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Kageyama hadn’t meant it, hell, he wasn’t even sure what he had said, the words slipping out between one beat and the next. All he knew was that an odd silence had fallen around him, the usual shouts of practice falling quiet, and when he had tossed the ball – with perfect precision for their usual combination, there was no rush of pounding feet, or flash of sunlit crow rising to meet it. It was only when the ball hit the ground, bouncing a couple of times, before rolling off to lie abandoned by the side of the court that it dawned on him what was wrong, and he whirled, seeking out Hinata. Only to come up short, as Hinata met his gaze with eyes that had been alight with excitement and happiness only moments before, now dulled, and glistening with threatened tears.
“You’re a jerk.” The words hit him with almost physical force, the one not one he had heard from Hinata before, but before he could react the other teen was moving and bolting for the door, and Kageyama didn’t need the stern looks or hand gestures to know that he needed to follow.
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Fushimi hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open, certain that he didn’t have any right to be here anymore, and honestly reluctant to be here. However, there had been no sign of Yata since they’d heard that Kusanagi had left the city, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was worried about the hot-headed vanguard. He might not even be here, he reminded himself as he stepped into the HOMRA bar and glanced around, feeling an odd pang in his chest as he realised that the once pristine bar was now covered in a layer of dust. It felt empty, and abandoned, and he clicked his tongue, unsettled by the realisation that it bothered him, before he glanced down. Feeling something akin to hope blossoming in his chest as he realised that there among the dust, were shoeprints, fresh enough to indicate that it had been the last day or so and taking a deep breath he moved further in.
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They had been in this situation too many times, these snatched moments between missions and fights, secreted away where neither side could find them. Yet even here, in these precious times when they could just be Alma and Lavi, the war still seeped in. It was there in the shadows in Alma’s eyes, the nightmares that disturbed his hard-won rest, and usually rousing Lavi as well, as it was hard to sleep deeply when you constantly had enemies on your tail. It was there in the bandages around Lavi’s arm, and the sling holding it in place, bruises spreading across a pale cheek, evidence that once again he could have been snatched away, and if there was a tremor to Alma’s hand as he traced the outline of it then neither of them commented. In these precious moments, the war was present, but ignored and unspoken, as they held each other close and silently wished that these moments could become something more.
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Iwaizumi could feel eyes on him as Keiji walked towards him, and he fought the urge to glance towards the gym, instead smiling as he greeted the other teen.“I’m sorry,” Keiji’s voice was low as he tilted his head back towards the gym, fingers tightening around the strap of his bag, his smile a little stilted. “I did warn them…” Iwaizumi was about to let the small, private smile that he had fallen for, be dimmed, especially not for their first date and he lifted his head and stepped forward. His gaze locked on the gym, as he reached out and took Keiji’s hand, twining their fingers together, before gathering his courage and stepping forward and kissing the other’s cheek. Distantly he heard a protest from the gym, easily able to imagine the overly protective teammates barely resisting coming out to give him another version of the ‘you hurt him and….’ talk, but he didn’t care, before his actions had brightening Keiji’s smile, letting it reach his eyes and his own smile grew in turn.
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The first time it had been more of a feeling than a memory, a sense of rightness and belonging that had taken his breath away when his fingers had brushed Keiji’s, the two of them reaching for the ball at the same time. The second time, there had been a flicker of something more – a flash of blue eyes, in a face that was so similar and yet so different at once – and then Hajime blinked, finding himself staring across the net at Akaashi who was studying him with narrowed eyes. The third time, they had been alone, not quite a date or at least they had refused to label it as that when interrogated by their teammates, and Hajime’s world had narrowed down to the hand in his, feeling as though he had come home as his fingers tightened around the others. The fourth time, they kissed, nervous and messy – and Hajime was lost, drawn back to another time and place, blue eyes meeting his as they met in the middle, and it was almost a shock to blink and find himself back outside his boyfriend’s house. The fifth time, they were cuddled up on the sofa, Keiji curled almost cat-like against his chest, and Hajime was struck with a feeling of rightness, of coming home and as his fingers found dark hair, he knew that they had done this before.
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“That should hold for now,” Iwaizumi muttered as he finished fixing the bandage in place, trying not to focus on the crimson that was already bleeding through, as he glanced up at his companion’s pale features. Akaashi for his part was quiet, only the bead of blood on his lip, betraying the fact that it wasn’t his usual quietness, and Iwaizumi hesitated for a moment before reaching out to brush the blood away, finger lingering for a moment before he sat back on his heels as they heard movement in the distance. “Can you move?”“Do I have a choice?” The quiet amusement, behind the sarcasm reassured him that the situation wasn’t too dire, although watching Akaashi stagger to his feet, armour hampering him as his leg threatened to cave before he steadied himself, ruined the effect. Still, he managed to huff a laugh as he retrieved his sword, sheathing it for the time being as he moved to support Akaashi, guiding him out of the alcove they had used for shelter, only the tightness of his grip betraying his concern.
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Bulat ignored Leone’s knowing grin as he slipped into the dining room late that evening, relieved when Tatsumi and Akame immediately dragged him into the conversation before she could get a dig in, but unable to stop himself from reaching up to make sure that his collar was hiding the side of his neck. He didn’t even know why he was trying to hide it, after all, it was well known in their group that he was gay… and yet he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Maybe it was because it was the only thing he had outside of Night Raid, the only thing he had that was untouched by the blood he had already spilt and the blood he would shed in the future. Maybe it was because he was sacred that once his boyfriend saw this side of him, he would run away like any sensible person would…he didn’t know, he just knew that he wasn’t ready to tell them, even as the secret lay like a leaden weight in the pit of his stomach. One day, once all of this over I will tell them…one day…
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It had been a thought that had plagued her from a young age, was she useful? Was she useless? She had always leant towards the latter, well aware that she was an airhead, things falling apart in her hands no matter what she tried to do to hold them together and she’d thought that was how it was always going to be. She had never expected to be proven wrong, especially not with a large pair of Scissors in her hands and blood covering her front, specks blurring her vision as they ran down her glasses. She had expected to feel cold, scared, guilty…instead, she was calm, a feeling of purpose and usefulness flooding her, and her voice was even as she crouched down over her victim, hands steady as she closed their eyes unminding of the blood on her fingers.“I’m sorry.” Thank you…Thank you for proving that I can be something more, that these hands can do something useful.
