She thought he was hurt.

His face burned at the back of her eyes and it was very painful.

Actually, it was the opposite, but she still felt that she had hurt Yata.

Is it because he was worried and distraught? By the time Kukuri came to visit her at the end of school, her fever had risen higher and exceeded 38 degrees. Even the next morning, she did not come down. She apparently caught a cold since she was weak.

She had no choice but to go to the hospital the next day while she fluttered about.

She got a drip and a Chinese herbal medicine for the fever.

Anyway, she was bored alone in the room that day and tried to sleep. She had a hard time eating the yogurt that Kukuri bought for her and she took the medicine.

But the next morning, after all, the fever didn't go down.

(Oh, it's the third day. I want to go to school soon.), she thought.

She was impatient, but her body couldn't bear it.

"It doesn't work; it doesn't work..."

She coughed, looked at the ceiling and sighed.

Her body was hot and heavy. It was difficult to even turn around.

She couldn't go to school in that situation. She knew that going there would only cause annoyance and worry.

"Ah…"

She looked up at the ceiling and pursed her lips tightly.

She hated herself as a person.

Being alone in a quiet room reminded her of all the extra things.

This also happened last year, she was alone in the room.

Scared of herself as a "monster", she locked herself in her room. Other than that, she didn't know what to do.

She hugged herself trembling and stared at the wall. Also in the morning, even during the day and at night.

"......"

She wanted to go to school and laugh with Kukuri and Neko.

She also wanted to go to the "HOMRA" bar, and play with everyone in the red club.

She was alone, and she did not like being alone.

"Yata-kun..."

She coughed out the name on her chest. She wanted to see Yata.

She hurt the back of her nose.

Even if she said that, she still remembered what Yata said. She wanted to see him, but she knew he was upset.

Why? He was hurt, he was sad and angry, but she wanted to see him.

She didn't know why, but Yata doubted her.

Was she "betraying" Yata? Why? Why didn't she think that was never the case?

For Yata, how long have you been together since spring?

Did he join her with a sense of duty because of the injury he caused?

She gently clenched her back teeth and covered her eyes with both hands.

Even if she knew it was different, she thought so herself.

Because if not, do you think it is a "betrayal"? Although they are friends!

(Yata-kun, you said that even I was your friend, right?), she thought.

Or was it not good for her like that?

"......"

Thinking that, she shook her head.

She did not doubt him. She just wanted to say, why was she thinking only of Yata?

There were many other things to think about. For example, who locked her up in that place? What was the purpose of it?

Was she also an object of disgust and fear? Because she was as strange a Strain as she was in the previous school?

"Ah...!"

It was disconcerting and sad. Even if she knew she couldn't be helped, it hurt.

But why? After all, the thought immediately returned to Yata.

She thought of various things and she wanted to see him after all.

(Oh, I want to see Yata-kun and talk.), she thought she.

Even now, she wanted to see Yata above all else.

It was at that moment that she heard a clear pounding sound. That surprised her and she opened her eyes.

Looking at the alarm clock next to the bed, it was almost 12 o'clock.

Yes. In other words, it was definitely the time when both students and teachers were in school.

Eh? Who would it be at that time?

"……?"

The moment she wondered and looked around her, called her a second time.

Involuntarily it was impressive.

After all, the sound of knocking was not coming from the door.

When she struggled to get up, she moved to the window, dragging her heavy body.

Then when she moved the curtains and looked out onto the balcony,

"…?!"

Eh?

What she saw from the window was a black school uniform and a boy with auburn hair.

She opened her mouth in amazement, and hurriedly opened the window curtains.

"Yes, Yata-kun?"

It was Yata who was crouched on the balcony to avoid the gaze of the public.

Without a doubt, Yata.

"Uh..."

"Why are you here?! What happened to the school?"

"You have decided to skip it, right?"

Yata blushed and walked away.

"Well, if you think about it, it's true... Isn't that a lie?! Really, Yata-kun?"

"......"

It was too much, she did not immediately accept the reality that she had in front of her and she was confused.

She couldn't believe it, Yata went to the girls' dorm.

"I can enter?"

For her, that she had no choice but to be just a flower, the illusion came carefully.

She took a deep breath and said, "Okay, come in.", and opened the window wider.

"You were in bed."

