#like Fushimi never forgets Munakata | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

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“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 7: THE BLUE KING (Complete)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

When he woke up as the "Blue King", Munakata's first impression was "I see."

He understood it and became convinced that he was a "king". There was no shame or fear.

Since he was little, he had been thinking about who he was and what he should do.

It can be said that the confusion has cleared up after becoming the "Blue King". Munakata, who was wondering who he was, found a way out when he received the answer: "I am the King."

After becoming "king", he was not mistaken for anything. Even if something doesn't go according to plan, it doesn't upset his emotions and, as an "event that didn't go as expected," he figures out where it should fit and puts things on top in an orderly fashion.

Just except that man is involved.

Munakata was sitting in a tea room set up in his office and thinking about it.

He wondered if he was confused now.

Certainly he is a bit confused. When his emotions are altered, Munakata calmly analyzes his spirit.

Now, in the basement of "Scepter 4", finds the "Red King" Suoh Mikoto. At the moment, the suppressor's hand of different ability is still, but it amounts to a rest. His intention was to stay there.

Yes, if he really wants to stop the royal authority, the royal authority itself must continue to lay down with all its might. Interestingly, as Suoh playfully put it, he stayed for 14 hours. However, even if it was done, Munakata and Suoh's powers are almost the same. It is impossible for Munakata to always beat Suoh, and it is only an act that increases the risk of the swords of Damocles falling.

So, what to do?

Before the red clan finds the "Colorless King" who is Totsuka Tatara's assassin, Munakata must find him first. What will happen to the Weissman deviation from the "Red King" who would have lost the brunt of the revenge? And how likely is it that the man will quietly stop exercising his power and choose a way to hide, even if it is a grain of sand? It is unknown if he is or not, but at the moment there was no other way to do it.

There are other ways, except for Suoh Mikoto's survival condition. However, Munakata has no intention of giving up.

He will not die and, of course, no innocent will die, and the case will be solved. He keeps thinking and acting because of it. It was because he judged that he was "the right thing" as the "Blue King", and at the same time, because of the personality of the human being named Reisi Munakata.

Munakata exhales slowly and opens his eyes.

When Munakata reached for a tea utensil to calm his mind and make tea, the office door was hastily slammed.

"Captain! The Yuishiki (Wisdom) System" once again caught the alleged assassin of Tatara Totsuka!"

Enomoto, a member of the special task force, reported with a short breath. Munakata lifts his eyes with an "Oya."

"The suspicious child is still moving while he was caught in "Yuishiki's" surveillance net several times after being caught passing from the school side to the mainland side under the connecting bridge of Ashinaka High School!"

"Is he still hiding at Ashinaka High School? Awashima-kun reported that the suspect did not belong to the school, but even though he was not a student, he made Gakuenjima a hiding place. Is there any reason why he could?"

"What about you, Captain?"

Munakata got to his feet quickly.

"It's a dispatch. Let's set up a siege net so the suspect won't notice it. Keep the suspect in a place that doesn't involve the general public, not even in battle. Fushimi-kun will be in charge of personnel. Awashima-kun She was scheduled to go home today, so sorry, call her back as an emergency."

"Understood!"

Enomoto greets him and hurries.

Munakata looked out the window. The rain washes the window pane and the other side sinks into darkness.

"A mysterious boy. Let me show you your true identity."

Munakata pulled up his glasses and stood alone, adjusted his shoes and left the office.

++++++++++

He couldn't see the downcast boy, and he said something to cheer him up.

As he looked at the boy, who seemed to have recovered a bit, Kuro gently touched the sheath of the "Kotowari" sword entrusted to him by his master, Ichigen Miwa, with his left hand.

It is true that he cannot kill him until it is determined if the new "Colorless King" is good or bad. Ichigen Miwa would never punish based on suspicion.

But more than that, Kuro knew that he had placed himself on this boy's shoulders. Seeing the confused and trustworthy boy, he wanted to be purely useful.

If, after investigating the truth, it turns out that the boy is really the culprit and has lost his memory, could he kill him?

(Ichigen-sama. I will keep my promise. I am prepared to carry out the mission that Ichigen-sama gave me to the end, even if it costs my life.)

But this guy... at least this guy in front of him, he's not evil. Even if this boy's past may be that of a sinner, now that he is anxious because he cannot understand his past and his true identity, he is an ordinary person who loves and appreciates his friends.

(Will I be able to find the true identity of this boy's past, and if it turns out that he was evil, can I forget his appearance in front of me and cut him off? I wonder if I am a mature and weak-hearted person who thinks about such things. Ichigen-sama…)

He wanted an answer from Ichigen Miwa and he wanted to press the button on the tape recorder.

However, at that moment, a strong light fell on Kuro and the boy.

Suddenly, the strong white light hit his eyes, and Kuro covered his face with his arms. At the same time that they knew that the night lights were all on at once, they realized that they were surrounded by darkness.

"God of the night sword, Kuro! And his accomplice!"

A woman's voice with a clear pitch flew through the speaker.

A stretched-back woman, dressed in a blue uniform, stood at the edge of the stadium with members who seemed to be her subordinates. "Scepter 4", Lieutenant Awashima Seri.

"We are 'Scepter 4'! According to Article 2 of the Special Phenomenon Management Act, we will take them into custody!"

Awashima holds up a PDA and projects his "Scepter 4" membership card into the air with a hologram to prove his identity.

"Wel,l uh... I don't know what's going on, but I'm sorry..."

"We refuse!"

After being dragged away and interrupting the boy who apologized for not understanding the meaning, Kuro said that out loud.

Awashima must have expected resistance as a matter of course. As soon as she stepped on the procedure, she changed the air she was carrying for a combative one and touched the handle of her sword.

"Everyone, draw your swords!"

Under Awashima's command, the members of "Scepter 4" lined up in a row draw their sword one after another.

"Awashima, batto."

The sword that carries blue light is gently drawn. The spirit that overflowed from Awashima's body was a bit different from the other members. Feeling that it was quite well done, Kuro was ready. He takes a step forward to hide the restless boy behind him.

Defeat Awashima while he protects the boy and breaks the siege of other members of "Scepter 4." The world was distorted when Kuro was slightly frowned upon under difficult conditions.

When he realized it, the view of the stadium had disappeared, and Kuro and the boy were in the middle of the jumbled intersection in front of Shizume Station.

"What's going on...?"

The boy leaked a confused voice. The empty night stadium suddenly became a crowded city during the day. It seems like he was dreaming during the day, but if he looks closely, he can see that there are members of "Scepter 4" behind the crowd, and they are also surprised and confused. If it is a "dream", then the city scene he is looking at is a dream.

Kuro remembered this feeling, chasing the boy in Gakuenjima and being teased by Neko.

Kuro was at the mercy of the illusions that were unleashed one after another.

So this is it.

Neko ran in from the other side before Kuro searched her. The boy rolls his eyes at her.

"Oh, Neko."

Neko emerges from the crowd, shaking her long hair and exposing her naked and white body, just like when they first met. She quickly took the boy's arm and ran to guide him. Kuro also followed them silently and ran through the crowd.

A phenomenon like they suddenly moved to a different place, "Scepter 4" was confused by the appearance of a large number of ordinary people, this was a perceptual interference caused by a person with abilities, and it seems that they realized that the people passing by were not real human beings.

The members lined up at the place where the exit "should be", and began to put a shield with their blue power to not let the boy escape.

"The exit is over there."

He consults with Neko.

"Yes! Beyond that blue boy!"

After that, she turns into a kitten to make it easier to escape. Kuro gave a visual cue to the boy, jumped up alone and knocked down the members who raised the shield.

No matter what fallen limbs they were, Kuro ran in the direction that seemed to have a way out. The boy and Neko also immediately follow Kuro.

However, a blue slash attack passed in front of him as if he was going, and Kuro, who was running in front, took a step forward and stopped. Immediately the blade of the sword passes over the tip of his nose.

The blue bar was sharp and straight. There was a deep straight crack in the concrete, but it was not destroyed. It was a sharp force that accurately pierced only the target.

Kuro turns towards the direction the bar was released. As expected, Awashima was holding her sword.

"I'll take care of this! Go protect your place!"

Awashima gives the instructions while she looks at Kuro. The fallen limbs quickly recovered and attended.

After all, it seems that the fight is inevitable, and Kuro took an offensive stance, holding "Kotowari's" sheath with his left hand. Behind the scenes, the boy's annoying breathing sounds.

"Back off."

Amid the phantom crowd, Kuro confronts Awashima.

Whether the woman with the sword is standing or the man with the sword is holding it, the phantom passersby walk without worrying about it. Kuro disappeared from his consciousness.

"Draw your sword, I don't care."

Awashima makes a cheering gesture with her jaw, as he keeps his sword in his sheath. But Kuro doesn't move.

"This sword is not to cut you."

"If so, you will be cut off by someone like me!"

Awashima closed the distance in one step. The distance between the two instantly disappeared, and Awashima's sword, radiating a blue glow, pierced the place where Kuro stood. Kuro jumped at that moment. He kicked the surface of the street with his landing foot and Kuro made his way to Awashima. He didn't draw his sword, but he swung a fist with Colorless power. The opponent is a strong fighter. He shook the fact that she was a woman out of his head and shook his fist mercilessly, but Awashima squirmed and shook it.

Awashima, who flew up and took distance, fired another slash from a distance. The blade of blue light came flying, but during the period of the sword, the trajectory of the cut is changed by the power of spatial manipulation in the right hand.

It is a retreat.

Neither attack has reached the other yet. She didn't feel like losing, but there was something that was a bit difficult for Awashima as it was still a fist. It is not good to have a long-term battle.

Still, he had no intention of overtaking her. This sword cannot be drawn due to Kuro's circumstances.

That's something to scoop and shake only when Miwa's mission is accomplished.

Even though it was at Kuro's waist, it was not Kuro's sword, but Miwa Ichigen's sword.

++++++++++

As he listened to reports of what was happening inside the stadium, Munakata sipped relaxed tea.

Traveling to the assigned place in the specially equipped command vehicle is a good thing, as he can enjoy the tea he missed at the office. The field in the rain has a strange atmosphere.

The sound of the rain hitting the umbrella is not bad either.

"You are missing a deciding factor."

Fushimi said from inside the command vehicle. Munakata replied with a "Hm."

There is no distinction between private time and public time for Munakata. If the fights are every day, bedtime is for the well-being and order of the greatest number of people. Members who know the nature of Munakata are no longer surprised that Munakata brews tea and drinks on site.

"Please go to work now."

He is not surprised, but Fushimi says that with a slightly displeased voice. Munakata said "Hm." Again.

The situation inside the stadium that can be heard is quite interesting.

A crowd that suddenly appeared, what appears to be an extraordinary sensory interference ability.

Awashima, who has the best sword skills of "Scepter 4" except for Munakata, and Kuro Yatogami, a vassal of the predecessor "Colorless King" who fights more than equal without drawing his sword.

And the boy who is suspected of killing Tatara Totsuka, who claims to be the new "Colorless King" protected by them.

The night sword god, Kuro, is unlikely to serve the new assassin king, even if the "Colorless King" has been replaced, even if the person with the unknown perceptual jamming skill is left behind.

Munakata also learned about Kuro Yatogami's story. He is a vassal called "loyal dog" who has sworn "allegiance" to Miwa Ichigen.

Why is he doing this? Was there any instruction from Miwa Ichigen in his life?

Munakata remembers the "Colorless King", Miwa Ichigen, that he once saw.

He was a kind man dressed in Japanese clothes. He seemed to be ill and had a dream related to it, but he also sported an aura that was more than compensated for. He had a mysterious dignity, a power opposed to violent power, it can be said that his figure generated confidence.

The unique power of that "King" was "prediction". Certainly, he was an impressive person with eyes that looked through everything.

"I wonder if this situation was also foreseen."

Munakata muttered, carefully placed the empty tea bowl on the floor and stood up.

++++++++++

Awashima's cut was intercepted by Kuro.

Awashima began to show annoyance at Kuro, who continued to deflect the attack when he was slimy from space manipulation.

She can feel the movement of the muscles throughout her body, the blue light that envelops her body becomes brighter and the hand holding the sword gains more power.

Along with the exhalation of smoke, she put force on the blade and launched a cut through space.

"This is not a problem!"

The blue bar turned into a grid and attacked Kuro. In a deadly attack similar to a throwing net, Kuro also put his luck in his right hand.

Attacks with such a wide range are difficult to deflect from the trajectory.

He extended the power of the colorless extraordinary ability in his right hand in a way that made the palm huge, caught the bar in a grid shape from the front, and canceled it later with a countermeasure.

With that impulse, Kuro kicked the ground.

When he gets close to Awashima, who had a gap right after launching a big move, he tries to punch with her.

The color of his mind changed.

Horribly, Kuro stopped moving.

A blue sword hovered over the ghost town of Shizume.

A mysterious, majestic giant sword that is made of mineral, but has an organic atmosphere.

"The sword of Damocles!"

The landscape around the sword began to distort into blue like a paralyzed image. The blue distortion constantly spreads around the sword and erodes the world of lies created by Neko.

Slowly, a man walked under the sword.

He was approached by a man with glasses and a fearless smile, with a blue light pouring out of his body. He was a man with beautiful eyes, but there was a terrifying horror hidden behind his eyes.

Kuro took a deep breath and involuntarily stepped back and braced himself.

The "Blue King" Reisi Munakata.

Munakata approached in front of Awashima and stopped.

"Thank you for your hard work. Thanks to you, I was able to understand the situation."

"Huh."

"Let's go to work, because Fushimi-kun is loud."

Munakata's bottomless eyes turned to Kuro, the boy, and Neko in the form of a kitten that the boy is holding in his arms.

Munakata looks at them with interest for a while, then laughs and takes a step forward.

As soon as Munakata's foot stepped on the surface of the street, a blue distortion spread out from under Munakata's foot. He repaints the surface of the street blue with the force of the water that overflows and spreads suddenly and spreads through the air. The "correct world" appears from the blue distortion.

The scrambled intersection at Shizume disappears into a wet lawn, and the clear daytime sky turns into the rainy night sky.

Neko, the kitten the boy was holding, turned into a human girl.

"Nya!"

Neko, who has reverted to her original form, hides behind the boy as if she is scared to see Munakata's figure.

"I see, there is an unknown third person involved, a Strain? It exerts a force in a specific area centered on itself, and interferes with the perception and recognition of humans in it at the same time and manipulates it freely. It is a dangerous ability."

Munakata quickly raised a hand. The bustling and bright city of Shizume, which had been disappearing, completely disappeared, and returned to the original stadium at night when it was raining.

The members who gained power with the appearance of the "King" set out to capture the boy.

Before the swordsmen, the boy raised both his hands to show them that he was not harmful to them. Neko next to him, she imitates him without knowing why.

"Um... do you want to join us?"

The boy said that looking at Kuro.

Kuro makes his expression steep and takes off the unpleasant situation in front of him.

The "Blue King". He is not an opponent that he can fight and win against. However, it is difficult for three people to escape. Neko's ability is effective for subordinate clansmen, but not for the "Blue King".

However, if only members other than a "King" are involved, there is a strong possibility that they can escape with Neko's power.

Kuro rolled his eyes on one of the subordinates.

"I'll stop him. You defend yourselves."

The boy made a confused voice, but Neko showed an understanding demeanor. This guy is stupid, but he's such an easy-going guy that he doesn't refuse what is important. Assuming he could take the boy and escape, Kuro quickly glanced at the members blocking the exit.

He activated his extraordinary ability, grabbed the head of one of the two limbs blocking the exit and used his ability to withdraw his body from the exit immediately. The member whose head was grabbed by the strange hand, was thrown against the other.

"Let's go!"

The breakthrough has opened. The boy was still confused, but Neko grabbed the boy's hand without hesitation and ran out the exit made by Kuro.

Kuro stood in a position to protect the exit where the two of them came out on their backs, and looked at the colorful limbs at a glance. Awashima calmly orders her subordinates outside to block the entrance passage.

Munakata was smiling an amused smile.

"I see. So you chose to sacrifice yourself."

As if swallowed by Munakata's intimidating feeling, Kuro inadvertently grabs the handle of the sword.

"The celebrated sword, "Kotowari"."

Munakata narrowed his eyes and looked at the sword at his waist that Kuro touched.

"The seventh king, the 'Colorless King', the sword of Miwa Ichigen. It is a good idea to cut me with this sword, but you decided never to take it out except to fulfill Miwa's mission."

However, ashamed of himself that he lost his temper and touched the handle of the sword, Kuro removed his hand from the sword and attacked Munakata.

The attack was evaded without raising an eyebrow.

The lower part of the palm, which was stretched over and over without rest, could be easily avoided. Munakata, who was still in a position with his hands folded behind him, even seemed to be waiting for the moment to remind him, watching the childish ruckus.

Munakata's room for maneuver increases Kuro's impatience and increases the number of attacks to desperately eat him.

When the bottom of his palm, which was pointed at his jaw, cut across the sky, his cheeks stretched. His face was fine, so he hit it with a flat hand.

Instead of punching, a slap that does not recognize the other as an opponent fighting on an equal footing damages self-esteem more than the cheek.

Gently biting his back teeth, Kuro jumps up. Munakata avoided the spinning kick that tried to hit him and dodged it with minimal movement, and grabbed Kuro's head that was landing with his palm.

"Did you get it? I'm saying you still lack."

Putting strength into the hand that grabbed his head, Kuro feels pain when he seems to hear the sound of the piercing of his skull. He suddenly tried to reach for the sword again. He heard Munakata say satisfactorily: "Okay."

He realized what he was trying to do and stopped his hand.

Munakata frowned at the scene.

"You are an indistinguishable child."

From under Munakata's palm, Kuro stands up.

As if to shake himself off, Kuro shakes his head with all of his might. He could easily remove her hand from him. No, he was separated.

Is he playing or testing him?

Gritting his teeth, Kuro challenges Munakata again. He slaps the palm of his hand, fires a kick, and keeps shaking, biting and killing the sense of helplessness that seems to sprout, whether Munakata's move doesn't crack one bit, or there is a gap.

Munakata removed the sword from his waist and swung it slightly like a guard stick to attack Kuro. Kuro puts the scabbard on the protruding arm and moves it, grabs the kicking leg.

At the moment when Kuro was slightly unbalanced, Munakata, who turned around slightly, hit him hard with the sword sheath.

Even though it didn't seem like he had put much effort into it, the blow was strong, choking Kuro's breath and his spine screaming at him. He managed to drop it.

"You can't help being so stubborn."

Speaking in a sighing voice, Munakata seemed to give up on Kuro drawing the sword from him and turned to attack. He used the sword that was still in the sheath to push it out, and used the tip and body of the sword to throw it where Kuro avoided it.

His world spun around and he slammed into the damp ground without being passive. He jerked to his feet, lost his sense of balance for a moment, swallowed the ironic blood that had spilled from his mouth just now.

"God of the night sword. Let's finish the game here."

For Munakata, it was just a play.

He didn't reward him, but he didn't throw it away, and Kuro took off Munakata and rushed in with a loud voice.

"I refuse!"

With power in his right hand, he struck head-on. Munakata stood upright and no longer tried to dodge it. Just before Kuro's fist reached Munakata, Munakata moved only his right hand. He defeated Kuro's attack with his sword sheath with a thin layer of blue power.

He could see the black night sky as he flew out and raindrops kept falling. The view changed, and this time the green grass moved closer to his eyes and slid away as he rubbed his face against the ground.

Shortly after getting up, he felt weight and pain on his back. Munakata's boots were trampling on Kuro's back from above his arms that were spinning behind him. His internal organs were compressed and an involuntary voice leaked out.

"Well, let's move on to the main topic."

Munakata said that with a calm voice that he couldn't believe he was trampling on people.

"You stayed to face me. It's a wonderful personal sacrifice. Is that boy the Lord you serve now?"

Kuro lowered his head and didn't reply.

"The "Colorless King". The seventh and weakest "King". Although he is not a powerful entity in himself, he is a clown "King" who has the property of controlling the balance of power between "Kings". In other words, one of the most vigilant for me. That boy is the new "Colorless King" who replaces Miwa."

Munakata leaned over and approached Kuro, touching the back of his neck.

"Please answer."

The hand that touched Kuro's head is full of power. Kuro was small.

"My master Ichigen-sama said to examine it."

"Well, what is your decision?"

Intent on opening the gap, Kuro taps Munakata's foot on his back and leaps like a spring. However, the moment he turned to Munakata, Munakata's sword sheath calmly pierced Kuro's groove.

"Guh… No one will lay a hand on him until they can identify him."

"I see. That may be your intention."

The tip of the sword sheath pointed at Kuro's throat. Kuro didn't move, didn't change his expression and looked towards Munakata.

The sword at the throat twitched and Kuro's jaw lifted.

"As long as he maintains such a warm situation where he is neither good nor bad, you can join the guard as the 'Black Dog'. He couldn't ask for a stronger worse. It's easy to fool yourself and the people around you with that Strain girl. We may be in on that boy's trick. Don't you think?"

For some reason, Kuro felt a bit weird.

His whole body hurt a lot. He has the feeling that he is doing it, he is protecting him until he is in that state.

"That could be it. The only things that come out of his mouth are lies and a constant laugh. That's the kind of person he is."

"Is it worth risking your life for such a man?"

Kuro relaxed his expression and smiled a selfish smile.