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She had been nine the first time she had seen a Lion, it had been chained and submissive, just part of a circus that was passing through. But there had been a spark in the amber eyes that had met hers for a moment, a wildness that hadn’t been broken that had called to her…he had been fighting, holding onto himself despite what the humans had done to him. It hadn’t been the first time that she had hated humans, but it was the first time she had really wanted to lash out and hurt them…instead, she had given him the chance to do it, sneaking into the circus that night and releasing him. Finding herself face to face with him had been terrifying but thrilling, but he had spared her…the others hadn’t been so lucky, and in the end neither had he, killed before he could make his way to freedom. That day surrounded by the chaos of his rampage, tears streaking down her cheeks as she watched them carry the Lion away she had promised herself that she would never break, that she would fight back and that she would be free…it was a promise she carried with her…and it was that Lion, and his lingering spark of wildness that she had clung to the first time she had transformed.
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Akame’s eyes were dry as she settled on the grass in front of the memorial that had been erected to honour Night Raid, a gesture of thanks from the Rebel Army, but an empty one…the cool stone with the golden lettering engraved in its surface meant little, it did nothing to capture the essence of Night Raid or its members…it did nothing to represent the family that she’d lost. And they had been family, even more than her own sister had been…they had been close, too close many had said in the aftermath of everything that had happened. She hadn’t realised it at a time, hadn’t known what a family was like… but looking back, missing the meals taken together, the fun they’d had despite being surrounded by death, the way they had fought for each other and mourned each other…she realised it now, and it left a dull ache in her chest, even as it fed her determination to keep moving, to keep their family alive, to make sure people remembered Night Raid and how it had been, rather than remembering a lonely monument on an isolated hill.
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“What the hell were you thinking?” Leone growled, finally breaking the litany of curses she had been mumbling under her breath as she practically carried him inside the house she had just broken into, her hands gentler than her voice as she guided him into what appeared to be a living room and settled him on the couch. Lubbock winced at the movement, hand pressing firmly against his side to try and stop the bleeding, a task that he was failing at given the state of his coat and he lifted his head, not wanting to see it, meeting worried golden eyes and managing a weak grin.“I was saving your ass.” Leone let out an irritated noise, the answer doing little to calm her anger before she stalked out of the room, muttering something about finding supplies and ordering him to stay put… as though he had a choice, as it had only been her arm around him that had got him this far. His grin faded slightly, but didn’t disappear, she was always like this…the more she grumbled and shouted, the more she cared, it was something that had taken him a while to realise, but now it was comforting and he let his eyes drift shut, trusting that she would come back…trusting that everything would be fine.
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“Do you even understand the concept of holding back?” Lubbock demanded as he fell onto his back, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, convinced that there wasn’t a single part of his body that didn’t hurt…or that wasn’t going to be black and blue by morning. It was a small comfort that Leone looked just as worn out as she slumped next to him, although her usual grin was as bright as ever, mischief dancing in the golden eyes that met his glare.“Last time I held back you thought I was sick,” she pointed out, and he groaned at the reminder, having foolishly hoped that she had forgotten about that when they had agreed to train together… apparently not according the wicked smirk that crept across her lips as she continued. “I had Akame and the others fussing over me all afternoon, so this was payback…besides if I’m tough on you now, I’ll probably save your life in the future.” He sighed at that, seeing her deflate at her own words, the reality of their situation pressing in once more, now that they were no longer distracted with their fight and his own voice was soft as he admitted the truth in her words.“You probably will.”
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Lubbock yelped as a stone hit the wall worryingly close to his face, tightening his grip on Leone’s wrist when she tried to turn around and retaliate, dragging her after him as he darted around the corner.“What the hell did you do this time?” He demanded, not sparing a glance back as he heard the sounds of pursuit getting closer, instead wracking his brain for somewhere they could hide…wishing that this was the first time that this had happened, but it wasn’t, and his mood wasn’t improved by the sound of Leone chuckling.“It was just a joke…I was teaching them not to trust pretty strangers.”“Again? Not everyone is like Tatsumi,” he growled at her, finally looking back at her and only marginally appeased by the sheepish grin that met his glance, his eyes narrowed as he added harshly. “And your jokes aren’t really funny…”
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Perhaps it was because they spent so much time training together, or maybe it was because Bulat, despite giving himself wholeheartedly to Night Raid had still held onto his softer side, but it was the older man who could always see through his smile…his false bravado. Sometimes he wasn’t even aware of it himself, the sorrow a constant hum at the back of his thoughts, something he had become almost numb to. Almost, until Bulat would take him aside, declaring in a loud voice that training was over for the day or that they were going to have some bonding time, before leading him up to where he’d laid Saya and Ieyasu to rest. The older man never pressed him to talk, never muttered false reassurances that thinks would get better, instead he would just stand or sit a short distance away…never too close, but close enough that Tatsumi knew he wasn’t alone and he would wait. It didn’t matter if it was one of the days when he would break down in tears and scream out his pain and anger, or one of the days when the words just wouldn’t come and he would sit there in silence until it was time to return, Bulat would still be there waiting for him, ready to walk him back…and ready to bring him back again when the sorrow returned.
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It was Bulat who was the first to make him feel at home in Night Raid, the first one who made him realise that he might just have found himself a family. He had been an only child, but everyone in their village was so tightly knit that it had never felt like that, and losing Saya and Ieyasu and unable to return to home without something to show for the village’s faith in them, had left him adrift…alone…and whilst revenge, and learning to be an assassin helped to fill the void, it wasn’t enough. However, Bulat was always there…not necessarily more than the others, because he was new and needed to be watched, but the older man was the most welcoming. It was Bulat who would shove more food on him, even on the mornings when sorrow made everything taste like ash, Bulat who would encourage and challenge him to do better in training, who had faith even when his faltered. It was Bulat, rousing him from a nightmare before crawling into bed beside him to make sure that he got back to sleep that made him realise that regardless of what happened with the others, he had found family…he had found a brother.