"But…"

"You have a fever, right?"

Yata kicked off his shoes and walked in, saying that bluntly.

"Yes, I heard."

"Whose?"

"Kamamoto... and Yukizome."

"I see."

She wanted to see him, but she was still hurt and frustrated, so she couldn't speak well.

When she closed her mouth, Yata was also uncomfortable, and as he looked away from her, he coughed, "Would you like to go back to bed?"

"Mmm..."

She thought it was not a place to be stubborn, so she went to bed quietly, Yata sat cross-legged next to her and looked at her anxiously.

Her favorite, Yata's eyes.

Straightforward, hot, and unwavering, but kind.

"Are you okay?"

With that one word, her heart warmed enough that it was painful.

Oh, Yata. Anxious and overprotective. He always rushed first and protected her. The usual Yata.

Yata was next to her. She was so happy that she was about to burst into tears.

Oh, no. It wasn't just that. That was not the norm.

Finally, she realized. Being by his side was already an irreplaceable miracle, but for that it was painful.

Because he said that?

She bit her back teeth and looked at Yata.

"It is bad!"

Then Yata gritted his teeth, painfully distorted her face, and the next moment he sat on the ground. This was the second time for Yata.

Yata's strong voice echoed. She was concerned that they could hear it from outside.

It was the same as that time.

The first day of transfer. Just like Yata, who sat across from her.

He hit his forehead and screamed more.

"You can hit me until you feel like it!"

Eh?!

"Well, I won't do that."

She was surprised by the words, she hastily got up and shook her head.

"Oh, get up and you will fall!"

"Then stop doing that."

"Okay, but…!"

"They haven't asked you to do that, right?"

Perhaps Yata was surprised, he raised his head vigorously.

His eyes that pierced her harbored burning flames.

There was something she came up with with devotion.

Oh, how many times had those eyes saved her?

She liked her, she loved Yata's eyes.

"I want to hear the story, but they haven't asked me to sit down, much less hit me. Ok?"

"But..."

"If you stop, I'll lie down quietly."

"......"

When she said "Hey?", he thought it was not a place to be stubborn. Yata reluctantly crossed his legs. She was relieved and she went back to bed.

"It is bad…"

"You were in the hospital, right?"

"Ah…"

"Let me know..."

Yata painfully distorted his face and looked down.

After being silent for a while, he said, "I'm not going to make an excuse.", and slowly parted his lips.

"Saru was my best friend from high school."

"……!"

She gasped at the unexpected words.

She widened her eyes and looked at Yata, who was still face down.

Was Fushimi-kun his best friend?

There was no reason for him to lie. Yata couldn't lie.

But now they didn't see each other as friends.

"Are you a traitor too?"

Yata's piercing scream echoed through the hospital.

Finally, she was surprised at the unnaturalness of the words.

That was all. At that moment, Yata said "you too", "traitor", for the second time.

It was a word that would never come out unless someone had betrayed him in the past.

"Obviously, he was by my side. It was natural to be by my side. He was a partner and an ally. Truly, always, always together."

"Yata-kun..."

"Since then, I've been longing for Mikoto-san. Both Kusanagi-san and Totsuka-san. I wanted to go to his side and get closer. When I went to high school, I would definitely enter Homura. Both..."

Yata clenched his fist tightly.

"That's right, I entered high school, I entered Homura, but when the summer break was over, he left the club without permission and went straight to the blue club..."

"......"

"It was an unprecedented story in the red club and the blue club, and a big uproar. I didn't understand, and I rushed inside. But the monkey…! He couldn't even speak about the reason!"

He hit the ground with his fist. He shrugged.

"He just laughed to look down, nothing more..."

"......"

"I still don't understand the meaning. I don't understand it and that's why I'm angry..."

"Yata-kun..."

"Why did you betray me? I was far away. But is he your partner? The best is... Homura!"

He felt sad that he couldn't finish his thoughts with every word.

"It's important... I feel like everything was denied..."

"Yata-kun..."

"I heard that you should have gone to help with the class preparations, but you were with the Monkey in that place, and then you were taken away in an ambulance. I thought..."

Yata raised his head and looked at her painfully distorting his face.

"It's bad. You and the Monkey are different..."

He shook his head in a voice that squeezed the wound.