His job is to identify it and he cannot give it to "Scepter 4". That's true, but it doesn't make sense that Kuro himself is restricted by "Scepter 4". After all, he realized that he believed him and protected him because of his personality.

Kuro opened his mouth to reply.

The lights shining in the stadium suddenly went out and darkness fell before Kuro spoke a word.

++++++++++

The boy was dragged by Neko and ran down the hall of the stadium. The members of "Scepter 4" who come to catch them are defeated by Neko's illusion, and Neko's detection ability finds a path without people and points to the exit.

Escape, escape.

(Oh I'm just running away.)

Escaping from "Homura", escaping from Kuro, escaping self-suspicion, escaping from facing the truth and trying to surrender, and now again, he is leaving Kuro where he's trying to escape from.

(Are you running away?)

Feeling scolded by someone, the boy stopped.

"Shiro, hurry!"

Neko rushed over, turning to the boy who stopped and stopped moving.

"I'm sorry, Neko. After all, I can't escape."

"Why?!"

The boy turned to Neko.

"Neko. Please help me. I will return to rescue Kuro. With your cooperation, I am sure I can do it."

You are a director. Do you understand the production? It's about decorating and coming up with various things to make it look "like this." Even if you are not strong, you must be strong, and if you are not a king, you must do your best to look like a king.

The boy told Neko like that and told him his strategy.

First, he turns off the stadium lights. He really didn't have to turn it off, because he didn't have time to search for a power source. Neko's power made it seem like there was no electricity.

Next, the boy appeared in the public seats of the stadium with a small emission of light. This emission of light is also Neko's power. All the people with mysterious powers are glowing in various colors, so she decided to make the boy glow as well. She enveloped him in a colorless light.

From the public seats in the high place, he can see the stadium.

Kuro looked hurt, holding on weakly, his clothes ripped and kneeling. The hair that he was always tied up is also frayed and falling out.

The boy frowns when he realizes that he has caused an unreasonable battle.

Among the members of "Scepter 4" who were upset when the lights went out, Munakata stared at the boy without moving.

"Oh, did you forget something?"

"Idiot! Why did you come back?!"

Kuro, who started to get up in a hurried voice, was knocked down by the sheath of Munakata's sword and fell to the ground. He looked painful and the boy frowned.

"Oh, I guess I can't abandon my friends, right?"

The boy smiled as he scratched his head, Munakata raised the edge of his mouth in a laugh and pulled up his glasses.

"I see, so you shared your destiny again. What a noble gesture, but it doesn't make sense."

"No, it's not that it doesn't make sense."

"What?"

The boy clasps both hands imitating the movement of thanking for the food.

"Kuro, I'm sorry! I've been lying to you! Actually, this is who I am!"

The boy slowly releases the combined hands. Then, a small sword-shaped illuminant appeared between the boy's hands, as if it was a substitute for a business card.

As it grows, it rises upward, becoming a powerful sword and shining brightly on the boy.

Everyone in the place looked at the sword with a shocked face.

The Sword of Damocles Colorless.

(It's false.)

"Kuro... can you hear me?"

While everyone's conscience was focused on the boy's sword of Damocles, the boy borrows Neko's ability to speak with Kuro's conscience. It is a pseudo-telepathy that makes Kuro recognize that "the boy is speaking directly to his head".

"From now on, I will make a momentary hole in the 'Blue King'. Follow him and flee the place."

The boy smiled and unleashed the vibration of "King" power from his body.

Munakata erased the fringe of his expression and developed blue power with a serious face. To receive the boy's power, he turns his palm towards the boy and focus the power on it.

However, the moment the boy's power and Munakata's power came into contact, Munakata looked on suspiciously.

Kuro correctly captured that moment. He jumped from under Munakata's legs onto his back and struck Munakata's side with his fist.

The blow went straight to Munakata, who was aware of the boy. He didn't stagger, but his glasses flew off.

From the place where the glasses fell to the ground, Kuro ran out and slipped between the stunned and useless members.

The boy took a breath. Then the boy's body disappears as if he is melting in the night breeze. The boy who appeared in front of the people from "Scepter 4" was a ghost made by Neko. The real boy would hide behind the public seats and observe a number of situations. He exchanged a quiet "high five" with Neko who was hiding next to him, and we also began to move to escape.

He went through the passage of the stadium while he hid with the power of Neko. As he ran, he heard the sound of destruction and the voices of various men. The boy turns his foot in that direction.

"Kuro!"

Sure enough, he saw Kuro running while he defeated the members of "Scepter 4."

When Kuro notices the boy, he stops and waits for the boy and Neko to catch up.

Kuro's appearance seen in the immediate vicinity seemed to be more damaged than when he saw him from a distance, and the boy tried to hold his breath and say thanks and apologize.

However, Kuro controls the boy who is about to open his mouth and turns to the front.

"Save the talk for later. Let's go."

"Yes."

"Nya!"

It was not difficult to break the siege without the "Blue King" and the main force.

They escaped the stadium, shook off their pursuers, and finally stopped and breathed into the back alley away from the scene.

Kuro staggered a bit and knelt like a broken thread.

"Hey, hey, are you okay?"

"It's nothing serious. I'll be back in two minutes."

The boy was in a hurry, but Kuro said that in a calm voice.

Maybe "Scepter 4" is also closing in on the police, the sirens of police cars have been heard for a while.

The three of them were silent for a while in the dark and gloomy alleys, bathed in unstoppable rain.

The boy looked up at the sky. The sky seen from the back alley was like a thin, unreliable crack. The falling raindrops reflected the light that filtered through the building's windows and sometimes sparkled.

The boy caught the raindrops on his face and turned around looking into their eyes.

The three of them ate a delicious breakfast prepared by Kuro and a lunch box. He thought he could prove his alibi. He found a bloody shirt. Kukuri told him that she didn't know him. He did not have a family home. He lost sight of Isana's existence, the one he believed in. He was cornered by the "Blue King", but Kuro protected him. He knew what he could do with Neko's power.

The boy lowered his eyebrows and smiled. He spoke gently to Neko to show her that he had no intention of blaming her.

"You know, Neko… you were great a while ago."

Neko shook her shoulders in surprise. She looked down with an anxious and crying face.

"The people in blue were amazing, but the sky suddenly cleared up, the landscape around me changed and a lot of people came out. And you helped us."

"What do you mean?"

It's not always how Neko wants it, she said that quietly and backed away.

The appearance of being afraid of something makes him want to leave it as it is. But the boy can no longer escape.

"The 'Blue King' talked about how you can interfere with people's senses, was that what he was talking about?"

"It's not just about hallucinations and hearing. She can even manipulate memories."

Kuro was silent for a moment and slowly stood up.

"What do you mean?"

"This girl can implant false memories in your mind, making people you just met believe that they are old friends."

The boy came to mind, all the faces of the friends he made in Gakuenjima. They kindly called him "Shiro", shared the side dishes from the lunch box and laughed together.

Although he was a friend, Kukuri said on the phone that she did not know the boy. That was true of Kukuri, who had fallen outside of Neko's range of abilities.

"Oh... I see. I understand. The story finally connected... So, Neko."

The boy turned to Neko with a smile on his face.

"It's like my amnesia, heal it a bit. Then it will be clear if I am the bad king they are chasing, right?"

Kuro was pleased that he led the way to the truth, but he remained bumpy, then said...

"If you are found to be the evil 'King', I will kill you on the spot."

"Well... that's correct."

"It's life threatening. Why don't you think about it and calm down a bit?"

"I'm calm. I…"

The sound of rain is strengthened. For some reason, Kuro had a confused look.

"It's okay to talk about the matter after we've escaped from this place for now..."

The boy smiled bitterly. He seems like he is a kind person who tries to give the boy an escape route, even though he is trying to find out. Honestly, he is happy for that kindness. However, he already felt that he had "escaped" enough. He thought that he shouldn't run away anymore.

"I'm tired of it. For the moment, this place is for the moment. Even if I extend the conclusion as usual, there is no way forward. If I don't clarify it here and now, I'm not going anywhere."

Ever since he met Kuro, he has been engulfing himself in smoke. However, Kuro continued to face the boy seriously. He should reward that honesty. The boy said in his own words, the conclusions he had drawn seriously and his feelings.

"I don't know what kind of person I was originally, and no matter what I did in the past, I feel like now I have to take responsibility."

"What good words… they don't fit you."

The boy laughed.

Kuro's hesitation was only for a moment. The next time he looked at the boy, his eyes were full of determination. Kuro touches the handle of the sword.

"It's okay."

"Very good, everything settled. Do it, Neko."

The boy laughed as Neko cowered fearfully. Kuro also turns his serious eyes towards Neko.

"Undo your spell completely. No tricks."

Neko's eyes trembled.

++++++++++

Neko was confused. She was more confused and lost than ever.

Neko thought that she had "the power to really lie". Then, she with that power, she made the boy and the people around her believe in lies and she made them a "truth", and she stayed with the boy "like a white cat".

But Neko's lie didn't turn into "truth". The boy seems sad because the lie was still a "lie". He smiles at Neko, but the boy is really sad. Neko got it.

Neko has been alone the entire time. She has been wandering alone for a long time, so long that she cannot remember when she was a lonely stray cat.

It was a little better after she came to Gakuenjima and made it her territory. There weren't many people who bully cats and it was easy to steal food from the coffee shop. The man in the coffee shop would immediately get angry saying "thief", but even if he raised his fist, he didn't actually hit the cat.

If she doesn't want to anger him, she simply leaves the island and goes to the nearby cafe "Yamadaya", where usually goes to school people, and the cat-loving merchant helps her. Even the people of Gakuenjima were quite interesting to see. She also thought that everyone preparing for the festival was funny.

However, since Neko was a cat, she was alone looking at people who seemed to be having fun from outside. Even if the people there didn't intimidate Neko, she was scared, so she didn't want to get close to them.

Just the boy. Neko wanted to get closer to him, and stay by his side forever.

(But Shiro is sad, even though I am Shiro's cat. It would be difficult if he lost the "true". I can no longer hold on to a lie out of selfishness.)

Neko closed her eyes.

(I don't like Shiro being sad. Therefore, I will return the "true" before Shiro became Shiro.)

Neko banishes the false memories she implanted in Shiro.

It was a lie to be a student of Gakuenjima.

It was a lie to be friends with Kukuri and the others.

The boy's memories were also a lie. What Neko saw in Gakuenjima and what the boy's own memory related in a spongy way to make him look like this.

His name Isana Yashiro was also a lie.

Neko met the boy who had fallen from the sky.

That day was a cold night.

Gakuenjima was relatively safe and comfortable territory that Neko found during a long journey, but cold winter nights were no different than anywhere else, and Neko wanted a warm and soft bed. She got into the gym and curled up on the mat.

Suddenly, the roof of the gym cracked with a loud noise and something large fell.

Neko was amazed, jumped up and flew away.

It was a child who had fallen.

At the boy who fell on the gym mat, Neko panicked and lifted the hair from all over her body, curled her back and raised her ears and tail to look bigger, and puffed up her entire body.

The boy got up slowly. He lifted his half body onto the mat and looked mysteriously around him.

Whether it was a demon or a monster, Neko was even more intimidating.

"Hm? Hey… what about you?"

The boy spoke to Neko in a soft and somewhat relaxed voice, despite the ridiculous appearance of going through the ceiling and falling. He apologized to the intimidating Neko and lowered his eyebrows.

"Ah, were you surprised? I'm sorry."

The expression of the boy who scratched his head and smiled like he was in trouble was so gentle that Neko suddenly didn't know what to do.

The boy's eyes looking at Neko were deep and soft. Neko was confused by the eyes that seemed to absorb all of Neko's fear.

He was different from a cat-loving person (that scared her) that has a desire to stroke a cat all over her body. Her alertness melted and disappeared, his gaze seemed to catch Neko. Neko stopped threatening him and gently approached the boy's heart.

Neko's power begins when she touches the other person's heart. She touched his heart and assembled the parts and memories of him, giving it the shape she wanted.

There were many blank spaces in the heart that Neko touched, and in those spaces the feeling of "loneliness" rolled without protection. She felt that it was very similar to Neko's heart shape.

The boy looked at Neko with a kind smile.

Neko was afraid to approach the boy. The boy did not hesitate to approach, he just approached and showed his willingness to accept her.

Neko dares to jump onto the boy's arm. The boy took Neko and caressed her with a soft hand.

(Hot.)

The boy's hands were hot. It was someone else's temperature, which she felt after a long time.

In the gym at night, when the moonlight pierced through the perforated ceiling, the moment she felt the boy's body temperature, she felt as if were the two of them alone in the world.

The boy who made Neko recall his memory, was confused.

He certainly remembered the moment when he became "Isana Yashiro". It also means that the memory of him as "Isana Yashiro" started from that moment. He also remembered that he for some reason broke the roof of the gym and when he fell he ran into Neko.

However, the previous memory is still pure white.

"This is the end? What are my memories before this?"

"This comes first! Shiro fell from the sky!"

"It's over...?"

Kuro also seems confused.

"Wagahai found Shiro! Wagahai picked Shiro up! That's why Shiro's mine! Shiro's from Neko!"

Neko appeals with all her might from him. But she can't convince him here. What the boy needs is the truth before he becomes "Isana Yashiro".

"I wonder if I can remember what happened before Neko found me. I want to know that."

"So... will Shiro disappear somewhere? Will Shiro no longer be Shiro?"

Neko said that while being filled with anxiety.

However, the boy smiles. Isana Yashiro was a non-existent person. But still, the fact that Neko called him "Shiro" was not a lie. The boy's existence won't go away.

"Okay, because I'm Neko's Shiro, right?"

Speaking proudly, Neko smiled again.

"Then I'll try!"

The boy's body was exposed to strong winds.

The hem of the boy's hair and clothes were violently fanned by the cold, strong wind. It is a high place. He was in a very, very high place. The sky where the stars are scattered was near. The air felt thin. In such a place, the boy clung to somewhere with just his arm. Somewhere? Things that fly in the sky. It was not an airplane. It was not a helicopter. That was an airship. The boy barely clung to the floor of the airship's open hatch, his legs swinging in the air.

A great laugh was heard.

There was a man standing in the hatch, looking at the boy and laughing.

A white man with long silver hair blowing in the wind.

He looked at the boy with a distorted smile, lifted one leg slightly and kicked him.

"Goodbye."

The boy who was knocked down falls. He could hear the roar of the wind cutting off his ears. The silver-haired man quickly walked away, and when he thought that he could see the full image of the airship, it soon became smaller and farther away, the sky was far away, a tall building was reflected on the edge of the field of vision. He then he hit his back against something and broke it.

Suddenly, the boy opened his eyes.

The boy's consciousness, who made a brief journey through the memories, quickly regained his sense of reality. Whether in the cold air behind the rainy alleys or in the brief, but shocking memories he remembered, the boy winced.

"Now... who was he?"

Neko eagerly looked at the boy, and Kuro also turned his eyebrows and dropped his hand on the sword's handle.

"Shiro...?"

"What happened? Do you remember something?"

The boy couldn't answer immediately and looked at the sky silently. A ship "flying" crossed the narrow sky between the buildings.

++++++++++

Inside the airship, the man was humming a song.

The airship was quite comfortable. However, he lay down on the couch placed on the large floor and looked through the monitor.

Many photographs were projected on the monitor located on the ground.

"I wonder if the chaos has been reduced well."

Looking down at the ground, he laughed deep in his throat. When he rolled over on the couch and lay down, his long silver hair flowed softly from his shoulders and fell to the floor.

"But I don't like you, Isana Yashiro. Why are you still alive?"

The images on the floor monitor were of a boy with a red umbrella.

#K #k project #k the first story #k novel

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roleplay-abiogenesis2 · 4 years ago

Text

RP Log || The Other Side of the Mirror

Continues from Chapter 10.

Chapter 11

‘Are you out of your mind? He hates your guts. Nothing in the world will change his mind. He doesn’t understand, never will either!’ was all Fushimi wanted to hit his younger self with, only to find himself fazed, transfixed into his position with zipped lips that refused to say another word. The damage to his psyche would be even more severe than it already had been, if he told him about Yata.

If this had happened before 7th grade, his reaction to getting hit in the face would have been much worse. Saruhiko hated being touched. Still did, really. And back then would react violently to it. He had headbutted his own bullies before for doing much less than this. It was a self defense mechanism enforced by his interactions with ’That guy’, really.

But after seventh grade there was Misaki. So manic, so touchy feely. He had exhausted Saruhiko into acceptance of his nature, either by flat out not listening to him when he told him to stop wrapping his arm around his neck to pull him down at his level playfully, or by just forgetting that he didn’t like it when he fell asleep against his shoulder on the bus. Not to mention all the times his friend got so engrossed in playing his racing games on his handheld console, he’s start swinging his body left and right to accompany the turns of the digital vehicle, bumping into him, knocking sodas from his hand and spilling it. Saruhiko would call him stupid and remind him that didn’t help at all, the other would curse following a game over and give him the blame for distracting him.

He had, to put it in very loose terms, been broken into some degree of physical contact. The fights alongside Homra had done the rest and gotten him used to pain when he would get it. So really, all what was left for him to deal with was the surprise factor.

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get where the tension and anger he had felt in that strike came from. If he was so worried about his safety he could just come along, or call Misaki here where the environment was in his control. Did they not even talk anymore? Just how bad was the situation?

Not ready for him? What did that even mean? What had happened to Yata?

He stood there, frozen and with his head only slightly low, eyes fixed into nothingness on his lower right. His cheek burnt like fire. That was no warning slap… it had something more inside it. He wanted to question it, to call him out on it. Give him one of those crude and painfully honest speeches like those he’d give to the guys at Homra from time to time when they were in the mood for bullshit, that usually earned him scowls for a week and a lot of talking behind his back, but that had more than once aborted stupid plans that could have gotten someone badly hurt. Saruhiko wondered what really refrained him from screaming at Fushimi, but maybe it was because typically Misaki preceded him before his anger could reach such a boiling point.

Clicking his tongue rather loudly, Fushimi had walked back to the lean-on rest he’d built earlier to curl there and work onto his laptop once again, the sound of his own digits rapidly tapping were the only source of sooth to him at the moment.

He returned his gaze to the screen briefly before stealing a glance at the boy once again, a faint knot of regret dwelling in the depth of his conscience for slapping his alter ego without any clues or hints; as if he’d guess that events led to rock-bottom ends with Yata.

Fushimi suddenly realized that his mere stolen glance had turned into a long stare, which irked him to let out a rather quick but small nasal huff, his gaze retreating back to the screen. It was then that he noticed an intruding presence, something foreign to what he was used to notice in the layout of his room.

On the table, the puzzle box had been left behind. He doubted it was an accident from the Captain. When he first came to propose puzzle, Fushimi suspected Munakata intended to make the boy experience the same kind of epiphany he had lived through that time years ago, when he himself had witnessed the Blue King masterfully complete a puzzle without any reference picture. But it seems he was wrong.

Had he left it here for them…? Just what was he planning now?

“Tch, captain..” He pushed his laptop gently off and uncoiled his legs to stand back up, rubbing the back of his head and walking over to lock the door before turning back to puzzle box. His eyes wandered back and forth from his laptop to the puzzle before he finally settled for the latter, picking it up and moving to sit in the center of the room with it, letting out a grumble and a huff.

Crossing legs once more, he let his head rest into the palm of his left hand, using the other to hunt down pieces and set them into the places he believed they belonged to in forming the initial frame.

He didn’t pay much attention to the image on the box, playing with the captain often got him the tactics of tracking shades and colors as main leads for the next piece. His fingers diligently scribbled through the box for pieces before gently locking the needed part in place with disinterest.

It was now Saruhiko’s turn to watch his older self sit before the puzzle and play with it like nothing was wrong. Well, at least he looked vaguely bothered, but still did it. Truly an obedient dog.

Granted, he knew it had always been his nature. Complain and comply. That was the sum up of Saruhiko Fushimi. Never agreeable, but hardly ever one to refuse when someone asked something of him. In the past this had allowed him to consider himself, at least by a 99% a good person. But to see it put at the service of this King he knew nothing but sketchy things about, got on his nerves.

But at least they were alone now. Was it night? The King had sounded like it was.

The red clansman thought he should find a way to get away as soon as this one dropped his guard. He couldn’t stay up forever to watch him either, no?

He sighed through his nose and finally moved his first steps into the room, feeling his knees pop as he moved. How long had he stood there actually? It felt like he had just woken from a petrified spell.

The first thing he did was walk across the room and reach the window, his fingers raised to rest on the plastic shutters and pull them down for him to see outside. It definitely looked like night had taken over.

His eyes soon unfocused on what was beyond the glass and locked on the reflection of the dark haired one sitting behind him. The way he kept his hair and how lazily he worked on the game before his eyes made the boy draw comparisons that made him sick in the stomach once more. It was best to look at this guy in the face. At least that would bring him reassurance that he wasn’t in fact in hell and talking to a ghost.

So, reluctantly and sullenly he left the window to reach the center of the room and sit across of the blue clansman. His eyes still wouldn’t cease wandering to this or that detail in the room, looking for potential signs of his belongings. For now, he saw none.

Sitting there in silence that got heavier by the minute, he had nothing to do but to watch slender hands pick pieces, turning them, placing them, one after the other. He didn’t try to join the game, keeping his hands between his crossed legs, but the sight alone became kind of mesmerizing after a bit.