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It hadn’t seemed like it at first, maybe because he was so overwhelmed by the turn his own life had taken, but gradually Tatsumi began to realise that he wasn’t the only one that struggled with their life, with the burden of being part of Night Raid. There were little signs, people missing meals, snapping more than usual or going out and training until they collapsed from exhaustion…all attempts to cope, to deal with what was happening. It was Bulat though who showed him how deep that burden, that struggle could go, the older man disappearing for several hours one day, and in the end Tatsumi had gone to find him. Eventually finding him in the town, slumped over in a bar with a half empty mug of ale in front of him, although he didn’t seem to be drunk…more lost…empty of the usual energy that filled him, and Tatsumi had nearly left him, not sure how to help. But there was a misery in the dark eyes that he recognised, it was the same emotion that overwhelmed him on days when got caught up on everything that had happened and everything that was still to come…the feeling that left him feeling like he might shatter under the burden…and so he gathered his courage and slipped into the booth beside Bulat, not speaking just yet, just being there, a silent aid against the burdens weighing down on both of them.
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Akame leant forward, watching with the same keen attention that she would normally give a target as she watched Susanoo work, admiring the way his hands moved effortlessly, not a single movement wasted or the slightest hint of hesitation. When he had first arrived, she had been reluctant to relinquish her almost singular control of the kitchen. The others could and would cook as necessary, but at some point, the kitchen had become her territory, cooking letting her quiet her thoughts and focus on something other death. Even when she had seen his skill she had hesitated, but then he had invited her to cook with him and she had realised that she wasn’t losing her sanctuary, she was gaining an ally. His quiet presence and capability breaking though her barriers faster than she had ever thought possible, until she was welcoming him with a warm smile, sharing recipes with him and challenging him to friendly competitions.
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Akame was breathing heavily as she skidded away from Bulat, eyes instinctively checking her sword for any sign of damage before shifting her attention back to her sparring partner. In his armour, it was hard to tell if he was as exhausted as she was, but they had fought together often enough for her to catch the slight droop to his shoulders, the added heaviness in his step as he dropped back into a ready positon. Part of her wanted to call a halt to it then, she was ready to collapse and it was only practice, but as always when she practiced with him she could feel herself getting sucked into the competitive air that he always managed to introduce. So, she ignored her screaming muscles and the sweat trickling down her face, readying herself as he charged with a roar that made him sound as though he had only just started, a rare smile of true enjoyment escaping when she darted forwards to meet his charge. He might be an ally, and it might only be sparring with neither of them aiming to injure, but as she found herself being pushed forwards she savoured the chance to go against a worthy opponent.
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Lubbock cursed under his breath as he drifted awake, wishing that he had stayed asleep as pain slammed into him once more and after a moment of trying not to make a sound he groaned miserably. A soothing voice from somewhere above him, and the feeling of fingers running gently through his hair drew his attention to the fact that his head was no longer resting on the couch but someone’s lap and he blinked. Cautiously, mindful of his injuries he rolled over, eyes widening as he found himself meeting Najenda’s even gaze and they stared at one another for a moment before her stern features relaxed.“You seemed uncomfortable.” It was the closest she would allow herself to get to showing concern when they were in a public area, but he didn’t mind, managing a smile despite his discomfort and shyly cuddling closer into the offered comfort.
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Lance had always thought that it would hurt more, that it would feel as though someone had cut a hole in his chest if anything ever happened to Keith. Instead he felt nothing as he watched the rest of his team, his family, falling apart around him. Shiro was on his knees on the other side of Keith’s still form, shoulders shaking as he clutched Keith’s hand, Pidge was holding up a sobbing Hunk as tears ran down her cheeks and Allura had her face buried against Coran’s shoulder. In the distance he could hear Red roaring her anguish, yet Lance himself was silent, dry-eyed and blank-faced as he watched them all grieving, a strange, distant anger bubbling up in his chest. Why? Why can you all mourn him, when I can’t?
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Hunk blinked in surprise as Pidge suddenly shoved a card into his hands, her face bright red and her gaze averted, and before he could ask what it was or stop her, she had taken off at run down the corridor babbling something about checking on her Lion. What was that about? He rubbed the back of his head in confusion, she had been acting slightly odd the last couple of days and now this…he glanced down at the card in his hand, wondering how she had managed to make it before turning the envelope over. It wasn’t his birthday and as far as he knew it wasn’t an important date on earth, but still it had come from Pidge so there had to be a reason for it, and he couldn’t quite hide his eagerness as he tore open the envelope…to find that the card had been painstakingly cut into the shape of two ducks kissing and coloured a bright, cheerful yellow, he stared at it for a minute, admiring the cuteness before opening it. Happy Valentine’s Day, this time he was the one to go bright red, stammering and stuttering even though there was no-one there to witness his reaction…or his guilty expression as he realised that he had forgotten, and he was about to close the card when he caught the tiny postscript scribbled in the corner. We’re ducks out of water, out here in space together…
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At some point it had become a tradition amongst the three of them. It had been Hunk who had started it, breaking into Lance’s room with Pidge in tow on the anniversary of the day they had all started at the garrison, bringing with him food and recollections that other two were stunned to realise they were beginning to forget. That had been the start…after that it had been Lance who had raided the kitchen for anything that Coran hadn’t made, retrieving the other two from their lab, reminding them in a soft voice that it was a year since they had left the Garrison. The next time it was Pidge, for once willingly abandoning her work to hunt them down with food and invitation to play on the games system she had managed to construct and that night they had stayed up late, marking what would have been their graduation day at the Garrison. Sometimes the others would dip in, bringing food and staying to hear tales of their life before Voltron, but it was understood that this was something for the three of them, a tradition followed each year on the days that held most meaning for them…a way to cling to what they’d had, and a wish that one day they would get to go home.
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“You would’ve loved this…” The words crept unbidden from his lips as they always did when he was confronted by something that he knew Lance would have loved, wide oceans, sometimes the same colour as the ones back on Earth, sometimes a dizzying array of colours that always reminded him vividly of Blue’s ice. This time though they seemed more poignant, more painful, and there were tears in his eyes as he made himself look out of Red’s eyes, drinking in the sight of Earth stretching out below…familiar and yet strangely foreign after so long away. It was a sight he almost wished that he hadn’t survived to see, because it felt wrong…so wrong to be flying above their home planet, to be seeing it, to be within reach and to not have Lance at his side. Lance should’ve been there, flying by his side, whooping at finally being so close to home…he should have been able to turn to display and see his boyfriend, see the soft smile that always spoke of a longing for home, to see the tears that he knew would have been shimmering in blue eyes at this moment.