Yata hadn't figured it out at all, which was why he felt frustrated and dejected.

She felt that she could understand that frustrating feeling.

And she understood well the fear of suddenly losing something important.

Once suddenly she lost everything that was important to her.

"......"

(I see. That's Yata-kun's trauma.), she thought.

Perhaps he was very worried, that is why he lacked calm.

At the time, even Fushimi, who contacted her, didn't know what had happened. So they all were told only two things: "she was with Fushimi in an unpopular place" and "she got injured in an accident there."

Then it was impossible not to be suspicious. Especially if there was a trauma.

She could understand words with that feeling.

Finally, when she understood everything, she was relieved to breathe.

(I see. Oh, that was good. That was it.), she thought.

Yata did not doubt her or hate her.

"I said a terrible word and left the hospital room, but I immediately regretted it. Kusanagi-san scolded me. They all did. I thought I would apologize soon, but you had a fever and you were resting..."

Yata began to babble again.

"I thought I would wait until you were okay, but yesterday and today you were the same, so… in other words…"

"I made you worry..."

"That is not a good story."

Still, Yata went to the women's dormitory.

Not just to apologize. Perhaps he was very concerned about her body.

The gentle and eager Yata. Even in the case of a burn, he protected her in an overprotective way.

She smiled when she saw her left hand, which had been completely healed.

"Well, I think it's a story."

"Eh…?"

Yes. That was a good story.

Because at that moment, Yata remembered him at the hospital, right? The sadness when Fushimi left. Anger and suffering. The feeling of loss.

That's why he took it out on her.

So, huh? Why did she remind him of that? Isn't it because she thought she was like Fushimi?

It was natural to be by his side. It was very important. She didn't want to lose him.

That is why she was terrified and distraught.

She hears that.

Was that a convenient interpretation for her? Excessive shyness?

No. She could take a hundred steps and it would still be fine. Still, she was happy!

(I'm happy, Yata-kun. I'm glad I can feel relieved from the bottom of my heart.), she thought.

Because he didn't suspect her. She was not untrustworthy. He did not dislike her.

Yata was still the kind and dear Yata.

"Ah…"

(That's what makes me happy!), she thought.

When she took her hands off the futon, she picked up Yata's clothes.

"Uh..."

"Forgive me. I'm not angry. It was sad and it hurt, but most of all, I didn't understand the meaning. I'm glad you spoke..."

"I…"

"So, huh? Yata-kun... If I recover, will we play again...?"

Yata raised his face.

"Eh…?"

"Ah, play?"

"Of course. But that's..."

Yata got confused and shook his head.

She knew what he meant, because it was about Yata.

That was not compensation. Did he mean that?

But Yata, once again, they haven't asked him to pay, right?

Nothing has been done.

"Yata-kun. I will not leave, I will not betray you, because I no longer want to lose someone important to me. Remember that. I also lost everything once."

"That is to say…"

"Is it okay to be by my side? I want to be by your side... will you let me stay?"

"Ah…"

Yata's face was distorted as if he was crying.

Is it because he didn't want her to see him ​that way? Yata quickly grabbed the hat and lowered it to hide his eyes from her.

"Obviously...!"

She pretended not to know that the little voice was shaking.

How long had it been? For a long time, they were silent.

She fell silent and they remained together, almost motionless.

Oddly, the silence didn't bother her. However, the time passed peacefully.

She thought that the moment when nothing happened was very important.

She reached for Yata's clothes again, drowsy from the warm light.

"About Fushimi-kun…"

When she put on her clothes, Yata rolled his shoulders.

The line of sight that followed seemed terribly awkward. With confidence, just with that, she could see how much that case affected Yata's heart.

She hoped it would be resolved one day, anyway.

She thought that the important thing was not there. It was not necessary for him to understand. He didn't have to go back to normal. She thought it would be fine. Well, Yata's ideal might be to go back to the old relationship.

However, he was still trapped alone not knowing anything. She wishes he could get out of that situation. She thought that only that was different. That alone would be enough to save Yata.

"Do not give up."

"......!"

Speak clearly. She couldn't say anything more and fell silent.

As if Yata always did that, so did she.

"Don't give up, it's not good."

(Don't stop understanding each other. Even if it's painful, never give up.), she thought.

