#and I was immediately like 'I have a Sarumi ask for this time to think about AUs :D'
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
ridiasfangirlings · 3 days ago
Note
So I was listening to my mom tell a story of how she mistook my grandpa for my dad and ended up in an embarrassing situation and now all I can think of is Fushimi/Yata and Munakata XD
So imagine Yata and Fushimi are dating and everything is going great, he’s hanging with the Blues, he is even getting along with Awashima and the BK (somewhat awkwardly). But for some reason one day, Yata mistakes Munakata for Fushimi and does something romantic ie kisses, touch, words (or worse maybe he decides now is a good time to tease his “BF” by pinching his tush or waist.
Idk what situation would lead to this realistically though, like maybe Munakata ends up in their apartment without his knowledge so he assumes it’s the other inhabitant, or he’s sleeping at Fushimi’s desk, or (true to my moms story) Sarumi is out shopping together and Yata sees Munakata from behind and they’re wearing similar outfits so Yata just assumes. Thank you!
Can you imagine Yata if he kissed Munakata accidentally, he’d have to wash his mouth out with soap immediately XD Imagine Fushimi and Yata are dating and while they share an apartment Fushimi does retain a room in the S4 dorms in case he needs it. One day S4 is dealing with a particularly major issue and Fushimi isn’t able to come home, he’s busy working and probably not getting much sleep. Once the mission is over he’s still at S4 in the office working, trying to get his reports done, and Munakata shows up to tell him to go take a rest. Fushimi clicks his tongue all should you be telling me that, haven’t you been working long hours too Captain and you know you’re not a King anymore. Munakata just smiles pleasantly and says he is fine, but he insists that Fushimi at least go get something to eat. 
Fushimi resists but finally reluctantly allows himself to be moved, he’s going to go get a coffee from the vending machine and he’ll be right back. When he gets back though Munakata is at his desk and has actually fallen asleep by Fushimi’s computer. Fushimi rolls his eyes all and you were telling me to sleep. Since he can’t work he decides to go back to the dorms but maybe he also puts his coat over Munakata, because Munakata’s done that to him before (and he wants to be sure Captain knows that Fushimi saw him sleeping so Fushimi has leverage the next time he wants to argue that he doesn’t need to take a rest). 
Meanwhile Yata is on good terms with the S4 boys and he gets a text from Hidaka about how Fushimi is still awake working on reports and it might be good for someone to come pick him up so he doesn’t overdo things. Yata knows how Fushimi can be so even though it’s late he makes his way to S4. The guys watching the gate know him more or less so they let him go through, figuring Fushimi’s boyfriend came to see him. Yata heads right for the office, even though it’s been a while since Hidaka’s text he figures Fushimi should still be there. The lights are off but there’s a figure sleeping at Fushimi’s desk still, lit up just slightly by the light of the computer screen so that Yata can see Fushimi’s coat draped over them. Yata gives a fond sigh and decides he may as well wake his boyfriend with a kiss and then they can go back to Yata’s place to sleep. 
He walks over and places this gentle kiss on the sleeping figure’s lips and imagine now that he’s closer Yata thinks something is off here. That’s when the lights turn on and he hears Fushimi’s voice all ‘Captain, I need my computer—‘ and the person at Fushimi’s desk stirs all ‘oya….?’. Yata immediately falls back with a cry, Fushimi is standing there in the doorway staring and Munakata is sleepily adjusting his glasses. Fushimi asks what Yata’s going and Yata’s all ‘you—I thought that was— what the hell,’ Munakata seems to have caught on to what happened and just has the most amused look on his face, to think Homra’s Yatagarasu was on such good terms with him after all. Yata realizes who he just kissed and he’s like I think I’m gonna throw up, stumbling past Fushimi towards the bathroom. 
I can kinda see Fushimi being momentarily jealous but once he realizes that it was really a mistake he probably finds Yata’s misfortune funny, like who knew you liked the Blue King so much Misaki. Yata is just locked in the S4 bathroom desperately washing his mouth, it tastes like Blue King this is so gross. Yata doesn’t know how he can even face Fushimi’s clan now, like it is so awkward (and Fushimi’s just like that’s how it always is with Captain, you get used to it). Fushimi grumbles that he doesn’t even look that much like Munakata and Yata’s like he was at your desk wearing your coat and the lighting was bad, how was I supposed to know. Fushimi is at least a little mollified that Yata came to get him, though now he’s pouting that he didn’t get his kiss good morning. Yata’s like I can’t kiss you until I get the Blue King germs out of my mouth, Fushimi clicks his tongue and hands Yata some more mouthwash.
8 notes · View notes
aki-natsuko · 4 years ago
Note
Hey Aki! How about "I know I can change" for Gratsu and maybe also for Sarumi if you feel up to it!
"I know I can change" – Gratsu
Natsu was laid up in the infirmary…again.
   Gray’s worry assuaged by Wendy and Porlyusica’s reassurances that the Dragon-slayer would be back on his feet in a day or so and that he was out of any danger, was rapidly morphing into something darker. Because this was happening far too often. It was always Natsu who was there in the thick of things, pulling off a miracle when things got really dire, regardless of what it cost the Dragon-slayer to turn the tide of the battle. To the point where the entire guild, Gray included, always knew things were about to change when Natsu got serious. That was half of the problem, because they had started to expect it, to trust at that moment, in Natsu, and the Dragon-slayer knew that and threw himself into each fight with more determination than the last without the slightest hint of hesitation.
   Worse, he knew exactly why Natsu was willing to go so far, even before they had come to believe in him to this extent, and despite his best efforts, he didn’t know how to fix it. But he had to do something, because one of these days Natsu determination and faith in the guild wasn’t going to be enough, and it wouldn’t be the infirmary that Gray was visiting but a grave, and he couldn’t allow that to happen.
   He slipped into the room, relieved to find that it was empty as he was reasonably sure this wasn’t a conversation that Natsu was going to enjoy with just the two of them, let alone if there had been an audience. The Dragon-slayer was awake though, propped up against the pillows, and no longer blending in with them as he had when he’d first been hauled back to the guild, and he grinned as he saw the Ice Mage. At least until Gray got closer, and Natsu saw his frown, his grin instantly dimming as his shoulders came up in a defensive hunch. It was almost enough to make Gray hesitate and delay the conversation. Almost. Because at the same time, Natsu had winced as the motion had pulled on his still-healing injuries. One hand moving to press against the bandages that ran across his chest and up and around his right shoulder.
“Leave that alone,” Gray chided, as he settled into the chair beside the Dragon-slayer’s bed, and Natsu immediately dropped it with the look of a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar. “How are you feeling?” He asked, not wanting to start the conversation on the wrong foot and wanting to make sure that Natsu was up to this.
“Fine…”
  Gray sighed at the somewhat sullen reply, before deciding that he might as well get on with it if Natsu wasn’t going to cooperate, although it didn’t stop him from reaching out to grasp Natsu’s hand. Needing the contact and hoping that it would keep him calm. “This has got to stop, Natsu,” he began mildly enough. “You can’t keep throwing yourself into the path of danger like this, not even for me or the guild.”
“But…”
“Natsu,” Gray interrupted him. “You nearly died. You keep nearly dying, and I can’t… I won’t lose you.” He’d meant to say ‘I don’t want to lose you’, but it had come out stronger than he’d intended, and Natsu flinched, staring at him wide-eyed, and Gray knew even before the Dragon-slayer spoke that he had misunderstood.
“…I’m sorry,” Natsu whispered, not looking at him. “I thought… I can change, I know I can change…I…”
“I don’t want you to change,” Gray cut across the desperate words, squeezing the hand he was holding and waiting until Natsu’s eyes flickered towards him. “I want you to realise that you’re worth more than your ability to fight. That the guild… that I, won’t walk away if you don’t win or if you can’t protect us.”
   It wasn’t something they had ever properly discussed, but Gray had known Natsu a long time, had watched him grow from the child desperately searching for any sign of Igneel, to a teen who’d built a life and a family all of his own…and was scared that it would disappear too one day. He might not show it most of the time, but Igneel’s disappearance without a word had left scars on Natsu’s heart, that were only visible when he thought that he might lose someone, that he might be left behind again. It was why he fought so hard, why he was willing to risk so much to keep them together, and why their faith in him and his ability to bring about a miracle was a double-edged blade because it meant a lot to the Dragon-slayer, but it also gave him more to lose.
“I know,” Natsu protested, but there was a lack of conviction in his words, and he still wouldn’t look at Gray who sighed, before reaching out and put a finger under the Dragon-slayer’s chin, tilting his head up and around until their eyes met.
“I don’t think you do,” he countered with a sad smile. “Not really, but we can work on that. For now, just promise me that you will be more careful.” It wasn’t enough, but it was all he could ask for right now, and he could see the relief in Natsu’s eyes as he nodded a quick agreement and he bit back a sigh,
One day Natsu, you’ll believe that we’re not going to disappear on you too...
  "I know I can change" – Sarumi
    Yata wasn’t sure when the feeling of betrayal, the rage – fuelled more by hurt than anything else – had started to recede after Fushimi had left HOMRA. It felt as though it should have taken a lifetime, after all, he had walked away from everything they’d believed in, everything they’d fought for. He’d walked away from him. Yet, it hadn’t lasted as long as he’d wanted. Despite his attempts to hold onto it, to keep the fires burning by forcing himself to remember Fushimi’s smirk as he’d dragged burning fingers across his HOMRA mark, and by reminding himself that it was Fushimi who had chosen to walk away and join SCEPTER 4.
But was it?
   He wasn’t one for self-reflection that often, he preferred to live in the now and not look back. But Saruhiko had always been the one to make him look at things differently, to try and think things through, and he supposed it was right that this wasn’t any different. Unfortunately, that meant that his feelings of anger and betrayal had started to shift and change into something new, but just as raw. And they didn’t disappear completely. There were still moments when he hated him or thought that he did, and wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face and wipe that smirk off his face. But there were more and more moments when he would find himself looking to the side, expecting Saruhiko to be there and having to ask himself why he wasn’t there anymore.
And, was it really Saru who had changed…?
   He wanted to believe that it was, but he wasn’t. He knew Saru, and even though he’d tried to tell himself he obviously didn’t after Saru’s ‘betrayal’ he was beginning to realise that wasn’t true. Hell, Fushimi had tried to tell him why he was doing this, in his own stubborn, roundabout way that made no sense to anyone but him, and if Yata was honest with himself, the reasons and the actions that had followed hadn’t been out of character. He just hadn’t been looking for them, and therein lay the problem.
He hadn’t been looking.
   When had he stopped seeing Saruhiko? Was it when they had first met Mikoto, and he had been entranced and terrified by the sight of that burning bottle? Was it when he had taken the Red King’s hand to join the clan? Or was it all the moments since, when HOMRA had become his everything, and Fushimi…
Saruhiko had been left behind.
   Not intentionally, Yata could never imagine a time when he would have it deliberately, even now when part of him wanted to hate the former-red, but at some point, he had stopped watching, stopped listening. He hadn’t pushed Saru away, but he hadn’t given him a reason to stay either, and that realisation was like a punch to the gut. I was the one that changed, and I didn’t even realise. He hadn’t realised that he’d shouted his epiphany aloud in the middle of the bar, or that he’d left behind a confused group as he’d all but bolted out of HOMRA because he needed to… he wasn’t sure if he could fix this, but he had to at least say something. He had changed once, without noticing, surely he could change again now that he knew what to look for, and it might not be enough, and he doubted that it would bring Saru back to HOMRA, but he had to try and now before he could second guess himself or back out.
Saru, I’m not looking away again…
16 notes · View notes
kmorelikegay · 6 years ago
Text
rice, tea and chopsticks
Written for Sarumi Fest, Day 5: Fight/Reconcile. (it’s still the 11th here so I don’t even feel bad this time)
This is a follow-up chapter to another fic I wrote, so you may want to read that first or this might not make a whole lot of sense (it’s not that long though!)
Also on AO3 (first chapter is here).
The first time Yata wakes up in the hospital room, it is to the sight of the Blue King standing over Saruhiko’s sleeping form, lightly touching the back of the hand Yata isn’t gripping. His eyes are closed, and he’s muttering something under his breath, and if Yata concentrates through bleary eyes and a sleep-addled mind he thinks he can see airy blue tendrils drifting into the space directly above where Munakata and his injured friend are touching.
 His immediate reaction is to yank the King’s hand away from Saruhiko and demand an explanation for why he’s touching his Saru, why he’s even here, but – then he really looks at their hands again, really looks at Munakata’s face, and he looks sad, emotional like Yata’s never seem him, and then he really looks at Saruhiko’s face, and even as he watches some of its pallor gives way to a healthier-looking flush, and even the most defensive part of Yata’s brain recognizes that Saruhiko’s King must be using some healing property of the blue aura on him. His body slowly loses its grip on its fight instinct as he recognizes this, and he relaxes, letting the tiredness take over again a little, and turns back to gaze at Saruhiko’s (handsome – has he always been so handsome?) – face.
 A few minutes later, Munakata finishes whatever he is doing, and Yata hears him shift, turns to watch him break out of the trancelike state he was in, watches as his eyes open and sees the worry and fear and relief fill them all at once before he realizes he is being watched. Yata doesn’t think he has ever been this close to the Blue King, and his first thought at he meets that piercing violet gaze is that he doesn’t know how Saruhiko and his coworkers manage it if they have to be the subject of this man’s calculating eyes all the time. But he is Saruhiko’s King, so Yata has some amount of respect for him despite himself, and he forces himself to hold eye contact as Munakata begins to speak.
 “He is recovering well,” he starts, removing his hand from Saruhiko’s as he speaks. “I have helped him where I can, but I believe I have done all I can do. I do not know if they have told you, but he should be able to be released within the week,” he continues, giving Yata a soft smile that Yata thinks should look out of place with his always-professional demeanor but somehow fits him, softens him, makes him look like a concerned parent or older sibling, and Yata relaxes even more; this man is definitely not a threat to Saruhiko, and Yata hadn’t realized how much he cared about his employee. Maybe – and Yata thinks this begrudgingly, but this time with sympathy and even with understanding – maybe this man really was meant to be Saruhiko’s King. Maybe this was always who he belonged with. Yata breaks eye contact at the thought, feeling a confusing mix of contentment for Saruhiko’s happiness, and even his defection from Homra, and of jealousy, for belonging somewhere that isn’t with Yata.
 Before Yata can wallow in his thoughts too much, the man catches him off guard again with an even wider disarming smile, adding, “I think he will be safest and happiest in your capable hands, Yata-kun,” as if he can read Yata’s mind. (Hell, maybe he can; Saruhiko did always say his ability to read people was disconcerting. Maybe he’d meant it literally.)
 Either way, though, Munakata lets his gaze drift from Yata to linger on Saruhiko again, and gives his hand one last gentle pat before turning and striding to the door. Yata notices, then, that he isn’t in his uniform, is wearing jeans and a casual collared jacket instead, and he looks so different and young like that that Yata almost laughs.
 As if the Blue King knew Yata was watching him leave, he turns around after he’s pushed open the door and is standing in the doorframe and says, “I believe you have an apartment nearby, Yata-kun?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “Perhaps Fushimi-kun would be best off there until he recovers completely.” He gives Yata a knowing smile before disappearing through the door, and Yata has a moment to think about his words and his smirk, after which he feels his face flush for reasons he cannot understand. In truth, he had been thinking the same thing; but something about how Munakata suggested it gave Yata the impression he knows something Yata doesn’t. It’s a little unsettling, but not unsettling enough to keep Yata awake when he is so tired from staying up to keep an eye on Saruhiko these past couple of days (has it really only been a couple of days?) and as soon as his head hits the pillow he’d snatched from the vacant second bed in Saruhiko’s room he is out like a light again.
 Even in sleep, his grip on Saruhiko’s hand never falters.
-
The second time Yata wakes up in the hospital room, it is because his hand is being squeezed quite roughly, and he lifts his head to find Saruhiko watching him.
 It is so good to see his eyes again. It had been so good just to see his chest moving up and down with his breath that Yata thought that would always be enough, just to have that evidence that he’s alive, but now, seeing his eyes again, Yata doesn’t know how he ever thought anything else would be enough.
 They are so blue, and Yata is so breathless with relief and something else that his first words to Saruhiko then aren’t anything normal at all. Instead, what comes out is, “Oh, good. I thought you were going to let your rice get cold again.”
 Saruhiko had still been staring at him, but at Yata’s words his brow furrows and he looks down at his lap, where indeed a plastic tray stretched across the bed presents to him a bowl of lukewarm rice accompanied by a cup of tea and a pair of chopsticks. While Saruhiko takes in the food, Yata takes the opportunity to study his profile – the line of his nose, the fall of his lashes against his upper cheekbone, the cascade of mussed and unwashed and beautiful hair over the far side of his face, the part of his lips as he breathes before turning back to Yata and saying, “Misaki.”
 Yata’s grip on his hand tightens even more, and he feels Saruhiko respond with a hard squeeze of his own, and then Yata can’t help it, he falls forward against Saruhiko’s chest and lets all of the emotion that fear and lethargy have kept at bay these past two days flow from his eyes onto Saruhiko’s hospital gown. Some distant part of his mind has the awareness to be surprised when Saruhiko doesn’t hesitate, just hugs Yata to him, tilts his head against the top of Yata’s, keeps squeezing Yata’s hand with a desperate grip. It’s as if he is just as afraid of Yata leaving again as Yata is, and that shouldn’t be possible, Saruhiko is the one who’s been asleep, Saruhiko is the one who almost died, but here he is, hugging Yata as if he could disappear at any moment.
 Yata doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but it feels so good to hold each other, even if they haven’t actually talked beyond sniffles and snotty tears and desperate whispers of each other’s names. Eventually he pulls back, wipes his nose on the sleeve of the arm that isn’t still held happily hostage in their mutual death grip, and looks at Saruhiko for real for the first time since he’s woken up.
