#yata's original eye color was AMAZING

[waywardsan]

Yata from K:MoR in color (I would say one of my favorite K manga art styles, but they're all pretty good)

[itsuki-minamy]

“KEBAB SPECIAL TOTSUKA”

* Mini Episodes KFCN (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Totsuka Tatara started selling doner kebab at a street food stall, because his friend Murat Uchan from Turkey exacerbated his chronic back pain.

"Tatara-san. I'm sorry, but could you take over the shop for about two weeks?"

Before moving to Shizume, Uchan-san, who has been in Osaka for 10 years, consulted with Totsuka, and when he asked about it, he said "Yes, it's okay." and he took it easy. Totsuka immediately drove Uchan-san's mobile kitchen vehicle from the next day to open the shop.

From the preparation of the lamb for the kebabs to the operation, he does everything himself and makes a certain amount of operating profit, although he is not as good as Uchan-san. No matter how much experience he had working part-time, he helped Uchan-san's mobile shop several times in advance, but his culinary skills and managerial sense were far from amateurish.

However, after the first day, Totsuka Tatara's face (albeit smiling as usual) didn't look very happy. Thoughtfully he crossed his arms and devised some plans in his head.

And starting the next day he made some changes in the business style. Of course, with the permission of the Uchan-san.

First, he changed the taste of the kebab. Originally, Uchan-san, who has lived in Japan for a long time, added the Hatcho Miso to the hidden flavor and fixed it for the Japanese, but brought it back to a more ethnic and authentic flavor. There are many foreigners in Shizume and a wide variety of restaurants is thriving, so it was decided that it would be easier to accept.

In addition, the location of the business was moved from the front of the station to the plaza. He makes the most of personal connections, prepare nice chairs, tables and umbrellas, and create an environment where you can eat immediately after taking out. He also changes the paper to a more colorful, modern and more "shiny" one. As a result, the number of clients, mainly young women, increased significantly.

About two days before Uchan-san returned, Totsuka just couldn't go to the store and started hiring Yata as a temporary part-time job.

And his prosperity caught the attention of the lord of the square.

"It's annoying, you…"

At night, a burly man wearing an eye patch appeared in front of Totsuka and Yata, who were preparing to remove the shop, lifted his head neatly, and it was amazing.

"Ah? Who are you?"

Yata, who was not so scared, stood in front of the big man without making a difference in height and ignited the weapon.

"Is he a gangster on the floor? It was a shame if he could get it even for the shoba fee. I'm making a mistake."

"Yata. That person is different. That person is not a gangster."

Totsuka laughed and stepped between the two.

"He is the owner of the 'Man's Innocence'. You see, he is a ramen stand that he opened in front of the fountain."

In addition to the Totsuka kebabs, there are several street vendors operating in this square. Totsuka successfully obtained a business license from the square administration office, and politely greeted each shop, who are his sempais, on the first day. And now, while the owner of the "innocence of man" was standing in front of them...

"Oh, good luck at best."

He raised his voice saying that.

"Did we do something that bothers you?"

When Totsuka asked with a smile,

"No, not really."

The great man finally laughed.

"Suddenly you got sick, so I wonder if you'll be open elsewhere from tomorrow."

(Totsuka-san.)

Yata hid his voice from him and listened.

(This guy has been flirting with us because our kebabs have increased in sales.)

He knew Totsuka and so on.

"What if I say no?"

When Yata screamed and provoked,

"That's right. I don't care... I wonder if an unfortunate accident might happen to him."

The big man spread his hands playfully. He flicked his finger to the side and stuck out his tongue like a villain. Totsuka sighed a little.

"I understand your purpose. So why not do this? Tomorrow, we will compete with the sales of others. And if we lose, we will leave here. How about that?"

"Hmm... okay? Don't you know I've been the number one salesperson in the area for the past few years?"

"Oh. Instead, if we win, can you change the name of your stand, the 'Loser Dog Ramen'? The 'Man's Innocence' sign was always annoying."

Totsuka spat venom as he smiled. He seems mild-mannered, and he is one of Homura's executives, but in an emergency, he will cut off that image. Yata whistled. When the big man frowned...

"You will swallow your words!"

He left that place with abrupt steps. Totsuka and Yata looked at each other and laughed.

Originally, he only came to this plaza temporarily to facilitate Totsuka to do so, and a few days later, if he returned the traveling shop to Uchan-san, the place of business would simply return to the front of the station as before, so, to be honestly, he deliberately bothered to compete in sales, etc. It doesn't make much sense to do it. However, he was willing to accept such threatening words.

"Well, I want to pop a bubble."

That was the case with Totsuka. And Yata also strongly agreed.

The next day, the day of the decisive battle. The sky was clear. As it was a holiday, there were a lot of people. As a rule of the square, the business hours of the stalls are established from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. During that time, the game was how many sales could be increased.

A bowl of ramen costs 600 yen. The kebab costs 500 yen. There is not much difference in price, so simply the number sold will be the game.

The ramen preceded a bit in the morning, but the kebabs gradually started to come off around noon.

"It's amazing! Totsuka-san!"

Yata, who was rushing to cut the meat while he was sweating on his forehead, said that. After wrapping the kebab and handing it to the customer with a smile, Totsuka replied.

"Hey. I advertised a lot."

Totsuka knows everything about this city. How many people are there, in what time zone, and in what age group. Akagi and Bando, who are not at this location, were allowed to distribute promotional brochures at key points in Shizume.

He has also opened a SNS account on behalf of Uchan-san, who had been indifferent to such things for about a week. The announcement there was gradually beginning to take effect.

After fourteen, the victory of the kebab seemed certain...

"Well, isn't it strange?"

Yata asked a question. He was really interested in Totsuka. On the ramen side, the customer base had started to change.

"Man's Innocence" usually had five seats, but today, towards a special eight-seat chair and table around the booth, it was uncomfortable to see all of them, similar, it was occupied by men with a pleasant atmosphere.

They never get up from their seats after eating a bowl of ramen and continue to eat two or three bowls on the spot. Some people look at this and grin or strike a provocative pose.

Then, when he noticed Totsuka's eyes, the owner of "Man's Innocence" crossed his arms behind the counter and smiled a triumphant smile.

Totsuka coughed in a dazed and slightly amused tone.