Mesmerizing but not completely mind-numbing. His thoughts were calmer, but certainly still there, nagging. He wondered if it was the same for his other self. If it was, maybe trying to talk him into helping him was worth a shot. If it wasn’t, he doubted things would get worse than they already were for him.

“… You’ve left him behind.” He started with that accusation. He knew it was a shitty first step, but he wouldn’t lie. These were his feelings. Not something he’d happily talk about with anyone. But if there was one single damn person he thought he could do it with, it was the one in the mirror.

He lifted his eyes from the puzzle to search for the identical blue orbs across it. “Did you even try to get him to come with you?”

The moment the question left his mouth, he was already feeling doubt. Would Misaki drop Homra for him if he asked? Even without knowing the future, he didn’t think so… But he had hope. Hope to be just pessimistic. Hope his friend’s obsession with the clan was a temporary phase. That he’d see things his way eventually. He felt he would ask to be followed.

The other’s movements around the room didn’t succeed in robbing the ravenette’s loose attention, as unwanted as it was. The male merely continued to set the puzzle into picture with disinterest, the very tips of his half lidded eyes could make out the figure of the teen approaching.

Of course, the furthest spot to sit from him was across, he didn’t expect any less than his younger alternative, that is, until the other decided to chant nonsense and illogical conclusions, which brought the ravenette’s movements to halt, his expression transfixed with no changes, his eyes set onto the piece of puzzle he had in hand before resuming his task shortly after, completely brushing off the teen.

He couldn’t help it, if he does end up telling his younger self about it, he’d be way too cautious and wary for events to occur in their actual sequence and thoughts. He could only hope that the teen doesn’t continue to press on him constantly with this topic. No more conclusions, no more assumptions, no more digging through open wounds, no more unlocking memories he decided to push to the back of his head.

Before he knew it, the next piece of puzzle that rested between his thumb and index snapped rather loudly in half, the sheer force on the tips of his digits indicating the tension rising throughout his body, which snapped Fushimi back to the cold reality in the lit, quiet and slightly more crowded room he was in. The blue orbs found their way from the broken piece pinned between his fingers to the teen, his words clawed at the depth of his throat in desperation to be released to the question, which he once again wasn’t fond of, yet found himself capable of replying to, at least.

“Why? Did he ever listen to you?” A faint oral huff escaped his lips, setting the damaged piece aside to reach for another and continue the process of completion. “Weren’t you the one always behind him, tailing his steps? If not…” he trailed off to look at the box of the puzzle and reach for the wanted piece, his temper and rush of emotions rather kept at a short handed bay, but nevertheless in control. His movements remained ever so diligent and gentle, to the extent he himself didn’t realize he was mimicking the blue king’s hand gestures in puzzle building.

Once again, his hues aborted to the corners to steal a glance at the other, he pulled the next piece before scooting the box slightly inwards to the other in offering for participation. The picture was almost complete, it’d be time to ’head to bed’ once they’re done, not that he’d manage to easily fall asleep though, but it was better than to hold a meaningless conversation.

His last hope relied on Yata himself, if his younger alternative doesn’t end up meeting the Ginger, no unnecessary, yet fatal information will be hinted or leaked.

His surprise to see the piece snapped in half was expressed only by a slightly jolt and a blink from the boy. That seemed to interrupt whatever his older self was going to say. But what little had left his lips already hadn’t been untrue. His voice had basically read the thoughts in his own mind. The Yata he knew, the one whose eyes sparkled with fire whenever the Red King was mentioned or came into view, wouldn’t likely leave to go with him. Especially when it sounded like the main drive to join Scepter 4 had been the promise of a job. That stuff held no meaning to Misaki. Nor to him really..

He found himself wondering what his own motivations had been. Maybe there had been something more. He had mentioned the Blue King saving him from Jungle… what was their relationship like? Saruhiko didn’t feel the ravenette before him was charmed by this King like Yata was by the Red, so…?

His mind went back at the marred spot he had seen on his collarbone. Maybe it was less that he had been enticed by Scepter 4 and more that he had been pushed away from Homra? He himself had been considering himself on an edge for a while now.

But things were different now. The Red King was no more. And Misaki…

“… Don’t you get it?” He said, taking a piece from the box, but not placing it down with the others. Almost keeping it hostage and trying to make a point with it.

“It’s easier for you– for us. We’ve been alone most of our life. Misaki was never alone before. He had a family, and then you, and then Homra still. He’s too stupid to be alone and still be okay.”

His eyes narrowed harshly as he felt his own blood heat up both with anger and shame.

“Even at school, when he figured out his friends talked behind his back…. He was so desperate for company that he decided to settle down with someone like you.”

Someone like me. He could have said that. He thought that. But it hurt to be so aware of it. This made it just easy enough to spell it out.

As soon as the other finished, the Fushimi’s words found their way to his lips rather easily. “He was so desperate for company.” Quoting the other, he fished for more pieces to set down, almost done with the picture before him, a twist tugged its way onto the corners of his lips as he held one piece up between his thumb and middle finger, it being close enough to him to have his sight view the piece as a cover for the other’s place; no specific sick intentions, he just didn’t wish to see the other’s face when he reminded him of the rock hard reality he’d gone through, which the other is still yet to suffer.

“That was because he was rejected by everyone else, while you gradually and slowly allowed him to seize your personal zone.” Pausing once again, he moved the piece only slightly as if to peek at the teen’s expression. “He can’t handle himself alone, anyone at that point could’ve done the deed.”

Interrupting his own words, he proceeded to set the piece down into its proper place before glancing down at the very few remaining spaces. “You were there only to fill the gap. What happens once he encounters someone that influences him and mesmerizes him more than you do?” Although, his hint wasn’t solely directed to the Red King, but the entire clan with its clansmen were included as well.

With that, he reached for the remaining pieces and began setting them in place, his eyes narrowing down to the empty hole in the center of the image, where he believed the broken piece should have been put to rest. He could feel his own reflection into the nearly finished picture already; everyone under that clan united, all except for him, he was the outcast, the only one that didn’t manage to merge well, the only one that was discarded aside, then blamed when he set a step into the light.

He didn’t intend to hold such a reference, it by chance came to light;

He was the broken puzzle piece.

“You were nothing special since the beginning,” his tone to slightly lower, yet grow tense at the same time to his next remark, “just a temporary substitute to fill in the open space he had, which could have been done by anyone. He just happened to pick you.”

It seemed those thoughts he had were still just as vivid in the future, if not even reinforced by something more. Even though Saruhiko was perfectly aware of all that, hearing it was like having a dagger twisted into a wound he desperately tried to keep closed. Why did it feel like the man before him took delight into torturing himself with it instead?

“Chance or not, it did happen, didn’t it? That goes for your past as much as mine.” He muttered, returning the hands to the edge of the puzzle with a dark look. “If you know all this, then you should also know Misaki can’t possibly be doing fine on his own now. If you want to stay in your comfy hole and cry over yourself, then let me go.”

Realization flickered in his eyes for a brief second, and the dark brows furrowed slightly.

“You don’t remember any of this anyway, do you?” He was referring to what he himself was going through right now. His perspective. Talking to himself in the future. If the other actually remembered, he should’ve been able to anticipate his every word and move. He should even know how all this would end, even. It was obviously not the case.

“… So it means I’m going to forget it all, somehow.”

Fushimi knew he was blinded and delusional, but not to this extent of ignorance. Even he began getting annoyed by the other’s behaviors, wording and thoughts.

“Misaki this, Misaki that..” He mumbled faintly to himself, the ring and tone all too familiar to the time he had said so with the red king’s name instead. It wasn’t exactly wrong, the other had mentioned him staying into his comfy hole, away from the chasing past that seemed to disturb him and seize his personal space even in his own territory. “Tch.” The ravenette set all the pieces down into one place, quickly reaching across to rob the last piece from the teen with ease and swiftness, setting it down into its place.

“Had I known you were coming, I wouldn’t have bothered searching for you.” That sentence was solely used to discard any suspicions of false memories and predictions. Had he known, he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of chasing his alternative down, but would have rather located him at the first step taken into the current timeline.

Perhaps the only possible way for him to remember any of this, or rather, predict, is for his past self to go back to his original timeline, then everything the teen had gone through would be stored into his own memories as first hand experience?

Without the will to delve into theories, Fushimi stood up and glanced down at the complete image of Fuji mountain, his eyes quickly gathering their focus onto the boy as his face seemed to twist into a scowl once again. “Don’t speak as if you know what you’re dropping yourself into.”

Those last words were the only warning he granted the other before deciding to retreat back to the bed, padding over to the door to flick the lights off, the TV screen instantly flickering on to a random documentary channel, volume set on mute; he’d appreciate the very faint light it flickered in this dark dorm room.

“You should hit the pillow.” Was the last of what he had to say, his eyes narrowed at the teen, barely noticeable in the darkness of the room. He reached up for his glasses and removed them with ease, ruffling his hair slightly to let it fall back into its natural form, which closely resembled the teen’s.

Making his way up the ladder, the male lied onto his side, facing away from the faint light and setting his glasses right beside his head, knowing he wasn’t going to head off peacefully into dreamland just yet.

Continues to Chapter 12.

#V01 || K Project #K01 || Tch! [IC: Fushimi Saruhiko]

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ridiasfangirlings · 4 months ago

Note

munakata texting scepter 4/even mikoto "tread lightly.." "watch all angles" at random times to keep them alert

Captain no, stop making your men paranoid. I feel like he must have picked this up from somewhere, like he watches a police training video that talks about remaining alert at all times. Munakata considers this, as S4 are technically the police but aren’t his men often too laid back, he would hate for them to get jumped by a criminal because they weren’t on their guard. To this end he decides to send his men friendly reminder notes, so that they won’t forget their training and become lax. Imagine one day the squad are working and Doumyouji comes running in all worried, saying he thinks the Captain is warning him that someone’s trying to kill him. Kamo tells him to calm down and asks what makes him think that. Doumyouji shows his PDA, which has the message ‘stay alert… watch all angles’ on it. Kamo is just like ‘huh’ and Hidaka says maybe it’s nothing, Doumyouji’s probably overreacting. Doumyouji is practically in tears because what if he gets murdered, Hidaka starts to laugh but then he gets the message too. Suddenly the whole squad has it and they’re all on edge, like is the enemy watching us right now should we evacuate. Fushimi walks in looking annoyed because he had the same message but rather than expecting an enemy he’s complaining because Captain better not use this as an excuse to launch a sneak attack on him for stupid reasons, suddenly the squad has something even greater to fear than an enemy.

Meanwhile Munakata has gone out shopping and run into Mikoto and they bicker like usual. Afterwards Munakata decides that Mikoto is truly too laid back, as a King he should be ever vigilant. He decides to assist Mikoto in bettering himself and sends Mikoto a ‘stay alert’ text. Mikoto is immediately like ‘how did you get this number’ and then decides never mind and just blocks Munakata. Totsuka is very intrigued by this mysterious message though, King do you think this is some kind of declaration of war. Kusanagi is concerned by it, like he wouldn’t expect a careful guy like Munakata to be so openly threatening, it’s not like him at all, and he wonders if Homra should be concerned. He decides to reach out to Awashima, who assures him that everyone in the squad has received these texts, please tell your King to simply remain ever vigilant as a matter of course. Kusanagi is like ‘I…see’ while Mikoto says he figured as much, Munakata isn’t hostile he’s just an idiot (and Totsuka’s like I see, remaining vigilant huh, with this curious smile. A few hours later Yata comes running into the bar all concerned because Totsuka-san sent him a text to watch all angles and what’s happening are the angles going to attack).

#k project #Talking K #CAPTAIN NO #he's making everyone concerned #are they under attack or is this just Munakata Doing Munakata Things #Mikoto just keeps blocking Munakata's number #it's junk mail to him

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amisbro · 7 years ago

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The Road Trip

Fandoms: K Priject Rating: G Note: This fic is the return back to a fandom I hadn’t been back to in a good while and with the “7 Stories” Movies coming up what better way to go back but to get started with the trip back home LET’S GO TO SHIZUME CITY!

Shizume City It was a very quiet day in the city and by quiet JUNGLE/Cathedral weren’t causing nearly the chaos they should have been and the HOMRA bar was getting lively with customers but nowhere near where they could be and Izumo Kusanagi ,The Bartender of HOMRA, knew that well. He knew there was a spark that was missing and he silently hoped it would come back cos he knew himself that business ,while not down, wasn’t where he would have liked it. At Scepter 4 things were almost in that same vein While the strains were minding their business and not causing havoc the “Youngbloods” were trying to keep themselves occupied with their studies and the Captain and King in Reisi Munakata ,while messing around with his puzzle that he had sitting on his desk, was having a hard time focusing. Even messing with Fushimi (which could be a fun pastime if done right) wasn’t one of those things that held its appeal when he knew that there was something ELSE that was missing and he needed to see it come back into the city...he and everyone at Scepter 4 knew EXACTLY what they were missing! And THEN there was that gentleman that roamed the city Yukari Mishakuji The former swordsman of JUNGLE ,after turning on them a good while ago, was now employed at a very successful flower shop in the city and for the most part didn’t have to deal with a lot of problems with JUNGLE. Even after the events of years past now he was pretty much clear of their problems but there was a part of him that wishes he could get back to just erasing those people one by one by one. There was ANOTHER issue with him He missed HIM One common thread that Scepter 4 ,HOMRA and Yukari all had in common was their interactions with a young man that changed all of their lives and it would be a lie if any of them said they DIDN’T miss him because oh did they! The Youngbloods of Scepter 4 missed their mentor HOMRA missed their “secret weapon” on Fridays for the “Kids Day” they started holding when he was there And Yukari...well he missed his man and EVERYONE knew it! Heck there were times when he would go bug Kuroh at Isana’s place because he missed his man that bad! This of course annoyed Kuroh so bad that he just told him to leave him alone and “If Joshua loves you like we all know he’ll be back...give him time I hear he’s very busy with his other work as is” and Kuroh was right cos every time he turned on the TV Joshua was working with one of the idol groups he was affiliated with in Tokyo or he was working on his own concerts...but it didn’t mean he would never come back...right? This answer would come soon enough Tokyo in the QN Compound “So you see friends” Joshua started “We have an interesting schedule between now and around May. We got appearances for HEAVENS coming up and I know QN has at least one concert so there’s that...anything else I’m forgetting?” Joshua asked and Camus was the one to speak up on everyone’s behalf “Curtis-San...when is the last time you went home?” Camus asked and this caught Joshua off guard and had to try to figure out how to answer the question “I-I am home boss. I was just going over part of our schedule between now and May.” Joshua explained but Camus wasn’t going to give up on the question so he tried another way “Alright...when is the last time you were in the ‘City’? Surely you miss those people don’t you?” Camus asked and this time Joshua was really caught off guard but he didn’t get angry and just answered as honestly as he could “First off I am going to assume by ‘City’ you mean ‘Shizume’ correct boss?” Joshua asked and Camus nodded before he continued “Very well...I want to say...its been a while. Do I miss it a little? Yeah I do but I also am happy to be here with you guys and help you all out you know?” Joshua asked and everyone in the room (the members of QN and HEAVENS collectively) all nodded in agreement. Camus however knew what had to be done “You know its rare that I TELL you to go do something anymore. You are pretty much programmed into my routine that I don’t have to tell you anything. This time however Joshua I am GOING TO TELL YOU that I want you to take an extended vacation. We have Nanami as a backup so we aren’t going to skip a beat here but I have a strange feeling that there are people back in Shizume that want you to go home to see them. I also have a feeling one of them is a very talented swordsman that even I won’t mess with!” Camus explained and when Joshua heard this he looked at everyone in the room and decided to ask the question that needed to be asked “Is this how you all feel?” Joshua asked and when everyone nodded he knew what he had to do. “Very well...tomorrow I will go on a bit of a vacation into the City. Might help with some boredom issues cos I admit wholeheartedly I had dealt with those so I will go cure them and return in time for the concert in May. Is that a deal?” Joshua asked and everyone nodded but Camus wanted to make something clear so he had to step in. “I know you won’t miss that concert in May and we all look forward to it. Just don’t go neglecting your friends over there after that. We appreciate your loyalty here but you are also needed THERE!” Camus exclaimed with extra emphasis on “there” and Joshua knew what that meant. He was OFF TO THE CITY! The Next Day To say that Joshua had a rough night sleeping after packing was an understatement but it was one of the worst nights he had in a while because he was going back to see a lot of good people and those people kind of felt needed him but he could never outright say it cos he didn’t want his friends there to feel like crap either you know? As it was when he got up he went and got changed into something a little less formal...even if one of the places he was going to go visit WAS Scepter 4 he didn’t have to get into Uniform for today so he got on a t-shirt and some blue jeans and sneakers and after a breakfast that Kira prepared for him he was out the door to his car to head off to that famous bridge that he has crossed before and he was very happy to start the journey...even if it was a good 3 hours from the QN’s place! When Joshua walked out the door Eiji ran up to him to make sure he had his ID to get into the city and also to get into Scepter 4 when he stopped over. He knew what security check was like so he made sure he had everything and Joshua showed him just like always that he was prepared for the big trip. After that Eiji nodded and gave him a big hug before saying his goodbyes and Joshua got in the car and headed off Was the trip a quiet one? Nah you know Joshua had to have tunes going in the car all the way over and as he was taking the familiar route to the City that he traveled times before his first thought went to Scepter 4 and the boys he helped mentor ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The Youngbloods Joshua still remembers the day the boys created those special armbands for their group. At first Joshua thought it was a little silly but when Akiyama and Enomoto explained how important he was becoming as a teacher to them and they wanted to really become his students he couldn’t help but smile and take them on because of how important an impact he was becoming and he wanted to keep that bond with them. Even with his absence Domyouji told him in messages that they were keeping with their studies and they were looking forward to if he were to ever come back to the group...boy were they going to be in for a shock! ------------------------------------------------------------- HOMRA After Mikoto’s death and Anna taking over the role of “King” in the Red Clan things started changing and she came up with ideas along with Kusanagi about how to make a bar that ,to be fair was more of a clubhouse, more accessible for the public and they started to redo their image after that. It wasn’t until Joshua came in though that things really started changing for the better and the energetic gent started to help get a younger crowd to come in and he always enjoyed hanging out with the young ones. While he always gave Anna the credit for the idea she always looked at Joshua as one that really could carry the idea out. According to Anna it was JOSH that should have become the new King but Joshua always joked that “I don’t have that kind of power...you are far better than I could ever be” and she always left it alone after that. And THEN there is HIM --------------------------------------------------------- Yukari Mishakuji The incomparable swordsman formerly of JUNGLE. The man that ,Joshua credited for saving his life and changing his outlook on a lot of things. If it wasn’t for Yuari there was a chance that Joshua could have physically been fine but mentally been so screwed up that he couldn’t be repaired! If it wasn’t for encountering each other there are those that think that they wouldn’t be the men they were now and for that they are both grateful and have said as much to people when they asked. --------------------------------------------------------- As Joshua closed in on the bridge he pulled over to the curb and got out of the car to walk up to the entrance of the bridge and after running his hand up and down one of the sides for a few minutes a noticeable smile appeared on his face and as walked back to the car and got in to start the engine he couldn’t help but blast some good jams as he crossed the bridge and made off to his first stop HOMRA When Joshua took the familiar streets and saw familiar faces walking up and down the sidewalks he smiled and waved at each of them before pulling into the alleyway that he always would use for his parking lot! Best part...no one saw him “I FRIGGIN’ TOLD YOU I CAN HIT A KICKFLIP OFF THIS CURB AND I’LL DO IT DANG IT!” Yata yelled at Rikio who just faceplamed “Bruh every time you do that you end up crying for 20 minutes cos you skinned your knee and then Anna has to go get the first aid spray” Rikio explained and Yata just pouted “He’s right you know” When Yata heard this he assumed that it was Kusanagi that was making the statement but he was just diddling on his phone so he looked at the other members who just shrugged and then the voice made another comment “You know...if Saru heard you say the thing about hitting a kickflip he’d thing it was ALL you were gonna hit...but that’s just my opinion” “WHY YOU I SHOULD BASH YOUR SKULL IN WITH THIS BASEBALL BAT!” Yata Screamed before rushing at the person but when the person calmly deflected the bat from him he smirked and turned to Yata whom looked like he had seen a ghost when he realized who it was “CURTIS-SAN...WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Misaki asked puzzled and Joshua just smiled before responding “Oh...Let’s just say I was given a vacation from an employer in Tokyo and he ordered me to ‘Return Home’. Let’s just say I have a lot of those here so I figured this would be the first one I stop at cos I missed you guys and gals!” Joshua excitedly told Yata and Kusanagi was even more surprised when he heard this “Does this mean you will be coming back to help out on the ‘Kids Night’ that we do? We could really use the help again.” Izumo explained and Joshua happily nodded “Of course my friend and its well known also that YOU my friend have a birthday coming up...we need to properly celebrate that so we shall in due course I promise! Now listen I don’t like to cut these visits short but I need to go stop at two other places before heading home for the night. Good to see you all again and we are back in business I promise you that!” Joshua excitedly proclaimed and with that he took his leave but not before nearly getting dogpiled by everyone...until Izumo told them to chill cos if they hurt him they wouldn’t have his help for the upcoming weekend jobs. Next stop: Scepter 4 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This one was a bit more of a pain in the butt because he needed to make sure he had his Scepter 4 creds but that wasn’t a problem cos of Eiji reminding him to bring his other wallet and he did so he went up to the scanner and and they let his car into the parking lot which was ALWAYS a pain to get into...no seriously getting into the alley he used to park for HOMRA was always blasted easier! ANWAYS Joshua got into the parking lot and put his other wallet away and so that he didn’t get the creds he needed confused and when he walked into the building and saw the famous stairway he was to walk up if you ever wanted to know what a real GIDDY Joshua looked like imagine the Nintendo 64 kid on steroids 10x alright? As Joshua made his way up the stairs and hung that familiar right to the hallway where the HQ was he could hear the most comical argument ever “Come on Andy...we know that God’s S.T.A.R. is legitimately the more superior song of the 3 Triple S songs...the actual sales proved that!” Goto yelled and Andy had to cover his ears his friend was so loud “Okay that might be but there was something about Immortal Inferno that was just A MILLION TIMES BETTER and everyone with a sense of music knows thi!” Andy hollered back “We adding debate to the curriculum...I’m down” Andy and Ren snapped their heads in the direction of the voice they heard and the smile that came on their faces were INSTANT! THEIR SENPAI WAS HOME! “CURTIS-SENPAI!” They both exclaimed and hugged their teacher and Awashima happened to peak her head out of the Captain’s office to see what all the racket was about and when she saw even she was uncharacteristically happy! Like she could be happy but it was moments like seeing her “Son” return that made her quite happy “Its a pleasure to see you again Joshua. I trust that your trip was an enjoyable one?” Awashima asked and Joshua nodded before replying “It was...even if getting into the parking lot is still as convoluted as ever. I legit get into the HOMRA alleyway easier but I understand why also.” Joshua explained and Seri chuckled because she was remembering here issues with the parking in the area. “Oh its bad...I had to curse security one time cos of the issues with the scanner. Do you have time to see the Captain or will you be leaving us today?” Seri asked and Joshua had to think for a second before he made his response “Since I am back for the foreseeable future I will come back in a day or two. For now I have to go see one more party and then head to my home here. Tell Our esteemed King I’ll be back in a few days or so alright?” Joshua asked and Seri nodded before heading back into the office and Joshua did as he said and made sure to say his goodbyes to his boys before he made his final stop ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yukari’s Flower Shop This place was one that Joshua had stopped at many times before and every time he goes in its always a more exotic place. Alright there is ONE correction we need to make The Flower Shop isn’t REALLY Yukari’s but because he is the one that grows a lot of the different flowers they sell there the owner practically calls the shop his and it helps to keep his mind off of what he had missing in his life. The one person that could POSSIBLY make him whole! But he didn’t have much longer to wait As the car pulled in front of the shop near the outskirts of the city and Joshua got out all he had to do was stare straight to the back of the store and he saw the gent that saved his life from being mentally crippled! As Joshua walked in he made his way straight to the back and when the swordsman realized who it was the “Oh my God” look on his face appeared and then he ran up to Joshua and just gave him the biggest hug possible! To say that he missed him bad would be foolishly understated and the sound of muffled sobs that came from Yukari were all that Joshua needed to know how bad he was missed by his boyfriend. He knew he shouldn’t leave him for these long periods and but at the same time Yukari has been way more than understanding about his other job but he was glad to get to see him again and that was a fact! “C-Curtis-Chan? Y-You’re back...YOU’RE BACK?!” Yukari yelled and Joshua smiled and nodded before speaking “Yes my dear Yukari. I’m back and I don’t think I am leaving again for a good while. I’m here for you and to go work with my boys in Scepter 4 and such. I missed them and most importantly I definitely missed you and I would be lying if I said that I worried about you while I was gone. I’ve just been so busy with work that...well you know I’m sure.” Joshua explained and Yukari nodded as he continued to wipe the tears from his eyes but he was so happy he couldn’t stop crying. Joshua took him to the back to get him cleaned up and then after that the owner let Yukari off early because of “Special Circumstances”. Yeah this was definitely one and Mishakuji was definitely very happy to hear the news! As Joshua and Yukari walked out of the shop arm and arm together there was one thing Joshua wanted to do: He got out his PDA and issued the following command in it “Road Trip Status: COMPLETED!” For Joshua this “Road Trip” and the reunion with his friends and loved ones...was the greatest thing he ever pulled off and now he knew one thing Joshua was in fact...HOME!