 He looks pale and exhausted, but mostly he looks hopeful, and it takes Yata’s breath away. Hope looks good on him. Hope looks beautiful on him, and Yata has to ask, has to know, so he starts, “Saruhiko,” he says, “Saru, do you – do you remember what happened? Why you’re here?”
 Saruhiko regards him a moment longer before breaking their gaze and regarding the rice and tea and chopsticks and plastic tray instead. He squeezes Yata’s hand again, nods slowly, then looks away from Yata at the far wall, but not before Yata sees that he’s blushing, and it’s cute as hell but it won’t do, not since Yata knows it’s not out of embarrassment but out of fear, and he doesn’t want fear on Saruhiko’s face, wants to put the hope back on it (hope looks beautiful on him), so he says in a too-fast rush of breath, “I want it.”
 Saruhiko’s head whips back and his eyes start searching Yata’s face for any trace that Yata is joking, just messing with him, as if he would joke about something like this – and doesn’t Saruhiko know, anyway? Doesn’t he know that he makes Yata’s heart pound, that he makes Yata feel smart and loved and needed? Doesn’t he know that he makes Yata’s life interesting, worth living – that even when they fought more than they talked, he was what made Yata get out of bed in the morning, made him look forward to the day? Doesn’t he know that for Yata, he has always, always been it?
 But he knows that Saruhiko doesn’t know, but Yata is still smiling because he will. He will. And as he leans in he sees Saruhiko’s eyes quickly cycle through the stages of acceptance – denial, confusion, anger, confusion again, and then, finally, understanding – and Saruhiko’s eyes that reflect his happiness and that flutter shut as Yata’s mouth closes in on his tell him the rest of what he needs to know.
 I want it, too.
8 notes · View notes
noirlevity · 7 years ago
Text
If I hadn’t met you.
Pairing: Sarumi Fandom: K Project Warnings: Depression. Self-Harm. Angst. Super I guess. A/N: The full finished version of my other fanfic with the same title. I was inspired by Aimer's song Anata Deawanakereba~natsuyuki fuyu Hana. 
Summary: Fushimi wakes up living like he is living a life not his own.
If I hadn't met you  there wouldn't have been 
such a heartrending clenching in my chest...but still 
If I hadn't met you  without even knowing of strength or gentleness 
I cried in the corner of the room, without seeing anything.
I don't need the seasons  I don't want to touch anything 
At this rate, it'd be all right  if I forget the name of that flower 
But in my dreams, you're laughing 
Even now, it's this way It was the metronome sound of the ECG machine that prodded Fushimi to open his lazy eyes. It started faint like a whisper and then rose to a fortissimo as Fushimi gathered himself.
A digital heartbeat it was in his ears. Resonating with the throbbing organ inside of him, it filled the stillness with life. The sound of his own breath and the stretch of his sinews settled him to reality. He caught a faint scent of disinfectant with a mix of the sweet smell of lily flowers in the air. It made him scrunch up his nose like a baby who had just woken up from slumber. This was his first breath after coma, so to speak. His hands trembled as he tried to move it as if testing whether he was really awake or not. He momentarily forgot the darkness that cloaked around him.
He fluttered his eyelids and stared at the ceiling. The incandescent light above him looked unsettling. The white wall backdrop looked haunting as the ECG machine continued to beat in resonance with his heart. He thinks whether  or not hearts were actually little bombs or dormant little volcanoes we carry like the thought of death in our hearts, haunting us with the thought that life could be taken as fast as it was given.
He sighs. As he closed his eyes, he felt the pressure and the folding of skin. He is alive.
Eyes adjusting to the light inside the unfamiliar place, he panicked as he realized that he is in an unfamiliar place. He felt like he’s been punched and restrained. It felt like air was slowly being sucked out from his lungs as he struggled to gather whatever was left of his composure upon the realization that he was alive.
Something in him wanted to scream, but he could not summon the voice to. He grimaced, clenched his fists, and noticed that he was on dextrose and his arm was bandaged. Everything hurt like hell. He tried peaking at his head. He saw a white  a wirelike fiber wrapped around his head. He was wearing something on his neck too.
Now he was hurting. He shifted his eyes towards the door. He could hear muffled chatter outside. The sound of footsteps tapping against the floor was barely audible, but he could hear them nonetheless. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he tried thinking how he ended up in the hospital.
There was a figure hovering outside. He was talking to someone. After awhile, the door clicked and then a tall man in white uniform entered his room.
“Oh you’re awake.”
The doctor paused for a second, adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and inquired,
“Do you know where you are right now?”
Fushimi scoured the room with his eyes.
“I’m at a hospital.”
“Do you remember how you got here?”
Fushimi creased his eyebrows. He tried to recall how and why he was at a place like that but he couldn’t.
“What’s your name?”
Fushimi couldn’t answer.
“Figured.” The doctor said and excused himself. He was going to get something.
Fushimi waited. He just lay there on the hospital bed thinking; thinking of who he was; of the reason why he was there at the hospital. 
When the doctor came back, he was told that he was suffering from amnesia. His family was waiting for him to wake up. He had been asleep for five days so it would be good news to them. Fushimi did not understand what the doctor was saying. It was too much for him to take in. When he finally met his family everything felt as if this life was not his.
Looking at the two strangers, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Insecure. He looked at the man that was supposed to be his father. He was a tall blond man. He looked like a yakuza but spoke in a gentle soothing kind of way, like he is ready to listen to whatever woes you have, and that you could tell him everything that bothers you. His mother was a gorgeous, buxom woman, blond too with pretty eyes on a face that emanated the impassive coldness of  tundra. She was clearly sleep deprived. Gazing at Fushimi, her face color with emotion. She creased her well tailored eyebrows and embraced Fushimi gently. An embrace was warm, Fushimi thinks. It was if this was the first time he felt like he was embraced like he was important; it felt like this was the first time he felt like he mattered and that made him feel troubled. The body remembers what the mind forgets. If he forgot, then why did his body also forgot? Why did everything felt so new to him?
Something was definitely wrong, and he was not stupid to not to see this. 
He wasn’t discharged immediately. He stayed at the hospital for awhile until the doctor decided that he was fit enough to go out. When he finally did, it didn’t bring him joy. If anything, he felt indifferent and empty. Yet, he went with the flow and didn’t bother to ask any questions. He accepted everything as it was, thinking that even if they were truly strangers, there was nothing in it for them if they took care of him.
When they arrived at the countryside, it amused him that they were all living in the province that didn’t seem familiar to him. He was amused at the thought he didn’t feel  anything. Nothing. Not even nostalgia.  He didn’t really care though. It was convenient—being taken care of; being brought whatever he wanted to eat; being told stories by the kids around the neighbourhood who visited him all the time to “cheer” him up because they tease that “Onii-chan is too gloomy”. They liked making him laugh, which was of course impossible so it became a game to the children. The person who will make Fushimi-onii-san laugh would be the most awesome person who will ever live.
He got used to the children’s visits and their attempt at getting him to open up to them and to finally at least smile. They asked him to teach them how to plant crops, how to do gardening, and even asked him to tell them stories. He just made stories out of thin air whenever the kids were too eager. He didn’t want to break their innocent hearts, so often, he just went with the flow.
One afternoon they were in the garden watering some crops when a child asked him something that disturbed him. 
“Onii-san, onii—san..” The youngest pestered, clinging on to his sleeve. He was a petite boy with a face that made him  look  like a girl. His  large, innocent eyes stared at Fushimi’s own intensely. Fushimi fiddled with his wrist band to hide his unease.
“What?”
“When is Misaki-onii-san coming back? Is he still coming back?”
“Yeah, we didn’t see him for quite some time and we thought that when Uncle and Aunt came back they’re going to bring Misaki-onii-san with them.” The girl said matter of factly, stopping whatever she was doing when he heard her brother’s question.
“Oi!” The eldest snapped running towards their direction, reprimanding his siblings.
“Mama said we shouldn’t bring that thing up idiots!” The other kid whispered.
“Eh? But.. but..”
“No buts..” Addressing Fushimi, the other kid continued, “It’s nothing onii-chan. You don’t need to answer their question. hehe.” The child sounded guilty. Fushimi narrowed his eyes but let it go.
Misaki? Who was Misaki? 
Eager to have his memories back and to figure out who this Misaki guy was, he rummaged through stuff inside the house to find things that would help him. 
He was told that if he was patient, he would sooner or later regain his memories back. And that’s what he’s been doing. Waiting, and writing things down on a journal. Things like what happened during the day, what he did, what he felt, and whether or not he remembered something from his past.
It was no use though. No matter what he did, he still couldn’t remember anything. It was frustrating. He also thought, that maybe there was a reason why he couldn’t remember. Maybe it was better if he didn’t remember anything at all. Maybe he forgot because his past was painful and that this was the reason why he forgot them. His mind is protecting itself from the pain and the suffering he had experienced; sparing him from experiencing them all over again if he remembers; sparing him from the truth and the lies that await him. 
---
Whenever we are aware of something, or someone, that person begins to be part of our world. Misaki was not part of Fushimi’s world, but because of the constant mentions, and the curiosity that was growing in Fushimi, Misaki was now part of it.
He dreams of him. He dreams of him screaming, “Live idiot monkey!” as they both fall. The other reaches out to hold him.  And when he finally does, a soft chuckle in between ragged breath against his cheek feels like he isn’t dreaming at all. It is as if  the feeling of falling wrapped in Misaki’s embrace and warmth is real. The sensation of skin burns.
These dreams always made Fushimi wake up with a start, sweating, and heaving as though he really did fall and his soul just returned to his body when he finally hit the ground. 
Fushimi finally found old photobooks and albums containing picture of him and Misaki together. Based from this, he gathered that Misaki was a friend. His childhood friend. They both grew up in this neighbourhood together. Being best of friends, there was no day that they were not together. 
Of the two, Misaki was the playful one; the adventurer between the two of them, while Fushimi was this quiet and shy child; introverted. The one who spent his time reading books and played by himself. 
Looking at the pictures made him remember a little. He remembered Misaki’s declaration of building him a castle and being his knight. He remembered Misaki waving his plastic sword in the air with confidence as though he was an honorable knight. Brave. Face beaming like spring opening just after winter leaves, sweeping away the loneliness and the darkness that comes with the cold, he looked like the sun.
Fushimi turned to another page. He saw a picture of both of them in an embrace. Fushimi clung to his friend hesitantly, as though he didn’t know how to react to his friend’s enthusiasm at their reunion. His parents were in the background looking at them fondly. 
He remembered that this was when Misaki left and he was thinking of the number of days that Misaki will be gone. He remembered how he fiddled with his hands, praying to God Almighty for Misaki to stay.
Flipping to another page, he saw pictures of them all grown up with others. There were with co-workers perhaps. Behind them, there was a huge name of an establishment which Fushimi figured they worked. That made him decide to go to Tokyo to learn more about Misaki.
Fushimi went to his old workplace first. He was accommodated and even warmly welcomed by his co-workers whom appeared strangers to him. When everything settled, someone came up to him, he was a slender young man with dark wavy hair. He introduced himself as Akiyama.
They talked. They talked about how it is working with Fushimi. He told him that he was efficient; quiet, a silent and effective worker. As they were conversing, he accidentally commented something like he never thought he would end up like that. Fushimi was bothered by this. Akiyama  knew that he made a mistake. He evaded further questions on the matter as much as he could.
The next place Fushimi visited was Misaki’s workplace. He met his friend’s supervisor. They talked about Misaki about how he was a great help; a great friend, and how he would always talk about Fushimi.
“It was a pity he was gone too soon.”
Drat. The storeowner cursed inside his mind. He should’ve not said that. Fushimi’s eyes widened slightly. He wanted to ask what happened. He wanted to ask why was everyone trying to hide something from him.
.
.
.
The clock struck 3 in the afternoon. Fushimi was at the park basking on the warmth of the afternoon sunlight thinking of the things that he gathered.  Misaki. His childhood friend; the boy that the kids loved to hang out with. A hard worker, simple but passionate. A friend. Lost. Gone. Forever.
Beautiful things really are the first to perish. He still wondered what could have happened and why. He touched his wrists and took off the wrist band his mother gave him. There were faint lines on its skin. Scars. He touched them and didn’t bother to think of what could have happened to him to get those. But he knew. The constant heavy feeling he carried was enough proof.
He clenched and unfurled his hand. He touched the faded lines on his wrist again. Fushimi was surprised why he couldn't cry anymore. He wondered whether or not he ever cried before or were his tear ducts all dried up from the very beginning? Was there even a use to chasing after a ghost?
Misaki. Why does everything end with Misaki? Fushimi cluck his tongue and gazed at the sky. It was beginning to dusk; time to go home.
He took something out of his backpack. It was a notebook he found lying inside his room. He didn't check it yet. When he skimmed through the pages, he found an address written in script. He went to that address. When he arrived he realized that it was the apartment where he used to live.
Standing outside his own door, Fushimi felt uneasy. His was brought back from his reverie when  he heard a click on the door. A tall man, with glasses on, and dark hair smiled at him. He looked like he was going somewhere.
“How may I help you?” The other asked.
Fushimi looked away from the stranger. He looked welcoming to the point it was ticking him off. Giving up, Fushimi decided to ask him a question.
“Have you been live here long?”
The other thought for a second.
“No. I started living here after that suicide incident.”
“The what?!” Fushimi was surprised.
“I was told that a young man.. maybe about your age tried committing suicide here by jumping out of his balcony.”
The stranger’s violet eyes settled on Fushimi.
“I heard a friend rushed to his aid and end up dying instead.”
Adjusting his glasses, the stranger continued, “Everyone had been constantly talking about the said incident the past weeks I’ve been here. It is most troubling as I am the new tenant here and hearing such incidents keep me up at night.
“Nonetheless, it is sad to think that an innocent life was lost. This is probably not my place to say this, but young man,  if you’re having a hard time, don’t hesitate to ask for help.”
Footsteps pattered louder.
“Oi, Munakata.. Hurry up!”
“Excuse me.” The stranger smiled at Fushimi.
Addressing another, he continued,  “Just a second Suoh.”
Now turning back to Fushimi,  “I’m Munakata Reishi. So what again is your purpose of coming here?”
“Nothing… I’m just..”
“What’s your name?”
“Fu...Fushimi Saruhiko.”
“Well, Fushimi-kun. I have to go now, my companion is impatient. Feel free to come visit if you like. Here is my calling card.” Reishi handed him his calling card, and left.
“Mattaku… slow.” Fushimi heard Reishi’s companion drawl lazily.
Fushimi just stood there, looking at the other as he walked away from him. Fushimi looked dumbfounded at what he just knew. He gripped on the paper that he was holding.
The wind surprisingly blew colder, making him shiver. He leaned against the balcony. He kept on staring at the piece of paper without reading.
Suicide? A friend dying?
Fushimi pressed his eyes shut. He crumpled the paper in his hand as he gritted his teeth. He remembered now. How could he ever forget? The tears started to stream from his eyes. He bit his lip to stop wails coming from his mouth as the memory of that day filled his mind.
It was an afternoon like this one. Orange light suffused the every crevice of the street, of the hallway of this little apartment which was once his. Light glistened as it peaked from behind the leaves of the trees.
---
Impatient footsteps struck against the ground. Misaki was sweating and he was feeling cold. He had been asking around for Fushimi. He hadn't been going to his job for five days already after they both had an argument about the scars on his wrists.
It made him feel worthless as his friend. It made him feel guilty as well. He kept on telling myself if only he had been beside Fushimi he would have kept him from harming himself. If only he paid more attention to his friend’s suffering.
With nowhere else in mind, he decided to check Fushimi’s apartment. He didn't think that Fushimi would be there. His friend was too intelligent to go where he would be found first. 
When he arrived in front of Fushimi’s door, he didn't hesitate, he called for his friend but no one replied.
Fushimi was inside. He didn't reply because he was wearing his earphones, and his music was on full volume. This was the end. This was the end of his suffering and he chose to be accompanied in his last moments by his favorite song.
Misaki was pounding against his door, screaming his name at the top of his lungs. The neighbors were pissed off. Asking him to stop. He remembered that there was a certain place Fushimi always left his keys, and it was in a plant just outside his door. He checked it and the key was really there. He was able to enter inside. By the time he entered, he saw Fushimi standing on the balcony, about to jump.
Fushimi didn't know what came to him that when Misaki shouted his name at the top of his lungs, the song blasting in his ears was muted, and the only thing that he heard was Misaki’s voice screaming his name.
He turned around and stared at his friend. Why was he there? Why.. of all people was he there? The emptiness in Fushimi's heart didn't allow him to feel things. He felt nothing as he gazed at Misaki. His eyes grew wide and he laughed hysterically. He didn't know why he was laughing.
“Saru… come down from there!”
“Why? Didn't you abandon me already Mi-sa-ki? Why are you acting like my friend now?”
Misaki bit his lip. He was guilty as charged.
“Go to that foolish boss of yours. I don't need you here!” Fushimi bowed his head and clenched his fists.
Misaki took a step closer.
“Don't come! Stay there. Or I’m really gonna jump!”
“Saru… please… don’t.. Come down from there idiot!” Misaki bit his lip as he trembled. He was in the verge of tears.
“Please.. I’m sorry. I’m a useless friend.”
“Misaki.” Fushimi smirked maniacally. He didn’t feel anything. He didn’t really care about anything. He scratched the left clavicle in a desperate need, as if this was going to compensate for his lack of feeling.
He looked at Misaki. He felt it again, the emptiness, the uselessness of being alive, unloved, and unwanted.
“Misaki, it hurts. It really hurts.” Fushimi cried. Pressing a fist to his chest, he broke down sobbing as he stood there ready to die. He raised his head. And then, with a last smile, he jumped. Misaki rushed to his aid and they fell. As they fell, he heard Misaki shout,
“Live idiot monkey!” It was the only thing he heard him say as everything went dark.
——
Fushimi woke up in the hospital. When he opened his eyes, he saw his mother’s worried face. It was unusual to see any emotion in her beautiful countenance.