"I see. Is it a strategy to fill all the seats with your relatives and just replace them no matter if they pretend to be?"

Yata shook his body in anger and clenched his fist.

"Damn."

"Totsuka-san, are you silent?"

Yata said that with the intention of "Let's go hit him." Totsuka scratched his head.

"Hmm. In the beginning, I didn't have any special arrangement to forbid that sort of thing."

To be honest, it is not a violation of the rules. Yata made a plaintive voice.

"Damn."

At that moment, the sight in Totsuka's eyes jumped and he smiled.

"Well, it seems we also have a god of salvation."

Yata also followed Totsuka's line of sight and raised his voice in joy.

"Kamamoto!"

It was Rikio Kamamoto who calmly appeared at the scene.

"What? I heard it from Shohei and the others. If you have a food store, give me a call."

"Eat all you want."

Totsuka immediately told Yata to start preparing more kebab.

In the end, "Man's Innocence" dug his grave by his own strategy. Few strong young men can continue to eat three or four cups of ramen, but Kamamoto is like a kebab. Like sushi and sandwiches, he tossed them into his mouth and ate one after another.

The owner of "Man's Innocence" finished with only an hour left until the closing of the store. When he walked to the front of Totsuka, he took off the headband that was wrapped around his head and took it, tilting his head as he held it in front of his body.

"Well, I give up. It may be unpleasant though, but can you forgive me for changing the signboard?"

Totsuka and Yata looked at each other and smiled.

"Now…"

"That I have to do?"

They were a bit mean and wanted to do it.

"Well, don't raise your head anymore. We won, but you don't have to change the signboard."

"Oh, yeah. At first, we weren't serious either. Oh! Were we the only ones who won?"

Suddenly, the two of them ran out and urged the owner of "Man's Innocence" to raise his head. The owner moistened his eyes.

"Oh, you are a good guy."

He was impressed. However, Totsuka and Yata knew it. Kamamoto, who enjoyed the kebab to the bottom of his heart, made his way towards "Man's Innocence" as he tossed his stomach to change his mood.

Eventually the game was abandoned and Totsuka successfully completed the period entrusted to him and returned the kebab stand to Uchan-san.

Both Totsuka and Yata made a lot of money, but it must have been Kamamoto, who was able to eat delicious food from the bottom of his heart, at the level of once a year or not, who was more satisfied than anyone else.

[chilly-territory]

K ~ Four Seasons of K: Become a Star

July’s story features Anna, Kuroh and Neko, with a brief cameo by Kusanagi.

The original Japanese text is still kindly provided by blueseraphima

Become a Star by Raikaku Rei

Those who died become stars and watch over you from up above.

Someone tried to comfort Anna by telling her that when her parents died.

Anna was only 6 at the time, but she already knew that dead people couldn't turn into stars. Stars were stars, and they were there long before someone went and passed away, existing irrespective of people's life and death.

From when she was a very young child, Anna, gifted with an empathic superability, was way more knowledgeable about the world than your average kid had any right to be, and she had no innocence required to believe the pretty but empty words of comfort said to her.

*

"Let's go gaze at stars!" declared Neko with her big almond-shaped eyes sparkling when she dropped by bar HOMRA.

Anna tilted her head to the side a little. "Stars?"

"Kurosuke said you can see lots of stars from his village, and they're really pretty! So we decided to go there for Tanabata and stargaze! But Shiro is busy grading end-of-term tests or something, so he said for the two of us to go on our own, but it'll be so boring with just Kurosuke, so I came to invite you along with us, Anna! Eheh!" Neko threw out her chest with pride at her great idea.

Anna blinked a few times, then slowly shifted her gaze to Kusanagi behind the counter.

Kusanagi gave her a little wry smile, not stopping his hands polishing a glass. "Well, if Yatougami-kun is coming, then I don't imagine there will be any danger to you even at night, so if you want to go, Anna, you should."

Neko would drop by bar HOMRA every so often, whether her objective was Kusanagi's snacks (the pervy glasses' snacks were all glittery and the type she'd want to eat from time to time, as she put it, while Kurosuke's were the type she'd eat every day) or she just genuinely wanted to see Anna. Every time Neko came, Kusanagi, his face reading 'oh well, can't be helped', would smile and take snack requests. Even Yata, who at first never failed to look annoyed askance along the lines of 'why the hell is she here again!', got used to it and even started greeting her with simple interjections like 'Hey' or 'Sup'. He had trouble dealing with females, but it appeared that he had learned not to be overly conscious of Neko being a girl, treating her as something of an oft-visiting stray cat so long as she didn't start stripping in the bar or taking off her panties and forgetting them in the bathroom.

To Anna, Neko was a girl who, despite being technically slightly older, didn't really feel older. But Anna had no experience with being invited to hang out with other girls to draw on in the first place.

Anna, gazing into Neko’s pure, sparkling eyes with no sliver of agenda behind them, finally gave a small nod.

The prospect of going out at night was exciting.

Neko and Kuroh were supposed to come pick her up at dusk, so Anna had finished her preparations before then. For a change of pace, she braided her hair and put the thermos and the snacks she had Kusanagi make for the three of them into her bag.

"Anna! We came for you!" Neko entered the bar, boisterous as ever and sporting the same braided hairstyle as Anna, mysteriously enough. Perhaps she wanted to look different, too? Seeing Anna, she exclaimed, "Oh, we match!" and brandished her own pigtails, grinning widely. "Shiro braided my hair for me."

Anna, watching the happily grinning Neko, showed a smile of her own and complimented her look, "It looks good on you".

"Well then, as of now, I take Kushina Anna under my care and promise to keep her safe and sound." Kuroh, who quietly entered the bar behind Neko, walked up to the counter and bowed to Kasanagi from the waist with all seriousness. "Yes, yes, I'm counting on you. Call me if something happens," Kusanagi waved his hand lightly, and Anna exited the bar after Kuroh and Neko.

On the train on the way to their destination, they ate a bento that Kuroh made.

"The triangular onigiri are with plum filling, the round ones with salmon, and the rectangular ones are filled with grilled walleye pollack roe." "I want salmon~!"

Swaying in their box seats, they chewed on the onigiri that Kuroh made.

The triangular one that Anna chose had just enough firmness to deliciously crumble in her mouth, letting red pickled plum out and making Anna smile.