Kamamoto, Suoh, Kusanagi, Totsuka, and they were all next to him.

The moment it surrenders, it will break. It will never be like before.

She gave up and escaped earlier.

"Please don't make my mistake, Yata-kun."

"Ah!"

At her words, Yata distorted his face and moved his mouth as if he was about to start crying.

But no words came out.

The way he was, he bit down on his back teeth and lowered his head again.

"Stop saying that."

A terribly small voice. When she twisted her neck, Yata stared at her.

Her eyes were warm without fluctuation, and her heart made a loud noise.

"I'll tell you appropriately..."

"Yata-kun?"

"Get well soon."

Yata's soft words, which reddened her face, struck her gently.

"Did you eat at noon?"

After that, she was silent for a while and thought about each one of them, but suddenly Yata looked at the clock on the wall and said that.

"Oh, by the way... I haven't eaten..."

"Are you hungry? Should I do something?"

"I want to eat fried rice."

"Eh?"

When he remembered that he did it earlier, Yata opened his eyes.

"It's good for when you feel bad."

"The one you made earlier was delicious."

"I'll do it if you can eat it... But what about the ingredients?"

"Oh, it might not be possible."

She meant, what was in the fridge? For the past two days, she had only eaten yogurt and jelly, which Kukuri brought for her.

When she said that, Yata moved to the front of the refrigerator and looked at it.

"Seriously, there is almost nothing. Yogurt, jam and fruit. And eggs and cold rice?"

Having said that, when he took off his school uniform, Yata looked at her and gave his usual awkward smile.

"Turn it into egg porridge. I'll go back to making fried rice when you're okay."

His words made it even more painful. The hot feelings seemed to push her chest up.

The hot egg porridge made by Yata was delicious.

She had no appetite until a little while ago, but it seemed to be written on her stomach.

She was happy, and her smile naturally overflowed.

"Thank you, I am happy."

"I will do it anytime."

When she thanked him while she smiled, Yata blushed.

"Get well soon."

"Yes, of course."

Yata gave her an awkward smile.

It was like a miracle.

She realized that happiness was such a thing.

She smiled back and chewed on the wonderful "every day."

The next day, she was completely relieved and she went to school for the first time in a long time.

"Saya-chan! You finally came!"

Kukuri-chan! Sorry for worrying you! Thanks for everything!"

She jumped onto Kukuri's chest with both hands spread.

"Konohana-san, are you okay?"

"Isn't it better to rest still?"

"Gohan. Are you okay?"

"Shiro-kun, Yatogami-kun, Neko-chan! I'm fine! Sorry for worrying you!"

When she smiled, everyone breathed like they were relieved.

"I heard this year's cold is bad."

"But I feel like I hear that every year, with a fever."

In pollen season, you hear every year how many times more pollen flies than last year, right?

"But this is credible, because my man from the festival is resting."

(Huh? Festival man?), she thought.

They all point to the window at the same time.

Kamamoto was sitting there alone. Eh? That person?!

When she told everyone, "I'm sorry.", she ran over to Kamamoto.

"Good morning, Kamamoto-kun!"

"Oh, yeah. Is your body okay?"

"Yes. Sorry to worry you. What about Yata-kun?"

"He has a fever and is resting. He caught a cold."

Well, that was... too many thoughts went through her head and she suddenly screamed.

"Oh, that's right. I got infected and infected him."

She looked up and blocked for a moment, then looked at Kamamoto, who seemed bored alone, and tilted her head.

"I want to go see him after school, can you help me sneak into the men's dorm?"

"What? Good, but... Yata-san, he will jump."

"Eh? He will jump and he will be happy?"

"Does not mean that."

She wondered if she was being impatient and going too fast. She wondered if he would turn bright red and flutter.

She knew the way of him to act.

She smiled and clenched her fist.

"No problem, I like that side of Yata-kun!"

Also, she was very happy with yesterday's visit, and she was relieved to understand the situation for which he apologized, but because of that she felt that she wanted to give back because they hurt him in vain.

"I will gladly take you, Konohana-san."

"Thanks!"

So, at night, with the help of Kamamoto, she unknowingly visited Yata's room.

Yata, who screamed, closed the door saying, "Wait two minutes, wait a minute!", but she couldn't wait quietly in the hallway of the men's dorm, they might discover her in the first place.