“We heard that you fainted. So we rushed all the way here. Mattaku. Don’t scare us like that!”
Fushimi exhaled. It was difficult for him to speak while holding back his emotions.
“I… I remember everything now.”
His parents looked at each other in disbelief.
“I remember everything now. I killed him. I killed Misaki.” Face contorting in pain, he sobbed softly.
“I killed him. I killed my best friend! I should have been the one who died. I’m sorry.. I’m sorry for taking him away from you. I deserve to die!”
“Shush.. it wasn’t your fault..” His mother embraced him.
“What happened was out of your control.” 
“Fushimi.” His father embraced him too. The feeling that spread throughout his body was warm.
“We love you as our own child. Please don’t think that you are less than you truly are.”
“Look.” His father made way for the others who came to visit him. He saw Akiyama, and his co-workers at his former job.
“You are loved. And we hope that you wouldn't beat yourself up over Misaki’s death, and live the life he would want you to live.”
Fushimi sobbed, as he realised that he wasn’t fighting a battle alone.
3 notes · View notes
brynne-lagaao · 7 years ago
Text
(Fanfic) Set in Stone - Chapter Fifteen
Title: Set in Stone
Pairing: Sarumi
Chapter: 15/18
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.
It wasn’t too late when Yata woke on the morning of the solstice – at least, not compared to the day before. Well before noon, anyway.
For once, Fushimi – Saruhiko, he had to remind himself, with a tiny rush of triumph from the previous night’s success – was still asleep too, breathing heavy and even against the back of his neck. Yata couldn’t help but smile a little at the sensation. It was sorta nice to wake up to, despite the discomfort of being crammed into the same bed. One of Saruhiko’s arms was slung carelessly over him, probably something that had happened during the night since they’d started out back to back, and their skin was in contact. It was too hot and Yata’s knees were hanging off the edge of the bed, but he still liked it. It was… intimate.
They’d fucked again when they got in the night before, reaching for each other in unspoken consensus immediately after the door had shut behind them. It had been slower and less urgent than the previous night, but just as amazing; the feeling when their bodies joined brought out a deep satisfaction in Yata. Not just the physical sensation of Saruhiko moving inside him, but… Well, it was hard to explain.
He liked it, though. A lot.
Guess it has been a while. Not just for sex, but the little things, too – like waking up next to someone. It was a really good feeling.
It was clear out again that day, too; Yata could tell by the light streaming in through the little window above them. If they were doing any more charging, it probably would’ve been a good time for it.
The thought brought the stones back to the front of his mind; without really considering it, he reached under his pillow and slid the moonstone free, moving slowly to try and avoid jostling Saruhiko. It was smooth against his fingers as he rolled it absently in his hand, watching the light catch against the ice-like cracks within. He could feel the sun’s power within it, warm and inviting, and it seemed to give that glitter less of a sharp edge – more welcoming, even as it maintained its cool beauty.
For some reason, he felt like he was gonna miss having it when they had to hand them back in. It set off a little pang in his chest just thinking about it.
Saruhiko shifted behind him, a low moan muffled against the pillow behind Yata’s head, and the arm draped against his side moved sluggishly. A huff of warm breath hit the back of his neck, making the fine hairs rise up, and then Saruhiko was mumbling out a sleepy-sounding, “What are you doing?”
“Huh? Nothing.” Yata closed his fingers around the stone, cutting it off from view, and tilted his head to try and aim a smile over his shoulder. “Morning.”
“Mm.” Saruhiko sighed again, breath ghosting along Yata’s skin again, and then he shifted again, hand bracing purposefully on Yata’s abdomen so that his fingers teased the line of his underwear. “Morning,” he drawled, low and throaty with sleep but still carrying that teasing undertone.
Yata couldn’t have stopped the lazy grin spreading on his face if he’d wanted to, reveling in the beginning prickle of arousal as his body responded.
This was an invitation he wasn’t about to turn down.
After they’d finished and cleaned up, Saruhiko asked him, “Does the Captain ever ask you to work on the solstice?”
“Nope.” Yata stepped into his shoes, turning as he adjusted them. “I’m part of another coven, so the shit I do for him can’t get in the way of that. We don’t have a real contract or anything – I just do that stuff on the side – but he’s gotta know that’s how it is.”
“Yeah, he would.” Saruhiko frowned slightly. “There are a lot of limitations to what you can do for him, huh?” he mused, almost to himself. “I wonder how he plans to fill that gap.”
Yata raised an eyebrow. “What d’you mean?”
“Nothing.” Saruhiko shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Huh.” Yata eyed him for a second longer, then shrugged it off. “Okay.”
Homra was busy when they arrived, which was more or less what he'd expected, with it being solstice. Normally they didn't do regular meet-ups unless there was a major spell-casting planned so it was kinda hard to get everyone together at once, but there were certain occasions when everyone went out of their way to be there. Both solstice holidays fit into that category - and with Homra's ruling aspect being the sun, the summer solstice was always the most energetic. So when he swung open the door with his usual greeting on his lips and was met immediately by the lively blend of sounds coming from his friends within, it was warm and familiar.
“Yo, Yata-san!” Kamamoto greeted him boisterously, and grinned when he caught sight of Saruhiko behind him. “Yo, Fushimi.”
“Still here, hm?” Totsuka added, with a smile.
Saruhiko clicked his tongue, but didn't respond. Yata offered a sheepish grin and a shrug.
“Man.” The response came from Chitose this time, who was leaning back against the back with both elbows braced on it. He shook his head, letting out a mocking sigh. “The rest of us can't bring dates, but Yata’s allowed his demon boyfriend, huh? That's favoritism for ya.”
Boyfriend. Yata shot him a frown, trying to cover the little wriggling feeling of something within him responding to the word. “Hey, not like I have a choice here!”
Chitose spread his hands in a ‘what can you do’ manner, that teasing smile still on his face. “Noticed you’re not denying the 'boyfriend' part.”
Somehow, that caught him off-guard. Yata blinked. “That’s...”
Saruhiko clicked his tongue before the silence could become more telling. “There’s only so many times you can tell a joke before it starts to get old and predictable,” he muttered. Lowering his voice even further to a tone that sounded almost dark, he added, “Anyway, I won’t be around to bother you for too much longer.”
“Ah...” It was the truth, but somehow it strung a funny, almost painful chord in Yata's chest. He cleared his throat to cover it up, and nodded, avoiding the oddly compelling urge to turn and catch Saruhiko’s expression. “R-right. What he said.”
The hell’s up with me lately?
“Well, it shouldn’t be a problem for one solstice celebration,” Kusanagi cut in smoothly. He offered Saruhiko a smile. “Consider yourself our guest this time, Fushimi.”
Saruhiko didn't respond; when Yata turned to sneak a glance, he was standing with his gaze turned slightly, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched. It was a casual enough pose for him, but with the fresh insights of the night before, somehow it now struck Yata as... really awkward. It was obvious that Saruhiko felt out of place.
If he was younger... fresh and enthusiastic and thinking the world of his newfound coven... he probably would’ve shrugged that off and tried to pull Fushimi along into his circle of friends. Assuming everyone felt like him, and just bulling ahead with his own interests...
That was in the past, though. Yata swallowed back the little rush of self-consciousness and went with his instincts. “You got the decorations ready, Kusanagi-san? We'll go on ahead and set up.”
His older friend tilted his head, a considering look in his eyes. “If you want. It’ll be a few hours yet before the rest of us can join you.”
“Yeah, it’s cool.” Yata shrugged. “We can take our time flying out there.” He grinned over his shoulder. “You’re up for it, right, Saruhiko?”
That expression he caught was that vaguely bewildered one again. It was familiar by now, but it still felt like Yata’s heart kicked up a notch or two when he saw it. He wasn't sure why, but as usual Saruhiko seemed to shutter up almost as soon as their eyes met. He reached up to push his glasses higher on his nose, momentarily causing them to catch the light and hide his eyes from view. “It’s fine.”
Totsuka let out a low whistle, breaking into the moment. “‘Saruhiko’, eh?”
“Huh?” Oh – right. Yata turned sharply, already waving his hands with a kind of flustered ferocity even as he felt warmth build on his face. He still wasn’t used to it himself, using that name, so it felt weird to have someone else commenting on it. “W-wait, that’s – that’s just – ”
“Misaki.” Anna’s quiet voice cut through his babbling. She’d crossed the room while he’d had his head turned and was now standing in front of him, holding out a box full of what looked like fresh red flowers. “Use these to decorate.”
“Oh.” It would’ve been hard to deny her anything when she offered that tiny smile, eyes seeming to shine despite the calm expression. Yata took the box, letting the rest of it go as he smiled back ruefully. “Yeah, leave it to me!”
“I’ve got the rest in the back room,” Kusanagi added. “If you’re planning to head out right away, want to grab 'em now?”
“Of course!”
He ended up leaving the flowers to Saruhiko, who didn't offer much beyond a muttered ‘why should I have to help?’ even as he took the box. The second load, which was quite a bit heavier, Yata took himself, and they set out like that.
Despite the fact that he’d talked about taking their time as they flew over, he didn’t linger in the air for too long. Not because the burden he was carrying was all that cumbersome – he’d handled worse, and for longer – but because he was anxious to settle somewhere he could actually talk with Saruhiko. There wasn’t anything specific to say, but somehow he was eager for it all the same. It was funny: even though they were together all the time, lately he found himself looking forward to those interactions more and more.
It was… weird, honestly. Things had changed a lot between them. And maybe some of it was the last few days being really intense, but in a way it kinda felt like those last few days were another symptom rather than the cause.
Still, he had no idea what the cause was. It was bugging him, like an itch he couldn’t reach to scratch.
“So?” Saruhiko asked him after they’d landed and set their burdens down at the scorched patch of land near the grove of trees that concealed his garden. “What do you do once you’re out here?”
“Decorate. Well, sorta.” Yata offered him a grin. “We can at least get the bells and flowers out so they look decent. Anna will probably want to move things around a bit when she sees it, but it’s easier than doing it all at once when she gets here.”
“If you say so.” Saruhiko looked from the boxes to the sparse trees in the area, expression dubious. “Where exactly are you planning to hang them all?”
“We got a couple of folding posts I just gotta set up – plus the trees.” Yata shrugged, setting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the area. “It’s kinda sparse and all, but the fae don’t mind as long as there’s a good party going.” At that, he smirked. “If you don’t watch out, they’ll prank you.”
Saruhiko raised an eyebrow. “I’ll manage somehow. Either way…” He raised his hand, languidly turning it up and materializing a copy of one of the red flowers Anna had given them. “If you’re worried about decorations being sparse, I can help with that.”
Yata blinked, momentarily startled, and then shook his head, smile turning sheepish. “Right, that – I kinda forgot.” Looking up from the illusion to meet Saruhiko’s gaze, he added, “You’re a pretty useful guy to have around, huh?”
Saruhiko’s eyelids lowered just a bit, lips turning up in a small, almost mocking smile – but without the usual edge. “I wonder how you’d react if you could hear yourself say that when we first met.”
Somehow, that look made his heart skip a beat. “Yeah, well things change when you get to know a guy.” On impulse – and because the feeling swelling up in his chest flooded him with the urge to do it – he took a step closer, reaching out to brush his fingers over Saruhiko’s. Even that simple contact set off the pleasant flutter in his belly, shivering through his body and along his skin.
Saruhiko blinked at him, clearly taken aback, and then shut his eyes, letting out a small, amused huff. “This morning wasn’t enough, huh?”
“Eh?” Yata frowned, puzzled – and then the meaning struck all at once and he jerked his hand back, mortification surging up fast and furious within him. “Th-That’s not what I was going for, you asshole!”
“Hm?” The little mocking hum came at the same time as Saruhiko opened his eyes to half mast, a lazy smirk on his lips. “Could’ve fooled me.” He turned his own hand, letting the flower dissipate. “Well, not like I mind.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t.” Yata snorted, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head with a kind of confused and flustered energy. Had he been giving off a vibe like that? He hadn’t thought of it that way, but maybe…
Fuck, who knows what it feels like on his end.
It wasn’t worth thinking about too much. Yata shrugged off the embarrassment, stepping back to look around again. “Anyway, everyone else will probably get here pretty quick after we finish, but if not, we can visit my stash. Or fly around, whatever.”
Saruhiko clicked his tongue. “‘Whatever’ sounds like the best option.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Somehow, that brought a fond smile to his lips. “Fussy bastard.”
Decorating went by pretty quickly. Yata was used to it after years of Homra celebrations. With his wings, he was in the best position to get things up in high places like on the trees. He arranged the various bells and wind chimes with Anna’s flowers around them, trying to space them evenly and stifling his annoyance at Saruhiko’s critical comments long enough to fix whatever didn’t look right. When he began to set up the folding posts so that more bells and flowers could be arranged around the blackened fire pit, the help he got became more concrete – additional posts, small decorative fences, and extra flowers and bells.
There was a small breeze already, so by the time they’d finished, the area had a faint musical aura – one that Yata could feel tugging at some deep part of him. The whimsical atmosphere made him feel relaxed and energized, eagerly anticipating the festivities that they were setting up for.
Plus… the setup looked great, even if he had to say it himself.
“We make a pretty good team, huh?” he commented lightly as they surveyed the result.
There was a slight frown on Saruhiko’s face. “It wasn’t a complete disaster, I guess.”
“Heh.” Yata grinned at him in response. “That sounds a lot like ‘yeah, we’re awesome’, coming from you.”
Saruhiko clicked his tongue, glancing at him only briefly before looking away. “Think what you want.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” The pessimistic attitude wasn’t about to dampen his spirits. “I’ll bet Anna won’t even have anything for us to fix this time!”
As it turned out, Anna did have a few requests, but her first action upon leaving Kusanagi’s car was to look around slowly and then turn to smile at them. “Thank you, Misaki.” Her eyes drifted past him. “And thank you for helping, Saruhiko.”
Saruhiiko looked vaguely nonplussed with that praise. He clicked his tongue. “I didn’t do much.”
“Don’t listen to him, Anna – he helped out a lot!” Yata beamed at her. “There’s a bunch of extra stuff around here thanks to him, and we don’t even have to take it down. Pretty cool, huh?”
Chitose, who’d parked his motorcycle behind them, let out a low whistle. “Sounds like your boyfriend’s got you beat when it comes to this stuff, huh?”
“Huh? Hey, I still did most of this shit!” Belatedly, Yata remembered to add, “And he’s not my boyfriend, goddamnit!”
“Sure, sure.” Chitose laughed, shrugging, and moved to help unload the purified wood from Kusanagi’s trunk, ignoring Yata’s scowl.
“You sure are lively,” Saruhiko mumbled, sounding irritable.
Yata glanced at him. “What’s wrong with that?” Without waiting for an answer, he went ahead with, “Anyway, we’re just goofing around. This shit is normal.”
Saruhiko’s frown deepened. “Not for me,” he muttered.
It doesn’t have to be for you. The words were right on the tip of his tongue, fueled by a sudden irritation, but before he could say them, Anna said, “Misaki. I want to group those bells together.”
“Oh… right.” That snapped him out of that mood. Yata turned to offer her a sheepish smile, following the line of her finger. “You got it!”
With everyone working together, they made quick work of fixing the decorations to Anna’s satisfaction and setting up both the fire pit and the tables that were quickly loaded with food. Coolers holding the drinks were set up beside them, and Totsuka brought out his guitar to begin a counterpart to the music of the chimes and bells as the sky started to darken.
Almost time, huh?
The air was thick with magic and presence even before the fire had been lit. Yata could feel the sense of familiarity and comfort settling in his bones, and stepped back away from the lively conversation that had formed around the food and drinks and entertainment to stand slightly apart, raising his face up to greet the moon for a brief moment as it became clear in the sky on midsummer’s eve.
He was happy. It was normal, being around the people closest to him, and especially on the solstice, but somehow right then he felt it more than usual. It was strange and consuming, making him feel giddy and light – as if he’d gotten drunk on his own contentment.
“Just about time, huh?” Kusanagi’s voice cut into his thoughts; when Yata lowered his gaze, he found his older friend fixing him with what looked like an appraising gaze. “I’d give it a minute or two before we finally put Mikoto to work.”
“Ah… right.” Yata grinned back, a bit sheepish at being caught drifting. It wasn’t unusual in places this close to fae territory and on holidays where their magic could be felt in the air, but he still couldn’t help it. The comment had his gaze wandering to where Mikoto lounged near the fire pit, back up against one of the posts and eyes closed as Totsuka continued to play the guitar not far from him. “Mikoto-san is always the one who ends up tending the fire, huh?”
“It’s the only job he’ll actually do,” Kusanagi noted wryly. There was a fond undertone to his voice despite the criticism; when Yata turned back to him, he was also looking in Mikoto’s direction. “Something about dealing with fire seems to suit him, anyway.”
Not that long ago, he probably would’ve responded with something like ‘because Mikoto-san is fierce and powerful like a fire’. That sense of his old self wasn’t so far off that Yata couldn’t feel the little echo of his own overblown pride and blind hero worship from back in those days – an overzealous reaction to finding a place that he could belong to and excel in. These days, he’d tempered a lot of it but the traces were still there. Despite having spoken on a personal level with Mikoto more than once and being aware that he had burdens of his own to struggle with, the instinctive sense of awe that inspired Yata’s respect and loyalty still lingered.
Because of that, he felt the need to respond with something strongly in Mikoto’s favor, even if it wasn’t on the level of his previous thoughtless praise. “Feels like Mikoto-san is someone who could win against a fire most of the time.”
Kusanagi shot him a startled glance, and then let out a brief huff of laughter. “That’s a different way to look at it.” He shook his head. “Though, if it came down to it, you may be right.” His gaze slid past Yata then, somewhere beyond his right shoulder. “Is Fushimi all right on his own over there?”