"I apologize for Neko suddenly coming and inviting you on such short notice," Kuroh smiled at Anna. "No," Anna shook her head. "I was happy that Neko invited me. The place we're going to is your old home, Kuroh?"

Kuroh smiled broader and nodded. His old home must be the place where Miwa Ichigen, the late Seventh King, lived.

"Stars you can see from that village make an amazing sight. Besides, I was thinking it was about time for me to visit Ichigen-sama's grave either way. After we stargaze tonight, we will stay at Ichigen-sama's house for the night, and tomorrow, after I have paid respect to his grave, I will go greet the villagers, while you two can play together for the time being." "Grave..."

Now that she thought about it, Anna hardly ever got to visit her parents' graves. Cold-hearted as it may look, Anna had no religious faith and, like with her educated conviction that dead people didn't turn into stars, didn't feel a need for graves. But the way Kuroh treasured Ichigen's grave and the village where he lived with the Seventh King so dearly looked very beautiful to her eyes.

*

In the village where Kuroh grew up, a modest celebration of Tanabata was being held, with big decorated bamboo and paper lanterns in sight.

The Miwa house was situated on the edge of the town, on the side of the mountain. Guided by Kuroh, Anna and Neko were making their way up on an unpaved hill road, holding hands.

Before long, a one-story house surrounded by a wooden fence came into view. The Miwa house, no doubt, but the group went past it, continuing on their way up. When the already sparsely lined up poles of street lights disappeared completely, Kuroh took out a flashlight.

Neko appeared to have good night vision, confidently walking in the dark, and Anna squeezed her hand harder. The temperature of Neko's hand was a little higher than Anna's.

When they reached a small clearing on the mountainside where you could hear the sound of running water, hinting at a waterfall possibly being nearby, Kuroh stopped.

"Here should be good." Producing a big picnic sheet out of his luggage, he spread it on the ground, "Lie down on it and look above you."

Anna settled down on the sheet face up next to Neko. "Wow..." "So many stars~!"

In the dark and with absence of light in vicinity, the starry sky up above made a picturesque view.

"This is my first time seeing the Milky Way..." Anna whispered quietly, gazing up at the sky.

Countless small stars cut across the night sky like a river of light. And on the two opposite shores of it, two stars shone especially bright. They were Vega and Altair. Gazing at the great expanse of the sky full of stars that was impossible to see in Tokyo, Anna let out a breathless sigh.

To Anna, only the red color was visible. Although she tried to avoid having a hangup about it, but when she thought that there probably was little difference between how this magnificent view of mixed darkness and pure light appeared to her and to Neko and Kuroh, she felt just a little bit happier.

Neko at first couldn't contain her joy, chattering away excitedly, but soon she quieted down. Suspecting that she might have fallen asleep, Anna peeked at the girl lying next to her, but surprisingly, Neko's big eyes were wide open, their gaze directed at the sky above.

"Dead people become stars. Someone told me that long ago. ...Although I don't remember who it was."

Anna's eyes widened in surprise when she heard Neko's quiet voice that she didn't know Neko was capable of. It apparently surprised Kuroh as well, as he rose up on his elbow.

Neko, looking much younger than Anna and as innocent as a newborn infant, cocked her head to the side, "I wonder if it's true?"

Anna was lost for words, just gazing at Neko's profile until a quiet click resounded, like some kind of switch turned on.

'Feelings lighting up your heart will become stars,' a deep voice recited what sounded like a haiku, coming from Kuroh's recorder - the recorder that contained records of Kuroh's mentor, Miwa Ichigen.

Kuroh smiled gently.

"If you ask me, if someone gazes at the stars in the sky, remembering a person who passed away, that's when the late person turns into a star," he said, tone serene. "I believe that Ichigen-sama can be found in the stars twinkling in the sky, and in this recorder, and in the wind that blows when I lose my way, and in the first rays of the morning sun I bask in... he's always there for me."

Anna knew that dead people didn't become stars. Stars were stars, and they were there long before someone went and passed away, existing irrespective of people's life and death. But like she believed that Mikoto's red and Tatara's memories were alive in her heart supporting her, maybe dead people could become stars when someone looked up thinking of them.

"Hmmm," Neko made a non-committal noise. She didn't appear to be feeling about the whole deal very strongly, the expression on her face really reminding that of a child.

Anna lightly clutched at the hand of the sprawling Neko next to her. Neko returned the gesture, clasping her hand in turn. The red-eyed girl felt a tender feeling spreading from their interlinked hands. She also sensed that to Neko, pretty things were just that, pretty. And that Neko was becoming slightly sleepy. Neko was honest and true to herself like that.

There was a time when Anna, through her empathic superability, felt Neko's past. Neko had a lot of sadness and loneliness inside, but also just as much joy, fun, and affection. Neko was a person who lost a lot. And so did her companions, Kuroh and Shiro. They had been through a lot of sadness and loneliness, and it's because they intimately knew those that they valued and loved things they had at the moment.

"Neko." "Meow?" "It's pretty." "Yup. But I'm getting sleepy." "Neko." "Mew-mew?" "Thank you for inviting me along."

Stars were stars. But they reflected the feelings of those who gazed at them.

Still clasping her friend's hand, Anna squinted as she took in the whole expanse of the starry sky above.

[its-love-u-asshole]

Shaking in My Skull [Ch. 9]

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: The last update will come tomorrow! Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over <3

Ao3 Version

8tracks

The first thing Yata had done was cry, in fact sometimes he still did.

Standing there on the bridge, back to life, taking in all the forgotten sounds and smells of the world, he'd cried.

He could feel Saruhiko on his skin, his palm in his hand, but he wasn't there. The warmth, the connection, it had been severed so harshly, and all Yata could do was run from the bridge, barging into his modest apartment and collapsing again at the sight of his unfinished canvases and projects. The tears seemed never ending on the first night.

He felt awful and light all at once, because yes, it's all here, I'm back, but Saruhiko was not. Somewhere else in the city, his friends were getting the news of his passing, were dealing with the grief Yata had barely caught a glimpse of. He knew their pain now. Losing Saruhiko, caring about him so much...

But how would he be able to explain that to them? He couldn't. As far as anyone else knew, he and Saruhiko were strangers. It was like a roundhouse kick to the stomach.