If he had a fever and was trying to get rid of her, it was outrageous. It wasn't a joke, so she pushes the door aside...

Then, the "superhuman strength" activated well, and when she opened the door, she pushed Yata, who stood with a bright red face, into the room and it was worth taking care of him.

The school festival was only two weeks away.

In order to enjoy the preparation together, they had to be cured as soon as possible.

++++++++++

"What? Christmas party?"

"Yes. I wonder if the red club will do anything for Christmas."

Yata and Kamamoto looked at each other when she said that while closing their PDA.

The school festival was the most enjoyable, including the preparation period. It was too much fun.

Preparing for a class show and preparing a position at the red club. She was very busy at the same time, she wasn't saying she wasn't in trouble, but even now, she remembered having fun. Not only her, everyone smiled and had fun.

Yes, she smiled herself, although the case of being trapped in the warehouse was not solved.

She was afraid to think that malicious intent was hidden somewhere. She couldn't help but be afraid, but Yata was there.

She was sometimes too busy to find the criminal, but thank you all, she thought it was not so much.

When it came to festivals, the red part was still going strong. The post was a great success. On the first day, the prepared quantity ran out early. She significantly increased the number from the next day, but they were all sold out.

After the school festival, it was grandly opened at the "HOMRA" bar.

It was fun.

However, after having fun, the "student book" always arrives.

The scope of the final test had been announced and the preparation period began.

As usual, if they got a red point, they would be banned, so this time too, the red club will work as one to pass the test. By the way, they were heading to the library.

"Let's go quickly, Konohana-san."

"Eh? Yes? I heard from Kukuri-chan that the Christmas party is organized by the Silver Club, right?"

"Oh, that's right. Is that what they're doing at the Himmelreich?"

"Yes. That's right. Would you like to go with me? You were surprised. The Silver club has an airship. Every year, we have a Christmas party in that airship."

"Oh. At the moment, the organizer is supposed to be the Silver club that owns Himmelreich, but the student council and the Blue club are really in charge. The participants are the Silver club and the Blue club, the student council, students. generals invited by its members and general students who won the lottery. Some teachers. It's a lot of people and it seems to be great every year. The food is amazing and luxurious."

Perhaps Kamamoto's interest was at the end, because he was so strong.

"Last year we had a Christmas party."

"Oh, after all? That's true. You said you had a Halloween party too."

"I see. Then let's reject it.", she thought. It was a bit disappointing, but she would like to participate in the Red club area.

When she said that, Kamamoto frowned, "Okay?"

"…? It's okay?"

"You can't do it with the intention of participating, I think you'd be an ant going there, right?"

"Eh? Aren't you exaggerating? I haven't decided yet or something. Okay, but I'd like to participate with the Red club."

"That would be nice. I see. It's Christmas. We'll be there. So, I should avoid the red dot anyway. I can't be a hub."

"That's right. Good luck. Christmas without you would be boring."

"That's right. Let's do our best, Yata-san."

Kamamoto looked at Yata.

But Yata didn't answer that... that is, didn't he ask? While he was thinking of something, he coughed, "Yes. Christmas. Let's do that at Christmas."

She and Kamamoto looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"Yata-kun?"

"Yata-san?"

"What?! What is it?"

What was that line?

"I'm thinking about it. What's wrong with you?"

"Hmmm, nothing!"

Yata shook his head with the feeling that it was all "yes".

When that happened, she was irritated.

When she looks at Yata, she smiled.

"Well then. What are we going to do at Christmas?"

"What?! I don't understand! I don't know anything!"

"Yes. I agree. So, tell us what you were thinking now."

"Nothing!"

"Yes. I understand that. That's why I'm translating ..."

"Konohana-san, please forgive me in that area..."

Kamamoto sighed and put his hand on her shoulder.

And in that moment…

"Check it out..."

A secret voice crept into her ears.

She suddenly stopped and looked around her as if that voice invited her.

Down the hall. The boys who were listening shook their shoulders and ran off the moment their gazes met.

"……?"

When he turned his neck, Kamamoto coughed, "Now...".

"Do you know them?"

"A little. It's bad. I remembered what I was doing."

"Eh?"

Kamamoto took out the PDA.

"Yata-san. I'll be back first."

"Eh?"