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V’s hands clenched in his lap as he stared at the chatroom, each accusation from Yoosung striking him to the core and he itched to snap back…to cut off the hurtful words once and for all, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to type the words. Instead he hid behind pretty words, half explanations and half excuses, knowing that he was fanning the flames but unable to do anything else just yet…because he hadn’t moved on, he hadn’t dealt with the fact that Rika wasn’t there anymore. He had told them that he had destroyed everything, that he was looking to the future, but he only had to lift his head to see her belongings cluttering his home…photos of the two of them hanging from the wall and he closed his eyes. He could never destroy them…he could never banish her presence from his home even though it hurt to see so much of Rika and to know that she wasn’t there anymore…because all he had left was those belongings and the memories they had made together, and he cherished them just as much as he had cherished her when she was alive.
I miss her…I love her…why can’t you see that?
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He could hear the messenger chiming…he knew that the others were talking about him, about the party…about her…and that he should be joining in, especially as he had been the one to decided they should try and hold a party. Instead he found his fingers opening the last chat he’d had with Rika…it was hidden from the others thanks to Luciel, meaning that precious conversation lay untouched…it wasn’t that it was anything important, they had been joking, making plans that they would probably never follow through on, although he had made a note of several of them in the hopes of surprising her. No…it was the messages that he’d added since then that he wanted to hide, after all they were for Rika’s eyes only, because he believed that she could still see them…he had to believe that. Some were just little comments about what he was doing now, how much he missed her and more lately that they were trying to continue her legacy…but the majority of them were apologies. Apologies for not having realised something was wrong…for not being able to protect her…for not being able to continue with her work until now…for not going to the cemetery to visit her, and his fingers faltered for a moment before he added another. I’m sorry that I can’t let you go…
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V could hear the sound of the party drifting up from down below and he knew that he would have to put in an appearance soon…he needed to mingle before they auctioned off his photos…but whenever he tried to step towards the door his breathing quickened and he found himself frozen. He had known that this was going to happen and to be honest he had been torn about whether he was even going to try attending…it had been Rika, staring at him from the picture on his bedside table that had forced him to pull on his suit and head out, but she wasn’t here now…she wasn’t waiting down below like she should be, and she wasn’t at his back to give him that shove forward.“You always knew what you wanted…where you were going,” he whispered, closing his eyes as remembered bright brown eyes narrowed in determination, her voice usually so soft growing louder, pushing him…pushing all of them forward to the place that she wanted to be. “I can’t do that…not on my own.” He was reaching for his phone, intending to message one of the others and tell them that he was leaving when there was a gentle touch on the back of his shoulder and he froze…it felt the same as the nudge he’d got from the photo earlier and he closed his eyes in defeat. “I never could say know to you,” he added softly, taking a step forward and then another, the sensation at his back disappearing when he stepped out of the door.
Maybe I can do this…because of you.
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“What’s wrong?” Adrien demanded as he burst into the classroom, green eyes darting around for some sign of danger after hearing Chloe’s cry, only to come up short when he spotted her leaning over her desk and clutching at her finger. “Chloe?” She glanced up at him with watery eyes, relief spreading across her face as she slowly lifted her finger for him to see, and he tried not to roll his eyes at the sight of the papercut on her finger.“I cut myself…” He deliberately didn’t think about all the cuts and bruises he had gained trying to keep her safe as Chat Noir, moving across to her, with a soft sigh and a fond smile…she had never changed, he could still remember a little Chloe constantly coming to him with the slightest bump, always refusing to seek out her own parents…and it was that memory which guided him into taking her hand, turning it over so that he could lean down and press a quick kiss to the cut before smiling winningly at her.“All better.”
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She wasn’t good at dealing with emotions, not even her own…she liked to lash out, to speak without thinking…but something told her that right now that wouldn’t help. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught Adrien hiding tears on this day, after all they had known each other a long time, but back then she had always turned away…letting him cry on his own, not sure what to do or if she wanted to help, but things had changed. Sighing and tugging agitatedly at her hair she stared at him for a long moment, taking in the hunched shoulders, the tears glistening in green eyes and the fact that the smile she liked so much was nowhere to be seen and with a low growl she stepped forward. Hoping that she wasn’t about to make things worse she stepped up behind him, snaking her arms around him and pressing her face into his shoulder, carefully biting back her words…she didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t want to bicker today…and so she waited, feeling him stiffen for a minute and beginning to think she had got it wrong when the silence stretched on. She was caught by surprise when he suddenly moved, twisting in the circle of her arms and wrapping her up in a tight hug, his head dropping to hide in the crook of her neck as he sniffled.“Thank you, Chloe…”
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Rin groaned as she stirred, the pounding in the back of her head telling her that she wasn’t waking from a nap and she had vague recollection of seeing the spell rushing towards her and her eyes flew open, half expecting to find herself back on the roof top. Instead she found herself staring at the familiar ceiling of her own room, and she blinked before cautiously pushing herself upright, gasping as the movement brought with awareness of the bone deep ache that had settled into her body.“Rin!” She flinched at the sudden voice, and then there were frantic hands on her shoulders, supporting her and gripping with a desperation that she couldn’t miss and slowly she lifted her head, breath catching as she met wild green eyes. Saber, who was usually a master at keeping her emotions in check was trembling, eyes shadowed as she met Rin’s gaze for a moment before cautiously leaning in and wrapping her arms around her in the gentlest hug imaginable. “You scared me…I thought that I had lost you.”
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Rin froze as she felt warm arms creeping around her, pulling her into a tight hug although the movements were way as though her companion expected to be pushed away. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move…how long had it been since someone had held her like this? She had a vague recollection a nanny hugging her, but that had been a long time ago and she closed her eyes, sinking into the warm arms. Her family were not ones for affection, their approval shown in more subtle ways and normally she was fine with that, or rather she had learned to live with it…but right now, with the war raging around them and defeat and failure hovering over her, this was just what she needed, and she lifted trembling hands to grasp the arms holding.“Thank you…Saber.”
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“I said that I release you! I release you from me! From this war!” Rin shouted, holding up her arm and waiting for the last of the master seals to vanish, but there wasn’t the slightest sign of it even beginning to fade and she lifted her head to find Saber staring at her with wide eyes. “I…release you,” her voice hitched as a sob welled up and despite herself she found herself curling her fingers protectively around the mark. She didn’t want to release Saber and not because she had finally gained the most powerful Servant, but because she didn’t want to say goodbye…and yet at the same time she didn’t know what else to do, how else to keep the woman she had come to love out of this war, because she knew that as long as she remained at risk then Saber would fight.