As if the universe was adding salt to his wound, his phone had pinged shortly after he'd arrived home.

Kusanagi: Yata, the dinner tomorrow is cancelled. I can't talk now but, Seri's friend was in an accident. He didn't make it. I'll talk to you and the boys more when I can.

Didn't make it. Yeah, you have no idea. Somehow, hearing someone else tell him made him feel so much more helpless. He couldn't imagine how Saruhiko felt, and wished he could comfort him in any shape or form.

But it wasn't possible. They were separated now, would be for the rest of time. It wasn't fair.

Saruhiko, he'd done so much, tried so hard.

"Fuck that," Yata whispered into the silence of his apartment, hating how dull the colors of his paintings seemed now, how generic the images. They weren't what he felt at all, didn't even come close to capturing true fear, true desperation or longing.

Adoration.

Yata swallowed the bile in his throat, dragging himself to his crappy bed, and refusing to take note of how it was so much better than rocks and dirt. It didn't feel right.

He fell asleep easily, exhausted and fed up, but his sleep was restless, plagued by visions of trials and Saruhiko. He'd holed himself up for three days, staring at the ceiling and deciding what to do next.

That was the only thing he could do, move on. Move forward. It was what he'd promised himself he'd do, at the very beginning of his journey. To back down now would be an insult to everything he and Saruhiko had gone through. He wouldn't let the other down.

So, on the fourth day, he'd picked himself up out of bed, and made way into his living room, tossing out a good portion of his paintings. They didn't feel like him anymore. His fingers itched to dig into his paints, to expel his emotions into true representations of himself, but he had to wait. There were other things he had yet to do before he got lost in his work.

Yata hadn't been ready to face the guys right away, as much as he'd missed them. He needed time to adjust, to reign in his emotions. He turned down their invites to movies and dinners, and no one questioned it much, since everyone was more concerned with Kusanagi's situation. Yata didn't think he'd be able to stomach it, having everyone offering condolences, while Yata knew how hard Saruhiko had tried to come back.

Avoiding Kusanagi himself was fairly easy. He was busy pushing back wedding plans, and comforting his fiancé. Yata almost felt guilty, but in the face of everything else, it was the least of his worries. He was of no use to his friend anyways until he got himself together. Once he did that, he'd offer all the help in the world.

Slowly, he was picking himself up.

At the end of the second week, he finally did what he'd always wanted to, ever since reciting the contract in the afterlife.

He went to see his mom.

--

He heard a muffled 'be right there!' through the door, and the light scurry of footsteps before his mother appeared in front of him, fiery eyes catching in the warm sunlight of the day. Her calm expression quickly morphed into one of confusion, then surprise, before finally settling on immense, blinding joy. It was then that Yata broke, and it all hit him again—just when he thought he could handle this. How had he been away for so long?

He fell into her arms in the entryway of the house, barely managing to sob out an apology as she yelped in shock. She smelled like detergent and fresh spices, evoking the memories of his childhood which he'd neglected for so long. He'd missed her, he'd missed her so much.

"M-Misaki! What are yo--"

"I missed you mom, I'm...so much has...I'm sorry, I," he choked the words out, snuggling further into her, like he'd done as a kid, sure his mom could protect him from all the world's real problems. "I n-needed to come home."

She stiffened for but a moment before her muscles relaxed, her arms coming up without question to cradle him tightly.

In that moment, it had all been worth it. All the struggle and all the nightmares, all for this. All for his mother smoothing her hands over his back, and whispering sweetly until he calmed down.

Yata lost track of how many times he apologized for not visiting more, for not coming back, for not calling, and all the while she listened, silent until he was all talked out and drained from crying.

Of course she'd be upset that he was barely apologizing now, how could she not? He'd been away for so long, seldom reached out to her despite all she'd done for him. He deserved any harsh words she had to offer, and coldness or resentment. He knew it was her right, but he'd make it up to her in whatever way he could, he'd--

She chuckled, kissing his forehead as if nothing had changed, and Yata's breath caught in his throat as she said the words he'd been longing to hear, shattering the last of his guilt. "Oh Misaki, there is nothing to forgive," she whispered, voice giving away her beaming smile. "You can always come home."

And really, if only for that second, he felt invincible again, though his voice was barely a whisper. "I will Mom, I promise."

Though he couldn't do much more other than return her hug in a vice grip, somewhere in the back of his mind, Yata resolved to tell her everything someday, about Saruhiko, about all he'd endured.

But for now he kept her close, and eagerly awaited the sound of footsteps as his siblings emerged from their rooms, welcoming him home for by no means the last time.

--

By the end of the second month, he was picking himself up more and more. It had taken a lot for him to realize it, but of course, though Saruhiko was gone, Yata knew not all was lost.

His gallery showing was moved until a later date, the owners being sympathetic to his explanation of a loved one passing, and it gave him more time to focus on creating new works which satisfied him. There was no rush now, the owners had liked him so much in person, they'd given him the green light to contact him whenever he was ready.

It was nice, not working under a time restriction. The paintings which remained from before his time in the afterlife he'd decided to sell, and they'd gotten him enough to get by for a while, along with money from his part time job.

Yata saw his friends as much as possible, never stopped letting them know how much he appreciated them. They made fun of him now for being too sentimental, but oh well. He helped Kusanagi too, though it was hard, and after so many months, the wedding planning was back on. Meeting Saruhiko's friends...had been devastating, but he'd controlled himself throughout the dinner, allowing himself to cry when he was back home alone.

They seemed to be doing alright, but he could see the notable emptiness in their eyes, because it was the same kind he felt, deep in his soul.

Nevertheless, things moved on, and he never stopped thinking of Saruhiko, with each new endeavor. He was taking it slow, readjusting to life, and for once, it felt amazing. But the empty spot in his life would remain forever, one he couldn't fill, where someone else should've been.

Replacing Saruhiko was impossible too, that much he knew.

Despite the missing piece, Yata was happy. He was doing well, better than ever. His paintings, the ones which he worked on in his free time, hadn't suffered along with his heart. If anything, he was finally pleased with them, no matter how somber some of them turned out. Yata had learned more about himself on the journey than he ever felt possible, and now he could communicate that while doing what he loved. He also found himself painting a lot of night landscapes, abstract shapes with shadows and rich blues, all his secret tributes to Saruhiko.