#Amisbro #uta no prince sama #K Project #fan fiction #Scepter 4 #HOMRA #JoshuaxYukari #Camus #this was fucking long #BUT #VERY FUCKING REWARDING!

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jokertrap-ran · 5 months ago

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[Gakuen K] Blue Club MAP Choices ③ (Rooftop- Yatogami Kuroh) Translation

*Translator’s note : MC’s name shall remain as my normal (水嶋ラン) *Gakuen K Masterlist / Gakuen K Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler FREE : Translations under cut!

Ran: (I brought it here because I wanted to do some revision during lunch, but I'd never thought that I'd actually forget it here… In any case, I'm glad the wind didn't blow it away.)

Ran: …Hmm?

????: Ha…uu…

Ran: W-What was that? Am I imagining things…?

????: Ha…uu…

Ran: (There's definitely someone here!)

Ran: (W-What is it? A ghost…?)

Ran: …

Ran: (The mere thought of that is scaring me… I'd better hurry back!)

????: Ha…uu…

Ran: …

Ran: (I'm a little curious though…)

Ran: (Maybe I should go check it out and see if it's really a ghost? But if it really is a ghost…)

????: Ha…uu…

Ran: (…They do say that curiosity killed the cat.)

Ran: (Sounds like it's coming from over here? Ah!)

»» ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♔◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ««

Kuroh: Ha…uu…

Ran: (Yatogami-kun is wielding a sword… for practice, right?)

Ran: (Huh, so I was just hearing him practice. Somehow, I'm glad that it wasn't a ghost…)

Ran: (It wouldn't be nice to disturb him so I should leave.)

»» ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♔◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ««

Next Scene: ⊳ Captain’s Office (Munakata Reisi) ⊳ Blue Club Clubroom (Fushimi Saruhiko) ⊳ Hallway (Awashima Seri) ⊳ Path to Student Dorms (Akiyama Himori)

»» ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♔◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ««

Next Scene: Student Council Apprentice

#Gakuen K #Gakuen K: Wonderful School Days #K project #Otome #Translations #Yatogami Kuroh #Gakuen K SCEPTER 4 Route

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brynne-lagaao · 7 years ago

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(Fanfic) Set in Stone - Chapter Seven

Title: Set in Stone

Pairing: Sarumi

Chapter: 7/18

Rating: M

Mirrors: AO3 | Website

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

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

The sound of a downpour clattering outside of Yata’s bedroom window greeted him as he drifted awake. It was muggy inside, but not uncomfortably so, and he couldn't immediately identify where the vague sense of apprehension came from as he groggily turned his head to blink at the view from his bed. He could see a corner of the sky, grey and cloudy.

No sun.

Shit. All at once, the reality of his situation struck him and he sat up, staring at the overcast view through the window with dismay.

No sun meant no sun charging. Which meant...

Yata shot a wary look at his bedroom door. He usually didn't shut it – the airflow in the apartment already wasn't great – but he had that unwelcome visitor to think about now. Is he up yet? Somehow, it was hard to think of Fushimi actually sleeping, but he had said that he did it so there was a possibility he might not be awake.

Honestly, that sounded better than having to deal with him right away. Yata let out a huff of breath, rubbed a hand across his face, and aimed another dismayed look at his window. Of all the fucking times... Of course it would rain. Why wouldn't this situation just keep turning into more of a pain in the ass?

Now what?

They'd have to wait for the weather to clear up; there was kinda no getting around that. And considering it was almost June, there was no telling when that would be. It could be cloudy and raining for weeks.

The fact of that – it being the rainy season – hadn't factored into his plans at all until now.

“Goddamnit,” Yata muttered under his breath, thoroughly put out. He scowled at the window for another second, then let out a sharp sigh and turned to reach under his pillow for the moonstone.

That was something they’d agreed on last night – the stones should be on them all the time so there was more chance of them holding the charge they’d already gained. Underneath their pillow was the best way to handle that while they were sleeping. And it seemed like it had worked so far – the sense of the sun’s energy was still there beneath the smooth surface as he closed his fingers around it, not seeming to have lost anything from the previous day.

Hopefully Fushimi had stuck to it as well.

Why wouldn’t he? He wants to get this shit over with as much as I do. Yata slid his legs over the side of the mattress, reaching into his drawers for a clean pair of shorts and a shirt and dressing himself quickly. He was definitely awake now, and there was no point avoiding whatever was waiting for him on the other side of the door. After depositing the stone and his pouch of invisibility powder in the pockets, he scowled at the handle for a brief second, and then let out another fierce huff of breath and reached out to open it.

Fushimi was already sitting at the table with his laptop, fully dressed; the futon Yata had set up for him when they'd come back around midnight was shoved haphazardly to the side with the bedding still rumpled. “Finally,” he muttered when their eyes met. “I thought you were going to sleep all morning.” The frown on his face was openly displeased. “You really should restock your coffee.”

“Yeah, good morning to you too.” Yata frowned right back. I don't need this shit first thing in the morning, seriously. He glanced at the clock above the stove. “Dunno what the hell you're so impatient about – it's only nine. Anyway, why don't you just illusion up some coffee if you want it that bad?”

“It won’t make a difference. I can fool my sense of taste, but it doesn't make me more alert.” Fushimi clicked his tongue. “It’s annoying what inconsistencies you run into dealing with perception. Coffee is one of those sticking points when it comes to consumables.”

Yata furrowed his eyebrows, making his way across the room to the kitchen. “What, so you guys have no food but you still have like coffee shops and stuff?”

“Something like that.”

There wasn't much he could say to that – demonic daily life made no sense, seriously – so he just snorted, reaching out to pull open the fridge door and studying the contents critically. It was reasonably well-stocked – his specialty was kitchen magic, after all – but the question was what to make.

Starting the day with lots of protein was a good idea, but also... Yata tossed a baleful look out the window. Could use some luck, too.

Well, he had stuff for that.

Much like the previous night, Fushimi didn’t speak to him at all while he was cooking, but did glance up when Yata came to the table and set his bowl of apple-cinnamon rice pudding down. “Do you use cinnamon in everything you make?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Anything that increased his chances of success in life was good. Besides, things had started looking up for him in general after he’d started practicing in the kitchen and using that as his main focal point. Yata pulled out his chair unceremoniously and dropped into it, shooting a flat stare across the table. “Anyway, what do you care?”

Fushimi clicked his tongue, turning his eyes back down to his laptop with a frown. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, thought so.” Yata snorted, turning back to his meal.

They left right away after he finished eating – showers had been a ‘last night before bed’ thing – and with only minimal grumbling about ‘impatience’. Munakata didn’t exactly have business hours, but the sooner Yata got there, the more jobs he could get done and the more money he made. They could worry about the whole business with the stones when it wasn’t raining.

Hopefully it doesn’t go all week or something. He wasn’t feeling optimistic about it.

Speaking of which… Yata grabbed his umbrella from the entranceway on the way out, remembering only as he did that there was just one. He hesitated just outside the door where the awning kept the downpour from hitting them, shooting Fushimi a dubious glance. “You gonna be okay in this or – ?”

“It’s fine.” Fushimi brought up his hand as he stepped through the door, materializing a second umbrella without even changing expression.

Yata frowned, skeptical. “If that thing’s an illusion, how’s it gonna keep you dry?”

Fushimi returned his stare blandly. “How well do you understand physics?”

Yata huffed a brief laugh, turning to lock his door. “That some kinda trick question?”

“Right. Forget I asked.” Fushimi’s voice was dry. “In any case, you can think of it as a question of power. Lower ranking demons wouldn't be able to take it to that level.”

“Okay, sure.” He could understand that much; the more power you had, the more you could do. Yata turned, opening his umbrella and moving toward the stairway. “Let's go.”

As they stepped out into the rain, Fushimi asked, “How long do you think it'll be before this clears up?”

Yata scowled at the reminder, narrowing his eyes at the soaked sidewalk in front of them. “It's the rainy season, so who knows. A day? A week? Could be more, even.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue. “That's annoying,” he muttered.

“You're telling me.” This sucked. The more it rained, the longer he had to deal with this bullshit. There wasn't a damn thing he could do about it either, which pissed him off even more.

What a pain in the ass.

It was still warm out despite the rain, and the air was muggy. With the last few days being pretty clear, Yata had almost forgotten how unpleasant the weather usually was around this time of the year. He was starting to regret his decision to go home and sleep instead of hunting down more charging points like Fushimi had suggested – not that he’d admit it.

Whatever. We found one, and it’s not like we could just charge these things up in one night anyway. Still, it was frustrating not to be able to act now.

“You do plan to stop for coffee, right?” Fushimi muttered, sounding out of sorts. When Yata glanced at him, he was frowning, as if his surroundings had somehow offended him. “Today is already going to be enough of a pain as it is.”

“Yeah, yeah – I got it.” He could use one himself, honestly. “The place I get the beans from is closed on Mondays, though – we’ll just get something cheap at the station and grab the good shit tomorrow.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue. “I guess it’ll have to do.”

Yata shot him a disgruntled look. “Hey, don’t complain – I’m the one who has to pay for this shit, remember. So – ”

“No need,” Fushimi cut him off, bringing up his free hand almost lazily. A card manifested between his fingers. “Don’t assume I’ll freeload off of you. I can cover my own expenses.”

Yata furrowed his brows. That looked like an ordinary credit card, but… “How do you pay with that thing? Does it actually connect to a real account?” It occurred to him as he said it that Fushimi could’ve duplicated any random card, and he couldn’t help starting, a little surge of alarm rushing through him. “Wait – don’t tell me you – ”

“It’s the Captain’s work account.” Fushimi raised an eyebrow at him. “What were you expecting? That I’d just commit fraud casually? We do have ways to get along in your world without resorting to that kind of thing, you know.”

That was a relief, at least – and a double relief that he wouldn’t have to pay for the coffee. Yata let out his breath in a huff. “So it’s just my place you’re freeloading off of, huh?”

Fushimi clicked his tongue again. “Not by choice.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He brushed that off. “You’re still gonna mooch my coffee, though.”

“Are you still hung up on that?” Fushimi clicked his tongue a third time. “I’ll pay for it if you’re that bothered.”

“I am that bothered, okay?” Yata reached out to jab him in the arm lightly, frowning stubbornly when Fushimi glared at him. “You don’t just take people’s shit without asking! Anyway, it’s not like you can pay for it.” He let out an irritated ‘ch’, reaching up to scratch his head with agitation. “I got a full jar of dream herb still, but with both of us drinking coffee every day, I’ll have to pay for it twice as often. And I didn’t even do a harvest this week or anything…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Fushimi wouldn’t know about his system, after all – most people would assume you just pay for coffee beans. “It’s kinda… The café that has those beans is a coven’s headquarters. They don’t usually sell ’em, because they’re – y’know – spelled. For enhanced effect. It’s not kitchen magic, the way I do it, but… hard to explain.” Yata shrugged. “You’ll see. Anyway, I trade ’em for stuff I harvest.”

Both of Fushimi’s eyebrows went up. “Harvest…?” He tilted his head quizzically. “If your ‘dream herb’ is the one I’m thinking of, it shouldn’t grow in this climate.”

“Heh.” Yata couldn’t help but grin at that, pride softening his earlier irritation. “I’ll show you. Just wait.”

The irritated way that Fushimi’s frown deepened as he turned his head was hugely satisfying.

As promised, they got coffee to go from a stand at the train station, and continued on to Munakata’s building with their hands full of umbrellas and to-go cups. The rain started to ease off just a bit as they came off the train in the business district, but the sky was still as grey and cloudy as ever, showing no signs of letting up or allowing even a trace of the sun through.

“What unfortunate weather,” Munakata greeted them when they arrived at his office. He took Yata’s scowl with his customary oblique smile. “However, I see that you were able to begin the charging process already.” He bridged his hands in front of himself again. “As expected of such an exceptional pair.”

Yata snorted derisively. “Yeah, right, ‘pair’.” He fixed his employer with a flat glare. “You got stuff for me today, right? Let’s hear it.”

“Indeed.” As usual, Munakata seemed amused by his demanding tone. “Without delay, then…” He reached beneath his desk and brought forward a single sheet of paper, sliding it across the desk so that Yata could easily retrieve it. There was a list of five locations and contacts, along with the items he was going to be either retrieving or delivering.

Five, huh? He could get that done in a day, assuming they weren’t such huge-ass items that he had to keep coming back to get them or drop them off. Most of the shit seemed to be small, rare spell components. Good enough.

“The first four are deliveries,” Munakata pointed out, needlessly – the list was pretty clear, after all, but he really seemed to love the sound of his own voice. “The last is a retrieval. All payments have been cleared, so there is no need to resort to any form of ‘extreme’ measure.”

Like Yata hadn’t done it in the past – and wouldn’t happily do it again if needed. Sometimes cracking some stubborn skulls was the best stress-relief from this boring ass delivery job that he got. Still, it meant today was gonna be easy, at least. “Got it.”

“Splendid.” Munakata leaned back in his seat. “Do keep that thought in mind during your retrieval as well.”

“Huh?” Yata checked the list again, scanning the names and places he’d breezed over before in favor of the items. As his eyes hit the last line, he felt his lip curl instinctively, a sharp twinge of annoyance stabbing through him. You gotta be fucking kidding me…

Fushimi had been observing the exchange silently, but he took that moment of aggrieved silence to interject. “What’s the problem with the retrieval?”

Yata scowled, avoiding his gaze in favor of glaring at Munakata. “Nothing,” he gritted out, balling up the paper and stuffing it savagely into his pocket. “You got the delivery items ready or what?”

Munakata’s answering smile was beatific. “Certainly.” He raised his voice only slightly. “Awashima-kun, if you would be so kind.”

“Yes, sir.” The door opened behind them even as the cool feminine voice answered, and a familiar blonde woman stepped inside, straight-backed and clad in a midnight blue pantsuit. She was carrying a rucksack.

Yata half turned towards her. He was more or less used to Awashima Seri by now, but she’d made him uncomfortable during his first few weeks on the job and he wasn’t totally at ease around her. It probably couldn’t be helped, though. She was as strict as she was efficient, and she hadn’t been inclined to be patient with his initial nervousness.

As usual, she handed him the bag without ceremony or even a comment, but her flat, no-nonsense gaze spoke volumes.

C’mon, I’ve been doing this shit for months now. He frowned back at her, feeling pugnacious. I’m not gonna break anything.

Rather than retreating directly to the door after bowing to Munakata, she turned her gaze on Fushimi instead. Astonishingly, her cool expression softened just enough to allow a small, rare smile. “Fushimi.”

“Lieutenant,” he acknowledged her, without batting an eye.

She nodded in response, as if this was exactly what she’d expected, and moved toward the door, opening it and stepping back so that they could pass.

“I believe that covers the particulars,” Munakata noted. “I shall be awaiting your report, Yata-kun.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shouldering the bag, Yata headed for the door. “Later.”

There was still that small but odd hint of warmth in Awashima’s expression as they moved to pass her; when she raised her head, her gaze was directed at Fushimi. “Good work,” she murmured.

Fushimi clicked his tongue. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Since when did I offer praise lightly?” There was an edge of fondness in her crisp tone that Yata had never heard before. It was weird. “Perhaps I should have said ‘good luck’ instead?”

“I’ll need it.” Fushimi snorted, and her answering hum of amusement was the last thing they heard before the door closed behind them.

Huh. So people do get along with him sometimes. Yata shot a sidelong glance at Fushimi, taking in the now-familiar frowning profile and hunched shoulders. He didn’t really get what it was about this guy that could bring out a friendly side to Awashima, but it had happened.

Was there something he was missing, or what?

“So?” Fushimi cut into his pondering as they entered the elevator. “How far do we have to go?”

Yata reached back into his pocket for the list, letting Fushimi push the button to send them back up. There were a couple of out-of-the-way places on the list, but he wasn’t gonna have to fly, at least – in this weather, it would’ve sucked. “Not too far. We can just take the train.”

The name and location for the retrieval at the end seemed to pop out at him, reminding him of their existence now that he was aware of them. Yata let out a soft ‘ch’ under his breath, irritated all over again. Why that guy? Why today? This sucks…

The elevator kicked on, interrupting that thought, and he looked up to find Fushimi fixing him with a narrow look as they sped upwards. “What’s the problem with that retrieval?”

There was no point in hiding it; he’d find out soon enough anyway. Yata scowled, stuffing the paper back into his pocket. “That coven’s got bad blood with Homra.” The elevator came to its abrupt halt, jarring his teeth unpleasantly. “They hate me. I hate them. Going there is a pain in the ass.” The doors chimed and slid open, and he moved on quickly. “That’s it.”

“Ah.” Fushimi’s voice had taken on that drawl again. “So you do have enemies. How… unsurprising.”

Yata tossed a sharp grin over his shoulder, unbothered by the jab. “If you’re not making enemies, you’re not living right.”

Fushimi blinked at him, clearly not expecting that response, and then let out a soft huff that was almost a laugh. He looked ruefully amused. “What kind of philosophy is that?”

“S’true.” Somehow that expression was oddly satisfying – Yata felt a tiny rush of gratification and wasn’t sure why. “I bet you got enemies too, right?”

“Of course I do,” Fushimi responded, flat and even. The tone almost seemed mild when it came with that tiny upward quirk of his lips. “I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I worried about pissing off random low-lifes.”

That sentiment resonated – Yata paused at the door leading out of the building, processing that unusual feeling of comradery as he met Fushimi’s gaze. After so much adversary between them, it was strange to have a moment like this where they just somehow… clicked.