The comment had him instantly turning his head in that direction, though he already knew what he’d see. Saruhiko had positioned himself deliberately on the outside of the celebration, his arms crossed as he stood awkwardly, head turned as if he were studying something in the distance with fascination. When Yata had first noticed him doing it, he’d gone out and suggested that Saruhiko come in and join the group, which had earned him a click of Saruhiko’s tongue and a low “I’m fine out here”. Yata had stayed a couple of moments longer with the thought of keeping him company, but had eventually gotten a pointed “Didn’t you come here to celebrate with your coven?” and gave that up as well. It was like Saruhiko had decided before anything had started that he wasn’t going to have any fun, and he was stubbornly sticking to that no matter what.
If it had been a few years ago, Yata would’ve kept trying to drag him in; even now, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bubble of confused annoyance. After all, if Saruhiko just tried, or at least didn’t let Yata’s efforts go to waste… But he’d done enough of that in the past, forcing his own feelings on others, and the understanding the two of them had built was still fresh. If he stopped to think about it carefully like he was trying to do more these days, he had to admit the truth: they were similar in a lot of ways, but this wasn’t one of them.
“Don’t think this is his kinda scene,” he admitted to Kusanagi, letting his eyes linger on that cool, distant profile just a bit longer.
Despite his obvious discomfort… Saruhiko hadn’t complained at all.
“I think you’re right about that,” Kusanagi agreed, and then chuckled. “Well, at least you know he can compromise – you’d be surprised how important that is.” When Yata turned to shoot him a puzzled look, he shrugged. “You’ll probably learn it soon enough, but you know that ‘love conquers all’ is a myth, right? Sometimes disagreements run too deep to just talk out.”
Realization sunk in – Yata felt a rush of mortification surge up through him, bringing heat to his face. “Wait, wait, wait!” He waved his hands furiously. “Saruhiko’s not – not actually my boyfriend or anything – it’s – things are kind of…”
“Oh?” Kusanagi drew a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, offering a knowing sort of smile. “It’s ‘complicated’, right? I’ve been there.” He pulled out a single smoke, holding it between his fingers as he returned the rest of the pack. “Dunno if things are serious yet, but I know that look.” His smile turned a bit rueful as he fished for his lighter. “Love will either come at you hard and fast or sneak up on you to the point you can’t tell you’re hit until it’s too late. It doesn’t take long when find one that clicks.”
One that clicks. Yata frowned, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder again. “You got it all wrong, Kusanagi-san. Yeah, we’re – y’know – we’re doing it” – the admission caused another fierce heat to flare beneath his skin – “but it’s not… not that.” It felt too awkward to say the word, a kind of squirming discomfort forming within him even as he talked about it.
It wasn’t. Right?
“That so?” Kusanagi lit his cigarette, taking a long drag and letting it out before responding further. “Well, if I’m sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, don’t mind me.” He reached out to clap Yata’s shoulder lightly, offering an easy smile that was strangely offset by a serious gaze. “Maybe give it some thought before you write it off, though. Save yourself some pain in the end.”
Yata stared back at him, unable to think of anything to respond with. It felt like his mind had gone blank.
“Well, enough of that.” Kusanagi pulled his hand back, tilting his head up to regard the darkening sky. “I’d say it’s about time to get the fire going, hm?” Without waiting for Yata’s response, he stepped back and away, heading off in Mikoto’s direction.
The stunned paralysis that had struck Yata in his wake was interrupted by a nudge in his side. “Oi.” When he jerked and glanced over, startled, he found himself facing a frowning Saruhiko. “What was all this” – one slender finger reached up to tap the side of his head lightly – “about?”
“Eh?” For a second, Yata could only stare at him blankly – and then it sunk in exactly what he was being asked, and he couldn’t help the rush of flustered panic that washed over him in response. “Th-that… Nothing!” He waved his hands again with frenzied energy. “Just – just never mind!”
If anything, Saruhiko’s eyes only narrowed with further suspicion, but Yata was spared the trouble of making any more useless excuses by the soft notes of the guitar fading and Totsuka’s voice calling out, “We’re starting the fire, everyone! Come on!”
The flurry of activity around them was like a blessing. Yata cleared his throat, grinning with relief. “Right, fire time!” Impulsively, he reached out to take hold of Saruhiko’s wrist, dragging him in towards the fire pit where the others were gathering. “C’mon!”
He could hear the telltale sound of Saruhiko clicking his tongue with annoyance, but he didn’t resist.
This was the highlight of summer solstice as far as Yata was concerned. The way the flames caught on the wood and began to rapidly grow, reaching up toward the sky, made it seem like they were dancing along to the haunting music from the various bells and wind chimes set up around the site. He could almost get a sense of a soul from it, gleefully expanding and swaying as they became a part of the magic of the night. He could’ve watched them for hours.
Maybe that was why his previously frazzled brain began to calm. Watching the fire grow, Yata could feel himself settle, thoughts clearing. Saruhiko’s wrist was still held in his hand; no attempt had been made to free it, and the notion that the contact might even be welcome made him feel pleasantly warm – like the mental reflection of the heat from the fire brushing against his face.
“Love will either come at you hard and fast or sneak up on you to the point you can’t tell you’re hit until it’s too late.”
Or both, Yata’s brain appended, and it felt like that clicked things into place.
That was really it.
All the moments of feeling good in a way that he couldn’t explain…
The flutter in his belly when their eyes met…
Looking forward to being together – interacting in whatever way – even when they had nothing in particular to say, and they did it all the time anyway…
He was seriously in fucking love with this guy.
Maybe not totally. Maybe just ‘falling’ – but falling fast and hard enough to call it love, even now. And like Kusanagi had said, it had also snuck up on him. Yata felt that little tendril of something warm and thrilling spreading out from his chest – partly wonder and partly a kind of release at finally knowing. At finally admitting it. He’d been feeling this way for a while, falling for Saruhiko, and hadn’t recognized it for what it was.
I’m seriously a dumbass. Even the self-deprecating thought held too much good humor. Yata could feel the corners of his mouth edging up. He felt like laughing. Like jumping off the ground and throwing his arms in the air. Finally – finally he could place this feeling.
He was here at solstice in front of the fire, surrounded by the most important people in his life, and he was in love. It was hard to believe, but it was real.
He loved Saruhiko.
At the peak of that soaring height, Yata felt his eyes drawn to the side, the solid weight of Saruhiko’s wrist within the circle of his fingers seeming to send little sparks of warmth through him. That bubbling happiness had him nearly trembling with the expectation of Saruhiko’s eyes meeting his, sharing the understanding of that emotion he’d taken so long to identify and accepting it – maybe even returning it. In that moment, he had nothing but hope – optimism, even – that surely this was mutual. They had clicked in almost every single way, their thoughts and feelings seeming to synchronize more and more as they got to know each other. It had to be mutual.
And yet, when he turned, all he saw was the side of Saruhiko’s head, a frown on his lips and his gaze fixed stubbornly in front of him.
Confusion hit first. He… he feels it, right? All of Yata’s emotions got through to Saruhiko – that had been proven again and again. There was no way he didn’t feel it.
No way he hadn’t felt it… all of it…
All this time…
Slow, cold realization was settling. Yata felt his body still, growing awareness making the contact of his skin against Saruhiko’s feel clammy and uncomfortable. He was just figuring this out now, yeah, but Saruhiko had been feeling it through him the whole time.
The whole time, he’d known exactly how Yata had felt, and he’d said nothing.
He was still saying nothing.
Say something! A knot of dread had formed in his stomach, but he couldn’t quite release the last, desperate dregs of hope from pounding around in his chest. Yata tightened his fingers on Saruhiko’s wrist a bit, watching his face for a sign – anything. At least look at me, goddamnit!
The frown on Saruhiko’s face shifted to a grimace; he clicked his tongue, turning his head to the opposite side to further obscure his expression.
That was enough to kill the last tattered shreds of it. Yata released his grip, feeling numb to the core as he pulled his hand back and turned away. The only sensation that seemed to register across his entire body as the sound of fire crackling and bells chiming softly played in mocking counterpart to the moment was the throbbing ache that spread across his chest and up his throat.
The fall from that height was crushing, as it turned out.
2 notes · View notes
mistleto-3 · 7 years ago
Text
Always Together, Eternally Apart
Mikototsu Ladyhawke AU
Pairing: Mikoto/Tatara 
4,135 words. Content warning for canon-typical violence. Brief sarumi mention.
Happy birthday to @brokenredflames thank you for this (slightly belated, sorry!) request!! I hope you had a lovely birthday c:
AO3 | Ko-Fi
“Kill him.”
Misaki struggled against the grip of the guards who held him as the order was shouted, but he couldn’t break free. They were elite- the Special Guard, they used to be called under the Blue King, but since the rebellion their uniforms had been bleached white and they’d been forced to serve the usurper.
The one who appeared to be leader of the guards stepped forward- a grizzled man with a scar across the bridge of his nose, clearly the senior of everyone else in the group by a fair few years. His expression was blank except for the faint twist of displeasure at the corners of his mouth- it was clear he took no enjoyment in his task. He unsheathed his blade and raised it to the captive’s throat.
Before he could strike, a bolt whistled through the air and embedded itself in the guard’s forearm, and he grunted in pain, dropping his sword. Misaki’s eyes widened, his chest heaving in panic as he looked around for the attacker.
A man in black armour stood a short distance away, reloading his crossbow. His reddish hair was slicked back from his forehead, and he appeared incredibly calm, considering the circumstances. He nodded at the captive.
“You, out.”
Without protest, Misaki hurried to his side. The guards made no move to stop him.
“Suoh Mikoto,” one of the guards addressed the newcomer- the only woman amongst them, her blonde hair tied back behind her head. “I didn’t think you were stupid enough to come here.”
Mikoto merely smirked, then turned on his heel, his hand on the captive’s shoulder as he lead him away.
However, the cry of pain from the wounded guard hadn’t gone unnoticed, and more soldiers had swarmed into the area. These were simply the new King’s grunts, but there were dozens of them, and they didn’t appear to have the same good sense not to pick a fight they couldn’t win as the ones from the Special Guard. Mikoto sighed, pulling Misaki by his arm towards where his horse was tethered. He threw the boy haphazardly into the saddle, then climbed on behind him, drawing his sword as he gathered the reins into one hand and urged his mount forward. They raced out of the village, and Misaki covered his eyes in panic as they rode straight towards a gate that two of the foot soldiers were pushing closed in front of them, in fear they wouldn’t make it over.
Mikoto raised his hand to his lips and whistled, and almost like a ghost, a white bird seemed to appear from nowhere, swooping through the archway of the gate. The two soldiers stumbled back out if its path as the bird stretched out its talons as it approached them, aiming for their eyes, and they fell out of the way just in time for Mikoto’s horse to leap over the gate and gallop away down the path, with the white bird keeping pace beside them.
The pair continued a fair distance at full-speed, until the village was out of sight behind them and they’d lost themselves amongst the trees of the nearby forest. Only then did Mikoto allow his mount to slow to a trot, and they veered from the path to travel through the trees in case someone had followed them. It was at that point that Mikoto helped Misaki to right himself in the saddle.
“D-did you say your name was Suoh? Suoh Mikoto?” Misaki spoke for the first time, his voice tentative.
“Yes.”
“As in the prince of the Red Kingdom?”
“Former. I renounced my title.”
“R-right, sorry… Why didn’t those guards attack you? Why’d they just let you take me?”
“Their old King was a friend of mine. They know me, and know better than to pick a fight they couldn’t win.”
“The Blue King?”
“Mhm.”
Misaki nodded slowly. Mentioning the previous King was odd- doing so in earshot of a guard would get you thrown in a cell for the night. It had been almost two years since the old King, nicknamed the ‘Blue King’ had been unseated from the throne in a coup, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. The new ruler, the ‘Colourless King’ as he was known, was much stricter. He raised taxes, created dozens of new absurd laws and implemented ridiculous penalties for breaking them, and he was deep in the pockets of the aristocracy. Dozens of questions bubbled to Misaki’s lips at the mention of the old King- he and everyone else in the kingdom had been secretly hoping he’d make a return- but kept quiet after that, fearing he might be annoying his rescuer. Instead, he took to watching the bird, which was now circling them in wide, lazy loops as they walked through the woods. Now he could get a better look, he recognised the creature as a snowy owl, with wide, bronze coloured eyes and speckled white feathers.
“She’s yours?” Misaki asked, nodding to the bird.
“He. Yeah, he is.”
“He’s beautiful.”
“I know.”
The pair made very little conversation after that as they travelled through the woods until they found an abandoned cottage where they could stay the night. The house itself was in a poor state of repair, but its barn appeared to be standing firm, so they took shelter within it. Mikoto retired early, making it clear he wasn’t to be disturbed, then settled in as Misaki ventured off to retrieve some more firewood.
The sun had sunk past the horizon by the time he made his way back to the cottage, and the building was just within sight when he heard the unmistakable crunch of footsteps on leaflitter- footsteps that weren’t his own. Through the trees he caught sight of the dusk light glinting off a metal helmet, and he immediately took off at a run. He raced back into the barn in search of something he could use to fend off the intruder, who he could now see was a foot soldier who had managed to follow them from the village. Thankfully, their pursuer appeared to be alone.
Unable to find anything more substantial than a pitchfork to use as a weapon, Misaki threw open the door to the tack room Mikoto had been sleeping in to find him missing. Thankfully, his sword was still in there, and unable to waste time worry about where his companion had gotten to, Misaki grabbed the weapon and turned to face the soldier, who was banging on the door to the barn, which Misaki had jammed shut with a water trough.
And then suddenly, something bowled the soldier sideways; an immense shadow appeared to have knocked him clean off his feet with an unearthly snarl. It was only when the soldier and his assailant stopped rolling that Misaki saw that the dark shape that had landed on top of the man was a huge black wolf. The soldier struggled fruitlessly against the creature, but it wasn’t long before his thrashing ceased and his cries quietened to gurgles, then finally fell silent as he slumped back onto the undergrowth.
Misaki tightened his grip on the sword, relieved that his assailant had been dispatched, but now he was more concerned about the wolf turning on him. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to kick the trough out of his way and rush the creature while it was distracted by its kill. But before he could do so, a hand on his shoulder froze his breath in his lungs. He whirled around, expecting to find a soldier lifting a blade to his throat.
But instead, there was just a young unarmed man in a black cloak that shrouded everything but his face.
And God, he was beautiful. His eyes were a deep bronze colour, lined by a fan of long black lashes. Dark gold, collar-length hair framed his face- his beautiful, almost effeminate, slightly ethereal face. His skin was faintly tanned, and his cheeks were flushed pink by the cool night air.
Misaki found himself blushing as the man lay his hand on Misaki’s wrist, gently lowering his sword, and then raised his other hand to his own lips and whispered: “Shh…”
Then, his gaze fixed upon the wolf, and with slow, careful steps, he let himself out of the barn.
“D-don’t go out there!” Misaki warned, his voice hushed. “There’s a wolf- a really big wolf. The biggest wolf you’ve ever seen.”
“I know,” the man said simply, a carefree smile curving the corners of his lips as he stepped past Misaki and out into the clearing behind the barn.
The wolf lifted its head from its kill, licking the blood from its lips, and watched the young man approach fearlessly, like the beast was nothing more than a pet. The creature greeted him as though the pair were old friends, and they vanished into the woods side by side.
The next morning, Misaki decided not to mention the wolf encounter to Mikoto, in fear of sounding mad. He passed it off as likely nothing more than a vivid dream, but as they resumed their travels, he couldn’t keep his mind off the beautiful boy he’d spoken to, so instead he tried to strike up a conversation to keep his mind off it.
“So uh, so why did you save me from those guards yesterday? N-not that I’m not grateful…”
“You escaped the Colourless King’s dungeons, right.”
“That’s right.” Misaki puffed his chest out a little in pride. “First one ever to do it. Why?”
“I need your help to break back in.”
Misaki paused for a moment in confusion. “Break in…? Why the hell would you wanna do that?”
“To kill the Colourless King.”
“That… seems like kind of a tall order.”
“I have a score to settle.”
“What’d he do? Something to do with him kicking your friend off the throne?”
“He’s afraid of me. He wanted to remove me as a threat.”
Misaki didn’t miss the way he dodged the question. “He thinks you could unseat him from the throne?”
Mikoto nodded, and didn’t offer anything else on the subject, so Misaki didn’t press the topic any further.
The pair made the rest of their progress through the woods that day mostly in comfortable silence, until the clatter of hoofbeats rose in the distance, drawing nearer as a pair of Colourless soldiers on horseback rode into view between the trees. At the sight of them, Mikoto urged his horse onwards, ordering Misaki to hang on as his mount leapt forward, attempting to outrun their pursuers.
The snap of a crossbow sounded behind them, but the bolt only buried itself in the trunk of a tree a few feet away from them. And then there was another snap, but this time, it was followed by an awful shriek, and then a soft thud.
Misaki looked back over his shoulder to see the owl Mikoto kept as a companion lying on the leaflitter with an arrow through his wing. He let out another meek cry of distress, flapping his uninjured wing uselessly. Misaki felt Mikoto tense in the saddle, then with a sharp movement he spun his horse around, drawing his sword and racing at full gallop straight towards the soldiers.
They barely had time to react- the first soldier was cut down from his horse before he had the chance to nock another arrow, and the second managed to fire one, but it sailed straight over Mikoto’s head as the soldier’s horse spooked and reared at the sight of Mikoto rushing headlong towards it. A swift elbow to the gut was all it took to knock the horse’s mount from his saddle, and he hit the ground with the sickening crack of ribs breaking.
Without looking back at the soldiers he’d dispatched, Mikoto spun around and hurried back over to where the bird had fallen, leaping out of his saddle to kneel beside him. He whispered gentle reassurance to the creature, examining the wound with a tenderness that surprised Misaki.
“Get me a cloth from my saddle bag.”
Misaki didn’t think he’d heard an ounce of emotion from his companion since they’d met, but now, there was tension in his voice- he almost sounded fraught. Misaki dismounted and did as he asked, watching from a short distance away as Mikoto wrapped the bird gently in the fabric.