Sometimes it got to be too much, painting with the other in mind. Yata missed him, wanted to kiss and hold him, and the yearning would tear him apart at times. On a particularly bad night, he'd nearly tossed all shades of blue in the garbage, his heart aching.

But no, Saruhiko was alive in his work, and it was everything to Yata, that last thread which linked them together. So he continued, creating art inspired by his family and friends, as well as the one he'd hold dear until the end of time.

Sometimes, he wondered if Saruhiko would like his pieces, if he'd be able to recognize the overwhelming love behind them. The sketches of the taller, all fine boned and charcoal, he kept hidden in a drawer, only to be seen by his eyes. Nothing beat looking at the original though.

Yes, he'd put himself back together nicely, he was happy with the direction he was going in, knew it would all work out. In a way he was thankful for the Return, without it, he didn't know if he'd appreciate everything as he did now. That being said, he'd never want to do it again, nor would he wish it on someone else. It was simply too cruel, with a near perfect guarantee of failure. He still dreamt of it, woke up drenched in sweat and breathing harshly. How he'd managed to make it out, he didn't know. But he had. He had come through, beaten the odds.

And yet, Yata would've given anything to have Saruhiko back with him.

--

Six months later, and this would be the last time he would be here. Yata stood on the freshly mowed grass, staring at the stone with fresh orchids laid down in front of it.

Sapphire, like his eyes.

He kicked at the dirt, willing his heart to calm down.

Initially, he'd made a habit of visiting the other's grave site, making sure none of Saruhiko's friends would be there and question him. They didn't know each other after all. What a damn joke.

Yata laughed to himself. It had seemed like a good idea at the start; Yata had hoped it would make him feel closer to the other, in some way, being there where Saruhiko was buried.

But visiting Saruhiko's grave hadn't felt right, seemed heavier and heavier with each occasion. Because he knew it meant nothing, Saruhiko couldn't see him, couldn't hear him. Nothing was below the dirt except the shell of the one who'd risked his life with Yata, who Yata had protected and come to love. 

Standing there, in front of his boring tombstone, was not something Saruhiko would've wanted.

And so, Yata decided to stop. After today, he would never come back.

He would carry Saruhiko with him instead, no matter how painful the ache, and hoped that Saruhiko would think of him too as he sat in hell, alone. Maybe it would help to get him through it, until Yata could see him again. Yata would give up heaven, if it meant being with the other again at the end of his life. Regardless of if he'd suffer, he would forfeit.

Part of him knew Saruhiko wouldn't care for that either, would probably call him impulsive and unthinking, and it made Yata smile more than anything.

The tears stung, but he kept them behind his eyes. It was time to go. No more crying.

However, as all the noble thoughts crossed his mind, he couldn't help but feel something uncertain in the air around him, as if the fading landscape of the cemetery knew something he did not.

--

The swirling wind, no matter how eerie, was somewhat of a comfort now.

Or, perhaps it was to be a sound of mockery, the last thing he heard before...

Saruhiko took one more step, all he could manage, and then he was falling to his knees, his soles worn and muscles giving out. That was to say nothing of the broken bones he was undoubtedly sporting.

This, this was what he had been avoiding. For him to succumb to exhaustion, for him to be lesser. Sand hit his face, and as much as it stung, it kept him awake. For how long, he wasn't sure.

Dammit, he thought weakly, the energy behind any form of frustration having left him long ago.

Long ago...

As if to emphasize the observation, he dug his gnarled fingers into the sand below him, eyes peering around the vastness of the final stretch of the journey. Unless it was all a cruel joke, then he had done it, hadn't he? He nearly whimpered from the possibility that he hadn't. But..from the looks of it...

He was at the end again, the gate was...where was...

Saruhiko's eyes were painful to blink, so dried out and strained, he wondered how much longer he could keep them open. How much longer until he was blind...

The glasses he'd been given, well, they'd fallen off some time ago, in the midst of the second trial...possibly...he couldn't remember. But he remembered screeches of something, blended with the feelings of being buried alive and...and...

He shuddered, the dates and times running through his head. Nagare...

Slowly, he began to crawl forward, the voices still pestering him of the things he wouldn't be allowed to forget. He missed Misaki's arms around him so much in that moment.

It had all been too much, more than the first time, or so it seemed. Maybe it was because he was alone this time. His lungs protested from all the running, from the fumes of smoke and dirt, each breath a wheeze as he struggled to move. The initial trial had been both physical and mental, a maze of iron and mist, each dead end joined with a memory of his life, of a mistake or moment he’d taken for granted. How he’d made it out of that one, he wasn’t sure.

If he thought the whispers were bad the first time, it was nothing compared to that maze, the noises deafening and inflicted twice as painfully, because they were extracted right from his memories, taking advantage of the things he now allowed himself to feel.

The second trial, after he’d wandered aimlessly from the first, made him fucking swim. He had to swim through what appeared to be a never-ending sea, a sword by his side (a pity gift from Munakata once more), facing creatures which made the graveyard beast look tame. But honestly, it wasn’t the most grueling part, no, moving…swimming was hardest. Saruhiko had learned to perform the task some time ago, but he was never proficient at it, more like a child with his weak strokes and poor breathing. Water invaded his lungs more times than he could count during the challenge, the release of death never coming, because he was already lost in the afterlife. When he dared to breach the surface of the water for air, he was dragged back down by the beasts, his respite never fulfilling. It was like that, all the way until he reached the entrance to Nagare’s caves.

He was exhausted.

Maybe if he just sat still for a while, if he could rest for but a second...

He lurched himself forward, muffling his shout as his body protested, the dried blood making the movements stiffer.

No, don't you dare stop.

He bit his lip something fierce, willing himself forward at a snail’s pace, but moving regardless. Don't stop.

That was the trap, wasn't it? He understood it now, why so many had fallen right before reaching the end. It took its toll on the individual, with no one there to motivate them, at least...no one in their right mind. How on earth had he and Misaki managed it? Making it so far, keeping sane while doing it? Having enough energy to walk upright? His mind spun with visions of mockery and whispers which he couldn't distinguish from his imagination or reality, flashes of memories and the surges of doubt which had finally come back to deplete his strength.