He couldn’t be totally sure if Fushimi felt it too, but somehow it felt like something had shifted between them – just a bit.

Fushimi raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Huh? Nothing.” Yata blinked rapidly in instinctive response, as if shaking off a stupor. He turned back to the door, allowing himself a small grin, bemused but satisfied by the exchange. “S’all good.”

#k #sarumi #yata misaki #fushimi saruhiko #fanfic #fanfic:mine

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hibisha · 8 years ago

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Wishes I Made Are Too Vicious To Tell

Chapters: 4/5

Fandom: K (Anime)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Relationships: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Characters: Fushimi Saruhiko, Yata Misaki

Additional Tags: Strain AU, Romance, a bit of humor, Angst, Character Death

Summary:

Misaki remembers what both forgot.

Mirrors:

Fanfiction

AO3

Chapter 04 - Desperate

Misaki stared at his friend with wide eyes and a slackened jaw only for Kamamoto to nod in the direction of a nearby cafe.

"Let's go and sit there." he suggested, walking towards it. Misaki only nodded and followed silently behind him, his mind a whirlpool of jumbled thoughts and unasked questions. Saruhiko...odd as it seemed, had sacrificed himself for Kamamoto. Putting aside the fact that this definitely topped the ‘What the fuck’ charts of this reality, Misaki was confounded when it had happened. And how. When he was back to his rightful timeline, Misaki wasn't going to lose an opportunity like this to tease the younger into oblivion.

Not when, his mind traitorously whispered, If. If you go back.

His heart squeezed painfully but he pushed the feeling back, trying to focus on the matter at hand.

When they were both settled, a waiter came to take their order and since it would look really rude, they each ordered a glass of juice. A quick glance around showed that the café didn’t have much of a clientele, just an odds customer here and there. Misaki fidgeted in his seat and faced Kamamoto squarely only to have him sigh and slouch into his seat.

"Mi-Yata-san," a wave of relief and familiarity washed over him as he stared back at the taller man in front of him, listening intently "Do you remember the time...back in elementary school, when I was in the second grade - do you remember when we went all the way over to that rich ass neighborhood?" Misaki frowned, trying to comb through his jumbled mess of memories, sorting them out until his eyes brightened.

That day.

"Oh yeah!" he called out excitedly, "It's that day with the bus incident right?" Kamamoto gave him a small wry smile before his eyes focused on the glass of juice that had been set in front of him, all traces of that smile wiped from his face.

"Yeah," he said, slouching even lower, "It's the day you told me to go get a bus ride home because you were just gonna call your mom so she could pick you up along with your bike."

What?

Misaki stared at Kamamoto, puzzled.

"No, that's not what happened." he said slowly, trying to not sound accusing, "I did get onto that bus with you remember?" It was Kamamoto's turn to look baffled.

"No, you didn't." the other insisted, eyes narrowing slightly as he frowned, "I remember because-" the rest of his words trailed off as his eyes became a bit unfocused and his mouth curved downwards. "I will always remember..." Kamamoto said, whispering now - it's a good thing Misaki inherited his hearing powers from his mother. Misaki waited but the older boy said nothing more, his eyes staring at nothing at all.

Misaki was confused.

So he hadn't ever gotten on that bus with Kamamoto? Why? It wasn't anything special - nothing to do with this messed up world.

"The reason I joined HOMRA was so I could be as strong as Yata-san back then. You were so cool standing up to that gunman."

Right. So that's why Kamamoto wasn't a part of HOMRA. And Misaki had always thought Kamamoto was lying just to make him happy. Of course, that didn't explain why Kamamoto had brought up the incident in the first place.

And why hadn't Misaki been on the bus? He should have been. His mother was right; he had been missing something. Something in his gut told him that he was close to the answer he was looking for - he just needed to probe in the right direction.

"Oh yeah, I forgot..." he lied, rubbing the back of his head, laughing nervously, eyes trained on the silent hunched figure before him, "So what happened then?" Kamamoto's gaze snapped back at his face and Misaki had to make a conscious effort not to reel back in shock.

Kamamoto's eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"I never told you...because I thought you'd feel guilty or something because of your stupid hero-complex," Kamamoto said, hands gripping the glass so tightly, Misaki feared it would break, "But that bus - that bus was hijacked."

No shit. Misaki thought, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. Externally, he widened his hazel orbs, pretending to be shocked.

"What, no way!" And if he sounded anything less than surprised than he was sort of glad Kamamoto was in no state to notice. The older man nodded.

"Yeah, sorry I never told you." Misaki waved his hand impatiently.

"Irrelevant. Get back to what happened next." He urged, wanting to know what happened.

"Yeah, so when I got onto the bus, this guy, he randomly grabbed me and this one silent brooding kid from the back. You know, to hold us hostage." Kamamoto's hands were shaking very badly now, his entire body sitting stiff, "He took us to the b-back of the bus."

In his mind, Misaki could still see that day clearly. The way that bastard had grabbed Kamamoto, when he had hauled him at the back, with a gun pressed against his temple. He remembered feeling cold and scared and angry at his helplessness.

"And then-then the other kid pulled out some fireworks from his bag and handed them to me."

That brave smart kid. Misaki didn't remember his face all that well, just that he had dark hair and wore spectacles.

"He barely managed to pass me the lighter when the gunman caught us."

Misaki remembered forgetting his fear and being consumed in a state of desperateness when he saw the man pick up the kid by his collar, pointing the gun at him. At that moment, nothing had mattered except getting him away from danger.

"And then-" Kamamoto's voice cracked, before he took a giant gulp of air, trying to steady himself. A single tear ran down his face. "Then he told me to light them up and throw them at the bastard."

And Kamamoto never got to do it. Because at that moment, Misaki had come barreling in, tackling the bad guy, freeing that kid so he could throw the fireworks himself.

Misaki had come...

But Misaki hadn't been on the bus.

Something began to coil up inside the redhead, dark and cold.

Misaki hadn't been on the bus.

He missed what Kamamoto said next, not entirely sure why his body was trembling.

Misaki hadn't saved that boy.

Black hair.

Spectacles.

Remember Misaki....

Black hair that swept across messily against his forehead.

Remember...

Blue eyes and a small hesitant smile.

Misaki...

"Saruhiko." the words sounded foreign in his mouth. Kamamoto was saying something but Misaki didn't care - didn't care because he remembered.

Misaki must be missing something important.

Tears filled his eyes and Misaki had to blink fervently to keep them from falling down his cheeks. No, he couldn't cry in front of Kamamoto. He had to stay strong. He had to.

"And that's how I found out his name was Fushimi Saruhiko." Kamamoto finished, looking pale and distraught, "I just wish- I just wish I had been strong enough to do something you know." He gulped and shot Misaki and teary grin, "I bet if Misaki had been there, he'd have been so cool and would have been able to save everyone. Even Saruhiko. And then we would have all been friends." No. This time, it was Misaki's body that shook with emotions. They wouldn't have been. Because they would both walk away, not knowing, not remembering.

A bitter taste had settled in his mouth.

He needed to get away.

"I need to go." he said thickly, getting to his feet, swaying a bit. Ignoring Kamamoto’s worried calls, he swiftly made his way out of the café, gritting his teeth tightly, hoping he wouldn’t cry. He didn’t even have a destination in mind but kept walking, not knowing how to handle the load of information that had been dumped on him.

Saruhiko was dead.

He was dead because Misaki hadn’t been there to save him.

He was dead because Misaki made a stupid wish.

Coming to halt, he stared at the building in front of him.

Broken, run down.

Definitely not where two middle schoolers should have been squatting. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he fiddled with the handle a bit and entered the tiny place he had rented with Saruhiko all those years ago. Crossing the threshold, he looked around, suddenly lost in the thought that this place had never seen any of his and Saruhiko’s memories. These walls had never been covered in posters. The loft above had never been occupied by a sulky teen who shared his dreams of taking down the world. Tears pooled in his eyes once more as he collapsed to his knees, just staring at the place which held everything and nothing at the same time.

Sorry – I am so sorry.

Saruhiko – despite constantly believing that they didn’t exit – had died a hero. He had done what he himself had refused to believe in and helped someone while being genuinely concerned for someone else’s well-being.

The irony of it wanted to make Misaki laugh but the tears wouldn’t stop and the pain wouldn’t go away. Dragging himself to and upright position against the wall, he stared ahead blankly.

So what now.

He had the answers. Now what was he supposed to do with them?

Where are you Saruhiko, you bastard! I need your help!

Except, he knew exactly where Saruhiko was.

Buried six feet under the ground.

You should visit him.

He didn’t know who whispered that in his ear – or who’s voice it was he heard. But it made him slowly get to his feet and make his way to the outside world again. Casting one last look at his old – their old home, he closed the door firmly behind him.

For the second time in his life, their small world held inside shattered into a million pieces behind that closed door.

“I need to know where he’s buried.”

Standing before the Blue King, awkwardly shifting from one foot to another, he stared resolutely at the bespectacled man, who was watching him with unblinking eyes. Munakata Reisi tilted his head.

“You wish for me to disclose an information you shouldn’t be privy to?” Misaki gulped. He had known this was coming. For one he should have considered himself very lucky that the blue king had even granted him an audience – what was he, if not the HOMRA vanguard or Saruhiko’s best friend.

You are worth so much more Misaki.

And he believed that. He had a high school diploma. He had a stable job, was working to save up for a college. His family loved him, he had friends.

Mikoto san and Totsuka san were alive.

But –

“You…you probably have heard the story from Kusanagi san.” Misaki said, looking at the other man in the eyes, not balking under the scrutinizing gaze. Munakata nodded.

“I have indeed been in contact with the HOMRA bar tender. Though it confuses me why your story seems to have affected the outcome of a certain Red King.” Misaki looked away.

“I have a theory about that…”

“Oya?” Misaki blinked at the realization that the Blue King looked intrigued. “Do share.”

“Well, Totsuka san died because Kusanagi san wasn’t there to protect him. And that’s really because Kusanagi san believed no one would harm him because HOMRA had grown so much. But-“ he gulped, continuing on, trying to not show how his hands were shaking. “But with Kamamoto – without some of the founding members – without shit even me or Saruhiko, Kusanagi san would have never let down his defenses like that. He’d be on the constant look out. That’s – that’s what I believe.” Violet eyes studied him for a long while before sharply turning to look at the puzzle that was spread out before him.

“That is quite the deduction Yata Misaki kun.” He said finally, after what seemed like the longest pause recorded inhuman history. “Personally I believe that there might be some involvement from the Green clan as well, but we may never know.” Misaki nodded, not sure where the conversation was going. Mentally deciding to go to Fushimi’s old house and search for clues, he began to say good bye to the Blue King.

“Farewell Yata Misaki kun. And it might interest you to know, I cannot give out a private detail of someone else’s life.” Misaki nodded once more as the other continued on. “One of my subordinates almost died when I became the Blue King. I always thought that if he had, I would have buried him in the cemetery near the south side of the city.”

“What are you-“ All the pieces fell into place as he bowed low before rushing out of the doors, almost running into the blonde woman coming inside, startling her greatly.

“I won’t forget this you shitty four eyed bastard!”

“Fufufu~ Awashima kun, I think I like that boy.”

“Captain, please don’t say such absurd things.”

Fushimi, Saruhiko.

Misaki blinked at the empty grave stone. No words of how he was a loved son. Nothing. The grave was unkempt and uncared for. The area around it was overgrown with weeds and it had been hard for him to locate the grave in the first place. Moments before giving up and angrily cursing the blue king in his head, Misaki had nearly walked off but a small hint of gray had caught his eye and he had followed it to the most miserable excuse for a grave ever.

If not for a single dead rose on it, Misaki would have assumed no one had visited for over a decade.

Saruhiko…

Rage Misaki hadn’t felt in ages against his best friend’s parents surfaced once more and he clenched his teeth together, tears once more blinding his vision, falling like rain over his cheeks.

Saruhiko…

Those bastards.

How dare they.

How dare they leave the greatest person on this planet leave as if he wasn’t loved.

Goddamit, Saru was loved!

Maybe not by his parents. But Saruhiko had proved a very long time ago he did not need the people who created him – he was quite capable of surviving – well not on his own, but without the, at the very least. And he had so many other people in his life now.

He had his clan and King! And Anna and Kusanagi san! And him!

Saruhiko always, always had him.

“I love you Saruhiko.”

The words slipped out of his lips with such ease that he started. Love. He didn’t really love Saruhiko did he? A small feeling began to grow in his chest as he stared at the grave stone in front of him, a heavy blush staining his cheeks. Before he could even try to talk himself out of it, the realization hit him with a force of a thousand ton of bricks. Oh God – this was just –

Tell the truth.

Is this what the strain was talking about? Was he supposed to confess? Getting redder and redder at the thought, he coughed. Here goes nothing…

“Saruhiko!” he said out loud, facing the gravestone, “I love you!”

“Who on earth are you?” Whirling around, his eyes widened at the figure standing there, eyebrow raised at him.

“Y-y-you!”

Aya Oogai frowned at him, holding up a bouquet of roses.

#fic #K anime #sarumi fest 2017 #I finally updated this piece of trash #I'm in shock myself

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its-love-u-asshole · 8 years ago

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Shaking in My Skull [Final]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Rating: T

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

Note: Wow, I can't even believe this is the last chapter. I started this fic 8 months ago, started planning even before that, and this fic means so much to me I just can't believe. The first scene of this chapter is one of the three scenes which started the whole fic, so it's extra unreal lol. Thanks to everyone here reading, enjoy! Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for beta-ing this story from the beginning, and letting me brainstorm ideas and complain about it with her lol!

Also, because some people asked about the backgrounds of Mikoto and Munakata as well as the other deities, I decided to make a little backstories post for them, which you can find the link to below! ^^

Ao3 Version

8tracks

Backstories Post

"Fushimi? Fushimi!"

Saruhiko's eyes snapped open, his breath catching as the smell of city exhaust and fast food assaulted his nostrils. His senses felt overstimulated, the blurs of images and color, coupled with the warm climate making him sweat was enough to leave him not moving and speechless. Where...

But he didn't have to ask, not when his heart was constricting furiously in his chest at the sound of a very familiar voice, his mind reeling from the city bustle which he'd once been so accustomed to. There were cars stuck in traffic on his left hand side, the occasional horn and screech of tires jolting him further out of his stupor.

Saruhiko had no explanation for any of it. It wasn't a dream. It felt too genuine, but maybe it was a hallucination from his trial worn mind, maybe it was another trial entirely, his memories turned against him. It would be cruel sure, but not unexpected, he'd faced worse as a matter of fact. So of course, this was another attempt to remind him of the ever present distance between himself and his life. It had to be.

And yet...

He choked on his own emotions as they blended into his logic. Part of him had to know, had to be able to tell. Each reasoning felt cheap and poor, and he wanted to cry, as unnecessary as it sounded. The hope residing inside him was bubbling up fiercely as he breathed in, his body catching up along with him despite his attempts at denying.

Despite it, Saruhiko felt light, his muscles relaxing in a way that was nearly unfamiliar to him. After so much effort and pain, how could he cope with feeling so brand new all of a sudden?

His hands twitched, and he glanced at them in awe; the skin was uncut and clean, from what he could tell at least, which wasn't much due to his strangely hazy vision. There were no notable scars or detectable shaking, but there was a bow tied neatly around one palm. His pulse raced as he felt the fleece, as if not believing it was there. But it was a fact, wrapped securely over nonexistent wounds. His heart wanted to explode, but the lack of clarity still had him slightly anxious. It reminded him of the hazy image of hell's gate disappearing, alluding him, and he thought maybe this was all a fabrication after all.

It would be the last time he considered such a thing.

Saruhiko could make out his surroundings, but they were blurred, the edges of the cars and the sidewalk too soft, along with the outline of the person in front of him. A person, he told himself, because judging from the sudden scratchiness in his throat as realization closed in, he couldn't handle hoping for the best. But he knew that voice, knew those blonde curls, hazy or not.

But it couldn't be, this couldn't be real...

The burn in his eyes increased.

I failed right? So why...

He recalled the feeling of something slick against his bloody hand, and his breath hitched.

The breeze hit his skin lightly, and he felt something jostle atop his head, and any remaining doubts froze in his mind, permanently destroyed by one voice ringing in his head, for the very last time.

"Well done, Fushimi-kun."

It was there and gone in an instant, but Saruhiko would never let himself forget it.

"Fushimi? Are you even listening to me?" The woman in front of him asked again, and Saruhiko's walls crumbled down. Not waiting a second longer, he slowly reached up, pulling his glasses down to cover his eyes, and watched the world bloom into clarity.

Seri looked annoyed with him, that was for sure, going by her slight pout and narrowed eyes, which did nothing to take away from her overall intimidation. She was as she should've been, rested, well dressed, not a tear or flash of dread in sight. It was how he wanted to remember her, and how he'd hoped for her to remain. There, in front of him, where he now had the courage to reach out. But he stayed frozen, overcome.

She crossed her arms, seeming none too pleased that she was being made to wait for an answer, and Saruhiko would take that any day over her mournful cries.

"Well?" She asked once more, juggling her work bag awkwardly against her shoulder as he continued to stare, too much in shock to do much of anything. So of course, his next words weren't the most refined.

"Um...what?"

Wrong thing to say, apparently.

She all but dropped her bag, which was a big deal, since it was rather new and pricey from what he recalled, and began giving him a surprisingly welcomed piece of her mind.

"I knew it! You weren't listening," she said, barely holding in a groan from the sound of it. He would've apologized, really he would've, considering how much he'd missed her and how he now knew she didn't deserve half the shit he gave her. But well, he had no idea what was going on, or where they'd been going, or what day it even--

"Honestly," she said, softer this time. "I told you this was important. Fu--Saruhiko, I know you think the rehearsal is a waste of time, but I'd really appreciate it if you weren't late alright? It's tomorrow at six, so please, no more complaining okay?"

Oxygen all but left Saruhiko’s body.

Rehearsal. The wedding rehearsal. There was no way…

But well, was there truly any more reason to doubt?

“Seri,” he said, cutting her off sharply, and smarter men would’ve been afraid of the expression she gave in return. Well, or men who hadn’t just supposedly traveled to hell and back. Twice. “What…day is it?”

At the simple question, she seemed caught off guard. It was rather unlike him to forget details like that, especially when his work consisted of dating forms and remembering appointments, but she answered none the less, giving him the final push. “August 14th. Saruhiko…are you feeling alright?”

An understatement, if he’d ever heard one. His limbs finally relaxed, and it took everything for him to not fall to the floor pathetically, to not make a scene right there. He couldn’t comprehend half the emotions running through him, but for once, none were of the purely negative sort.

The one thing he was able to acknowledge was that he was back. Alive. Home.

I made it.

It didn’t feel nearly as unbelievable as before. Slowly, he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, whether to cover the unguarded expression from being shown to the world, or to simply ground himself. It wasn’t important.

Seri was looking at him still, though the annoyance was replaced with a mildly concerned incertitude, waiting for his answer, the bright blue of her eyes holding the same question as before.

Was he alight?

Yeah, he thought, allowing himself a laugh as he stepped forward, never better.

Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her into him, crushing her against him with the weight of longing he’d built up over ages. He heard her purse hit the floor from the shock of it, and he squeezed tighter, willing himself not to buckle from the repeating mantra in his head.

You’re back.

She yelped against him, her arms staying tense at her sides, unsure of what was going on. Of course. Saruhiko didn’t give hugs, certainly didn’t reciprocate when others initiated them. It was extremely out of character, and the analysis merely made him cling tighter.

His body quaked a bit as he buried his face into her shoulder, the exhaustion and strife flooding out of him in immense waves, leaving him raw and vulnerable in the best way. People were whispering around them, and yeah, maybe he should’ve waited until they weren’t in the middle of the sidewalk, but honestly, he didn’t care.

Hesitantly, Seri’s hands came up to clutch at his sides, taking another moment to test the waters before she gave in completely, pulling him in without question in the usual strong show of support. Even when she didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know why he was upset, she returned the embrace full force, like the pillar she was.

To think, he once believed he could never need this, could never miss this. Such a coward he’d been. Even now after everything, the urge to push it all away was there, weak in his stomach. The part of him which believed nothing was permanent, everything could be taken away.

But well, he could put that part of him to bed at least for today, because it had lost.

They were all here, he’d kept them waiting, and they would never know. Seri. The guys. Misaki.

Misaki.

His thoughts were in a frenzy as he pulled away, dodging Seri’s concerned hand as it quickly came up to check his temperature. He had no clue where to start, what he was doing, but he let desire pull him for once. Best to start with the people closest to his location. “Where…where are the guys?”

Seri’s voice croaked as she collected herself from the tight hug, picking up her bag hastily as Saruhiko began to read the street signs frantically. “T-the office? B-but—what, Saruhiko…you just—who—”

“Let’s go then, before they clock out,” Saruhiko said sternly, already turning them in the direction of his workplace, when she yanked him back by the arm.

She was afraid for him, he could see it. Having him act crazed, affectionate, it was cause for concern, but she didn’t have to worry. He was fine, better than fine, and it was a miracle he was this coherent, after what he’d just finished accomplishing. She couldn’t have known that though, maybe she would never know, if he decided whether or not to tell her one day. All she understood was something was amiss, and she wanted to help fix it. Somehow, the familiar show of care had him resisting another hug, the memory of her crying over his death a bit too strong in that moment. How had she ever been upset about him being gone? How had any of them? It was Saruhiko who needed them the most.