Mikoto didn’t speak again after that, climbing back on his horse wordlessly and nodding for Misaki to do the same. Cradling the owl in his arms, he urged his mount forwards once more at a pace that made Misaki fear they were still being chased.
They didn’t slow until the sun was sinking low on the horizon and they reached an aging castle- the wooden gates were rotting away, the metalwork was rusting, and the masonry of the towers and parapets was crumbling away.
A figure stood above the gates, looking down on the visitors, then called out for them to be admitted. The portcullis rose slowly, though Misaki didn’t think the rust-stained iron would have kept much out, and Mikoto rode into the courtyard and dismounted. The figure from above the gate descended the stairs to meet them- in the better lighting, Misaki could see him dressed in blue. His face was familiar.
“Munakata,” Mikoto said simply.
“Suoh,” Reisi replied coolly.
For Misaki, it was surreal, seeing the unseated King in the flesh- he thought he’d been killed in the Colourless King’s coup. The Blue King had been well-respected and loved by his people and had good relations with the leaders of the nearby kingdoms, so the coup had come as a shock, supported by a few rich aristocrats who had been discontent with the new King, who no longer gave them the same favourable treatment they’d always been given in the past.
Mikoto however didn’t seem in the least bit fazed by the appearance of a man who, to Misaki, might as well have been a ghost. He walked towards him, still holding the bird in his arms, and Reisi nodded in some silent understanding and lead him inside. Misaki hesitated, unsure whether he should follow, and Reisi gestured for one of the few guards in the courtyard to take him into the castle and said he was to be given food and drink and somewhere to rest for the night.
Once they were inside, Mikoto lay the owl on a table top, and stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as Reisi examined the injured wing.
“There is only so much I can do before sundown- I can remove the arrow now, but it will be easiest to treat him after…”
“Okay,” Mikoto said stiffly, walking around the table to stand the opposite side of it to Reisi. He lay his hand beside the bird’s head, and the bird nuzzled his finger as Reisi retrieved medical supplies.
“Hold him still, this will hurt and I do not want to cause any more damage.”
Mikoto nodded, doing as he was bid as Reisi snipped off the head of the arrow with a large pair of shears, then slowly pulled it out of his wing. Though Mikoto was clearly doing his best to keep a straight face, his lips twitched into a grimace at the cry of distress that emanated from the bird.
“That’s all we can do for now,” Reisi said once he’d completed his task, applying gentle pressure to the wound. “Go, it’s almost sunset. There’s a room prepared for you upstairs. He should be fine.”
Mikoto gave another nod, glancing down at the bird once more before leaving the room.  
Having been left alone for a while, Misaki was beginning to feel somewhat stir-crazy, stuck in the small chamber he’d been led to, so he decided to stretch his legs and look around. He wandered down through the castle until he found he’d come across the room that Mikoto had taken the bird into, quite by accident. But by now, his curiosity was piqued, so he pushed open the door to see how things were going.
Mikoto and Reisi were nowhere to be seen in the room, and the bird was also missing. But lying on a makeshift bed was the beautiful boy from a couple of nights ago, a bandage around his arm.
“Hello?” the man asked, craning his neck to see who was poking their head around the door.
Misaki entered the room, looking abashed. “S-sorry… I must have the wrong room.”
“You’re Suoh Mikoto’s companion, aren’t you?”
“Um… y-yeah…”
“How is he doing?”
“He’s fine. His bird got hit by a crossbow bolt and he seemed kind of upset, but it looks like someone is taking care of it.”
The man smiled serenely.
“You… already know that, don’t you…” Misaki said tentatively.
“Send him my love, okay?”
“O-Okay…?”
At that moment, the door opened, and Reisi returned with a bottle of some ointment in his hand.
“Totsuka-san, how are you feeling?”
“A little sore, if I’m honest.”
“I can have someone fetch some opium, if it would help.”
“No, it’s okay. I’d rather keep a clear head.”
“As you wish.” It was only then that Reisi finally seemed to acknowledge Misaki’s presence, and he gave him an unreadable smile. “You ought not to be in here.”
Misaki nodded and hurried from the room. Keeping vigil outside the door, lay a great, black wolfish-looking dog, who lifted its head at the sight of Misaki, but did nothing else.
Suddenly, an explanation for the presence of the mysterious boy and the wolf that seemed to care so deeply about him clicked in Misaki’s mind, and he hurried past the creature, holding his breath instinctively as not to blurt out his revelation. He waited at the end of the corridor for Reisi to emerge, and when he did, Misaki accosted him.
“It’s him, isn’t it? I know I sound crazy but somehow the wolf is Mikoto, right?”
Reisi chuckled, in an almost self-satisfied way, and crossed his arms. He guided Misaki over to a bench and gestured for him to take a seat, then sat down beside him.
“The young man’s name is Totsuka Tatara. He came to live in a city on the border between the Red and Blue kingdoms after the death of his foster father- he worked in a tavern that the Red Prince’s Royal Guard often frequented. As a prince, Suoh never had much interest in his royal duties, and spent most of his time acting more like a knight than the heir to the throne. He and his men were all fierce fighters, and they offered their aid to me during the coup, but by the time they arrived at the capital, the fighting was already finished.”
“What’s that got to do with all this?”
“The Colourless King was always afraid of Suoh. Removed from power as I was, there was little I could do to regain my throne. My people were punished harshly for showing a shred of remaining loyalty to me- I could not raise an army. But Suoh remains a popular royal in his own lands, even though he renounced his title, and even more so he is a respected fighter and military leader. The Colourless King feared that if Suoh and the Red Kingdom were to declare war on him, it would be the end of his reign, and I would be reinstated as King.
“So he felt something had to be done to prevent Suoh from launching an attack, but he could not simply have him killed, as that would only ignite rage amongst the Red Kingdom’s people, and his younger sister the Red Princess would certainly take it upon herself to avenge her brother’s death.”
“And that something was… what, turn him into a werewolf?” Misaki asked tentatively.
“The reason Suoh abdicated the throne was Totsuka. The two fell in love, but Suoh knew he could not give his country legitimate heirs if he married the boy, so not wanting to leave a power vacuum after his death, he chose instead to abdicate and leave Princess Anna next in line to the throne. I have never known a man love anything so fiercely as Suoh loves Totsuka, and they made no secret of it. It was easy enough for the Colourless King’s spies to discover that Suoh’s only weakness was his husband, so he cursed them. ‘Always together, eternally apart.’ By day, Totsuka is trapped in the form of an owl, and by night, Suoh is trapped in the form of a wolf. Only for a fleeting moment at dusk and dawn each day can they see each other in human form, but they can never touch.”
Misaki frowned- that certainly explained Mikoto’s sour disposition. To not be able to hold his lover in so long… it would make anyone unpleasant.
In a way, Misaki sympathised- his own childhood friend had been a member of the Blue King’s Special Guard, now under the rule of the Colourless King, and since the command had changed, they had not been permitted to speak to one another- fraternising with criminals was a hangable offense for the Special Guard, so Misaki had been careful to keep his distance. In truth, though, his feelings for his friend hadn’t been strictly platonic, and as a result he’d almost been disappointed when his face hadn’t been among the members of the guard who had captured him the other day. If he had to die, he had at least wanted to see his friend one last time before he did.  
“So now Suoh is too preoccupied with trying to find a way to undo the curse to launch an attack on the Colourless King’s reign, and his power is safe,” Reisi explained.
“Is there a way to undo the curse?”
“If both Totsuka and Suoh appear before the King in their human form, the curse will be broken.”
Misaki frowned. “How are they supposed to do that?”
“’On a day without night, a night without day.’ That is to say, the coming solar eclipse, barely a week from now. That is why they need your aid- to infiltrate the castle so that they can find the Colourless King and break the curse. And I would not be surprised if Suoh kills the man on the spot as soon as the curse is lifted, which normally I would condemn, but in this case, I feel everyone will be better off if the tyrant is dispatched swiftly.”
“And you’ll become King again?” Misaki couldn’t quite keep the hope out of his voice.
“Yes. I plan to aid Suoh with his plan to the best of my ability- I know the inside of the castle well, and can guide him once we are inside, but the security reinforcements since I fell from grace are unfamiliar to me, which is why you are necessary.” Reisi paused, then lowered his voice slightly. “I believe I was correct when I thought I recognised your face when you arrived. You are a friend of Fushimi’s- a member of my Guard, correct?”
“Y-yes...” Misaki cursed the stutter in his voice.
Reisi gave a knowing smile. “Reversing the fraternisation rule will be among my first acts once I resume my throne, though it will not matter as I plan to give you a full pardon for any and all of your crimes anyway should we succeed.”
Misaki blushed, his gaze dropping to the ground, but he nodded nonetheless. “I’ll help you.”
“Really?” The exclamation came from behind the pair, and they turned around to see Tatara padding into the hallway, wrapped in a cloak. There were deep shadows beneath his eyes, but he seemed to have recovered some of his strength- the colour had returned to his cheeks, and he had a hand on the shoulder of the immense wolf beside him to steady himself. Seeming ignorant of Misaki’s blushing, he stumbled forward to hug him gratefully.
“I was so worried that with the eclipse getting closer, we’d never be able to make it into the castle and we’d miss our chance. You’re a blessing; I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t appeared when you did. It must be fate.”
“I-it’s nothing really…” Misaki stammered, still very conscious of how pretty Tatara was, even with his face slightly drawn from the pain of his injury.
“It is settled, then,” Reisi declared. “This time next week, the usurper King shall be dead, and the lovers shall be reunited.”
Misaki supposed it was probably just his mind playing tricks on him, but when he caught a glimpse of Mikoto out of the corner of his eye, he could almost have sworn the wolf was smiling.
19 notes · View notes
itslevijoesa · 7 years ago
Note
SaruMi for the ship ask
who’s the cuddler: Yata, he is very affectionate. Saruhiko will never start cuddling and if Misaki cuddles up to him while he’s working he will click his tongue in an annoyed manner but immediately give in to it always
who makes the bed: Saru does. For Misaki there’s waaay more important things for him to do after he gets up, even though he does almost all the other chores like cleaning and cooking. When Saruhiko comes home from work he gets annoyed and does it before lying down because he can’t sleep in a messy bed
who wakes up first: Fushimi usually because he has to get up early for work. On his few days off he doesn’t go to bed before 4 in the morning though and sleeps until 3 pm, waking up to a cold mug of coffee on his bedside table and a great breakfast that Yata prepared for him hours ago
who has the weird taste in music: I don’t think they’re very fond of the other’s music taste in general. They always listen to Misaki’s rap music, even back in middle school when sharing headphones all the time. Fushimi often complains like “this stupid song again?” but doesn’t do anything further about it. Sometimes Saru will put on one of his few favourites to annoy Yata though.
who is more protective: Yata, most definitely. Fushimi can’t be bothered to get protective, and if so, he does it in a very subtle manner. Misaki on the other hand will fight anyone in an instant who gets too close to Saru or dares to insult him, just like he does about homra
who sings in the shower: Yata, all the time. Also because he knows it annoys Fushimi. Saruhiko usually doesn’t say anything about it, but if he’s in a bad mood or really tired from work, he flushes the toilet to shut him up
who cries during movies: Also Yata, because he gets way too involved in a movie’s story (can u even imagine how badly he bawled his eyes out at the end of Hooligans). Saruhiko doesn’t understand how Misaki can cry about anything fictional
who spends the most while out shopping: Again… Yata. As Fushimi doesn’t care for a lot of things, he never buys anything impulsively like it happens to Misaki all the damn time. Also, if Fushimi actually has to make an expensive purchase (mostly technological stuff), he will always manage to put it on Scepter4′s bill and get away with it, hence not spending his own money
who kisses more roughly: Even if Misaki is very passionate and rough due to his personality, he gets pretty shy and embarrassed when it comes to stuff like kissing. Saruhiko on the other hand only gets coarse when it comes to two things: fighting and making out
who is more dominant: In every day stuff it’s Misaki. He is incredibly hot headed and loves to have the upper hand. Usually Fushimi acts annoyed or mocks about it, but will go with Yata’s decisions because he doesn’t really care. Subtly, he’s keeping the dominance in their relationship most of the time though. In bed, it isn’t a question to me that Saru is the dominant one, because Yata is unexperienced and reluctant, even though he would never admit it.
my rating of the ship from 1-10: 20/10, would attend wedding
24 notes · View notes
emeraldwaves · 7 years ago
Text
Title: Don’t Look Down DJ AU Chapter 13 *FINAL CHAPTER* (Read from beginning Here or Here) Pairing: Sarumi Rating: M Word Count:  6,555 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! And thank you to EVERYONE who supported this fic! I’m so sad it’s over, but I had SO much fun writing this! Thank you <3
It took a while for Saruhiko to convince himself he was content with his phone being as silent as it was. His emails, on the other hand, had been blowing up. A few random musicians he'd never heard of had contacted him asking if he wanted to collaborate. He deleted those of course. Then there were a few from fans, mostly women, who claimed they loved his voice and how his song had helped them through a rough time. One had sent him questionable pictures, and he had deleted that email so fast, he hoped he could just pretend it had ever existed
Doumyouji and Hidaka were constantly asking when he was going to do something new, but Saruhiko had spent the majority of the time ignoring them and brushing them off. He wasn't going to keep explaining to them that he was done with music forever. Both had seemed disappointed, but Akiyama had recently been ushering them away from Saruhiko's desk.
Munakata had also given up it seemed, no longer did he give Saruhiko a knowing look every morning when he came into work, and he had stopped making weird suggestions.
He wasn't upset people were finally giving up on him—actually it was exactly what he had always wanted. He wanted to be left alone, free to go about his daily life as he had been before Misaki, before all this music mess had begun.
And yet, even though it had been a few weeks at this point, Saruhiko still found himself occasionally glancing at his cell phone, pressing the small button on the side to get the screen to light up. For a moment, it felt as though his heart was a bit heavier in his chest.
Perhaps there was one person he had never expected to give up on him. But this person had given up, this person had other people he was more passionate about. People he needed to focus on to further his career. And being ignored was what Saruhiko wanted, that was what he had convinced himself. It was far easier this way.
And he was content, completely content. Touching the side of his phone, he ran his finger over the cool glass screen. It was much better this way, with his phone being silent. He got more work done, and wasn't so damn distracted or annoyed all the time. It was better.
"Ah Fushimi-san," Akiyama's soft voice came from behind him, and he turned around quickly, practically jumping in his seat, as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have. "Sorry," Akiyama continued, "I didn't mean to startle you."
"Tch, you didn't," Saruhiko scoffed, folding his arms.
"I was wondering if you could help me with a quick report?" he asked.
Saruhiko flicked his gaze towards his phone again, he didn't really care much about helping Akiyama, but compared to most of his obnoxious coworkers, Akiyama was probably the one he liked the best.
"Um, if you're busy, you don't have to," Akiyama spoke up again, waving his hand a bit.
"It's fine," Saruhiko grunted, clicking his tongue. "What do you need, make it quick."
Pursing his lips, Akiyama handed Saruhiko the folder. "You can just read it over yourself," he said softly. "But...I wanted to ask if you were okay," he muttered. "You seem really down today... well... lately..." Akiyama muttered.
"I'm fine," Saruhiko snapped, taking the folder from Akiyama's hand. So much for Akiyama being the only one to leave him alone so far. At least he hadn't pressured him for more information. In fact, he hadn't really said anything.
"We're all here for you if you want to talk?" Akiyama said. "I mean I know you're not much of a talker..." he muttered trailing off. "Maybe we could all go out again, take your mind off of things."
Saruhiko tried not to crush the folder with his fist. "Akiyama, I said I'm fine," he growled. "And I'm never going to be pressured into going out again," he continued, looking down towards his phone. "That's how this whole damn mess started in the first place."
"Ah...true..." Akiyama muttered. "I didn't even think of that..."
Clicking his tongue, Saruhiko took the envelope and sat back down in his chair, swiveling it away from Akiyama. "I'll bring this back to you in a moment." And thankfully, Akiyama took that as his cue to leave.
He flipped through the folder, reading about the technical issues the computer was experiencing and had in the past. It was hard to focus when all he could think about was how frustrated he was. This was how work had been for the past few weeks. His performance hadn't slipped or anything, he was still on time with his work, actually he'd been working a little faster, since it was a good distraction. Occasionally, he'd get stuck, focusing on the wrong things, his heart throbbing with frustration and anger.
He'd been avoiding music completely as well, not wanting to listen to anything on the radio if he didn't have to. His and Misaki's song was on frequently, and even worse, his and Nagare's song would occasionally pop up too. Neither were things he wanted to listen to, and any sort of music he listened to reminded him of all of the wrong things.
He stood up, making his way over to Akiyama's desk, and he placed the folder back down. "I circled the parts you're going to want to have him replace," he said. "It's not a difficult fix, but it might be expensive if we need to order the parts."
"I...see," Akiyama said taking the file back. "Thanks," he nodded. "And uh, Fushimi-san," he continued. "I'm sorry...about earlier."
"It's fine. I already told you I'm fine. I want to drop the subject," he said. "It's not something we need to focus on. I put it behind me, and I would appreciate it if everyone else did too."
"I know...you just seemed so upset lately."
"I'm fine," he repeated. "If you have more questions about computer stuff you can ask, but this is the last I want to hear about this subject." Not giving Akiyama the chance to answer, he moved back towards his own desk. The less he heard about it, the less he would think about it, or at least that was Saruhiko's theory. He was already moving on with his life.
~~
It had taken almost a week to perfect it, and even then Misaki wasn't sure if it was good enough. He wanted it to be perfect., absolutely perfect. Saruhiko deserved that at the very least. Actually, Misaki knew Saruhiko probably wasn't going to enjoy the present at first, hell he probably would reject it. Misaki was ready to do what he did best—pester Saruhiko until he convinced him to listen.
He had pushed the thoughts of the apology he felt he owed to the back of his mind, and now he could only focus on convincing Saruhiko to forgive him for what he had done.