Right at the end. Right where it counted most.

Keep going. Don't think about useless things.

Though it was hard not to, wasn't it? A perfectly practical reaction. If he failed here...to do it again a third time...it was unthinkable. Yet, he'd probably do it. He'd been such a fool, taking up the challenge knowing what it entailed, but he didn't find himself regretting it. Though, it was obvious everyone else had done the pitiful thinking for him this time...

Totsuka's face had been solemn, but not surprised. Saruhiko had been greeted amicably, but he didn't have any questions for the other man this time around. He knew what to do, what he needed to do. Totsuka had led him silently, with purpose, and the last thing he'd given Saruhiko was a cryptic smile and a nod of respect, bright eyes sad with something Saruhiko couldn't pinpoint. And then once again, he was gone, and his air of solidarity which Saruhiko didn't know what to do with was the only thing left of him.

Time slipped away after that. He had no way of knowing how long he'd been going, just that it might as well have been eternity.

By the time the caves had opened up to him, after ages of traveling and strife, he hadn't bothered going to see Douhan. He figured there was no point, seeing her green eyes light up in either surprise or skepticism. Perhaps part of him wanted to keep his endeavor private, the guilt of failure sitting heavy on his shoulders. But it hadn't mattered, she'd been waiting for him instead, seated upon a rock with a familiar bird.

No words were spoken, but he more or less appreciated it when she reached up into her hair and untangled her bow, which he finally noted was made of a gray and golden fleece, expensive...

She tied it around his hand, which had a nasty looking gash across it, and made sure it held. Then, a curt bow, and he was being led away, watching her disappear as he followed the soft beat of wings.

It only took him a few moments of remembering her fond stare as she tended to the wound, to realize it was her significant item. And she'd given it away, so easily.

In his head, he made a note to return it to her, sometime far in the future.

By then his mind was fragile enough, the beatings he'd taken were excruciating, and yet he took no relief in knowing the most physical trials were over. There were worse things. And well, when it had finally come to Nagare once more, the theory had proved true.

Nagare's eyes had reflected displeasure along with conflict, but this time, he hadn't been alone.

"Dang, you sure are stupid huh?" The child's pale, messy hair obscured his eyes, unhindered by the two white clips fastened to the side of it. His light green eyes reflected confusion and annoyance, his skin and posture the very essence of youthfulness as he criticized Saruhiko. "Doing this again, you're making it harder for--"

"Gojo, thank you for your help, but I don't think words will have much effect on Fushimi-san at this point," Nagare interrupted fondly, and the boy blinked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry, but would you excuse us? You should calm Yukari down anyways, wherever he is."

The respect and patience Nagare gave the other was mildly astonishing, but by then, Saruhiko was too weak for such observations, who these other people were...he wasn't even upset with the boy's childish quips.

If he lost sight of what he wanted now, even for a moment, it would come crumbling down again. Nagare seemed to realize it too, and while the other boy in the room was disgruntled at not getting an answer out of Saruhiko, he did as asked, and left them, mild worry etched on his face.

The air plummeted quickly after, and Nagare wasted no time in breaching the icy divide. He knew this was Saruhiko's toughest challenge, facing change, risking it. But he had to, had to. Except this time...

Now he--

Saruhiko coughed, bloodied spit mixing into the sand as he fought off a sob at the memory. And yet, he continued to crawl as it played, because he had no choice. He wouldn't forget, no matter how badly he wanted to. It was his test.

He didn't miss the uncharacteristic pity laced in Nagare's eyes, as if he was actually fucking apologetic for what he was about to do. But it was there and gone in a second, and it was back to business.

"Fushimi, you know I can't give you the same question again, you already know the test behind it," Nagare had sighed, shoulders slumping. Saruhiko blinked, nothing more. Tired, so tired. He hadn't expected less anyhow. Of course Nagare's usual test was now futile to him, with his arrogant need to attempt the journey again. Ha, arrogant. Surely though, they had to know it was desperation more than anything else.

"I've been waiting for you, thinking about it, discussing it with my companions, trying to figure out the best way," Nagare explained uselessly, and Saruhiko picked up nothing he cared for in the words. "And--"

"Just do what you have to do." Saruhiko didn't recognize his own voice, it was dull and hoarse, and the tone of impatience was enough to make Nagare frown, face relaxing in reluctant acceptance.

Saruhiko wasn't ready for what would surely be the hardest thing he had to face, since Nagare's trial had proven to be the most difficult in the past, but there was no use putting it on hold.

He needed to do this. Everyone was waiting for him. He wouldn't disappoint again.

Nagare sighed, scanning over Saruhiko's dejected form, before he nodded.

"Very well."

Saruhiko had moved a good distance, on his hands and knees alone, but his muscles were starting to give again. It was only a matter of time before he was forced on his stomach, and yet such fast approaching matters weren't on his mind. Instead they were like a mantra, the dates.

June 13th.

October 4th.

January 2nd.

The years, he refused to acknowledge any of them, even the favorable ones. All the while Nagare's voice was mixed in.

"Your test will be fitting to you, and I'm afraid it’s not a trick. What you are about to know and see is the truth," Nagare went on, sliding up to Saruhiko until the other could see flashes of green sparking around them.

Saruhiko felt his stomach drop at the words, but he wasn't given time to ask his questions before it began. He shook his head, and it was like he'd been transported somewhere else, a nightmare really, and he knew a lot about those. The visions assaulted him full force, some bittersweet or kind, others entirely unfair. He wished he'd seen none of it, but something wouldn't let him look away. It hurt more than the fractures and cuts, more than failure.

Excusing Nagare for this would be close to impossible.

He didn't have to ask what the visions were of, he knew, the tears which had finally been expelled from his eyes showed that he knew, but Nagare decided to inform him anyways, as if things weren't clear enough.

"These are the deaths of those you hold dear, along with when they will occur and the circumstances. It is possible they might change their own outcomes in some way, but these are almost as good as final. Do forgive me," Nagare said, voice remaining level. "Your test is carrying them with you, knowing when and how they happen. You are not allowed to stop them, or to warn your loved ones in any way. Should you do so, I will make it so you are brought back immediately.

Saruhiko was hyperventilating, the sounds and voices, the emotions the scenes evoked...it was all too much.

He knew now, how Seri...the guys...