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Rin sighed as he stared down at his homework, the page still only half done even though it had been hours since he had forced himself to settle down in the library and work on it, knowing that he wouldn’t do it in his room. The others had long since disappeared off to do other things, shooting him either pitying or disdainful looks as he sighed and groaned, his tail having long since slipped out to flick agitatedly against the chair.“I figured you’d still be here.” The sudden voice startled him, and he jumped violently before lifting his head to find Bon standing at the end of the desk, staring at him with a raised eyebrow and he bristled, waiting for the teasing to start. “You could just have asked us for help when we were here you know?” They both knew it wasn’t that simple, Rin was proud and he had to prove himself, a burden that never seemed to ease regardless of what he did…and the others never knew how far they could go in helping him before they risked endangering his place here. Bon grimaced before moving around the table and settling into the seat beside him, stealing his book and glancing at the scrawled writing before jabbing a finger at it. “You told us this in class today…you just need to write what you said, and you were arguing about that second question with Yukio the day before…”
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Bon blinked, startled when a bento box appeared in front of him, following the hand attached to it with his eyes and looking up to find Rin stood there, cheeks slightly pink and gaze averted. It wasn’t the first-time Rin had cooked for any of them, although it was the first time he had appeared with something for Bon alone, but it still didn’t explain why he seemed so flustered by it.“Thank you?” He deliberately made it a question, staring at Rin until the other teen shifted uneasily, running fingers nervously through his hair before managing to gather his courage.“That’s what this is…a thank you,” Rin mumbled, sighing when he saw the confusion that met his words and glancing around to make sure they were alone, before explaining. “For helping me study…you didn’t have to.” Ah…that made more sense, because Rin was always wary of accepting help…worried that it would come back to bite him, that it would make people see him as weak…as a failure and Bon knew that he had been one of the ones that would have seen it like that in the past. But not now…and he offered the other boy a small smile.“I know I didn’t…but I wanted to.”
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“SOO-WON!” She had never thought that she would be able to cry his name like that, not grieving and frightened, not after everything he had done. But right now, it felt as though her heart was being torn out all over again as he crumpled under the blow that had been intended for her, his face pale and his robes being painted with a crimson that right then she hated more than her own red. She didn’t remember taking aim let alone firing, her bow falling from her hands at the same time as her attacker fell and then she was stumbling forwards, falling to her knees and grasping his hand in both of hers. “Soo-Won…?” He was barely breathing, eyes flickering and she swallowed, having seen enough of the world now to know there was no coming back from this and her fingers trembled as she reached out to stroke his cheek, waiting for his unfocused gaze to drift in her direction. “I forgive you.”
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Ik-su had told her that it wasn’t a sin to still love Soo-Won even after everything he had done, and despite everything Hak had never pushed her to forget about him…to hate him…and so she chose. She chose to embrace the feelings that had her heart aflutter every time she encountered Soo-Won, the feelings that had her seeking out the hair pin hidden in her robe when the past reared its head. She didn’t forget what he had done, she didn’t think that she would ever be able to, that night written irrevocably on her memory and she didn’t forgive, because regardless of the good he had done since…he had killed her father. However, there was a steadiness in her hands when she finally faced him, bow strung and arrow aimed at his heart, because she knew how she felt…had embraced it and turned it into resolve and strength, and even as he spoke, his voice tugging at her heart she didn’t waver, tears on her cheeks as she loosed her arrow.
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“I do remember,” Yona replied after a long moment, her voice completely level, not betraying the storm that Soo-Won had ignited in her heart when he had asked if she still remembered how they had been, and her fingers tightened around the hair pin that she was clutching like a talisman against her chest. “I have never let myself forget, but…”“But?”“Childhood memories,” she paused, glancing around the throne room, remembering creeping in here with him and pretending that they were the King and Queen and it was harder than she liked to focus on him again, heart aching. “Childhood memories, and childhood feelings can’t change what you did, or what I need to do.”“I know,” Soo-Won looked pained by his own admission, grief and something darker in his eyes as he glanced away, unable to hold her gaze. “I just don’t want you to forget me.”
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King. It was a title that she could never associate with Soo-Won, or rather one that she refused to allow herself to associate with him, even as a traitorous voice whispered that he had done more for the country than her father had. Her even more treacherous heart acknowledging with a flutter that he looked good up there on the throne, the crown glistening in the light. However, as she stepped out into the open, red hair bared to the world to make sure there would be no mistaking who she was, her knuckles turning white around her hair pin as she met his gaze…she wasn’t facing the King. She was facing someone who could have been King, would have been King if he had stayed loyal, if he had loved her as she loved him…and she didn’t hesitate as she moved forwards to meet him, hands steady as she let the hair pin fall at last, voice clear and carrying.“I have come to reclaim my throne.”
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“I was waiting to do this,” Soo-Won murmured, serene even though he was surrounded, her arrow buried in his shoulder and she wanted to hate him. Wanted to hate the fact that even now he held power over her, but she didn’t speak, waiting, watching to see what he would do now although she was careful to keep one hand on her bow. What she hadn’t expected was for him to reach out with trembling hands and push the crown that had been dislodged during the struggle towards her. She didn’t move to take it, heart aching at the sight of it…it had cost her so much, cost them so much…and she blinked when Soo-won nudged it closer, before lifting his head and meeting her gaze. “It has always been yours…” Then why do any of this? Why kill my father? She wanted to scream at him, but the words wouldn’t come and instead she reached out and rested her hand on top of the crown just as he whispered. “Long live Queen Yona.”
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Considering everything that Shion had been through it was unsurprising that he would have nightmares, but that knowledge didn’t make it any easier for Nezumi to witness. Some were simple ones, silly fears and nightmarish images that were chased away with a hug and gentle words, Shion curling against his chest and dropping off to sleep again within minutes. Others were not so simple…. there were the ones where he would wake up crying out in pain, flailing and pleading for Nezumi to get the wasp out of him…to kill him…Nezumi would shiver at those ones, unable to forget the feel of Shion’s skin parting beneath his scalpel and it would take him a moment to collect himself enough to gather the smaller man against himself, running his fingers along the mark that night had left behind…quietly reminding him that was over, that it was the past, and slowly Shion would relax against him…but it would take them both hours to fall back asleep. The worst ones though where were Shion would fly awake gasping and grasping at where he had been shot, apologising to Nezumi…to Safu…to his mother…neither of them would sleep after that one, clinging to one another as they tried to fight off the memories, listening to the others breathing to remind themselves that it was over…that they were both alive.