"Konohana-san. See you later."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. See you later."

When she waved her hand, Kamamoto also turned around and ran back the way he came from.

She turned her eyebrows and looked back at Yata.

"What happened?"

"Let's go."

Yata turned around.

"Mainly, I'll find it."

Some days after. She checks it out when she to see Totsuka at the Purchasing Department at noon. So after all, it looked like there would be a Christmas party at the Red club this year too.

"There is also Konohana-san. There is no reason not to."

"Uh, I'm happy! Great!"

When she laughed and clapped her hands, Totsuka patted her head and said "Okay."

"At that time, I think I can give you good news. I look forward to it."

(Good news? What will it be? And did he say it now?), she thought, but interpreted it as a small Christmas present.

With excitement in her chest, she gave Totsuka a big smile again.

"Yes! I'm looking forward to it!"

++++++++++

Bar "HOMRA".

The interior, which was always elegant and calm, was decorated in Christmas colors and was very beautiful.

The Christmas lily, which was large enough to look up, was pure white. The hanging ornaments were all white. However, only the large tied ribbon was crimson. It was terribly vivid to the eyes.

The lively Christmas song was playing in the store.

Kusanagi made a lot of English-style Christmas cookies, and they all got together.

This was her first time, but unlike Japanese cookies, English cookies had decoration on both sides. And the one with the middle cylinder was the winner. He had a paper crown, various items, and a sheet of paper with Christmas cards and jokes.

They played with it while saying something, enjoying the Christmas food from Kusanagi's hands, they played, talked, laughed and talked more.

Of course, no one was out of place with a red dot.

The Red club always tries its best to play. She thought they all worked hard to play.

She felt that he was appreciating the time he could spend with her friends and she liked seeing them all like this. She was glad to be a part of it.

What was a bit concerning is that Yata was a bit quiet. He was always at the center of the confusion.

He seemed like he was not eating well.

But when she said that to Kamamoto, he said, "Okay. Don't worry. No, pretend you don't know. He's nervous."

"Saya-chan, are you eating?"

"Yes! I ate a lot! The meatloaf was too tasty! Kusanagi-san's food is too tasty. I can't doubt it. Oh, I'm getting fat..."

"Yes. We're going to get a little fat."

"What the heck! I absolutely hate it!"

"Ah! Do you want to go home for the New Year’s holidays? Are you coming to eat osechi and ozoni? The store itself is closed, but hey, these guys are definitely coming."

"Of course. I will come."

"It doesn't matter what you cry. Do it right."

Kusanagi laughed and hit her with a pop.

"What? Are you making Konohana-san cry, Kusanagi-san?"

Totsuka smiled and sat down next to her.

"That is correct. It is a tremendous temptation."

"Eh? Don't be bad. Kusanagi-san."

"As a man, it is natural to persuade a pretty girl. There is no reason to complain."

Kusanagi laughed like a bad boy and left.

After saying goodbye with a smile, Totsuka squeezed his face.

"You know what? Konohana-san. About that matter…"

"That matter?"

"You were harassed before the school festival. You were trapped in the warehouse, right? We found the criminal."

"Eh?!"

She gasped at the unexpected words that she didn't expect.

She yelled a bit and looked at Totsuka seriously.

"Eh? The criminal?"

"Yes. Kamamoto noticed and contacted me. So, with the help of Fushimi, the email they sent you was rescued from the broken PDA at a later date. We also found out that it was sent from a PC."

"……!"

"I questioned the boy and confirmed everyone involved in the mischief."

"Ah…"

"Who was he?"

But before he answered that question, Totsuka put his index finger to his lips and sealed them. When he opened his eyes, Totsuka smiled and shook his head.

"I'll come back to that later. At the moment, you got a lot of attention from the Red club."

"......"

"For that? It's a reason."

Totsuka smiled like he was in a little trouble.

"Because it's a red dot in the red part."

"Eh?!"

The unexpected words surprised her.

The only red dot of the Red club, then?

"You said you wanted to join the club, but you couldn't. You didn't choose. You were very sad, you wanted to join a club, you wanted to get closer to the members, but that didn't come true. You didn't. We didn't have a female member, so he was convinced you couldn't get in because you were a woman until spring. But you got in. The first female member of all time. Surrounded by longing and sheltered people. He was jealous, frustrated, so, he talks to his friends, and it seems like they were getting excited."