He was stuck with the knowledge forever, unable to use it, and suddenly he regretted it so much more, failing Nagare's test the first time around.

"Do I make myself clear?" 

It took what was probably equivalent to hours for Saruhiko to pick himself up from that well enough for him to process the words, the implications. To back down here....was out of the question. It didn't change his desire to throw up.

The trial, more like the punishment, might as well have been the straw that broke the camel's back for him, but he had to keep going regardless.

If he wanted to see them, to make the most of the time he had left...

Saruhiko would endure it for all of time, until each date of death passed, and he saw them all again in the afterlife. After all, there was always another way right? He'd yet to succeed with it sure, but knowing there truly was no such thing as goodbye...

Saruhiko dry heaved weakly one last time, straightening his back to finally meet Nagare's stern gaze.

No such thing...

"Crystal."

The gate was there, just ahead. Or at least, a huge block shaped blur was. So close, but too far away. He pushed himself more, the dates jolting his brain along with each lurch forward, the pain from his body blending with the pain in his heart, the longing, and he felt the last of his hope begin to dwindle.

His plan was crumbling, his resolve along with it, just as he'd predicted.

No.

In a fit of anguish, he put weight back on the heels of his feet, yelling at the pressure, and kicked forward, towards the mass in the distance.

Don't fall asleep, don't stop.

His mind was a battleground as always though, and with each encouragement came an equal sized surge of doubt.

You can't do this. You'll have to try again. You can barely move, stop being unreasonable. This is useless. Why did you think you could do this?

Why had he?

Because he wanted to be with his friends, with his Misaki, at home, in his bed, staying up too late on his laptop and drinking cheap coffee. He wanted all of it, still did.

Though, perhaps it wasn't going to be enough this time either.

After everything, it was going to fall apart...

Disappointment...guilt...

He raised his fist weakly, slamming it into the sand.

But the gate was right there, almost directly in front of him, or was he imagining things?

If he could just reach...

Try harder. You have to. But how much more? What else did he have left to give? His palms scratched against the floor, finding no purchase in the flimsy sand as they struggled to pull his whole weight forward. The strength to crawl was nearly gone, the last option he'd had after his legs had caved from all the running and beatings, slipping away. He could do nothing about it, as close as he was. And again, he found himself hoping, because that's what Misaki had taught him to do. Hope.

Almost. Always almost. Almost there.

The wind shrieked around him, his vision blanking out rapidly from the force of it, until the marble gate was more and more of a blur. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it was getting farther and farther away, evading him for eternity. Maybe that would be his true hell, so close to what he wanted, but never reaching it. It would be fitting, wouldn't it? No Misaki, none of the life he'd come to desire, just the loneliness of the Return, the journey he could not complete, neither the first nor the second time around.

So why was he still trying to move? Why put himself through it? How did he even know that the end of this, should he make it, would be what he expected?

Misaki's voice answered the question for him, all the way back from the beginning.

"You don't, but, wouldn't you give anything just to see?"

Ah, right.

At the time, he'd found the response, childish, stupid even, blind as he was. Now though, it pushed him forward, and gave him the solution to every question his mind dared to pose in opposition.

Why put himself through this? Simple, he had nothing more to lose, and everything to gain. For instance, his home, despite it being nothing more than a poorly decorated apartment; it didn't matter if it looked empty, because it seldom was. It was usually filled with voices, Seri and the guys, not mourning or crying, but laughing and getting too worked up over board games and movies. Then there was Seri herself, with her over the top wedding planning and support of his endeavors. He had the accomplishment he felt upon completing a difficult project at work, and really, he had his general state of existence, one he'd never thought he could miss. And lastly was Misaki, not alone, but with Saruhiko by his side, being held and kissed by the redhead and seeing the warmth in his eyes...

That's what Saruhiko had to gain, those moments and so many others. So he'd do it, this journey, again and again. Three times or twenty, until he either completely lost his mind or finally stained the marble with his blood soaked palm.

All he had to do was touch the surface...

He reached out, ignoring how distant the barrier appeared. He didn't want to trust his eyes anymore, they hardly worked anyhow, after all the strain. Saruhiko's body trembled violently from the extra movement, elbows giving out completely and leaving him lying in the dirt, hand extended pathetically. It was probably over, his muscles had ceased to listen, weighed down with exhaustion and injury, and his mind wasn't far behind. Even his hand, so determined to make contact, was gnarled from the previous trial.

But still he reached, felt his joints protest, and then reached farther. One of the last things his eyes were able to process was the shining white blur of the gate, and he wondered how close it truly was. His fingers slid against something sleek, maybe a flurry of sand which had been swirled up by the strong gusts of wind, and his hand finally dropped. It was useless, bruised and twitching in front of him. He had nothing left in him.

Saruhiko had failed. Again. Two rounds of trials, of self-doubt and fear, and for what? He'd fallen short once more. The longer he was here, the longer everyone he knew grieved and coped without him. The longer he missed their presence.

To think he'd come to have no issue admitting it, after so many years of denying it at every turn. Yet even with that driving him, it hadn't been enough.

Well, he would just have to try harder the next time, wouldn't he?

When the time came, he'd make sure. He'd be enough, for once.

His body didn't have the strength to sob, but the wind would've drowned it out anyways, howling as dirt whipped at his skin. Saruhiko's eyes were finally failing him, and the final thing he saw was a flash of darkness, and a brief slit of light, before it was all lost, his last thoughts never reaching his lips.

I'm sorry, Misaki.

I'm sorry, everyone.

Then there was silence.

.

.

.

.

"Fushimi Saruhiko. Age twenty, born on November 7th."

 A voice, one he couldn't understand.

 "Returned on the evening of August 14th."

 And then, there was nothing.

[words-are-like-colors]

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.”

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;

“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.

[itsuki-minamy]

Sample from the new novel, “K - THE FIRST STORY”, published on GoRa’s Twitter account. (Translation: Naru-kun)

Chapter 1: The Boy Named Isana Yashiro

Page 38:

He is coming.

The boy stood up getting ready. Looking around from the rooftop, he saw a large, symbolic monitor in front of the Shizume-cho station.

“Oh, here in front of the station? Thanks for your help! Well then…”

At a glance, with a sense of security that escaped the crisis, the usual boy returns to base. He felt it. It was a little difficult, but it seemed to have worked. Then he would return to Gakuen Island with his goods.