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Nezumi hesitated for a moment as he stared at the door to his home, it had been the thought of coming back here…of being back amongst his books, back in familiar surroundings that had driven him to travel night and day for the past week…but he felt odd and out of place now as he stared at the door, as though something was missing. No, he wasn’t fooling himself…he knew what was missing, and he closed his eyes as crimson eyes and white hair flashed his thoughts and he groaned…when had Shion become synonymous with home? He cursed under his breath, not really irritated and turned to leave, realising that he wasn’t going to settle until he had seen the idiot only to freeze at the sound of a door opening…his door opening and he whirled, hand slipping down to his knife, only to freeze as he found himself staring into Shion’s stunned eyes.“Ne…zumi?” The dark-haired teen was moving before the question was even out, wrapping his arms around the smaller teen and burying his head into Shion’s shoulder as a feeling of home that he had never felt washed over him.
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Shion shivered as he sat on one of the few piles of rubble that hadn’t been cleared away, his eyes fixed on the distance as though hoping that Nezumi would just reappear if he waited long enough…if he watched and watched and watched, then maybe the other teen would reappear. Another shiver worked its way through him and he sighed, tugging the jumper he had pilfered from Nezumi’s tighter around himself already knowing that it wouldn’t help…he was always cold these days. He had always associated Nezumi with the cold…remembering the storm the night they had met, the unforgiving look in his eyes when they had met again, the way he had kept him at arm’s length for so long. That had slowly begun to change, and he closed his eyes, losing himself in memories of gentle touches, dancing surrounded by books…lying in Nezumi’s lap, coming back to himself with the chill of his near death still lingering and realising that the taller teen had always been warm, he had just been blind to it. He shivered again, wrapping his arms around himself as he tried to pretend it was Nezumi that was holding him…desperate to feel that warmth again…because he missed him, he missed his warmth…and he was so tired of this never-ending cold.
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Shion had known from the moment that they parted that he was going to miss Nezumi, his hand closing on empty air as the dark-haired teen disappeared without a backwards glance. He just hadn’t expected it to be this bad…he found himself jumping at the slightest noise, rushing downstairs in the hopes of finding Nezumi standing there, smirking at him for being an idiot. Every time Hamlet and the others reappeared he found himself frantically checking to see if they were carrying a message, numbly trying to reassure them that he was okay when he came up empty…he found himself spending more and more time surrounded by Nezumi’s books, losing himself in the words in the hopes that it would somehow bring him closer to the other teen. He wanted to hate this feeling, this never-ending longing in his chest…but he couldn’t, just as he couldn’t hate Nezumi for leaving, for walking away leaving him with the memory of that kiss…all he could do was wait, and hope…
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It had been a long time since Karma had felt as helpless as he did right now, he was used to having all the answers, to knowing what path to take. But now…now there were sobs welling up that he couldn’t stop, a pain in his chest that he didn’t understand and all that seemed to pale in comparison to the wails from Nagisa, the broken sound begging him to do something…but what? He was supposed to have been prepared for this loss, they all were…they had been waiting for it long enough, aiming for it even, and yet it hurt…it hurt more than he had ever thought possible, and he didn’t know how to make it stop. What he did know though was that he couldn’t let Nagisa mourn alone, and so slowly, painfully he crawled forwards towards the other boy. He didn’t know what to do, how to make this easier, but as soon as he was within reach he tugged Nagisa into a tight hug, letting the smaller boy burrow into him and letting his head rest against Nagisa’s…he didn’t know what to do, none of them did, but he hoped that just for now this would be enough.
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The crown was an unfamiliar weight on her head, and her fingers trembled slightly as she reached up to stop it sliding off, unable to shake the feeling that maybe it wanted to escape…maybe it realised that she wasn’t ready to wear it. She had thought that she would have years left before she had to adopt this role, even if she had given way on the marriage front years before, following her heart as she had earned the right to do…and it was only the thought of her husband that stopped her from giving into the urge to flee, he was just as unprepared as she was, but he would face this and she could do no less. But the crown slipped again, and she nearly let it fall this time before freezing…she could remember another hand, or rather a paw reaching up to straighten this very crown, nudging it back into place even though it had probably been the least important thing at the time and despite everything a chuckle rose in her throat and this time her hand was steadier when she straightened it. She still wasn’t ready to be Queen, to try and fill her mother’s shoes…but she wasn’t alone, the memories were there, her mother’s voice ringing in her ears reminding her what she needed to do and when she heard the bagpipes starting up she took a deep breath and nodded to the ghost of her mother.
I remember, and I am Queen.
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Koro-Sensei paused for a moment as he landed beside the Eiffel Tower, glancing up at the landmark before reaching for the camera that he kept hidden within his gown at all times. Whilst he had fooled everyone into thinking that his frequent trips around the world were just on a whim…which was at least partially true, his stomach growling as he thought about the world-famous patisserie that he was headed for…there was another reason for his escapades, blue seeping into his tentacles as he took several photos of the Tower and closing his eyes. He could still remember the way her eyes had lit up and the way she had spoken faster, hands moving through the air as she told him about all the places that she had wanted to visit, the things she had wanted to do, a seemingly never-ending list that he had nonetheless committed to memory. She’d lost her future that day, lost the chance to do everything she had longed to do and all he could do was try and follow in the footsteps of her words, hoping that if she was watching over him, that she would get to see the world she had dreamt of.