The song was something reminiscent of the song they had originally performed together. It had similar melodies, only this time Misaki was singing it. Misaki's voice wasn't very good, in fact he often sounded shaky and nervous on his own songs. He liked it so much better when he heard Saruhiko or Totsuka sing his stuff, it made more sense. But for Saruhiko, Misaki wanted to do this. He wanted to prove how much Saruhiko meant to him, how stupid he'd been to push Saruhiko away, and how much Saruhiko had helped him...there was also the slight possibility that he loved him, and though he had mentioned it in the song, Misaki wasn't sure how...literal Saruhiko would take the message.
It was a song Misaki had written for Saruhiko, and Saruhiko only.
The song was a bit slower than stuff he normally made, but he felt that would suit Saruhiko better, and it swelled at the end, filled with as much emotion Misaki could pour into it. He hated his stupid, shaky voice on it, but it would be worth it in the end when Saruhiko realized how much Misaki had put into this song.
There had been parts he'd deleted and parts he'd rearranged. He'd sang the damn thing at least 20 times, but it had all been worth it. Worth it to get the perfect song for Saruhiko, to express everything Misaki was feeling.
He didn't want Saruhiko to forget the way it had felt when they had performed together. The way the beat had flown between their hearts, the way they had kept the tempo together, and how it had been impossible for Misaki to stop smiling for the entire night. He didn't want Saruhiko to forget how amazing the times they had shared together had been. Sure, they’d had some difficult moments, but they'd also had amazing ones, and Saruhiko had changed so much in the small amount of time Misaki had known him.
He couldn't believe he had almost let all this go.
"Yata-san?" Kamamoto said, opening the door to the studio, and Misaki immediately slammed his laptop shut. He had promised himself that no one else but Saruhiko would hear this. "You left your phone in the living room and you keep getting texts, from Kusanagi-san I think."
"Hah?!" Misaki yelled, and lunged forward, grabbing the device from Kamamoto's hand. "Shit!" Misaki cursed, and tucked the phone into one of his pocket's. "I'll answer later. I'm almost done with this."
"The song you're writing for Fushimi-san?" Kamamoto asked.
"S-Shut up! Yes that one," Misaki blushed, folding his arms indignantly, as he glanced away. "I just gotta...figure out how to give it to him. If I send it, I have a feeling he won't open the file..." Misaki admitted.
"What about your songs for your album?" Kamamoto asked. "Have you worked on those at all? I don't want you to do that thing where you get obsessive and forget what you should actually be working on."
Groaning, Misaki leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, I've worked on them a little bit, but Mikoto-san already rejected some of the songs I’d shown him. I don't think I'll be able to produce anything good until I get this shit with Saru sorted," he said, scratching at his neck. "I have a few months, and Kusanagi keeps reminding me not to rush it," he sighed.
"Well at least you're getting a lot of extra time," Kamamoto said. "I'm sure you'll figure out how to fix things with him."
"Yeah!" Misaki nodded. "And like I said...it's...basically done, I just don't know how to give it to the asshole!"
"If you're worried, go give it to him in person," Kamamoto shrugged. It wasn't a terrible idea, and it was pretty typical at this point for Misaki to burst in unannounced to Saruhiko's job. It might make Saruhiko hate him even more, but it was worth a shot to get him to listen. "Have you tried texting him?" Kamamoto asked.
Misaki shook his head. "Not exactly. But I know how he gets about his damn phone, and he hates me right now so there's no way he's going to text back, even if I was to try spam texting him..." Misaki muttered.
"Yeah maybe don't do that," Kamamoto snorted. "And maybe-"
"I think I'm just gonna take my damn laptop down to his office and I'll show it to him myself." He yanked out the chord, and picked up the laptop, shoving it in his backpack next to his bed.
"Uhm...Yata-san. I was just going to say maybe you should wait until he's back at home and you guys could have some privacy."
"No way! He'll never let me in his apartment, are you kidding?!" Misaki said, swinging the backpack around his shoulders. "This is definitely the best way to make sure he listens!"
"What exactly did you do to make him hate you?" Kamamoto asked raising his eyebrow, but Misaki brushed past him, shaking his head.
"It's too long of a story, I'll tell you later once it's all fixed."
"Okay...good luck then," he shrugged.
"I don't need luck," Misaki smiled. "Once he hears this, I just know we're gonna figure shit out!" Misaki said, giving Kamamoto a thumbs up. "I'll be back!" he called out, slamming the door behind him as he dashed down the stairs.
Admittedly, he was a little nervous Saruhiko would never want to talk to him again, but he hoped, with many of the other times he'd spoken with Saruhiko, this would be able to convince him just as he had in the past. He didn't want to be pushy again, or well, pushy enough that it would push Saruhiko away forever, but he wasn't going to let Saruhiko get away from him, not again. He wasn't sure if it was going to solve his music problem, but he hoped fixing things with Saruhiko would help him be inspired again.
He couldn't pinpoint when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Misaki realized he needed Saruhiko in his life, whether he was involved with his music or not. No matter what, he had to make Saruhiko realize that.
~~
"You don't understand!"
Saruhiko practically dropped his phone onto the ground.
The voice was loud and echoed up the stairs, a voice Saruhiko was all too familiar with. He felt his heart sink, and his palms grew sweaty. He truly had thought all this was over, and yet here he was back at Saruhiko's office. Why? Had he come to yell at him again?
"I'm always allowed to go up!!" the voice yelled again, and Saruhiko hoped Fuse would have enough of a brain to keep the idiot out of here.
A few of the other workers had peered over the edges of their cubicle, all disturbed by the loud noises echoing up the main stairwell.
"C'mon! It'll take two seconds! This is really important! I'm not going to yell or anything!"
Saruhiko found that hard to believe, especially since Misaki was already creating such a damn scene. Why the hell did he always do this at Saruhiko's job? He'd already created a scene multiple times, did he really need to bother Saruhiko more? It had been weeks!
Groaning, he tucked his phone into his pocket, and stormed down the stairs, not surprised when he saw Misaki at the bottom of the stairs. His face was red, and he was panting heavily, holding his laptop in his hand. He looked frantic. Glancing from the laptop to Misaki's face, Saruhiko scoffed. Was Misaki here simply to get his laptop fixed? There were plenty of places he could do that, and though Saruhiko did like to think of himself as the best, he would've thought Misaki would go elsewhere to save himself the awkwardness.
"What the hell are you doing here, Misaki?" Saruhiko scoffed, clicking his tongue angrily at Misaki.
"AH! Saru!" he called out, and practically slammed his laptop on the counter. If it wasn't broken before, Saruhiko felt a little concerned for it now. "Good! You're here! I've been trying to get upstairs, but this guy wouldn't let me through."
"Good, you have no reason to be up there," Saruhiko continued.
"Yes I do! I wanted to see you!" Misaki urged, and Fuse began to slink away, not wanting to get caught between the two. Saruhiko couldn't blame him, based on prior knowledge of how Saruhiko and Misaki interacted, Saruhiko wouldn't have wanted to be around them either.
"You did? Last time you made it pretty clear you wouldn't want to see me ever again. And quite frankly, I'm not exactly happy to see you."
"Okay, see, I knew you'd probably say something like this. 'I don't wanna see you Misaki' or 'Get out of my sight', but you gotta listen to me just this once Saru, please!" he said.
"Just this once? Just this once?" Saruhiko growled. "How many times have you been pushy with me and forced me to do things I didn't want to do!"
Frowning, Misaki slammed his hand down on the counter, the loud noise echoing through the hall. "And how many times did you end up loving what we did together!" he grunted, determination flickering across his eyes.
It was a look Saruhiko was used to, one he was incredibly familiar with. Misaki's eyes which proved he wasn't going to give this up. But Saruhiko had fallen for this too many times, in fact there was a time he would've maybe even admitted he loved that look. Not this time, no matter what, he wouldn't cave to Misaki's demanding nature.
"You're lucky we're in a public place," Saruhiko hissed, crossing his arms. "Please leave. I won't ask you again."
But instead of listening, Misaki yanked open his laptop, wiping the screen off as he hurriedly typed his password. He glanced around the store, his gaze falling on a few of the people. He groaned, but quickly shook his head. "Okay, okay, this isn't how I wanted to do this, but I need you to hear this!" he said.
Saruhiko rolled his eyes, and stormed forward, pressing down on Misaki's laptop to shut it. "I don't need to hear anything," he explained. "And I know you love making a scene, but could you not do this at my job."
Misaki stopped his hand. "Please Saruhiko! Please!" he begged, his eyes looking desperate. The determination was still there, but his bright eyes were pleading. What the hell was going on? Saruhiko was certain Misaki hated him now, and yet here he was, being his typical pushy self.
But Saruhiko had resolved himself to his choice. He didn't want Misaki in his life. Even if he took him back, he knew it wouldn't go well. History would repeat itself, and even if they made up, Misaki would go back to idolizing Mikoto, worshiping him and being excited the two of them were working together. Saruhiko couldn't do it.
The problem, which Saruhiko had no desire to admit to himself, was he cared about Misaki. He liked him, and he wanted to be the only person Misaki cared about. He wanted to be his number one. And with Mikoto around, there was no way that would ever happen.
Sucking in a large breath of air, Saruhiko's body felt cold, a shiver running down his spine. This had to be the end of it.
"You need to leave Misaki. I am busy, and I'm sure you have plenty of music...things you need to be working on. Don't come here again."
"C'mon Saru," Misaki grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "We both said shitty things, but I really wanna...show you this thing. I mean it doesn't gotta be like this, you know?" he said.
Clenching his fists, Saruhiko leaned forward, his eyes staring harshly. "I don't know how many times I'm going to tell you. I don't wish to be involved in the music world anymore. I don't...wish to be involved in your world anymore," he hissed, stepping away from the counter. "Don't bother me anymore."
He turned away, and headed back up the stairs, to return to his work. He wasn't supposed to see Misaki again, and he truly hoped this time he wouldn't have to anymore. He wanted to forget about Misaki, and the way he made him feel, and if he kept pestering him it would be impossible for Saruhiko to do so. Even now, he'd worked so hard to forget about Misaki for the past week and now he had stumbled back into Saruhiko’s life, bringing back memories he had almost completely moved past.
Saruhiko hated emotions, he hated feelings, and above all else, he hated when his heart felt so damn heavy in his chest.
~~
When Misaki saw Saruhiko turn away from him and walk up the stairs, he slammed his hand down onto the table in front of him, and stormed away from the counter, not saying a word to the man who called out behind him to have a nice day.
He had to regroup. There was absolutely no way he could just give this up. This was Saruhiko, and Misaki had resolved to fix this. If he couldn't convince Saruhiko to listen at work, he'd have to find another way to get him to listen.
Which was why he was now sat on the stoop of Saruhiko's apartment, waiting for him to get home. He'd tucked his laptop into his backpack, and curled up, bringing his knees up to his chest. He'd wait as long as he had to, even if Saruhiko didn't get home until midnight.
However, Misaki had forgotten one minor detail—winter was on the horizon, and by the time the sun began to set, he was getting chillier and chillier. He yanked his beanie down further over his ears, trying to cover more of his neck as a shiver ran down his spine. It was nearing 8 PM and Saruhiko still hadn't come home. But Misaki didn't care. He had already resolved to wait as long as he had to. He had to prove to Saruhiko he was serious about fixing...whatever they were.
"What the hell are you doing here?" A voice made Misaki jolt up and glance at his watch, realizing it was close to 10:30, and somewhere along the way he'd fallen asleep. Rubbing his eye, he yawned and stared up at Saruhiko's deep blues.
"You're home!" he called out, jumping up.
"I am. Get out of the way. I told you to leave me alone," he said, brushing past him to put the key in the door.
"No you don't understand! I've been here since I left the store!" Misaki tried to explain.
Saruhiko clicked his tongue. "Then you're an idiot. No surprise there. I told you to leave me alone."
"Since when has that ever stopped me!" Misaki grinned, standing behind him.
"Is that really something to be proud of?" Saruhiko grunted, turning the lock. "Good night Misaki." Slamming the door behind him, he disappeared into his apartment and Misaki let out a long whine.
"What the hell Saruhiko!" he called out. "It's freaking freezing out here! At least hear me out!" Misaki stared at the window, blinking, waiting for Saruhiko to turn the light on and come forward, but after a few minutes Misaki knew it wasn't going to happen.
"C'mon Saru! Just give me a chance!" he cried out again, and he could almost hear the other side of the conversation. Saruhiko had already given him a chance, many chances, more than Misaki deserved. "Okay, okay!" he yelled, waving his hands around. "Give me another chance! Please! I promise, if this doesn't work, I'll leave you alone forever and you'll never have to deal with me again!"
That was a shitty lie, and he knew it, and Saruhiko probably knew it too. "I just want to explain how important you are to me!" he whined.
Still there was nothing, no movement or anything. Was Saruhiko really never going to talk to him again? Misaki knew he was stubborn, but he had figured by now Saruhiko would've caved and at least let him speak for a minute.
He froze in place. Maybe...he didn't need to speak! Maybe he could pull his laptop out, and start the song outside his window, like he was in an 80s movie! Sure, a laptop was different from a boombox, but hell, they could be a new modern classic.
He pulled the small computer out of the bag and kicked his backpack aside. He opened the laptop and pushed down on the space bar, turning the volume up as loud as it could go. He held the computer over his head, standing proudly outside of Saruhiko's window.
He waited, cringing a bit at his own vocals, but he watched the window, waiting for any sign of movement, any sign Saruhiko was listening.
His voice echoed a little bit, but the sound on his laptop wasn't very loud, and the speaker was on the underside, and not traveling very well, as the song began to near the end, Misaki sighed, and pulled it down. Huffing, he shut it slowly and placed it back in his bag.
Misaki shivered again. It was so damn cold, but he'd made a promise and he wasn't about to break it. Maybe Saruhiko hadn't heard him. The laptop speakers had been pretty quiet...
Stretching up, Misaki figured he only had one other option. He'd have to sing it live. He rolled his shoulders back, as shook his body out, as though he were about to start running some sort of marathon. "Alright Saru!" he called out. "You've left me no choice! I'll just have to start singing outside your window!"
A few windows next door had lights that turned on, and Misaki caught a glimpse of a few faces staring at him. Maybe they were going to yell, or call the cops, but so be it. Misaki wasn't going to leave until he was physically dragged away.
He opened his mouth and began to sing, his voice slightly off pitch. At least in his own song, he'd tuned himself to the right notes. It still didn't sound great, but damn did it sound better than this. He sang louder and louder, calling out the emotions of the piece, explaining why he had been stupid to leave Saruhiko behind in such a way. Actually, just singing it, even though it was loud and semi-obnoxious, Misaki felt himself growing more and more emotional.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
"Misaki!" Saruhiko growled, and stormed down the stairs. Wrapping his fist around Misaki's shirt collar, he began to drag him inside. "You weren't fucking kidding," he snapped and slammed the door behind him. "You're gonna get yourself arrested you moron."
"Of course I wasn't!" he said, rubbing his hands together, happy to finally feel warmth rushing through his body. "I have to play you this song."
"A damn song? That's what this is about?" Saruhiko hissed. "I told you so many times I want nothing-"
"To do with the music world! I get it, I get it," Misaki sighed. "Look it's not about that," he said. "Just..." he rubbed his arm, his eyes trailing over Saruhiko.
Damn Saruhiko was all kinds of beautiful. His eyes were gorgeous and blue, the wisps of dark hair brushing over his pale forehead. Even with his brow looking furrowed and angry, Misaki felt his heart flutter just looking at him.
Suddenly he felt nervous, as though there was so much at stake. Saruhiko was in front of him, actually ready to listen, or well as ready as he would ever be, and Misaki couldn't mess it up. "Music...is the only way I really know how to...express myself, without being an idiot," he whispered, and pulled open the laptop, and hovered his finger over the button about to push play. He took a deep breath and slowly shut the laptop. "A-Actually...I'm just going to sing it."
He opened his mouth and began to sing the song acapella. He sang slowly, singing of how Saruhiko had helped him so much, how stupid he'd been to have lost him. His voice was shaky, trembling as he picked up the tempo. He sounded awful, off pitch and weird, and part of him could only imagine how amazing Saruhiko would sound on it, far better than him at least. He got to the end, the part where the music swelled and he sang about wanting forgiveness, wanting to work it out, and he knew he sounded so damn desperate. But Misaki was so lost in his emotions he didn't care how he sounded.
He took a deep breath, singing the last note as he looked at Saruhiko who was silent. He didn't clap or say a word, he just stared.
"Look..." Misaki whispered. "I get it...you hate me now. I didn't mean...I didn't mean to upset you...I just...I just loved working with you and I loved how much fun we had performing the song, I wanted you to come with me and share all these experiences I want to have. I wanted to have them with you. But I was stupid and didn't even think about you! I just wanted what I wanted, like a selfish brat! Then it sucked hearing you do a song with someone else! I was so damn jealous! And it's sucked the past few weeks, you know? It's absolutely sucked! I keep trying to write new music, and it all sucks! I don't even need you to sing it, I don't want you to sing it if you don't want to. I didn't come here to pressure you to come sing again. I just...I just want you in my life Saru!" he yelled, tears streaming down his cheeks. He wasn't sure when he had started crying, but he ran his sleeve across one of his eyes, the tears flowing faster than he could really fix. "I get it...I'm a fucking idiot!" he yelled. "B-But I love you okay? I didn't want to stop...whatever it was we were." He took a deep breath, panting as he tried to catch himself, feeling a little dizzy from how fast he had completely spilled his guts, forgetting to breath properly.
"You done?" Saruhiko muttered.
Misaki nodded. "Y-Yeah..." he whispered, slipping his laptop back into his backpack. "That's...all I wanted you to hear so...I'll leave."
Saruhiko folded his arms and clicked his tongue. "You spent all that time and energy and you plan on leaving now?"