A sword in the sheath of the young man with long black hair blocked the boy’s path.

(Huh? Yes, it’s a sword, this… Why does this person have a sword?)

The black-haired young man swings the sword in the scabbard, rolling it onto the concrete again.

“I am a disciple of Ichigen Miwa, the previous Seventh King, I am Kuro Yatogami.”

The black-haired young man drew his sword quickly as he spoke in a low voice.

The boy cannot understand the young man’s words at once, and he bows his head.

“The Seventh King Ichigen Miwa?”

After repeating it as a spell, something comes to his mind.

“Oh, is it a name? My name is Isana, Yashiro Isana.”

He introduced himself as cheerfully as possible, but as if trying to silence the company, Ichigen Miwa’s royal envoy shook his sword.

Page 39:

The blade flew at such speed that only a silver trajectory was visible, slicing off the school emblem on the boy’s neck.

The school emblem near the boy’s throat was cut by a sharp sword and rolls on the rooftop concrete with a little noise.

As expected, the boy breathed silently and looked at the young man in front of him.

Looking seriously, the black-haired young man with the sword, Kuro, seemed to be younger than expected. He may not be much different from the boy, he may be a boy too.

He had a clean and drifting atmosphere with a sharp face. He was like a young warrior appearing in a movie, combining a place where a sword with a naked body looks good with a burn, a hairstyle that combines long straight black hair in a high position, a place where the back seems be serious and upright.

Kuro walks towards him a few steps with a calm expression that does not express emotions.

"Under the orders of my late master, I will defeat the evil "King”.“

The voice with which he declared it was calm. But deep in his voice, it seemed that a tragic determination was lurking.

The boy does not know what to accept and what to do, and makes a confused voice.

"What…? King…?”

Everything was strange to him today.

Calm as always, carefree, cooking rice at school, having everyone share their side dishes, eating rice with kittens, taking a nap and watching everyone prepare happily for the school festival organized by Kukuri…

Chapter 5: The Link

Page 226:

When you were next to Fushimi, he said he was too rushed to remember an idiot. But whether stupid or not, Yata’s haste has removed everything in front of him. Fushimi used to follow a Yata running aside, but that is no longer necessary. Yata has both power and endurance. Intelligence is not required. He will push everything with just his power.

A fierce attack with a flame covered fist. Fushimi dodges Yata’s attack, or defends him with blue power, but his feet gradually recede.

Yata chuckled at Fushimi, who was passively pushed.

“What’s wrong, Saru?”

Suddenly, Fushimi’s mouth made a smile.

Fushimi shows his left hand from the position where Yata becomes a blind spot. He saw a flying red light.

Yata opens his eyes to the red color emitted by Fushimi, and his response is delayed. Fushimi’s knife, illuminated with the red light of “Homura”, pierced Yata’s shoulder.

The first thing he felt was pain, not fever. It was the sensation of fire.

When he noticed, Yata hit and rolled on the ground. He hears Kamamoto’s impatient voice saying “Yata-san!”

Frowning, Yata holds the right shoulder where the knife protrudes.

The burning pain of the wound pulses along with the heartbeat.

Yata clenched his teeth and removed the knife from his shoulder.

Page 227:

This knife is familiar to Yata. Fushimi was originally a darker messenger. When he was in “Homura”, Fushimi mainly used to throw knives. Yata observed this closely many times, even though this knife carries the power of red.

But now Yata was completely amazed at Fushimi’s use of a knife with the same red power as at the time. You can say that he is afraid.

Yata distorted his face in anger and somehow wanting to cry.

Fushimi looked at Yata with a smile.

“What do you think? I left Suoh and got stronger. This is the proof!”

The “Scepter 4” saber that carries the blue light and the knife he used that carries the “Homura” red light.

He escaped from Fushimi, who had them both, Yata’s head was feverishly hot.

“Two colors.”

Kamamoto said in an annoyed voice and stood up, trying to cover the fallen Yata.

But his feet stop in one step. Fushimi’s bright red knife flew and stabbed under Kamamoto’s feet. As soon as the red power explodes in the knife, the pillar of fire rises. Kamamoto rolls on the floor.

“Don’t meddle! I don’t call small fish!”

Looking at Fushimi’s profile screaming with the power to change his voice, Yata stood up again.

Chapter 11: The Night Before

Page 430:

Munakata was not an anger under justice, but even a private hatred, as if he was willing to accept anger in annihilation.

The hand that grabbed Suoh’s chest was trembling due to excessive power.

“There are unrelated ordinary students here. Are they your comrades?”

Suoh appeared up close.

"Do you understand?”

Suoh, who had been chasing with an easy attitude, did not turn his eyes, did not shake his eyes, and looked directly into Munakata’s eyes.

While looking at the Munakata with still eyes, Suoh slowly turned his words as if to tell him.

“I will put my body in front. You do your job. That is all.”

At that moment, Munakata’s entire body was hit with helplessness that he had never felt in his life.

Munakata relaxes and releases his hand from Suoh’s chest.

He relaxed and consciously raised his emotionally warmed head.

“Barbarians. Outside the scope of understanding.”

"Huh. I don’t think you can persuade me. At the gala too, although not on purpose.”

Suoh stood up again and said that.

Not even at the gala. May be. He doesn’t understand Suoh, but he understands him at the same time.

Page 431:

At least he understood that Suoh would not bend his will here.

However, he believes that surrender is not like him either.

Above all, before fighting as "Blue King” standing with a cause, he would have been surprised if he had not guessed with Reisi Munakata’s personal words.

“Separately, I just came to see my friend.”

He turned around and said that which was nothing like a gala, and Suoh expressed his most surprising emotion today. The expression immediately turns into a bitter smile.

Suoh dropped the cigarette he had just added to the ground and stepped on it.

“I’m going.”

Suoh turned his back on the Munakata and said that in a soft sound.

As they faced each other in the other direction, they watched the fragment of snow that fell in front of them.

“Suoh. You will do it?”

“Absolutely.”

Munakata looked down.

The snow is slightly larger than before, falling gently and quietly onto the ground and accumulating.

The excitement that arose in Munakata just before was cold, and the cold of the snowy night has just soaked into the core of the body.