Slowly, he took a deep breath, fixing her with a calmer gaze, if only to calm her down.

It was unfair of him, to leave her in the dark, he knew it, but while he had all the time in the world now, he felt impatient, because that time would never be satisfactory anymore. Especially when…

When I know the expiration dates.

But well, he would dwell on that another day.

“I forgot to tell them something, I just need to go fill them in,” he replied, less hurried, and her shoulders sagged in slight relief.

Yeah, like how they’re idiots, but they should never change.

Ugh, it sounded stupid even in his head. Maybe he wouldn’t put it that way.

She sighed at him, a million questions probably on her mind, but she took his bait in the end. “Okay, I understand, but we just left the office ten minutes ago, remember? We finished up early, and I told everyone they could head home before the evening rush. If we went back now, there’s no guarantee anyone will be there.” She squinted at him, gauging every reaction, and Saruhiko would’ve found the treatment beyond irritating, had it not been what he needed. Truthfully no, he didn’t remember any of that, but he was starting to.

Right, we started to go home early, earlier than usual…she was wondering if I wanted to help set up for the rehearsal…

The pieces of information gradually began to fit together, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what happened next.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue at the inconvenience of both her words and his memory, but Seri knew how to rectify his moods at least, supplying the right words and logic to placate him. “I wouldn’t worry. You’ll see them at the rehearsal tomorrow night, might as well just wait.”

Ah right, she had a point. While a day was a long time to wait, it offered up a solution to his problem, and plus…

Misaki would be there.

As if being pulled, Saruhiko turned in the direction of the Shizume Bridge, where he knew Misaki would be around this time. He died right after me, around this time, so…

If Saruhiko ran, he could probably make it, could intercept the other before the rehearsal, because there was no doubt he couldn’t hide their connection should Misaki see him in the crowded banquet hall. Plus, Misaki didn’t know Saruhiko was alive again, time had been rewritten sure, but all Misaki remembered was Saruhiko failing. Should they meet in public…

Well, the shock and emotion would probably be notable, even if Saruhiko was in control of himself by then.

Annoying.

Regardless, he couldn’t fight the fond smile on his face, the thought of seeing the redhead again too utterly pleasant to resist. Why he hadn’t already booked it towards the other, was because Seri was next to him, and parting from her even for a day wasn’t any simpler, not anymore. Speaking of Seri…

She was gaping at him now, a novel expression for her, and he quickly wiped the smile off his face. Damn, the sudden jump in his character would have to be fixed at some point, or at least more gradual.

“Saruhiko…are you sure you’re not sick? You probably need some sleep. Maybe you shouldn’t come to the—”

“No. I’ll be there. I won’t be late.” Saruhiko made sure to look her in the eyes then, as if he could communicate all he’d learned in those simple statements. Seri just closed her mouth, nodding once, before the softest of smiles bloomed on her face, the trust palpable in the air between them. It was more than he could ask of her, right then. But… “I’m going to head home,” he said, adding a tongue click for good measure. “Maybe sleep isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but shooed him away regardless, satisfied with the exchange enough to not fret about him. Good. With purpose, he turned on his heel, stepping in the direction of the main street before he was being pulled back by her distressed voice once again.

“Wait! Don’t go that way!” He halted instantly, his reflexes a tad more sharpened now, and raised an eyebrow at her disappointed eyes. “Really? I told you earlier, there’s construction that way, it’s probably dangerous. There’s been a few accidents already.”

Saruhiko would’ve protested, in fact, he was about to. After all, he’d taken that way home many times. It was quicker, more efficient and less likely to waste his time, so naturally it should be worth the slight one in a million risk. He was about to tell her all of this, but he never got to.

Saruhiko felt his body jolt, the memory striking him full force as he froze mid-step on the sidewalk, the familiar smell of fresh pavement invading his senses as it all played back.

“And remember, it’s at six! Don’t forget!”

Seri’s voice grated on his nerves as he made way for the cross walk. The end of the day hadn’t come soon enough, and the last thing he needed was the additional time slot on his calendar being occupied. She’d been reminding him constantly, how could he possibly forget? It was a rehearsal anyhow, why put so much importance on attending? It was pretty useless from his standpoint, he was sure everyone could figure out where they were sitting and what they had to do on the actual day of the wedding. Any extra preparation was severely cutting into his work time. It was a miracle they’d managed to finish early today, and even then, he had more than enough of everyone else’s slack to pick up with the work he was taking home.

Pointless.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, barely sparing the blonde a glance when she scurried up to him, about to part ways to her own home, which was still in much need of unpacking. He supposed she’d need his help with that too. Great.

“No promises,” he muttered, waiting for the light to signal for him to walk, and ignored the huff she gave in return. He could sense the desire in her to protest, maybe to try and wear him down with some heart felt statement about how much it would mean to her, or whatever it took for him to give her an indication of a futile promise. He wasn’t in the mood, and she should’ve known by then. She was lucky he was involved at all, he’d never seen a point to weddings in the first place, at least beyond the show type aspect of it.

She remained silent however, surprising him, but the silence wasn’t unwelcome. But as he made for the turn to his usual shortcut, where he parted with her on most days, she called out to him. “Wait Fushimi! You shouldn’t go that way, there’s construction remember? There’s been some accidents already…”

Saruhiko scoffed at her, shrugging his backpack further onto his shoulder as he made no move to turn around. “It’s faster, I’ll be fine. I’m not walking all the way around anyways.”

“But—”

“See you tomorrow,” he said, not adding the ‘maybe’ which threatened to leave his mouth. He was irritated, maybe more than what was appropriate, but it had been a long week, and the stress of social occasions on top of it all wasn’t something he was used to. He just wanted to get home so he could start his reports, hopefully Enomoto wouldn’t be there tonight. Saruhiko didn’t trust himself to not snap at anyone right then.

After another block, he’d left Seri behind completely, coming to the intersection which had cement trucks lining the shoulder. Two of the lanes were closed, the cars messily trying to merge together before reaching the broken stoplight, where a lone worker directed the traffic haphazardly. The sounds of horns honking and disgruntled shouts from car windows were abundant, but Saruhiko paid them no mind as he continued to walk.

Soon, he reached the curb, noting how he was the sole pedestrian on that side of the street. It made sense, since most of the large loading trucks were moving in and out from his side, rendering the pedestrian traffic inconvenient at best, but Saruhiko didn’t care enough to move to the other side. The cement truck, whose driver seemed on the verge of a tantrum, could wait. The worker blew the whistle again, motioning for Saruhiko to walk hastily, and he stepped into the road, glaring at the ground as he strode forward.

Apparently, the cement truck driver hadn’t been paying attention though, missing Saruhiko completely, and taking the whistle as his signal to step on the gas. Hard.

Saruhiko barely got a last breath in.

He felt his hands stiffen, his feet stumble as he fell back, crushed by the truck’s force. The nausea came after that, and so did the disassociation. Did he still have legs? He would have to, from the way his femurs snapped. He’d heard it, there was no way he couldn’t. The tremors traveled up, even his eyelids felt the tingles, the harsh stings of force.

His skull shook, and one may have wondered if his brain had survived the hits it took against that fractured mass. The vibrations traveled further still, down his spine, cracking his ribs like twigs in a burning fire.

All this inconceivable, unimaginable pain was felt in just a split second—there for but a moment before it was all gone. Nonexistent, as if it had never happened.

Then, there had been the silence. White walls. The sound of a shoes on a tile floor. Misaki.

Death.

Saruhiko jolted out of the memory, breathing accelerated as if he'd been in the moment again, and his legs froze out of fear, his proximity to the street a bit too unnerving at that moment. It was too much for him, not the reason behind his death, but the moments leading up to it as well.

Stupid. How stupid he'd been. It would've been so easy, so simple to avoid everything. The last thing he'd said to Seri was more of a dismissal, and the only things in his heart had been contempt and displeasure with life as whole. So typical of him.

And what had it gotten him? A journey filled with horror, but also Misaki, and a massive reality check. All the trials and pain, the voices and doubt...

He'd gone through it all, had to push himself and push Misaki, had to depend on the other as well as feel completely alone. The yearning and hopelessness had felt never ending, and now it was over. He had returned, he was alive.

How? How was he worthy of any of it after a death like that?

It's too much.

His knees finally buckled after all his effort to keep steady, to act normal, he couldn't anymore. The weight of reality was finally crashing down, all he'd been through was finally standing out in his mind. He was having the moment, the I can't believe I'm here moment.

Was this how Misaki had felt, after being told he was victorious.

God, it was like a high he never hoped would end, but also a painful remembrance. But really, how had he ever questioned coming back? How had he been so close to dismissing this?

"Saruhiko!" Seri rushed to his side, catching some of his weight before he was able to collapse fully, shouldering him as best she could. She was always strong, but he'd never appreciated it more. He could hug her all over again in that moment, and suddenly he thought it might be worth it, to run back to the office and see who was there. "Ugh, that's it, there's no way I'm letting you go home by yourself." She looked around, eyeing the intersection ahead with skepticism. "Well, if you really think the shortcut is the fastest way, maybe we should--"

"No." His answer was quick, harsh enough to cut, and she startled notably at the tone until he started to backtrack. "I mean, there's no point, with both of us and the construction, it'll take the same amount of time." He sighed as irritably as he could, hoping the nerves and mixed relief didn't shine through. If he could help it, he would never walk that way again, and he sure as hell wouldn't let Seri either.

He thought of Misaki though, of him standing on the bridge alone, alive but without him, and felt the pang of guilt intensify within him. But with Seri being overprotective and his desire to collapse from exhaustion, there was no way he could go searching, no matter how badly he wanted to. Saruhiko had ventured to hell and back to see the redhead again, to kiss him again, and one day seemed far too long. But part of him knew he had no choice, he would have to wait, would have to let Misaki suffer alone for a handful of hours before he spent the rest of his life making it up to him. It was almost amusing, the thought of seeing the other the next night, for the first time in the living world. He guessed the rehearsal truly was where their story was meant to begin, had things not taken a wrong turn.

So be it.

He pulled Seri far away from the curb, not wanting to walk anywhere near the bustling evening traffic, and began the short journey to his apartment with content. Seri quirked an eyebrow in confusion, throwing up her free hand in surrender at his weird behavior. As she shook her head in disbelief, she balanced him better, but refused to let him pull away completely, like he'd surely fall over if she didn't keep some sort of connection to him. He didn't refuse. "Alright, we'll go the long way then."

"Mm, thanks."

She blanched once more at the easy display of appreciation from him, the sincerity of his tone, and he vaguely wondered how long it would be before she became used to it. Part of him also dreaded how the guys would react to it. Ugh.

Though, the annoyance he feigned was barely there at all anymore. He sighed, the familiar walk, one devoid of creatures and ghostly whispers, seeping into his mind, a memory he'd be sure to catalog for many years to come. The walk home.

As they made their way, Seri huffed, shaking her head slightly. "You really must be sick. That's the last time I let Domyoji make the coffee in the morning, I thought it tasted strange, but you just kept drinking it so--"

Saruhiko snorted, letting her prattle on about their friend’s inability to brew decent coffee, vaguely remembering having no choice but to consume the foul liquid on many occasions. He'd let her believe it was only that, at least for now. He'd tell them all someday, before it was too late, about the challenges and beatings he'd endured, the nightmares...

But for now, he enjoyed the lightness of the conversation, and the warmth settling deep in his chest.

"Huh? What's so funny?" Seri looked up at him, hand tightening on his arm, and he thought yeah, this is more than enough for now.

He stared tiredly at her, the smallest of smiles on his face. "You're right. It must've been the coffee."

When Yata woke up on the morning of August 15th, it was as if he'd been pulled under water again, unable to breathe or comprehend anything going on around him, though he was alone in his simple apartment. It was less like how drowning had felt, and more like he had been submerged in a tank, watching as a flurry of memories, events which would now never come into existence, played before his eyes.

In fact, he'd been feeling this way since his return, since the previous evening when he had walked home, debating on the first course of action, while also juggling the grief still heavy in his heart.

Except, it had felt as if it hadn't been the first time he'd done so. Upon seeing the old paintings in his living room, he couldn't help but think, didn't I throw those out? And upon hesitating to dial his mother's phone number, he wondered why he could already feel the ghost of her arms around him, shushing him in comfort.

The weight of longing and sadness when he thought of Saruhiko was there of course, but it felt extra painful, like it was a wound long healed which had been torn open again, left to bleed anew.

But why was that?

Yata raised his hand to his face, eyes squinting as the beginning trickles of sunlight bled into his room, and felt the dried tears on his face, the roughness of his skin. As gently as he could, like one wrong move could disrupt everything around him, he rolled over in his bed and stared at the date on his digital clock.

August 15th. Yeah, that was right, felt right...but also, seemed hugely inaccurate. Surely, it was the result of Yata's mournful state, his confusion, the trauma he was attempting to come to terms with. He'd yet to touch his paints, yet to eat or think about anything worthwhile really.

The fact that he'd officially beaten death, that he'd finally moved on to the next day of his life, was no doubt a shock he hadn't been ready for, and that's why he felt so unstable.

It would get easier...better, part of him knew it, as if he'd already experienced it, but at the end of it all, each new day would be without Saruhiko, and Yata wondered if he'd ever comfortably be able to accept that.

Timidly, he sat up, the bed suddenly a little too lonely, which was funny, since Saruhiko had only ever shared a dirtied surface with Yata for sleep. Regardless, Yata craved the warmth of another person next to him. He groaned as he stretched, feeling gross from the street wear he had slept in--he hadn't bothered to change--and the ghost of grime on his skin. He knew technically all the evidence from the journey had been erased from his flesh, save for the suspicious scar here and there, but he could sense the dirt under his now clean fingernails, the sweat and dried blood. It was all in his head yeah, but muscle memory was a powerful thing too. He kicked aside a box of art supplies, grimacing at the shades of blue which caught his eyes, and chose to slump down onto the floor. He wasn't ready to make the effort of picking out new clothes for the day, and it was better than the cold bed.

Come to think of it, did he have to get ready at all? The rehearsal should've been cancelled, the one which required the fancy suit which Yata had reluctantly hung up in his closet, and which was probably exactly as he'd left it. Of course, the rehearsal was only a set event if things went according to plan, plans involving no deaths in the bride's party...

At the thought of facing Saruhiko's grieving friends, or imagining how they must be feeling right then, Yata's stomach dipped, threatening to expel what little was inside it. He would need to learn to control that, or simply avoid any talk of funerals and wakes all together. Surely the pain was still fresh for those close to Saruhiko, and for Kusanagi, who was left with comforting his fiancé.

Yet, he'd gotten no text from Kusanagi the previous day about the tragedy, no alert about cancelling the rehearsal or being unavailable himself. In confusion, Yata pulled out his phone, watching it light up with two notifications. His breath hitched upon seeing Kusanagi's name, but as he read the text, the world around him seemed less and less secure.

Kusanagi: Yata, I hope you're up already. Don't forget, you promised to come help the boys set up for the dinner today, see you around noon.

Kusanagi: Also, bring your suit. I don't know if you'll have time to head home and change before the dinner starts.

Yata's first reaction after the distraught faded was to panic. What? The rehearsal was still happening? How?

His fingers scratched against the carpet, the frozen appendages barely getting feeling back as his thoughts reeled left and right. The possibilities he came up with were minimal, but none too pleasant. Perhaps no one knew about Saruhiko yet, maybe no one had been expecting to hear from him until the dinner.

When he doesn't show up...

Yata thought he might actually be sick, and he retreated to the bathroom for good measure, head suddenly pounding. The ceramic of the toilet felt too cold against his clammy hands, and it was just one of many sensations which were too much for him at the moment. The texture of the tile floor, the footsteps from the floor above him, the material of his clothes...

His brain was having too much trouble processing it in addition to the crushing realization that he would have to witness Saruhiko's family finding out about his death. That and the realization he too, would finally know how the other perished.

"Fuck..." Yata groaned, debating on whether he should just skip out, call in sick and deal with Kusanagi's wrath. It wasn't like it would last anyhow...soon the older man would have to deal with a postponed wedding, and a mourning fiancé. It would be easy...to avoid the pain for a second time around. After all, the last thing he wanted to hear was that Saruhiko was gone. He knew, but it didn't make the pangs of loneliness any weaker. Yata tended to be an empathetic guy, from what people told him, seeing so much grief over Saruhiko, who to everyone else, was a complete stranger to him, would be utterly impossible to bear.

Hesitantly, he pulled up his messaging app, reading to give Kusanagi some excuse about not being able to attend, but his fingers wouldn't type. Stupid...as if you could get away with this.

No one would understand, and he wasn't the type of person to lie to a friend, he wasn't sure he was capable of it. He had to go. What kind of friend would he be if he didn't stand by Kusanagi in support when the evening fell to shit?

Acting oblivious would be difficult, but any tears he spilled could surely be blamed on atmosphere, on pity.

He scoffed at the word, hating it suddenly, because his cries would forever be of loss.

But well, maybe part of him kind of owed it to Saruhiko too, to offer whatever comfort he could to the taller's loved ones, since Saruhiko could not. With the grounding thought in mind, Yata straightened up and away from the toilet, letting the calm buzz of the bathroom lights fill the air as his breathing rate lowered, and his panic dissolved.

Right, you have to go for Saruhiko. He won't be able to. You have to get it together dammit! Not just then, but for the sake of his life, for his future. Yata would live enough for the both of them.

With shaky movements, Yata stood up from the floor, shedding his t-shirt as he turned on the shower, letting steam seep into the small space. As he left to grab his suit from the closet and lay down new clothes onto his bed, his eyes caught sight of his old paintings, and the dull and superficial colors which had seemed to taunt him yesterday didn't look as bad.

Maybe he might try to sell them, gain some extra money and start new. The stuff he used to paint before weren't as appealing to him now, and he felt his hands itch for different themes, for stories of trials and love, and most of all himself. Of course, he'd throw in some blues here and there too.

Yata actually managed to crack a smile at that, excited for his slowly developing vision of the future, and reorganized the box of paints he had impulsively kicked earlier. Much better.

Not everything was lost, he knew it. Today would be hard, about as hard as any of the trials of the afterlife, but he'd get to see and laugh with his friends for a little while, and things would improve as the weeks went by. More than anything, Yata resigned to see his mom, and apologize to her fully for his absence. Everything else would fall into place, and he could pace himself as much as he needed to.

He walked back towards the bathroom, his entrance into the steam almost refreshing as he looked towards better days. Though life without Saruhiko would never be one hundred percent, Yata would carry the other with him in all he did and created, and the hopeful thought was enough to give him the energy he needed. And while something in his gut told him something was still amiss, he ended up walking out of the shower with more purpose than ever before.

His eyes never stopped searching for the thousand watt grin, for shining amber eyes, for the familiar brightness in the dark he had begun to crave. Or, that’s what he was used to, but maybe the world around him wasn’t so dark anymore.

Saruhiko turned away from the entrance of the room, which he’d been watching like a hawk, and let himself gaze at madness surrounding him. It was a good madness this time though. The reception hall was probably the least extravagant part of Seri’s wedding, but it was no less decorated, the lighting and fixtures catering to the color scheme perfectly. It felt empty as it was now, tables devoid of the off white table cloths and twinkling lights above, giving it the sought after fantasy look. Those things would be absent until the big day though, for now the large room held empty tables with cheap covers, the artificial light from above casting a bright glow as the bride and groom saw to inspecting it, laying out the seating cards and making sure the flower arrangements wouldn’t be too cluttered. Only the immediate family and friends of the two of them were present, barely fifteen people in total. It made the room look twice as barren, but oh well. When it was filled with guests and music, drenched in smells of cakes and food, Saruhiko was sure Seri would be pleased with it, though she constantly complained throughout the rehearsal that things weren’t right or weren’t properly placed. He didn’t get it himself, did all that really matter?

Saruhiko nearly had the nerve to ask, but Kusanagi, ever the stoplight to disaster, had elbowed him sharply, smile wide as he preached about the bride always being right in these cases. Whatever. It wasn’t like Saruhiko was going to argue, he was content enough as it was, just seeing the blonde and her fiancé fretting about, alive and well in their acts of scolding. Things had calmed down anyhow, the food for dinner being brought in and laid out, along with copious amounts of alcohol courtesy of Kusanagi’s bar. Apparently, Kusanagi’s party had showed up in the afternoon to set up, and were now beginning to wind down, but from where Saruhiko sat, there was no sign of Misaki. Initially, he’d been wandering about, paranoid that something had happened, convinced he’d never be allowed to see Misaki again in some cruel twist of fate, but he’d eventually been escorted to a place setting. It was his assigned seat, a spot at a large table, and it would’ve been an anxious wait, being forced to sit and stare at the one way into the room, had it not been for—

“Fushimi-san! You’re not going to drink?” Enomoto happily held up his own glass and another, handing it to Fuse. Seven pairs of eyes were on him instantly, and he shrugged at the full table of his coworkers. It was only natural they’d all been seated together, and he found the proximity strangely comforting.