Misaki froze, his hand resting on his backpack. Did Saruhiko not want him to leave? There was an awkward moment of silence between them, neither of them moving, their eyes locked. Misaki had just assumed…
Suddenly, Saruhiko flicked his gaze towards the kitchen, and he unfolded his arms, rolling his shoulders back. Misaki opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he saw Saruhiko do the same. A soft sigh left his lips, one filled with frustration and Saruhiko folded his arms again. He looked tense, and a bit angry, but then again it was rare Saruhiko looked happy. Maybe...he did want Misaki to leave? He had been annoying, but he really wanted Saruhiko to at least hear him out, though now he was wondering if he did more harm than good.
Stammering, he rubbed at the back of his neck, finally speaking up. "I just thought...uh...that you...uh…"
"Shut up." Saruhiko rolled his eyes and leaned forward, yanking Misaki's shirt collar yet again, but this time he pulled their lips together, locking their lips in a kiss. It was an intense kiss too, one that told Misaki Saruhiko had been missing him just as much. Misaki's arms came around Saruhiko's neck, and he pressed his tongue against the taller's, desperately penetrating his mouth. He'd wanted Saruhiko's kisses for weeks now, hell he'd wanted it more than anything.
"Y-You...you forgive me?" Misaki panted, pulling away from Saruhiko, though he stayed close to him, as if stepping back would result in Saruhiko pulling away again.
Shrugging Saruhiko let out a sigh. "Perhaps...but..." he muttered.
"No! Uh...there's no need for a but..." Misaki said frantically, laughing awkwardly.
"But...I should...apologize too..." he grunted, looking positively infuriated with himself. His cheeks were even a little red. "I...I didn't hate doing music stuff with you...I only hated that...maybe you were going to enjoy your time with others more...I didn't want to be...replaced."
"What?!" Misaki yelled and squeezed Saruhiko's cheeks, pulling on them. "Saru! I never would've replaced you! Just cause I was working with other people didn't mean I didn't wanna work with you! You're my favorite! You should know that!" he said.
"Well you didn't make that very clear! All you cared about was Mikoto," Saruhiko scoffed.
"Is...that why you sang with Nagare?" Misaki asked. "Cause you thought I was going to replace you?"
Saruhiko shrugged, not answering verbally, but Misaki could see his cheeks grow a little redder.
"Idiot Saru!" he called out. "I wouldn't have! Hell I'd have you sing all my songs! I thought you didn't want to sing the one with Mikoto."
Scoffing, Saruhiko shook his head. "I didn't, that was a terrible song," he snorted. "I enjoy your style more."
"Well...come sing all the rest of my songs then! I need to make a few more!" Misaki urged, the excitement glistening in his eyes. "A-And...maybe you could sing them...as...you know..." he rubbed his arm, looking awkward. "My, uh, boyfriend..."
"I told you, Misaki I'm done with the music world," he turned away indignantly, but then slowly glanced back at Misaki, a small smirk on his lips. "But...maybe I could...make an exception...for my...boyfriend," he said softly.
Misaki's eyes grew wide. "R-Really?!" he asked, almost breathless.
"Well..." Saruhiko clicked his tongue. "You certainly can't sing them."
"S-Shut up you ass!" he snarled, punching Saruhiko's arm. "I...I tried really hard! On the recording it's not as bad, but...I wanted to say I loved you and shit!"
Rolling his eyes, Saruhiko let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah...right..." he sighed. "I...feel similarly...and...I did kind of...miss your loud stupidity."
Misaki grinned. "Good!" he leaned up, kissing him once again. He'd missed that a hell of a lot more than he'd realized. "So...you'll really sing for me again? Sing for me and...come on tour and be with me?!"
"...Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'll think about it..." he muttered.
"I-I don't care if you don't wanna...I just...wanna be with ya', you know? You...uh, don’t gotta do anything..."
"I know...but I want...that too..." Saruhiko muttered, and kissed Misaki once more too.
"I love you..." Misaki muttered against his lips, and pushed against him harder.
"Mm...yeah, yeah..." Saruhiko whispered, his voice mumbled and shy. Misaki could see how red Saruhiko’s cheeks were, he knew Saruhiko felt the same, even if he couldn’t quite say the words. Instead, Saruhiko wrapped their hands together, and squeezed tightly.
Misaki couldn’t help but smile, resting his forehead against Saruhiko’s. He had no idea where they would go from here, but he was sure it was going to be nothing but perfect, or well, perfect by their standards.
~~
 A few months later
"I'm ready! I'm so fucking ready!" Misaki said, bouncing between both of his feet. Saruhiko rolled his eyes. This had become Misaki's routine, and while Saruhiko found it massively annoying and unhelpful, he couldn't blame Misaki for doing whatever it was he needed to do to...pump himself up.
Saruhiko would've much preferred they do other things to prepare, but he didn't feel like arguing with Misaki as he desperately attempted to get into his own mindset.
"You say this every time," Saruhiko muttered, clicking his tongue.
"Yeah, and I'm ready every time!" Misaki exclaimed.
Rolling his eyes, Saruhiko leaned down to give Misaki a kiss, which made him freeze, his face turning red. Cute. "Idiot," Saruhiko scoffed.
"Look, I know you somehow just space out and do your thing when we go out there, but I still get nervous! The crowds keep getting bigger and bigger!"
They were reaching the middle of their tour, and Misaki was always a reckless ball of nerves before they had to go on stage.
Saruhiko had agreed, offered even, to sing a few of Misaki's songs, and when he had, Misaki had almost no problem finishing his EP album. Kusanagi had released another one of his songs, and sales had been doing quite well. The tour was only making it better.
Misaki's popularity was skyrocketing, and everything was a whirlwind to both of them. With Misaki's rise in popularity, Saruhiko was getting his own following. People were begging Saruhiko to sing for them, just as much as singers begged to sing for Misaki. But Saruhiko and Misaki refused every time, content with each other.
Originally, Saruhiko had wanted to refuse to tour with Misaki, even though deep down, he had enjoyed their performance together. Still, he wasn't quite sure he was ready to drop everything to travel around the country to perform. However, when he realized he'd have to be away from Misaki for months, he'd reluctantly agreed, but on his own terms. He didn't like being away from his main job, but Munakata had told him his job was secure, and Saruhiko could have it back whenever he wanted.
Actually lately, he hadn't hated the whole singing thing, ever since they'd both apologized. Working with Misaki brought out emotions Saruhiko had never known he'd even had, and he didn't mind the sex they usually had after recording sessions. Misaki always seemed particularly fired up after them.
The tour also had been more fun than Saruhiko had expected. He still wasn't a fan of Totsuka or Mikoto, but Kusanagi was fairly interesting to talk to, and Misaki always seemed so excited, he couldn't hate it. Seeing Misaki run out onto the stage, feeling his presence behind him when he sang, Saruhiko wouldn't have traded that for anything. He loved Misaki, the stupid idiot, and whenever he heard their songs begin, Saruhiko was transported somewhere else. A place he felt alive, and happy, comfortable even.
Strange, that on stage in front of thousands of people he felt more comfortable. But he never really felt scared, especially since Misaki was always right there, behind him. The beat of their songs holding Saruhiko's hand throughout the entire concert. They were connected, together, and the whole world knew it.
"Introducing...Yata Misaki and his guest, Fushimi Saruhiko!" Kusanagi's voice boomed into the microphone, and the crowd went wild, cheering and chanting their names.
Misaki jumped up, shaking his hands out as he stepped up onto the steps. Seeing Misaki's energy, the way his eyes twinkled against the stage lights, Saruhiko knew he'd made the right choice. All this time, he'd felt he didn't deserve to be happy, that he should continue on the safe path, the safe journey...and stay away from any risks. But Misaki...Misaki was the best risk, and he loved him.
Misaki turned around, noting Saruhiko's momentary hesitation, and he gave Saruhiko the biggest of smiles, holding his hand out. "You coming Saru?"
 I love you
And as Saruhiko reached forward and took Misaki's hand, their fingers intertwining. He walked up the steps, crossing the threshold onto the black stage. Saruhiko cracked the tiniest of smiles, "Let's do it."
 I love you too.
"Together!" Misaki cheered.
"Together," Saruhiko repeated.
And as the two of them stepped on stage, holding each other's hands, Saruhiko could feel Misaki’s pulse throbbing against his own, their hearts’ rhythm syncing up. Misaki waved when they both looked down at the crowd, and the cheers began to crescendo into the loudest of happy roars.
10 notes · View notes
its-love-u-asshole · 8 years ago
Text
Sarumi Mall/Build-A-Bear AU
Ok so…I have had this idea for a long time but I never posted these because I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d ever write a fic? But now for sure I have other things to work on, for both sarumi and other fandoms, and this idea just doesn’t fit into the plan, so enjoy these silly headcanons lol!
Basically it’s a mall au where Saru and the S4 boys work in like…some fancy department store and Yata happens to work at the build a bear (homra is spread out throughout the mall) because he’s really good with kids and has a happy attitude and he’s just a bean okay.
Anyways, the S4 boys are shits and get on Saru’s case because Seri’s birthday is coming up and he needs to get her a gift like wtf Saru, and he’s just like whatever fine I’ll get her a gift card somewhere. But ofc that’s not good enough so eventually one of them is like ‘get her one of those cute bears from build a bear’ and that way they can also make it sorta a group gift, like…it’ll be the honorary S4 bear lmaoo and Saru is like ‘fuck no I’m not going into that hell hole, there are little humans in there.’
But ofc he is just tsun and rlly does want to get her something so he goes, and he doesn’t get how it works so he’s having issues, so Yata comes to help him *_* and he’s being a Yata bean and helping him with stuffing it and all but is also sorta nervous bc Saru is cute ok (I am a sucker for immediate attraction w these two in certain AUs idk why, or at least…)
Until Saru starts being an asshole. He’s teasing Yata for working there and the dumb uniform and they’re kinda bickering while Yata is trying to keep his cool (which is hard when Saru is like ‘if it wasn’t for the uniform I would have mistaken you for one of the children’ and he wants to fight) but ofc Yata has other ways to retort like ‘ur calling my outfit dumb, ur the one buying the bear a tutu and roller skates’ and it spirals into a full out verbal brawl
Eventually Saru buys the damn bear and essentially it begins the weird rivalry/attraction bc everytime Saru walks to work he has to pass by the build a bear and it’s like –death stare—
But ofc they both find excuses to see each other like oh Yata needed to go to Saru’s store to buy something, and they get to know each other more and the hatred isn’t as intense and Yata starts befriending the S4 boys too (and they totally know what’s up)
The conflict in this au would basically be Yata jumping to conclusions bc he totally has a crush on Saru (which is returned) but he’s p convinced Saru is dating Seri bc he gave her the bear, and meanwhile everyone they know is watching them just flirt and be losers and everyone is like PLS KISS ALREADY
But Yata ofc doesn’t hate Seri or anything, and cares about Saruhiko as a friend, but obviously still has a giant crush he can’t help. SO in attempts to hide his massive crush he tries to play it off by asking a lot about Seri and trying to be a normal bro, but then Saru (who is a dumbass) starts believing it’s because Yata has a crush on Seri, and sulks because he thinks his feelings for Yata won’t be return
Thus a small misunderstanding, which is resolved eventually when Yata sees Seri holding hands with Kusanagi on a lunch date in the food court, and worries that she’s cheating on Saru and has a ‘what do I do? Do I tell him?’ friend moment, which boils down to his inability to keep a secret. He confronts Saru seriously, only for Saru to have a mini stroke because ‘wtf you thought I was dating Seri this whole time, hell no’ and Yata is so relieved and real confessions ensue
Tada! Boyfrens lmao
And yes this was my tiny AU that never reached the further stages of development –sigh— Do with it what you will lmao *_*
54 notes · View notes
ridiasfangirlings · 6 months ago
Note
SaruMi are testing foundation colors (don't ask me why, there may or may not be a strain disguising his illegal doings as a beauty products seller), anyways, Yata makes fun of Saruhiko for not managing to find his right shade because he's so pale, secretly though, Yata finds that frightening.
Fushimi can’t help that he has naturally perfect skin and therefore needs no foundation :P Maybe there’s some Strain thing that requires them to go undercover at a beauty pageant, the Strain is moonlighting as a makeup artist and the two of them need to dress up as contestants in order to get access without being spotted. Say this is during the time Munakata is missing so Awashima can’t go because she’s leading S4 and Anna is too young so Yata and Fushimi are ultimately chosen because Yata’s the shortest and Fushimi’s the prettiest (that’s not exactly the explanation that’s given to Fushimi as to why he was chosen, it’s probably more ‘we need someone who will work well with Homra’s Yatagarasu,’ but really it’s because he’s the prettiest). Yata is loudly annoyed at having to dress as a woman and of course Fushimi can’t help but tease him about it, Yata’s like you don’t get to tease me for wearing a dress when you’re also in a dress.
They’re smuggled in through a door in the back and have to make their way to the makeup room, the pageant has already started so the Strain is elsewhere doing last minute touch ups. There was concern that the Strain’s been using their powers to like drug the beauty products somehow so in order to find proof Yata and Fushimi have to test a bunch of products, the Gold clan provided them with a bunch of tester strips they can use so that it will show up if the products are tampered with. The first few tests of the foundation seem to be fine but Fushimi puts some on his skin just to be sure, Yata immediately gets worried because what if it drugs you. Fushimi says it’s fine and this is a faster way to be sure they know which products haven’t been tampered with. Yata’s all ‘I guess…’ and then he looks at Fushimi’s arm and is like those are super dark on you though.
Fushimi says some of us don’t want to get skin cancer by running around in the sun all the time, tossing Yata a foundation. Yata puts it on his arm and is like hey this one matches me pretty well. Fushimi shrugs and says it isn’t hard, though he supposes if Yata had to do makeup on his own it would take him hours to find the right color. Yata’s practically forgotten about the mission now because no way is he going to lose, digging through the makeup like well I bet I could find your shade easy, I’ll just look for chalk white. He shoves a couple light shades at Fushimi but they all still show up as obviously too dark on his skin. Yata’s finds a few more as Fushimi starts complaining that there’s no point to this. At some point imagine Yata throws a foundation at Fushimi and Fushimi deliberately avoids catching it, it smashes to the floor and Fushimi smirks at Yata like way to go Misaki, you’ll get us caught. Before Yata can argue a strange-smelling smoke rises from the broken foundation and they’re like shit we forgot about the Strain thing. Some time later both their dresses are torn and their hair is a mess but they’ve apprehended the Strain, and Yata spots the foundation marks still on Fushimi’s arm. He suddenly grabs Fushimi’s hand and is like let’s go for a walk outside or something, Fushimi gives him a look like we’re still in dresses idiot. Yata’s all I knew that but really he’s thinking it’s kinda concerning that none of those foundations fit Fushimi’s skin, he really needs some sun.
11 notes · View notes
ridiasfangirlings · 7 months ago
Note
Sarumi Gakuen K when Fushimi give his first button of his gakuran shirt to Yata when they graduate
It should be second, shouldn’t it? That’s the one for romantic love. Imagine Fushimi and Yata are getting ready to graduate and they’ve of course had the usual relationship ups and downs, they were enemies for a while but now they’re back to being friends. Fushimi hasn’t confessed his real feelings to Yata though, assuming that there’s no way Yata would ever return his feelings after everything Fushimi’s put him through. They’re hanging out in Yata’s dorm a few days before graduation playing video games and Yata’s talking about how cool it is that they’re gonna be graduating soon, Fushimi smirks and says it’s amazing idiot Misaki passed. Yata’s all shut up and then he grumbles that just because Fushimi got into a fancy university. Fushimi shrugs and languidly says he doesn’t really care about university, Yata’s like no no you have to care and become someone even more amazing. Yata’s starting an apprenticeship after high school, it’s not too far from Fushimi’s university though so he hopes they can still see each other. Fushimi is fiddling with the buttons of his uniform as he makes a small noise of agreement, looking dissatisfied. He says he has to go back to his own dorm and as he gets up the second button falls off his uniform. Yata picks it up and is like wait this fell off, let me sew it back on for you. Fushimi looks at Yata for a long time and then tells Yata to ‘keep it.’
Yata thinks that’s weird and he just pockets the button, figuring Saruhiko is being weird right now and he’ll want this later. Fushimi continues to seem oddly distant for the next few days and even at graduation, Yata’s looking for him because he wants to like take pictures together. He runs into some of his friends from Homra and everyone’s congratulating him, Yata’s really proud of himself when even his former upperclassman Mikoto shows up to tell him good job. Yata asks by the way have you guys seen Saruhiko and one of the Homra guys is like oh yeah wasn’t Fushimi missing his second button on his uniform. Yata doesn’t get why that’s a big deal and he’s like oh yeah I have it here in my pocket. Immediately they’re all just staring at him and Yata’s like what. Kamamoto nervously leans in and quietly lets Yata know what giving the button means, Yata’s like wait no this isn’t that it just fell off…and Saruhiko told me to keep it. Everyone is still giving him a look as it slowly dawns on Yata what just happened here.
He says a quick goodbye to everyone and then goes running to find Fushimi. Fushimi’s already trying to sneak off campus (he’s trying to avoid his doting senpai Munakata who showed up with congratulation flowers). Yata practically tackles him to the ground as he’s like you dumbass why didn’t you just say something. Fushimi has no idea what Yata’s talking about and Yata’s face is all red as he mumbles that how was he supposed to know things if Fushimi doesn’t say them, he knows Yata isn’t very good at romance stuff. Fushimi tries to shrug him off like Yata’s just talking nonsense but Yata presses a fist to Fushimi’s chest, button clasped in his hand as he’s like I know what this means. Fushimi scoffs that Yata has no idea and Yata coughs as he’s like if—if you’re gonna confess then do it properly you idiot, or no one will understand. Fushimi coldly says Yata wouldn't have understood either way and Yata snaps that Fushimi doesn’t know that. Suddenly Yata just pulls the second button off his own uniform and hands it to Fushimi like here, do you get it now dumbass.