"......"

"He didn't mean to hurt you. He wanted to annoy you a bit. That's all. He was shocked when an ambulance came. He said he was sorry. But he was jealous."

"Actually…"

"Kamamoto remembered. Last year, the boy wanted to join the Red club in addition to himself. So the other day when I saw the boy's eyes on Konohana-san, I thought maybe that was it."

"So you were correct?"

"Yes. I also saw his face and remembered. It is true that he wanted to join the club last year, but he couldn't take King's hand."

"……!"

In the spring, Totsuka said it was a rite of passage.

She remembered the hand he showed her, shining Homura's flame.

"Is that all? He thought it was unreasonable. He seemed to interpret that he was rejected because he was pointed out that he could not do it. So I thought, 'he was not chosen'. But no, we do not do that. Kamamoto also said to the boy: 'But Konohana-san didn't even doubt it'."

Totsuka laughed.

"Yes. That was the decisive thing that differentiated Konohana-san from him. It didn't matter if Konohana-san was a Strain or something. Konohana-san trusted us. That made the difference."

"Senpai..."

"You will finally ask a question."

After Totsuka looked at her, he softened his eyes from her.

"Do you want to know about that child? If you want to know, I will tell you the class and the name. Will he also be punished? If Konohana-san wants, he will be punished."

"What punishment?"

When she took a breath at the harsh words, Totsuka simply said, "It's natural."

"He hurt you."

"But!"

"At least I think Konohana-san and Fushimi have the right to punish him."

"......"

But that was...

Reflectively, she shook her head.

No, it wasn't right. She understood that what Totsuka said was also correct, but...

"It bothers you?"

"Yes!"

Totsuka's words were very important.

"I don't like it. It's not about having rights or anything like that."

"You don't want to punish him? Did you have that goal?"

"Yes, but..."

She really understood that person's feeling of envy.

Totsuka smiled at the words.

"I think I can do anything if you don't want to lose this place. No. I can do it."

That was why this was an irreplaceable place for her.

"This place is the 'best' to spend time with my friends."

Thus, she could understand the feelings that he painfully yearned for.

With a pong, one hand rested on her head.

Looking back, Kusanagi's mischievous smile was there.

Everyone laughed as she looked around her.

Suoh was also looking at her sideways.

And the moment her eyes met, Yata showed an awkward smile.

His dedicated, straight line of sight was unbreakable.

Her chest warmed.

That was all. She had a "miracle". She couldn't help but be a little jealous. Rather it could be natural. Because actually, this place is the "best" to spend time with friends.

She smiled a little and looked back at Totsuka.

"I don't have to know the class or the name. I don't want any punishment. If he won't do it anymore, that's fine. That's enough."

"Yes, then I will tell him."

Totsuka laughed softly.

She, too, smiled back at him with a warm feeling.

Outside the window, pure white snow flew in the indigo sky.

"It's okay?"

"It's okay!"

Yata replied with a loud voice that made the volume adjustment stupid.

She instinctively looked at the choked attitude he had when he was on the red side.

A night road with white snow.

As expected, Christmas had arrived. The illuminations were gorgeous and there was still no sign of sleeping in the city.

The way home from the party. Two people were walking down the path to the bedroom.

"Eh? Kamamoto-kun? Oh, Kamamoto-kun stayed at the bar because he helped clean it up."

"He told you to help him too, right? There, he was forced to chase you, saying, "It's okay because it's okay"."

After leaving the store, Yata kept quiet and looked more serious than during the party, and when she was worried about it she asked, "Are you okay?"

Well, if he could make such a strong voice, it would be really fine.

(But what happened? He was really weird today, right? Is there something that worries him? Oh, but Kamamoto-kun said he was nervous, right? Something... Oh! Maybe's the new headmaster of the red club? Will Totsuka announce it at the beginning of the year? Is that it?), thinking about that, she was walking at the time.

Yata stopped suddenly.

When he looked back, wondering, Yata looked at her for a moment and then fell silent, then opened his mouth as if he had decided something.

"I'll only say it once!"

"Eh? Oh, yeah."

She wondered what it was.

As she bowed his head, she was still searching and obediently waiting for Yata's words. This was also the "only time" that he did not come easily.