It had been refreshing all evening, his yearning for Misaki aside, amidst his party’s bickering and griping during set up. Saruhiko had almost forgotten what it was like, being influenced by each and every quirk and personality trait they had to offer. Hidaka complained about the lack of girls in Kusanagi’s party, as if the wedding would be his first step on a road to true love, and Domyoji was more concerned with the DJ and food, pulling out clippings of suggestions (as if Seri hadn’t booked a caterer months in advance). Kamo made sure his daughter wasn’t getting into things, happy as ever that it was his time with her that month, and Akiyama was lost in a conversation with Benzai, sitting a bit too close to not be a bit suspicious to Saruhiko. Though it was hard to ponder too much on it with Gotou talking his ear off for a good portion of the evening. Saruhiko had simply asked him about one of his collections, and the sudden interest in his hobby had lit a fuse of some sort. Saruhiko couldn’t mind too much. As for Enomoto and Fuse well…they were as affectionate as he remembered them, but less sickeningly so.

Saruhiko had initially taken care as to not seem so different around them, but with their smiles and loudness, as well as their need to throw him in the middle of their conversations, he had dropped the act hours ago. Besides, seeing their surprised reactions to his sudden ‘niceness’ was a gift in and of itself.

It didn’t mean he had changed completely though, and the sharp criticisms remained apparent in his speech whenever they got too rowdy. Saruhiko rolled his eyes at them, willing the attention away. “Unlike you all, I like to actually be in control of my actions,” he said, clicking his tongue as he eyed the champagne critically. “Besides, I’d hate to be the one of you who gets too drunk and ruins the dinner.”

Oh how Seri’s punishment would be steep.

“Hey! Why are you implying that it’ll be one of us?” Hidaka jumped in, his own glass sloshing messily, and Saruhiko snorted from the panic in his eyes. Fuse neglected to comment, sipping his drink in amusement while the rest of the table laughed, and Saruhiko bathed in the familiarity of it all. Hidaka’s expression was nothing short of petulant, but he was always quick to recover. “This is hardly a good atmosphere to get drunk anyways! After work tomorrow, you’re totally coming to a bar with us Fushimi-san!”

It was meant more as a distraction, since the invitation had been uttered from the mouths of his coworkers one too many times, and for the most part, they were used to his outright refusal. Even in the last few years, with his less standoffish nature, it would take copious amounts of begging to get him anywhere near a public outing with the lot of them. As for now though… “Sure. Let me know where,” he replied, tone bored as his eyes scanned the crowd, back to their earlier task of locating a particular redhead.

He didn’t bother looking at their gaping expressions, but he felt them, the disbelieving eyes boring into his back irritatingly. Three, two, one…

Rather than a direct verbal assault though, they tag teamed, with Hidaka fearlessly grabbing Saruhiko’s face and jerking it towards him, stupidly inspecting his features while Gotou poked him. In the meantime, Fuse saw his opening at last, the bastard, and promptly let loose his skepticism. “Are you sure you’re Fushimi Saruhiko? You haven’t been replaced with some android, trying to gain our favor in order to steal government secrets?”

“Yeah, you didn’t even threaten to kill me when I spilled coffee on you earlier!” Domyoji jumped in, raising an accusing finger. “You’re an imposter!”

Wrenching away from Hidaka’s grip (who finally had the nerve to look a bit abashed about it), Saruhiko fixed them with a glare, mostly annoyed from being distracted from his watch, but there wasn’t as much animosity as usual, and the idiots began to use it as more concrete evidence as to why he had been replaced (possibly by aliens now).

“I’m surprised you all managed to figure it out, you got me,” he deadpanned, and it fed into the madness.

“He has jokes now!” Domyoji’s shout garnered more than a few stares, and Seri directed a fierce glare at them, the typical ‘I love you but shut up’ traveling across the hall. The ginger had enough sense to quiet down, as much as he could at least, but he was soon smirking again, nudging Akiyama in the side as he spoke. “Pft, I bet Fushimi-san would even let me hug him now, huh?” He snorted at the thought, the rest of the table raising their eyebrows at just the suggestion, joke or not.

However, it gave Saruhiko just what he needed to shut them up. A dangerous smirk made its way onto his face, and the atmosphere at the table might as well have plunged in temperature. Not his fault, they were the ones testing his patience. Blinking slowly, he fixed Domyoji with his challenging expression, enjoying how the older boy notably gulped. “As a matter of fact, I would. Why don’t you try it?”

Benzai paled, Enomoto choked, and the rest of them didn’t seem to know what to make of the situation. Domyoji straightened in his seat, innocent eyes widening as he took in the words. “W-wait…really? You’re not joking?”

“Nope.”

It was easy to see the cogs turning in Domyoji’s head, trying to discern if it was a bluff or not, and really, Saruhiko hardly knew either. Though he was never much for physical contact of any sort, something about traveling to hell twice just to sit at this table full of losers made him a bit more willing.

Domyoji squinted at him, but rose from his seat anyways, inching little by little towards Saruhiko. The rest of the table held their breaths. “O-okay…imma do it…last chance to back out ha…”

“I’m waiting,” Saruhiko said, eyes never leaving the quivering form of Domyoji. Enomoto was biting his nails.

“Y-yeah, prep-prepare to be hugged!”

“Joy.”

Domyoji was about a foot away now, and it had taken him a good two minutes to cross the initial five foot distance from around the table, and Saruhiko could feel the warmth and tension radiating off him now. He inched forward again, the sleeve of his jacket just touching Saruhiko’s shoulder…

“Oh god, never mind!” Domyoji shouted suddenly, flying back into his seat at lightning speed, clutching Akiyama’s arm. “Hell no! It’s like walking into a venus fly trap!”

Saruhiko smirked triumphantly as his friends exhaled, laughing at the ginger’s expense, and soon the topic of his sudden personality change was lost to comforting Domyoji, and trying to not attract more attention. He considered it a success.

The reception hall had filled considerably in the next half hour, the remaining relatives and college peers flooding in to take their seats.

Still no Misaki. Saruhiko had begun to shred napkins in his lap, glaring at the childishness of it as he reached for yet another. The emotion bubbling up inside him was fierce, upset at being caged, and he willed it down. He caught Enomoto staring at him a few times in concern, but Saruhiko prayed the other wouldn’t bring it up in front of everyone else.

The sound of clicking heels distracted him from worrying, if only for a moment. Seri came bounding over in quick strides, and Saruhiko was pretty sure he hadn’t seen her sit down once since the evening began.

“Alright guys, food is out and almost everyone is seated,” Seri announced to them in a hushed whisper as she approached the table, hands smoothing over the front of her embroidered evening dress. “How do I look? I’m going to go meet Kusanagi’s side of the family now.”

Gotou’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked her over. A backless A-line dress, blue in color, with gold beading in the front, and high heels to match. Simple, but regal. “Wait…didn’t you meet them earlier during set up?”

She crossed her arms, the question deemed unacceptable from the simple movement. “I mean yes, I met some of the guys, but no formal introductions, certainly no family or college friends! Proper introductions are in order.” She said the last bit with a frazzled gesture to her person, and wordlessly, they all gave her the thumbs up, which was enough for her to tuck a stray piece of hair back with a pin, and train a smile to her face before walking back into the fray. Saruhiko did not envy her. However, she turned back around halfway, like she’d forgotten something, and grabbed a new glass of champagne quickly before returning to them.

Benzai was about to ask what was the issue, but he never got the chance.

“Thank you all for coming to this,” she started, voice notably softer, a tone saved for them, and she raised her glass. Her crystal blue eyes twinkled with something private as she scanned over each of their faces, and Saruhiko clenched his pile of shredded paper, remembering why he’d tried so hard to make it back to this life, one where he could hear such pointless words. Except, he couldn’t call them that anymore, huh? “I know planning this has been hectic, and it’s probably going to get worse with the wedding in a month, but…having your help, I couldn’t ask for better friends, my pillars of strength. Cheers to all of you.”

Calendar dates and years repeated themselves in his mind as he and everyone else raised a glass, but he paid no mind, knowing it was useless. What was meant to happen would, as much as it angered him, but the things he could control, like this, he’d gladly take advantage of.

Seri wiped her eyes, taking a fast gulp of her champagne before she was off, leaving them in a bubble of stunned silence amongst the chirps of laughter and greetings. Saruhiko’s hands went back to his half shredded napkin, but suddenly he had no energy for that either.

“And with that…it’s time for more alcohol,” Hidaka sniffed, standing with Domyoji and excusing them to the banquet spread. Kamo seemed less than pleased with the example they set, but it didn’t matter, because soon he was being dragged away by his daughter anyhow, eager to get first crack at the desserts being laid out. As for everyone else, they dispersed, Akiyama and Benzai disappearing to somewhere unknown, and Gotou left to greet some of Seri’s in laws, as was appropriate. It left Fuse and Enomoto with him, which he didn’t mind so much, except for the fact they obviously knew something was amiss with him, his head turning continuously towards the entrance, eyes scanning the crowds.

If they exchanged some sort of knowing look, Saruhiko wouldn’t know, but after a few minutes, Fuse was excusing himself none too subtly, touching Enomoto’s shoulder as he made for the banquet table. Great.

It wasn’t helpful that Enomoto sat almost directly in front of him from across the table, the eye contact, although shy, searing as Saruhiko avoided it. He was fairly sure Enomoto was angling himself now, trying to catch Saruhiko’s eye, periphery or otherwise, but upon finally realizing Saruhiko’s resistance, sighed in resignation.

Not ‘I guess I’ll give up’ resignation, no, the ‘guess I’ll talk to him anyways’ resignation. Ugh.

“Fushimi-san…you seem distracted,” Enomoto commented, like it wasn’t obvious to them both. Saruhiko appreciated his attempt to not seem nosy though. “Are you looking for someone?”

Someone. Hm.

To him, Misaki was more than a someone, he was everything. It was as scary as it was pathetic, but it shouldn’t be a surprise. They’d gone through alot together, Saruhiko had done so much to just be able to see the redhead again, to start fresh and build something together. The separation he’d been forced to endure, the pain and desperation, it made it so clear in his head. He wanted to be with Misaki, in whatever way the redhead would permit, though Saruhiko’s selfish desires clouded up the vision quite a bit. Now, the distance between them, which was now minimal, barely there at all, felt agonizing. So yes, he was looking for someone, the one who should’ve been there from the start. There was no use denying part of that, he guessed.

“You could say that,” Saruhiko replied, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. He was watching Kusanagi’s main table, where a band of young men were seated, drinking and laughing away. Saruhiko recognized them from the Return, from the vision Munakata had allowed them to see, but they were happy now. Only one thing was similar: Misaki was missing.

Enomoto beamed after recovering from the initial shock of actually getting an answer out of him, skipping a few seats over until he was almost in front of Saruhiko. “Who? Someone special?”

It was hard to fight the fondness welling up inside him from those words, because really, they were true. He couldn’t let that show though, Misaki was supposed to be a stranger. Saruhiko might be able to get away with calling him an acquaintance, someone he met outside of work by happenstance and who just so happened to be part of Kusanagi’s group. That was even a stretch, openly admitting any deeper involvement was ill advised. He kept it in mind, when choosing his words. “Someone who…doesn’t annoy me I guess.”

Enomoto actually had the nerve to snort at that, fixing him with an uncharacteristic smug smile, and Saruhiko knew the intent he’d tried to get across had failed the moment those olive eyes twinkled in delight. Oh well. Not like it mattered. If he kept all these idiots around, and he’d be sure to, they’d be finding out about Misaki sooner or later, and much to Saruhiko’s chagrin.

“Fushimi-san, that’s basically you for ‘someone I like’ you know?” Enomoto said, rising from his chair before Saruhiko could respond. Not like he’d actually had an answer to such a bold statement though. He guessed his friends really did know his quirks to the smallest detail. He could deal with that, he supposed.

Giving him one last wink over his shoulder, Enomoto sauntered off to his boyfriend, leaving Saruhiko alone at the table, waiting dutifully once again.

The group toasts, the ones which included the whole room were about to begin, the last of the late arrivals grabbing plates of food and taking their seats. Saruhiko could see Kusanagi checking on his own tables, while anyone who had been standing halted their conversations as they waited for the bride to take the mic. Saruhiko was going to tune out the speeches, not needing Seri’s rehearsed words, stress induced, to reach his ears. Besides, the last of his focus had quickly dwindled, eyes drooping in a sudden bout of disappointment. Funny, it was an emotion he had never let himself feel before, too worried about his attachments and the grief they could bring. Now, it overcame him in waves as the room quieted, missing the one voice he so craved and—

“Where’s Yata?”

Jerking his head up, Saruhiko sought the source of the voice, catching Kusanagi talking to another young man wearing glasses, the dark rim of his hat occasionally hiding his eyes. “Oh, I think he’s still in the back unloading the last of the alcohol. Awashima-san was worried we were running out,” the man said, and a brief spark of stress flashed across Kusanagi’s face.

“Damn, we’re about to start. I’ll—”

Saruhiko’s chair scratched against the floor from the force and speed with which he sat up, crossing the several feet to Kusanagi in record time, much to the two’s surprise. Saruhiko didn’t care. “I’ll go get him, things are starting soon Kusanagi-san,” Saruhiko said, looking over to where Seri was beginning to fiddle with the mic. “Awashima won’t appreciate the wait.”

“Ah,” Kusanagi said, a bit startled. “Thank you Fushimi…uh, he should be right out back, just call his name and—”

“Got it.” Saruhiko barely finished before he was turning around, stalking out of the main entrance and veering left, towards the building’s back exit.

The hallway was long, but the door was in plain sight, each footstep beginning to echo louder and louder as he approached. It was déjà vu, but not, seeing as how the first time he had been so nervous approaching a door, it meant terrors of unimaginable proportion were waiting for him. This time, all he’d encounter was a warm embrace, soft skin, a voice which Saruhiko had used to motivate him through fire and dangers of all kinds.

This was it. After all this time…

Who knew how long it had actually been, years maybe, with how long his second journey had felt. He wondered what Misaki had done in that span, before time had been rewritten. All because of Saruhiko, and his stubbornness. He almost felt guilty, stealing away all of the progress Misaki must’ve managed in that time, but the selfishness in his heart was too strong, the relief he felt greater than everything else.

"Saruhiko! Did you hear that? You'll see your friends, it'll all be the same!”

In the end, Misaki had been right. They were picking up right where they left off, and then some. Saruhiko shouldn’t have doubted him, Misaki and his strange, but unyielding faith in the both of them. Surely, Saruhiko would have to pay that back, and he would, in whatever way Misaki wanted. Saruhiko would never be perfect, still shouldered a lot of the same issues as before, but he was willing to try now, and he could only hope Misaki would appreciate it.

Heh, gods know I appreciate him.

And Saruhiko couldn’t help but wonder if they, those beings who had been rooting for him from their gaudy thrones, were watching this moment too, holding their breath as Saruhiko was, heart beats stalling as he pushed the door open…

The cold night air hit him, the alley darker than the nearby street due to its lack of light, illuminated by a lone lamppost as a figure unloaded one last box off the back of a car. Saruhiko froze, the agony of separation and too much effort falling away in an instant when he caught a glimpse of fiery hair and toned arms.

Misaki had his back to him, the occasional curse being muttered as he cut open the last box with a knife, his back muscles flexing from carrying the heavy load and stacking it on top of the others. His suit jacket was lying haphazardly on one of the boxes, his shirt sleeves rolled up and somewhat stained with dirt. The pants he wore needed to be hemmed, from what Saruhiko could tell, and had he not been so taken by the image before him, he might’ve commented.

It wasn’t the time though.

Misaki rested his hands on his hips, looking over his work with a heavy sigh, like he’d never done a harder task. Saruhiko smiled softly, and he thought he saw Misaki laugh, like they’d unknowingly shared the same thought. Misaki had done much harder feats of labor, they both had. Complaining about anything else was ridiculous at that point.

It was the reminder of those shared challenges, the connection between them, and the memory of Misaki’s bone crushing hug as the redhead left him in hell, that had Saruhiko’s fingers slipping from the door, letting it slam shut, tearing through the silence.

Misaki jumped, amber eyes shooting to meet his blue ones, and the revelation was instantaneous. The echo of the door slamming filled the silence, as if the noise was having trouble traveling through the thickness of it. Saruhiko swallowed, because seeing Misaki’s eyes, so vibrant, so alive…it was more than he could handle.

It all seemed to stand still, and Saruhiko wondered if seconds even passed while he watched Misaki’s lip tremble, and felt his own blood rush, his heart beat ringing in his ears. It would make sense, given what he knew, for time to be manipulated, for higher forces to give him this one moment, unaffected by time or whatever was happening in the dining room. After all the universe had taken, it indulged him in this, letting him feel the burst of love he felt for the person only twelve feet away.

It was the connection which had guided him to safety.

Saruhiko was on the ground before he could blink, if he’d even been able to, too taken with the image of Misaki in the flesh and blood before him. Misaki’s arms were around him, nuzzling his face into his neck as Saruhiko toppled back, catching himself right before his back hit the dirt. His jacket was probably ruined, he couldn’t care less. He pulled Misaki farther into his arms, legs squeezing against the redhead’s sides due to the force of the full body hug, warmth unlike anything Saruhiko had ever felt before flooding him.

Searing. Full of life.

“You’re here….” Saruhiko whispered, the feelings which had built up too much to hold back any longer.

Misaki pulled his face away from the taller’s neck, staring with wide, disbelieving eyes as he half cried, half laughed. “I’m here? You dumbass, what about you? What are...” Misaki trailed off as his gaze lowered to Saruhiko’s lips, and Saruhiko’s intentions weren’t far off. They met in the middle, kisses quick and desperate, drinking each other up like they could disappear again in the next minute. But something told him that they’d never let that happen again, they would find a way back to each other, because they were that idiotically stubborn, deep down. Misaki tasted like mint, a flavor which had been absent the first time they’d kissed. It was a small, embarrassing detail, but Saruhiko reveled in it. Misaki’s taste.

Misaki held the last kiss for longer this time, though Saruhiko was hopeful there’d be many more in the future, and his eyes were on Saruhiko again, pupils blown wide and searching. Misaki let his body relax, legs repositioning to sit on either side of Saruhiko’s waist, and shook his head. “How is this…what…how are you here? Munakata said you…”

The words were lost to the noiseless air, too grave to be spoken again, like they were cursed. It was silly, to fear such a thing, but Saruhiko was still in shock if he was being honest, hadn’t fully recovered from returning to that moment on the street on an August evening. Life was so fragile, he was hyperaware of how he could lose it again, from the drive to the rehearsal to walking to work. Even for him, who had beaten the odds and returned, wasn’t guaranteed the next day. No one was.

But this, Misaki staring at him with confusion and unhidden fondness…he’d try to keep it as long as possible.

There was a lot to explain, where should he begin? Was it worth retelling those months of agony, the months spent lying around until the solution had come to him? Would Misaki want to know about each new trial? Would Saruhiko actually be able to tell him? There was so much to share, and yet he had no idea what was appropriate. Something told him the redhead would want to hear it all though, the journey which had brought him back.

Misaki leaned down at the same time Saruhiko pushed himself up farther, their foreheads bumping, like a silent and eternal pact between them. I’m on your side.

Yeah, sounds about right.

Saruhiko sighed, figuring he’d best start at the beginning, and opened his mouth. “I—”

The applause from the adjoining room reminded him of where they were though, what they were supposed to be, versus what they were. Somehow he didn’t mind the interruption, the reminder. Saruhiko stared at the door leading back to the reception hall, back to the world they now both shared, and Misaki laughed from his spot on top of him.

“Eh Saru, maybe you should save it,” Misaki said, smiling as he got up and offered Saruhiko his hand. “I think we’re late.”

Saruhiko managed to crack a smile at Misaki’s poorly concealed amusement, because yeah, time was a thing they actually had to worry about again, passing regularly and all too quickly, unaltered except for those truly worthy.

With a soft nod, Saruhiko grabbed his partner’s hand, the snug fit all too familiar and infinitely perfect, and followed him into the building.

Yata shut off the television, staring with displeasure at the blank screen. “Well, that was shit.” He dropped the remote in defeat, plopping onto his side on the soft couch, one which he never got tired of sinking into. After so many years of his shitty, torn up couch which could barely hold Saruhiko and him at the same time, the new plush couch had been an amazing addition. Of course, they'd had to wait a year or so before they'd gotten it, since they needed a bigger apartment to fit the furniture, but it had been worth the wait.

Yeah...

Lots of things had been worth the wait.

Yata smiled as he looked out across the ample sized living room, which was nearly as big as his old apartment in total size, and basked in the afternoon glow seeping in through the windows. They'd been living there for a few short months, but Yata had gladly associated it with feelings of comfort, as a refuge. Home. Sometimes the fridge buzzed too loud and the lights flickered, the sink would routinely clog and they needed to replace some of the tile in the kitchen...but mostly, he couldn't ask for better.

The sound of typing reached his ears from the table, along with a disinterested hum as the owner of the device addressed Yata. "I told you it looked awful, you shouldn't have wasted your time."

Yata watched as Saruhiko stretched in his lounge wear, looking like the perfect mix of annoyed and relaxed as he shut his laptop, scooting it away from him and jostling Yata's strewn about art supplies, all of which sat on the table. Yata usually yelled at him for not respecting his stuff, but he also knew Saruhiko had told him to get his crap off the table many times in the first place, so there was no use in arguing. The table was always a mess, and it would probably stay that way forever.

Yata's smile grew, the reminder of Saruhiko always being by his side too wonderful to ignore. He knew it like his own name now, but even after two years and all their time in the afterlife together, the thought of Saruhiko beside him made his stomach flip. It proved to be true in any case, especially when he'd wake up at night drenched in sweat, images of barren wastelands and tombs fresh in his mind, to find Saruhiko wide awake beside him, gripping his hand tight. Yata would do the same for the taller in return, when the talk of the future came up, when certain years and dates approached, and the light left Saruhiko’s eyes for brief moments.