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He woke with a gasp, already lunging towards the shape that he could see perched on the edge of the bed, before he became aware of the fingers that had been gently moving through his hair. Barely an inch away he came to a halt, Aguri’s startled gasp making him retreat, hastily lowering his arms to show that he meant her no harm as he sucked in a deep breath.“You were tossing and turning,” she explained cautiously, moving her hand back with a hint of colour in her cheeks and he had to fight the urge to reach out and grab her hand. It had been a long time since he’d had nightmares, maybe because he’d never had cause to fear anything before…death had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, and there had never been anyone he feared losing… but now, he sighed as he studied her, trying not to imagine how he had just watched the life leeching from her eyes a moment before and averting his gaze slightly as he mumbled a reply.“It was just a dream…”
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For years, he had been an assassin, witnessing and delivering death in a variety of ways and he knew that the wounds on her body were not the kind that a normal person could come back from. He knew that, and refused to accept it. Ignoring the feel of her blood on his tentacles, the echo of her last words playing through his mind he reached out and gently nudged her.“Get up…” It was half command, half plea and he nudged her again when there was no response. He just needed to get her up, then he could get her help…the lab was gone, her fiancé was gone, she would be free to live the life she had talked about so passionately whilst keeping him company, she just needed to get up. “Aguri, get up.” Please.
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“You raised them well,” Koro-sensei smiled as he felt her presence settling beside him on the edge of the school-building, turning to look at her as she took hold of one his tentacles.“You make it sound like I was their parent and not their teacher,” he replied with a laugh, before turning his gaze back to his former students who had abandoned their work in favour of a water-fight. Not all of them had returned, and different faces came every time…and they had changed so much from the teens pinning him down that night, grown into the people he had seen in them back then and he smiled, unable to deny that the pride he felt for them went beyond that of a teacher. “Although maybe I was,” he admitted, glancing at Aguri who smiled and leant against him, chuckling as an indignant squeal reached them from down below.“I think you were a little bit of both, and that is exactly what they needed.”
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“I’m not weak!” Ishida flinched back at the shout, but his expression softened when he glanced down at her, seeing the tears on her cheeks and the way her hands had curled into fists against the ground. It was harder to ignore her injuries now that he was looking at her, and his eyes darkened…she was a mess, her reisetsu barely detectable and yet in his eyes she had never looked stronger, and he took a deep breath before crouching down in front of her.“No, you’re no.” His quiet, unfaltering agreement seemed to have stunned her and his lips quirked up in a rare smile, reaching out to ghost his fingers over the large bruise covering her cheek, before finally allowing his fingers to brush against an undamaged strip of skin. “You were the one to teach me that needing protection sometimes, does not make you weak.”
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Ishida jolted as fingers brushed against his clenched hand, and he found himself automatically bracing for an attack before he realised that there was only one person who would touch him like that. Sheepish, he lifted his head to meet Orihime’s gaze, catching the knowing look in her eyes before she glanced away with a sigh.“I’m sorry.”“Don’t apologise,” Ishida snapped, unclenching his hand so that he could twine their fingers together, relaxing when her fingers curled around his. When had he got to the point where a simple touch could startle him that much? Especially her touch? He tightened his grip, needing her to stay, to keep holding him and after a moment he felt her moving closer, leaning against his side…but this touch was welcomed, her warmth grounding him and he let out a soft sigh. “Thank you.”
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Ishida sighed as yet another group of girls erupted in giggles, and he watched as they urged one of their friends to approach Ichigo with a bag of chocolates, rolling his eyes at the surprise on the other boy’s face and the awkward way he accepted it. Surely, he should be used to it by now?“Ishida?” He jumped, cursing himself for getting distracted and trying to ignore his father’s voice as it rang through the back of his mind, blinking when he found a nervous looking Orihime standing in front of his desk with her hands hidden behind her back.“Yes?” It came out curter than he had intended, surprise making him short and he saw her falter for a moment, before gathering her courage and bringing her hands forward and now he was the one to stare, feeling colour seeping into his cheeks as she held out a bag of chocolates.“Happy Valentine’s day.”
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Terasaka grumbled under his breath as he stalked upstairs to his bedroom, trying not to let the conversation he’d just had with his mother bother him as he knew that she meant well. Whilst she had taken his relationship with Itona far better than either of them had expected, even now three years later when they came to visit she would watch them, noting how the younger always held himself apart from everyone including her son. In a way he could understand her concern, after all her own marriage had ended because they had grown apart and affection had disappeared, and she didn’t want him to end up in a similar situation. But…it isn’t the same, he thought, his frown giving way to a soft smile as he opened the bedroom door to find Itona waiting for him in the bed with an expectant expression. Quickly shedding his clothes, he slipped into bed as well, smiling as his boyfriend immediately cuddled against him…he might not be comfortable with public displays of affection, but when they were alone he was like a limpet and as Terasaka pulled him closer, he sighed with contentment.
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There had been a time when Terasaka would have believed that Itona didn’t have a clue what pressing himself so closely into his side, and letting his hands wander did to him. However, that time was long behind them and the taller man knew even without the mischievous glint in the golden eyes that met his for a moment, that he was being teased. The worst thing was that they were in public, out for a meal with his parents and surrounded by other people, which meant that he couldn’t do anything in response to Itona’s actions…it wasn’t so much the company that was stopping him, but rather his partner’s rules about public displays…rules that didn’t seem to apply to Itona, but which he had learned from painful experience that he had to obey. As he had no desire to incur Itona’s wrath or wind up sleeping on the sofa for a month like he had last time, he had no choice but to endure the teasing, biting his lip to silence himself as the gentle touches sent jolts through his body. He was going to kill Itona for this…later when there were no witnesses…and the smirk that he received a moment later told him that the smaller man was fully aware of where his thoughts had gone.
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It was always words that got them in to trouble, neither of them had ever been good at holding their tongues around the other, and it was never what they really wanted to say either…insults, threats and everything in between would fill the air when they were fighting, but never what truly lay behind their conflict or in the strange, heated glances they would share whenever they parted ways. Oddly enough it was Izaya who always had more than enough to say to everyone who had come up with the solution, one night when the heat had got too much, the fight the left behind as Shizuo had dragged him home…only for the fight to nearly restart when they tried to speak, to address the heat, and it was the dark haired informant who had reached out and laid his fingers on the blond’s lips, silencing him without a word. It had taken a moment for both of them to comprehend what he had done, and the feel the heat rising once more with words taken out of the equation and it was in silence that they came together, in a way they never could when words were at play.