15 notes · View notes
ridiasfangirlings · 2 months ago
Note
I just dreamed a traumatizing scenario where SaruMi find out Niki is both of their bio dads and just stare at each other in horror.
Should I have saved this for a Halloween ask, it’s terrifying  XD Imagine some time post-ROK Yata decides maybe he would like to get in touch with his bio-dad, just to like know that part of his family. All he can recall are vague memories of someone scary and that his mom always called that person ‘worthless,’ and while that’s a pretty big deterrent Yata thinks at least for family medical history reasons he should know. Maybe Yata’s biological dad wasn’t even his mom’s first husband but some one night stand whose family name she didn’t know, which makes it challenging for Yata to find out anything about him. He’s complaining about this to Fushimi, who mentions that S4 has access to various DNA samples and if Yata’s dad is that big a criminal he might be in the database. Yata feels a bit weird about giving his DNA to the government but this is Saruhiko so okay, why not.
They end up using S4’s computer system to search through possible suspects and imagine the computer almost immediately comes up with a partial match. Yata’s excited to think maybe he has a sibling somewhere or something, except the match was with Fushimi. Yata’s like wait that doesn’t make sense as Fushimi is just feeling this sense of dawning horror. As soon as they realize Yata matches with Niki poor Fushimi probably has to go throw up or something. I think it would definitely be worse for him than Yata, like Yata just feels weird now and he’s kinda horrified but he also doesn’t know much more about Fushimi’s — their — dad other than that he sucked. For Fushimi though it’s just another trauma dumped on him, that Yata could possibly share the blood of that guy, he would be so disgusted by this. Yata doesn’t really know how to handle it now either because what does this do to the relationship between him and Fushimi and he definitely can’t ask what ‘their’ dad was like (and maybe he’s worried too that there could be some resentment on Fushimi’s part knowing this, that Yata was just left alone to grow up with a loving family while Fushimi had the worst childhood).
6 notes · View notes
ridiasfangirlings · 1 year ago
Note
Sarumi where Fairy Tale Strain casts the Snow White curse on Yata and has him falling into a sleep like death. True Love's Kiss is the only thing that can wake him up. How would this work pre and post reconciliation?
Oh no Yata got hit by the fairytale Strain, if only there was a grumpy prince around to save him 8D Post-betrayal this is probably very awkward, because of course Homra all know who they need to do the kissing but Fushimi would have to get over himself and agree to do it. Imagine Yata even gets hit by the Strain due to Fushimi’s interference somehow, like Homra’s been trying to find this guy for a while because he’s working for some rival gang. Fushimi is also hunting the Strain for S4 reasons but as soon as he sees Yata he immediately abandons his work because teasing Misaki is more fun. They’re about to fight when Yata suddenly yells ‘Saruhiko!’ and jumps in front of him, getting hit by the Strain power. In the aftermath Fushimi yells at Yata because he wasn’t asking to be protected, only to see that Yata is unconscious beside him. No amount of yelling or shaking will wake him, he appears otherwise unharmed but he’s in a deep sleep.
Fushimi sends Homra a quick anonymous message and hovers in the vicinity until they arrive, not like he’s worried or anything but he figures he should at least make sure Homra gathers up their idiot. When he gets back to S4 he does some research on the Strain only because it’s part of his job and finds out that the Strain has ‘fairy tale’ powers and anyone hit by them will fall into a deep sleep, only able to be awakened by true love’s kiss. Fushimi clicks his tongue like ‘stupid,’ probably thinking that what Misaki will want is for Mikoto to kiss him or something. He’s aware that Yata hasn’t woken up as the days go on though, just through rumors, and he keeps telling himself that it’s none of his business. 
Imagine at some point though maybe Anna stops in to see him, like he runs into her and Totsuka in the stables again. Fushimi is all annoyed thinking they’re here to see Basashi but Anna shakes her head and asks Fushimi to come see Misaki. Fushimi scoffs all why would I want to see him, Totsuka laughs and says well we had some ideas on what might wake him up and Anna thought we should stop by. Fushimi refuses to even entertain that, flatly stating he has no idea what they’re talking about, even as Anna tells him Yata’s in hospital and gives him the room number. Fushimi doesn’t intend to do anything with this information — it has nothing to do with him, nothing at all — but maybe he ends up slipping into the room quietly anyway, pressing his lips against Yata’s. He leaves before Yata can move, because Fushimi doesn’t want to know if that’s what really will wake Yata up (he hears later on that yes, Misaki is awake, and tells himself the power just wore off naturally, that’s all).
Post-reconciliation I imagine him being hesitant for an entirely different reason. Like same scenario with Yata getting hit by the Strain and finding out about the ‘true love’s kiss’ thing, imagine Fushimi giving this information to Kusanagi at the bar and literally everyone just looks at him. Fushimi clicks his tongue and mutters why are you all looking at me, saying he’ll do more research to find another way because of course virgin Misaki doesn’t even have a girlfriend. Kusanagi gives him a soft smile as he’s like well I don’t know if you need more research, you might have the answer already, Fushimi clicks his tongue again and says he’ll be in touch, once he’s gone Kusanagi sighs a little and shakes his head like really these two.
Fushimi goes to visit Yata at the hospital and imagine him there alone, leaning over Yata and wondering. He calls Yata an idiot for getting hurt now, right when they reconciled again and weren’t you the one who wanted this the most and now you’re just lying there. Of course part of Fushimi desperately wants to kiss Yata but at the same time he keeps thinking well what if it doesn’t work, what if I’m not what he wants — after all Fushimi’s done how could he of all people possibly be Yata’s’true love.’ He just wants Yata to open his eyes again though and finally Fushimi just leans in and gives Yata a kiss. There’s a moment’s pause and Fushimi grimly thinks ‘what did I expect’…and then Yata’s suddenly kissing him back.
13 notes · View notes
ridiasfangirlings · 1 year ago
Note
So, what if postROK Sarumi are cuddling in their apartment, maybe half asleep on the couch after a long day and Saruhiko sees Mikoto's ghost? Or maybe even vice versa and Misaki sees Munakata's ghost?
Well that’s one way to kill the mood XD Poor Fushimi, stuck as the only one who can see Mikoto’s ghost when he just wants to snuggle with Misaki. Imagine this post-ROK, they’ve made up and are officially dating and everything is going well. Fushimi’s almost finding himself able to relax around Yata, almost able to believe that maybe nothing will be destroyed this time and he can really be with Misaki for good now. One day they’ve both been busy at work and end up just cuddling together on the couch, with Fushimi on the outside. Yata falls asleep and Fushimi’s just drifting off when he thinks he can smell cigarettes. He opens his eyes sleepily and then focuses them on Mikoto, standing right there in the middle of the apartment, and promptly falls off the couch.
This wakes Yata, who blearily asks what’s wrong. Fushimi points wordlessly and Yata looks right at Mikoto as he says he doesn’t see anything. Fushimi pauses and then clicks his tongue, muttering ‘bad dream’ and tells Yata to go back to sleep, he’s going to run to the bathroom and wash his face. Even after splashing his face with water a few times Fushimi still sees Mikoto there and imagine after the shock wears off he’s just so irritated about this, like why the fuck am I being haunted by you. Mikoto shrugs and says he has no idea either, he just ended up here. Fushimi finds himself feeling suddenly protective as he reaches out to touch the sleeping Misaki, like we’re together and we don’t need you so go away. Mikoto blows smoke and says that’s good, Yata’s been waiting for him to figure it out for a while. Fushimi grumbles that don’t act like you know him better than me and Mikoto shrugs, wondering if Fushimi’s so confident why’s he clinging to Yata like his life depends on it.
Fushimi gets this sullen look and mumbles that it’s all Mikoto’s fault — nothing would have changed if it wasn’t for him. Mikoto looks at Fushimi plainly and wonders if Fushimi really believes that, seems to Mikoto that Fushimi just needs someone to blame. Fushimi’s fists clench and he says that’s why he hates Mikoto, Mikoto shrugs again and says that’s fine, Fushimi can hate him if he wants. Fushimi grumbles that Mikoto is always like that, like he doesn’t care who’s in his clan at all, and Mikoto says if that’s what Fushimi thinks he won’t argue — but he wonders what Fushimi’s clinging so hard for, if that’s what he believes. Fushimi sinks into silence and finally he softly says it was easier, to hate Mikoto instead of himself. Mikoto gives him an unexpectedly gentle smile and puts a ghostly hand on his head, he said it before didn’t he: Fushimi’s fine the way he is. Stop trying so hard to be other people, and he’ll be fine. Fushimi looks up and without meaning to he’s like ‘Mikoto-san,’ Mikoto waves to him and tells him to take care of Yata as his ghost fades away to nothing.
Reverse situation, imagine AU where Munakata died at the end of ROK and a bunch of stuff has happened in the aftermath but Fushimi’s doing better now and he and Yata are together. They’re cuddling sleepily on the couch when Yata sees Munakata’s ghost and he’s immediately yelling in surprise. Fushimi wakes up all annoyed and fussy, grumbling at Yata to stop making so much noise. Yata’s stammering out ‘S-Saruhiko — over there — that’s—”. Fushimi irritably looks up, straight at Munakata (who smiles fondly) and then says there’s nothing, telling Yata to be quiet and go back to sleep. Yata stammers out that he’s gonna get a drink he’ll be right back and makes a run for the kitchen.
Munakata’s ghost serenely follows and imagine Yata trying to yell at Ghost!Munakata without Fushimi waking up. Munakata has no idea why he’s a ghost or why only Yata can see him, however he is pleased to see Fushimi doing well. Yata says darkly that Munakata doesn’t get to talk about that — does he know what he put Saruhiko through, dying like that while Fushimi was down risking his life in jungle. Munakata says it was a regrettable outcome but he accomplished his own duty and ensured that Fushimi survived, so he cannot be too displeased. Yata tells him to shut up, like did you even think about Saruhiko and your other people when you died, and Munakata gives him a frank look as he wonders if Yata would say such a thing to Suoh Mikoto as well.
Yata’s mouth snaps shut and he’s like y-yeah, well, that was different this is Saruhiko — but he can’t really argue, and he knows it. Munakata regards him curiously and then tells Yata that he has Munakata’s thanks, for rescuing Fushimi and for helping him recover in Munakata’s absence. Yata awkwardly says he only knew where Fushimi was because Munakata told him, and that this Saruhiko is different from when they were in middle school but it’s not bad, it’s getting better…and as much as Yata hates it, and while Yata won’t forgive Munakata for leaving Saruhiko behind like this, for helping Fushimi get to this point Yata has to thank Munakata. Munakata laughs quietly at that, saying his part is over but he will entrust the rest to Yata as he slowly fades away. 
17 notes · View notes
ridiasfangirlings · 2 years ago
Note
Sooo I was just "lol" at the "Sarumi accidentally married" ask and it occurred to me... Do you know Kyou Kara Maou? What about Misaki as the protagonist who goes to another, magical, world, and then meets this complete jerk of a prince with amazing powers (you know, you already have "hiko" in you name Saru lol). First Misaki tries to befriend him because wow you're awesome and all that, but of course Saru just can't help but to be a snarking idiot mocking him all the time and at one point Misaki is angry enough to impulsively slap him on the face. It wasn't a really strong slap or anything, but now everyone around is staring at them with the most absolute surprise, and Saru looks so utterly shocked that Misaki actually feels a little guilt while being like come on it wasn't THAT big of a deal right
Turns out is WAS that big of a deal because Yata Misaki, the foretold traveler from another world destined to save this kingdom, has just officially offered marriage to prince Fuhimi Saruhiko.
…I am honestly a little upset that this one didn’t cross my mind instantly XD Imagine normal human teenager Yata Misaki is skateboarding one day when he sees these bullies cornering one of his upperclassmen, Munakata Reisi. Yata doesn’t care for that guy but he hates bullies too so he steps in to stop them, Munakata promptly takes his leave and Yata ends up being grabbed by the bullies instead. They decide to punish him by sticking his head in the toilet and the next thing Yata knows he’s been flushed into another world where he’s immediately attacked. He’s saved by Mikoto, who serves the palace and was taking a nap in the bushes when Yata arrived, Yata’s immediately amazed by all Mikoto’s cool powers. Yata gets informed that he’s actually a demon himself and is in fact the prophesied Demon King come to save their country from ruin and strife. 
Obviously Yata’s mind is pretty blown by all this info (and also kinda upset that he doesn’t seem to have any cool powers yet). All the demons he meet seem pretty cool though so Yata’s not too upset about it…until he’s taken to the palace, where he’s told all about how the previous Demon King basically looted the kingdom before running off and he gets to meet that King’s only son, Fushimi Saruhiko. Fushimi’s immediate reaction is that isn’t Yata awfully short for a Demon King, Yata’s like who is this asshole that thinks he can talk back to the King huh. When he finds out Fushimi’s a prince Yata can’t believe it, like aren’t princes supposed to be cool and handsome not asshole nerds like this guy. Fushimi was instrumental in getting the kingdom back into shape after Niki’s disastrous rule so he’s still an important person in the palace though and Yata’s told to try and be on good terms with him, there’s info about their territories and such that only Fushimi knows how to deal with.
Yata can’t believe he has to get along with this jerk but he’s like fine I’ll try. At dinner a few nights later Fushimi is seated at Yata’s right hand and imagine them bickering the whole time, Yata calling Fushimi a little kid for picking his vegetables out of his food and Fushimi mocking Yata as a useless stupid human. Fushimi ends up making some terrible remark about Yata’s mom and Yata can’t take it anymore, someone needs to teach this guy a lesson, and he reaches out and proceeds to slap Fushimi in the face. There is a very long silence, Yata’s advisor Kusanagi just facepalms while his other advisor Totsuka starts clapping, happily congratulating Yata on finding a fiancée so quickly.Yata’s like wait what, Kusanagi quickly hustles the mortified Fushimi away as Totsuka gets to explain that slapping someone in the face is how you propose marriage in their country and Yata has now officially engaged himself to Fushimi.
Yata’s like what the fuck kind of country is this I take it back as Kusanagi walks in with a sigh and tells Yata he can’t take it back, that would be an affront to Fushimi’s honor. Yata decides well I’ll just talk to him and get him to refuse, when he goes to Fushimi’s room it’s clear that Fushimi is both annoyed but also confused because he doesn’t want to marry anyone, he doesn’t need Yata’s pity trying to marry him just because his dad was so awful. Yata had no idea about any of this and it feels awkward to try and take back the proposal now so he just quickly says that well, he thought Fushimi was kinda cool too and Fushimi clicks his tongue all I don’t need a compliment from you, why would I want to marry such a loudmouth shrimp. Yata’s like oh yeah asshole well you’re my fiancée now so just deal with it, Fushimi taunts him again and before he knows it Yata has basically been accidentally baited into reaffirming his engagement with the guy he didn’t even think he liked.
17 notes · View notes
ridiasfangirlings · 2 years ago
Note
s1 sarumi in a "fvck or die" situation
Imagine they get caught by some Strain who has like the power to lock people in a room indefinitely and the only way to get out is to have sex. Fushimi was hunting down the Strain on his own, because that’s how he prefers to work and anyway the power can’t work on him if he doesn’t have another person with him. Of course he forgets all about that the minute he runs into Yata, immediately focused on taunting and teasing Yata instead. As they’re arguing the Strain suddenly tries a surprise attack, Fushimi realizes a moment too late and Yata instinctively tries to get between Fushimi and the Strain, like he doesn’t even stop to think about it his body just moves on its own to protect Saruhiko.
The next thing they both know they’re in a plain white room with no windows and just one door. Yata tries to open the door to no avail while Fushimi checks his PDA and sighs, no signal. Yata tries using his powers but nothing works, there’s no way to break the door. Yata’s starting to get worried, like what the hell is this how do we get out. Fushimi gives him this crooked grin like you don’t idiot, we’re going to die in here unless Captain and S4 can find the Strain before we both die of dehydration. Yata’s like there’s no way, he can’t believe that this is true. Fushimi snaps that this is all Yata’s fault, Yata didn’t need to protect him, and Yata’s like who said I even wanted to protect you anyway. They start to squabble a little and Fushimi ends up unintentionally revealing that they can actually get out of here, they just have to have sex first.
Yata’s like what the hell kind of pervert is this Strain, Fushimi shrugs and says it’s not like he’s interested in having sex with a virgin like Misaki anyway. Yata coughs and is like yeah well I wouldn’t want to…do that with you either, though his face is all red. Fushimi tells Yata to just leave him alone, curling up in a corner of the room to sleep. Time passes and they both start getting more and more anxious, they’re both hungry and thirsty and being in this just plain white room with nothing but each other is wearing on them both. Fushimi keeps telling Yata to stay away from him and not talk to him and at first Yata’s like fine you don’t talk to me either but of course he can’t just sit there in silence and keeps trying to talk with Fushimi, probably trying to ask why Fushimi left Homra. Fushimi doesn’t answer and he just keeps looking more and more haggard, Yata’s getting worried because he doesn’t know how long they’ve been in here and he’s feeling it himself too but he knows how Fushimi’s diet is and when was the last time Fushimi ate or drank.
Yata wonders how much longer they can take this and Fushimi gives this bitter laugh like why does it matter, my only regret is dying with a moron like you. Yata steels himself and finally he’s like ‘you don’t really mean that, do you?’. Fushimi clicks his tongue and Yata says he doesn’t want to die and Fushimi shouldn’t want that either, they need to live so Yata can kick his ass for being a traitor. Yata comes close to Fushimi and for once Fushimi’s the one looking hesitant as he says Yata’s name, Yata takes a deep breath and then leans in and gives Fushimi a tender kiss. Fushimi wonders what Yata thinks he’s doing and Yata’s like ‘this is the only way, right?’. Yata asks if Fushimi’s okay with it — it’s not like he forgives Fushimi or anything but they have to get out of here, and if they keep waiting around rescue might not come. Fushimi just looks at Yata for a long time and then nods, Yata swallows down his own nervousness as he kisses Fushimi again and starts clumsily taking off Fushimi’s pants.
21 notes · View notes