They coped the best they could in those times, and Yata knew those things wouldn't ever go away, yet...he couldn't help but find himself incredibly happy.

Well, except when he was subjected to shitty movies.

"The effects looked cool! It was just...I totally knew everything that was gonna happen, and I wasn't expecting all the hell and heaven scenes..."

Saruhiko snorted, leaning back in his chair before scowling in distaste at his now dull soda. "You knew going in it was a story about angels and demons, you should know better than to watch those anymore," Saruhiko sighed. "They're pathetically unrealistic."

Got that right. It was a tired joke between them, movies about death and the afterlife, or any themes similar. Since having experienced the real thing, the appeal of such plots often fell short. While Saruhiko had given up trying to enjoy films about that stuff, Yata was more stubborn. He continuously searched, eager for an outlet for his own experience, but of course, found none. Saruhiko routinely reminded him that, as far as they knew, no one else had any idea what awaited them in the great beyond, or whatever. It remained annoying regardless, but lately he'd started to ponder a new option, and it grew more and more enticing with each day.

Well, if we're the only ones who know...

The idea poked harder at Yata’s brain, and well, when he actually was inspired it was hard to resist. Standing up with a huff, he walked over to the table, grabbing his tablet and inspecting it with a bit too much focus, like it would give him all the answers rather than him actually doing any work. If only it were so simple. "I should just make my own story, I've been getting better with my digital stuff, I could do a comic..."

Instinctively, his free hand joined Saruhiko's on the table, the touch as natural as breathing, and the taller hummed, raising a brow at him. "About?"

Yata smirked, trying not to laugh as the amusement between them grew. "Not sure, maybe these two people die and they have to go on some journey to be brought back to life. There's also this god who won't shut the fuck up. Oh and a parrot."

"There's a parrot?"

"There's a parrot."

Yata had to look away, determined to not cave first, and he was probably crushing the life out of his boyfriend's hand, but oh well.

Saruhiko stood up, coming up behind Yata and hiding his face in the crook of his neck. "Hm, sounds fake."

Yata bit his lip. "Yeah, totally lame. Imma scrap it."

"Would never happen."

"Two out of five stars."

"I would've given it one."

By the end of their exchange, Yata was dying, leaning on the table for support and trying his best not to drop his tablet. He made good money now, but last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of getting a new one of those.

Yata leaned back into the touch, reveling in the simple feeling of Saruhiko's steady breaths against his skin, and wondered if he'd actually do it.

A story like theirs would take a lot of time, of planning. The details were important, the imagery. It would mean revisiting some painful memories, opening up to complete strangers about an experience he held near and dear to his heart, but at times wanted to push away with the strongest force. People would hate it, would criticize it, the events which changed his view of life. He knew that of course, as an artist. But this was different yeah?

He turned his head slightly, the impulse to catch Saruhiko's lips in a kiss too strong, and remembered it was different for both of them. The suffering they'd shared, the relief, it was all too much to wrap up easily and cast out into the world.

And then suddenly, the idea he'd been pondering for weeks seemed less and less appealing, all too complex and grand.

Yata didn't need other people to know about his strife to feel validated, he realized, not when Saruhiko was there, not when he woke up every morning, proving of his success.

"You still thinking about actually drawing it?" Saruhiko asked hours later while they were in bed, limbs entangled and eyelids droopy, and Yata smiled at him, more content than he'd ever been. All because of an accident, a journey, and the people in his life. It was a story so personal to him it hurt, and as Saruhiko smiled at Yata's soft shake of the head, Yata knew he felt the same.

And he thought, well, maybe they could keep the story to themselves just a little bit longer.

"Watching again Munakata?" Mikoto's gruff voice broke Munakata out of his pleasant observance, and the deity spun around quickly, as if caught. The water of the pool rippled into nothingness, disturbing the image of the two lovers until they were absent from view. Munakata huffed, not one to deny the allegations, but not particularly happy with how sneaky Mikoto had become. What happened to those barbaric, loud footsteps from before?

Munakata couldn't be severely displeased though, seeing as how the volume change was most likely due to Mikoto's desire to not attract attention when he returned from visiting Totsuka. The thought caused a calm smile to bloom on his face, the one which Mikoto usually dubbed as being creepy, but Munakata was hardly swayed by such insult.

Things are right in the world, living and dead it seems.

"I was simply checking on how they were doing," Munakata said, the relief clear in Mikoto's shoulders when Munakata didn’t ask him of his previous whereabouts. As if he didn't already know. "I am...happy that they're doing so well."

"Been two years," Mikoto muttered, slumping in his seat with a noticeable displeasure in his aura. "You can stop babysittin 'em."

"I wouldn't put it in such a way, it's not babysitting," Munakata sighed, turning back towards the pool. Perhaps Mikoto did have a point though, there was no concrete reason for checking in on them, but well...maybe Munakata just favored them, two souls which he greatly respected, and would be honored to see again. Nothing wrong with it. Also, it was no lie that Munakata had caught Mikoto staring into the pool from time to time as well, smiling at the progress of the two Returners. But, Munakata was not one to point fingers in retaliation. At least, not at that particular moment. "What's got you in a mood?"

A grunt was his reply, and Munakata nodded. "Ah, you know, you can spend as much time with him as you please, Totsu--"

"I know Munakata," Mikoto rolled his eyes, slouching further into his seat. "We got stuff to do though, always..."

Ah, well that is true.

Their jobs of sorting, of dealing with late arrivals, it never ended. Though heaven was Mikoto's domain, he would never be able to be there permanently, with the one he loved, until he and Munakata were relieved from their duties, and allowed to retire to the sanctuary. Time was strange for them, it passed quickly and yet not at all, the centuries bleeding together as they watched the world develop. Perhaps Munakata was a bit envious too, of Yata and Fushimi, for getting to live their lives freely in a way Munakata could not.

However, such thoughts were unbecoming. One day he would get his freedom, and hopefully when he did, he would be satisfied with the work he'd left behind, and those chosen to take his place. Speaking of...

"When's our time up eh? I never remember," Mikoto mumbled from his seat, staring at the baroque ceiling above, the bell of a late arrival reminding them both of the tasks which still needed attending. Oh well, this was Munakata's job anyways.

As he grabbed his cane and made for the door which would lead him to Isana's post, he dipped his hand in the pool, leaving Mikoto with the image of Yata and Fushimi, sleeping soundly in the life they'd created together.

Mikoto peered at the scene with fondness, before dipping his hand in, watching it vanish, and there was a finality in the movement which made Munakata regret not appreciating the scene more. He supposed it was fine though, he would see them both again, in time.

As he made way for the exit, a cunning smile formed easily on his face, his reply easy and certain. "Oh…seventy years or so. That sounds about right."

#sarumi #adri writing #k project

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words-are-like-colors · 8 years ago

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Title: Dancing With A Monkey

Originally Posted On: July 21, 2016

Word count: 2812

Rating: T

Relationship: M/M

Parts: 1/1

Tags: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki, Fushimi Saruhiko, Yata Misaki, fluff, dancing, cute sarumi, high school

Summary: Fushimi decides to take Misaki to The Dance, a dance that happens in the middle of the year. At this dance, four different schools (Scepter 4, Homra, Jungle, Silver) join for the dance. It's very common for the schools to meet so everyone knows everyone, all at the dance are seniors. Even Anna who is grown up. So anyways. They go to the dance and they got picked for the snowball and Fushimi got a picture that he really doesn't want anyone to see.

Notes: Song is Lady in Red by Chris De Burgh Hahaha I just realized I had written this for SarumiFest2016 and forgot about it! Edit: As for now, this still needs editing... big time.

“Come on Misaki, we’re going to be late.” Fushimi sat back on the couch, waiting for his boyfriend to hurry up and get dressed.

“Shut up Asshole,” Yata yelled from the bedroom, just was he opened the door and walked out. He held his shoes in his hands as he walked to the couch.

Tch. Fushimi stood up. “You don’t even know how to tie a tie.” He smirked and reached forward to help the smaller boy. He ignored the threatening growl and with a quick swipes of his hand, Yata’s shirt was buttoned up and his tie tied properly.

“Why are we even going to this stupid dance. Nobody even knows about our re-re-… Us!” Yata slipped his shoes on, blushing slightly.

Fushimi took the time to open the door and ruffle Yata’s chestnut hair before walking out to the car and answering. “I thought this would be a good time to show people.”

Yata’s cheeks were dusted pink as he got into the car, wondering on what people thought about them. He shut the door and looked outside. He didn’t want to look at Fushimi. That would just increase the awkwardness It’s not people haven’t noticed us yet. But why now?! Stupid monkey.

Fushimi parked and Yata hopped out of the car, still embarrassed. When the taller put his arm around the shorter’s shoulders, he proceeded to shrug off the taller man’s arm which was slung around his shoulders but Fushimi tightened his grip. Yata rolled his eyes and gave his boyfriend a frown. They walked up to the ticket counter where the short lady raised an eyebrow at them. Yata bit his lip and looked down, trying to keep the urge to punch Fushimi at bay. "Tickets?”

“Sure.” Fushimi reached into his coat and brought out two tickets and handed them to the woman.

"Going to meet your dates I presume.” The lady smiled at the two boys as she typed their names into the computer marking that they showed up at the dance.

Yata stiffened a little as Fushimi spoke. “Ah, you’re wrong. I already have my little girl here.”

“I’m not a girl!” Yelped Yata, blushing bright red as he elbowed his boyfriend in the ribs, a oomph sounded in reply. The red dragged the blue by his collar inside the building, ignoring the wide eyes of surprise given by the woman. “What was that for?! Not EVERYONE needs to know,” Yata hissed once inside, people milling around them.

Fushimi shrugged. “So? I’m getting something to drink. Want anything?” Yata’s hand fell from his shirt as he stood back up.

Huff. “No.” Yata stuffed his hands in his pockets as Fushimi left. He walked over, seeing his friend Anna sitting in a chair. Her pale legs crossed, her delicate fingers drummed on her knee as she watched people dance. Her head snapped up as Yata came near. “Hello Yata-chan.” Her dark red and black dress was cut short at her knees, the dress forming to her body beautifully. At least she wasn’t wearing her usually dress.

“Hey.” Yata fell back into the chair next to her. His eyes scanned the room. Noise of people laughing and the catchy music rang against their eardrums as the lights shone into their eyes. Excitement was bouncing off of the people dancing, girls and boys alike. Yata closed his eyes for a moment to take in the noise and excitement.

"Fushimi came with you didn’t he? It would be weird if your boyfriend didn’t come with you.” Anna’s voice drifted into his head. Yata bolted out of his chair in surprise and shock.

His face flushed the color of his hair as he cried out. "He isn’t my b-boy-…. Oh…” He fell back into his chair. “He is my Boyf-f-friend.” Yata’s face was still bright red as he glanced at Anna, who was smiling softly at him.

"So he is here then?”

Yata nodded. “Y-yeah…. He is getting a dr-”

“Misaki? I thought you didn’t want anyone to know about us.” Yata yelped and flinched, seeing Fushimi walk over, a slick smirk plastered across his face.

Fushimi ignored Yata’s stuttering and sputtering and looked at Anna. “Hello Anna.”

“Hello Fushimi-kun.” Anna smiled at him. Fushimi still had some sense to be nice to the red princess even know he moved to the blue school. Anna has always been an big impact on everyone who comes near her, enough of an impact to even make the stubborn Saruhiko soft.

“Excuse me Yata and Fushimi.” The girl stood up and bowed to the both of them before running off to Mikoto who was standing on the other side of the room.

“Tch, maybe we should dance.”

“Huh?” Yata’s amber eye were wide in surprise as he looked up at the his boyfriend.

Fushimi had his head turned the other way, trying to hide his discomfort. “You heard me.”

Laughter bubbled up in Yata’s chest as he pictured his boyfriend dancing but he shoved it down. “N-now?”

“When else?” Their gazes met. “This is called a ‘dance’ for a reason.”

“Chu, I’m going to wait for the snowball.” Yata stood up. “It’s in a hour or so.”

“So you expect me to sit here for an hour? We might as well of stayed home asshole.” His blue sharp gaze shot at Yata.

“You wanted to come! You must of had a reason. Dumbass.”

“Free food? What would you come for Mi~sa~ki-?” He bent his head low enough so they were eye to eye.

“Don’t call me that in pub-” Fushimi’s hand came up quickly to cup the shorter’s chin and brought their lips together into a soft kiss. Yata’s thoughts of punching him melted away as he connected their lips. Fushimi pulled back from the kiss and straightened up. “I get to call you want I want too.”

Misaki’s face lit up again. “HEY! WE’RE IN PUBLIC!”

His boyfriend let out a laugh. “Yell louder and everyone will know.”

“THE SNOWBALL IS STARTING IN FIVE MINUTES.” The announcement came over the speakers, making Dewa jump in his seat. Tch. Fushimi rolled his eyes. Here comes Misaki’s dance he wanted. Does he even know how to dance simply?

Fushimi let out a sigh and finished off what he was eating. Munakata,class president, pushed his glasses back so they glared and stood up. “We might as well get ready.” The others nodded and got out of their seats as well. Fushimi followed suit.

“Fushimi! Fushimi! Creepy glasses!” A yelping came from behind him. The voice was too pippy and feminine to be Misaki’s so he took the chance and turned around. “What?”

“Fushimi!” He had turned around to see the strain, Neko, bouncing up to him. Her short dress was a light pink like her hair. “Here!” She shoved a letter into his hands and bouncing off with a “good luck!” Call behind her.

He sighed and opened it, a photo and card slid out. Fushimi and Yata-chan, you two will be the first dancers in the snowball. Good luck! - (I’m not tell you who)

His face paled at the letter then went to a uncharacteristically shade of dark red as he turned over the photo. He tucked into his pocket for later, mostly to tease Misaki. I wonder if he got his own letter. He quickly pushed through the crowd to find Misaki growling at Eric. “Come on.” Fushimi grabbed Misaki’s arm before he could protest and dragged him out to the middle of the room.

“Oi! What is this about?!” The shorter pulled his arm out of his grip.

His eyes sparked with mischief “Snowball Mi~sa~ki, we got chosen.”

“Huh?-” “THE SNOWBALL IS STARTING NOW. THE CHOSEN COUPLE IS FUSHIMI SARUHIKO & YATA MISAKI.” The booming voice came over the loudspeakers.

I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight, I’ve never seen you shine so bright, I’ve never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance, They’re looking for a little romance, given half a chance,

“Can the little virgin even dance?” Fushimi smirked evilly at him, taking the chance to tease and embarrass the heck out of him.

“Yes I can!” Misaki protested, not noticing that a ring of people had circled the pair and that music was just starting.

“Show me.”

And I have never seen that dress you’re wearing, Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes, I have been blind;

Chu. Misaki slid his hands over Fushimi’s shoulders, taking the ‘women’ part of the simple dance. The blue put his hands on the shorter’s hips, pulling them closer. The couple started to sway softly.

Fushimi glanced around to see most of the blues frozen in surprise while the reds were clapping softly. A blush across his cheeks and he looked down. Well. I’m getting a talking to soon. He kept his eyes fixated on the ground.

The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek, There’s nobody here, it’s just you and me, It’s where I want to be, But I hardly know this beauty by my side, I’ll never forget the way you look tonight;

“Embarrassed monkey?” Misaki pressed closer, trying to tease back.

Fushimi shook his head. “No I’m not.” which was clearly a lie since his face was red.

“Show me then.”

I’ve never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight, I’ve never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing, I’ve never seen so many people want to be there by your side,

Fushimi rolled his eyes as he planted a small kiss on the tip of Misaki’s nose, the back of his neck red from embarrassment. Crows of awes came from the crowd around them. For once in his whole life, Fushimi was a blushing mess, he was redder than the first time he had confessed that he really loved Misaki.

Meanwhile, Misaki had decided to shove his face into Fushimi’s shirt, hiding his own full on blush. "I’m going to kill you once we get home dìckhead.” He muttered into the button up shirt.

And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away, And I have never had such a feeling, Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight;

“SNOWBALL” was called but the couple didn’t move, still stuck in this state. After a moment of silence (except for the music), Fushimi pried himself from Misaki’s death grip and whispered. “Find someone to dance with then kill me.” He turned on his heel and headed to the closest person to him, not even paying attention until he came face to face with Munakata.

He gave a slick grin and grabbed Fushimi’s hips without hesitation, moving them closer to the middle of the circle. Saru tripped over his feet a few times but managed to steady himself once he had his hands on the president’s shoulders.

Munakata being Munakata got really close to Fushimi. He smirked and whispered. “Did you like that picture you got? You and Yata need to find better places to sneak off to.”

Horror crossed the younger’s face. Has anyone else seen this. I will kill them if they did. “So you were the one who pick us for the snowball.”

Munakata chuckled and shook his head. “No. I didn’t. I only took the photo.”

“SNOWBALL” Fushimi gratefully broke apart from his class president in search to find Yata again. Hopefully he didn’t pass out from embarrassment.

He soon found his boyfriend on the far side of the room with his arms around Mikoto’s neck. A rush of jealousy sparked and Fushimi took a few steps forward when Anna blocked his path. “Fushimi-kun. Can you dance with me? I asked Mikoto to dance with Misaki so…”

Fushimi glanced at his red faced boyfriend then back at Anna and let out a sigh. “Alright.” He gently put his hands on her waist and she slipped her pale hands on his shoulders.

I never will forget the way you look tonight. The lady in red, the lady in red, The lady in red, my lady in red,

I love you

“Saru! Where are we going?” Yata was being tugged along behind Fushimi by the wrist. His drink sloshed around in his cup as he was pulled.

“Just outside.” He pushed open the doors and pulled him over to the side around a corner.

Yata looked at him with wide eyes. “OI! What are you doing?”

He just gave his boyfriend a look like ‘chill already’ and pulled the letter out of his jacket. “Do you know who picked us for the snowball?”

“No?” Yata took the letter and read it over quickly. “Why do you ask?”

Tsk. “Just reasons. Ok?” He clicked his tongue and put the letter away. He glanced down at his boyfriend. “Huh?” Yata grabbed at his boyfriend’s jacket and pulled out the photo. Fushimi instantly blushed pink, failing to hide his composer.

Yata practically fainted. His whole face flushed red and the photo nearly fell out of his hands due to shaking. “Wha- wha-… Why…. What is - this!” He cried throwing the photo at him.

“That’s why I asked if you knew the sender. Munakata took the photo but he wasn’t the one who sent the letter,” he sighed, quite use to seeing Yata freak out over this kind of thing.

“B-but does …. anyone else know- about us k-ki-kis-”

“No Misaki. Not that I’m aware of.” He cut him off and looked down at the picture.

It was quickly recognizable. It was a few months ago at the annual school fair. The class presidents had come up with a theme for their classes. Scepter 4 was forced to wear blue uniforms while Homra had to look like tungs (Yata won’t admit that they are pretty much tungs anyways). And in the picture they were…. Well pretty much making out fiercely behind one of the school buildings. Yata was on Fushimi’s lap grinding softly on his boyfriend while Fushimi attacked his mouth.

Hm…. Misaki never did say why he practically pushed me to the ground and sucked off my face….. A smirk grew on his lips and he bent to be nose to nose with his boyfriend. “Mi~sa~ki~ Why did you start kissing me then at the fair?”

“Wha..?!” He fell down onto his butt. His face was as red as a tomato. “N-no reason!” He squeaked out.

“There is a reason~” Fushimi devilishly dropped to the ground, almost on top of him. Just to tease him. Yata hid his face in his hands, he whimpered and stayed silent for a moment, copulating what would happened to his pride before answering. He finally gave up after a moment.

“You look s-se-sexy in that uni-… uniform…”

The smirk widened if that was even possible. “Oh? I do? Maybe I should wear it more often.” yes. I should. Misaki never gives me attention like that time. It would be a nice change once in awhile. He thought.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded, pulling his hands away from his face to look up at his boyfriend. Fushimi quickly pushed his lips against Yata’s, not even giving him a moment to push away as he forced his tongue into his mouth. Surprising, Yata let him in without hesitation. He fought for dominance in the kiss with more fury than usual. Usually he backs off and let’s Fushimi take over because he will win anyways but this forcefulness makes Fushimi more excited than most of their kisses.

“Uh…. Yata? Can I- oh!”

Fushimi broke the kiss and looked up to see Eric standing there, his face red and wide eyes of surpass. Shit. Fushimi crawled off of his boyfriend and stood up. Pretending nothing happened, he slipped the photo back into his pocket and helped Yata up. “What?” The redhead snapped, obvious upset about not finishing the kiss or just trying to cover up his embarrassment.

Eric itched the back of his neck and gave Fushimi a side glance before opening his mouth. “I-I…. Um…. C-can I ask you something?”

“Ok?”

“Do you l-like it when he-” he took a deep break before hurriedly finishing his sentence. “-he is inside you”

“WHAT IS A KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?!” Yata cried out.

Fushimi chuckled. “You better answer that question Mi~Sa~Ki~”

“Stop calling me that!” He growled defensively. “I’ll answer if you go away”

“Fine” He shrugged and went a little ways, just enough so he could hear but for them not to know that he was listening.

#fanfic: mine #oneshot #sarumifest2016 #k project #sarumi #Dancing With A Monkey

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