He could make his face turn bright red and scratch his head, or he could swim his eyes blazing, or suddenly pass out in agony. Just do that or nothing.

(Oh, Yata-kun? Is it snowing? It's really cold though.), she thought.

But somehow she couldn't say "make it faster" so she silently waited for the words.

How long should she wait? When it was colder and harder to stand silently, Yata finally looked directly at her. It was like a challenge.

His eyes with hot flames caught her.

"I like you...!"

"Ah...!"

A shaky and hazy voice seemed to have been desperately squeezed out.

But it pierced her heart more vividly than any word she had ever heard.

She involuntarily held her mouth with her hand.

She got those words from Yata, who was extremely shy... she got it... There was no question.

It was inspiring and so hot her chest ached. Of course, her face was almost on fire. She could no longer feel the cold. That margin had vanished somewhere.

"Ah...!"

The tears were overflowing.

And it was Yata who was scared. When he yelled, "Wow!", her eyes shed tears.

"Wow, too bad! I made you cry..."

"It's different. Not bad. I'm sorry..."

She had no more words.

She knew he was misunderstood, but she couldn't hold back the tears and covered her face with both hands.

"Ah!"

She was very happy.

It was a miracle to her, she was a "monster" a year ago.

The more painful it was, the hotter her chest became. The joy that filled her took her breath away. She was going to drown. She was so happy that it made her want to scream.

It's not that he was anxious, overprotective, and unreliable, but that he was compassionate, masculine, direct, big, and kind.

He always ran to her first, or he would walk away in shame.

Yata, who ran in front of everyone, was the coolest and most trusted. But he couldn't speak well to girls, and he would soon turn bright red and get embarrassed.

With Yata everything was fun, interesting, warm and very comfortable.

"Ah!"

His carefree smile was nice, but she also loved to see him laugh in a complicated and awkward way.

Since the spring, Yata was in everyone's memory of her.

(Oh, that's right. I can understand a little about the feeling of wanting to harass. If Yata-kun was stolen from me, I might even harass him. Because I don't want to leave him, or this place where everyone is.), she thought.

"Ah…"

"Well don't cry. Don't cry. I wonder..."

Yata's voice that seemed to be in trouble made her laugh.

"What? Hey..."

"Ah... it's true..."

He didn't even know why she was crying. She also liked that side of Yata.

She wiped away her tears, laughed and said it.

Just a few words, but they were important words.

"I like you too!"

"......!"

"I understand that I am so happy and crying..."

"Ah…"

At that moment, he hugged her so tightly that she couldn't breathe.

"Ah! I'm so happy, I will die of happiness...!"

"That's my line, Yata-kun."

She was too happy, she was scared, because she had more than a "miracle".

Was it really good? She could be happy.

She thought so, but she could no longer put that happiness aside.

She couldn't even imagine a life without Yata.

She silently felt Yata's body temperature, with great happiness.

However, for a time, he took such a bold action. Yata seemed to have returned to himself immediately, and the next moment, he screamed again and released her.

He apologized for a while saying "Wow, too bad!", but she didn't want him to apologize for that.

It was brief, which is why she found it disappointing.

Although she frowned, Yata's carefree and innocent smile couldn't be followed by a grumpy face, she relaxed and laughed.

"Hurrah!"

Yata held his fist with a bright smile before her.

"It was the best Christmas present!"

Yata's words suddenly exploded.

(But that's my line. A gift that's more than a "miracle", thank you!), she thought.

"First visit of the year to a shrine. Come on."

"Yes."

"Let's go to HOMRA to eat New Year's dishes."

"Yes."

"There are no special events in January, but let's play a lot with everyone."

"Yes."

Yata stepped forward holding her hand. The answer was short, she was nervous.

But that was enough to warm her heart.

She laughed and looked up at the indigo sky with white snow.

"If it stacks up, I want to have a snowball fight."

"Okay."

"Ok, let's go."

He takes out the PDA and check the time.

"I guess they got mad."

"Ah…"

Yata sighed.

The time for the bedroom curfew was past, Yata sighed, but he didn't seem to be in a hurry.

She was very happy about it. Because it was Christmas, and she still wanted to be with him.

When she laughed, she felt terribly happy and held Yata's hand.