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It didn’t take Dean long to pick up on the way Sam had started to tense up whenever someone lit up a cigarette near to them, or the way his brother’s long fingers would move to check that the charms against possession were still where they were supposed to be. He couldn’t really blame him, well aware that the younger man was still guilt tripping himself over what had happened when he was possessed, and made worse by what the demon had made his health freak of a brother do. At first he ignored it, hoping that if he didn’t make a big deal of it Sam would gradually get over it, or talk to him…he should have known better though, it wasn’t something that was easily forgotten and Sammy had an independent streak a mile wide at the best of times and it always seemed to get bigger when he was trying to hide something. Talking about stuff had never been Dean’s forte, he was more a man of action, but his brother had always needed the words and that was why Dean had just sat down in front of his brother and placed a pack of cigarettes down on the table between them, arching an eyebrow as Sam flinched but tried to conceal.“Are we going to talk about this Sammy?
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Sam sighed as he stepped into the motel room, lightning lighting up the room before he could even hit the light switch, letting him glimpse his brother who seemed to have passed out mid-drink at the table. It was a common sight these days whenever a storm hit, wherever they were Dean would proceed to get drunk as quickly as possible and pass out and Sam knew why…He had loved thunder and lightning once upon a time, loving to watch from the safety of the Impala’s backseat, but not it just filled him with pain and guilt and he knew that Dean felt it worse. That was why there was no irritation as he dumped his bag by the door, moving across to his brother, grateful for his added height which helped to heave Dean up and across to the bed where he deposited the older man carefully. He studied his brother for a moment before gently pulling the covers over him, patting him on the shoulder and smiling faintly at the drunken snort that met the action before rising to his feet and padding across to the window, his eyes shadowed as he stared out at the stormy sky…the same kind of sky they had stood beneath when they had last seen their father, the day he had escaped from hell.
Dad…We miss you.
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Dazai was cursing up a storm inside, wondering how it was that for someone who spent as much time waxing lyrical about love and romance as he did, that there were no words to say what he was currently feeling. It didn’t help that Atsushi was still standing there frozen from where Dazai had reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him leading, and was now staring at him with those wide, purple-gold eyes and an innocently, lost expression.“I…” Damn it…why the hell is this so hard?“I like you too…” The quiet whisper sent his thoughts skidding to a complete halt, and all he could do was stare at Atsushi with wide-eyes, unable to move as the teen suddenly shot forward and wrapped his arms around him. “I like you…”“Good...Me too,” Dazai finally managed to speak, his voice unsteady as he returned the hug and rested his head against the teen, feeling the watery smile that spread across the teen’s face from he had it buried against Dazai’s shoulder. Me too…
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Kanda had always been one to stay away from unnecessary danger, and he had learnt long ago how to spot danger before it could hit…it was one of the reasons he had managed to survive so long. It was one of the reasons he had stayed away from Allen to start with, sensing that there was a danger that he could scarcely comprehend hidden behind that innocent smile and deep, silvery gaze. Yet over time he found himself being pulled closer and closer to the younger teen, until they were practically one, and slowly the voice that had warned him the boy was dangerous faded away to a forgotten corner of his mind. It was a couple of years later as he stared into golden eyes that had replaced the silver that he loved so much, blood trickling from his chest as he struggled to breathe that he realised that he should have listened to that voice…and yet even as he felt himself beginning to slip away, he found that he was glad that for once he had lived dangerously, if only for a little while.
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Marinette smiled softly as she ran her fingers through messy blond hair, carefully staying away from the twitching ears so that she didn’t interrupt Chat’s sleep and avoiding his mask as well. They had agreed that it wasn’t time yet, and she wasn’t going to push…she was content to wait as long as she got quiet moments like this, sitting propped up in her bed with the normally hyperactive superhero sprawled in her lap and snoring softly. It was rare to see him so still and quiet, and she took advantage of it to study him with warm eyes, tracing the contours of his face and the smile that tugged at his lips even in sleep. Even with the mask in place he was handsome, and the brilliant viridian eyes currently hidden in sleep just added to the effect, and she shook her head still unable to believe that he had chosen her of all people to fall in love with.“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning in to gently press a kiss to his cheek. Thank you for being here…for choosing me…for letting me love you.
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Karma had learned a long time ago that life was a game of play pretend for Nagisa, the smaller teen using his natural talents to create a mask for the world to see…to stop them knowing what happened beneath the surface, what he was enduring at home and at school. At first he had feared that mask and what lay beneath it, later he had come to find a challenge, something that he wanted to learn everything about so that he could tear it down… that had been until he had glimpsed what lay behind it, and realised that the mask was the only protection the smaller teen had. When their friendship morphed into something more, he feared that it might be another a mask even as he used what he had learnt to read Nagisa as best as he could. He was watching the mask so closely when they were around others, that took him a long time to realise that the mask had begun to disappear when they were together and warmth had flooded him the day that he realised that there was nothing pretend about their relationship.
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Blanche sighed as she finally spotted Spark sat down at the edge of the water, the dejected slump of his shoulders telling her everything she needed to know about how he was feeling. Hesitating for a moment she fired off a quick text to Candela, hoping their third hadn’t gone too far in her search as she had a feeling that both of them were going to be needed, waiting until she got a confirmation before slipping the phone away and making her way down the beach. He must’ve known that she was there, they had learnt a long time ago that neither of them could sneak up on him, but he gave no sign that he was aware that she was there and she found herself faltering for a moment before forcing herself to move forward, settling down in the sand beside him. She didn’t speak, when he got like this words wouldn’t help…they weren’t enough to break through his doubts and uncertainties, and so she silently pressed against his side and waited. It was only a few minutes later that she heard frantic footsteps coming towards them, tilting her head just enough to see Candela rushing towards them, catching the worried expression that spread across her face as she spotted Spark and Blanche hastily shook her head in warning, and the brunette nodded in understanding. Instead she circled around to his other side and mimicked Blanche’s actions, leaning against him and just waiting him out, ignoring the sky growing darker above them as they rested their heads on his shoulders. It was nearly an hour later that he finally released a soft sigh, shifting so that his head rested against first Blanche’s and then Candela’s, his shoulders gradually rising and when he spoke, his voice was steady and calm, albeit quieter than normal.“Let’s go home…”
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Lavi hummed softly under his breath, some ancient lullaby that he had read somewhere in one of the history books the Old man forced him to memorise, enjoying the peaceful expression that had crept onto Kanda’s face. It was a rare quiet day for both of them, which was why they were sprawled on one of the sofas, the swordsman lying with his head resting in the Bookman’s lap, eyes closed as he dozed, worn out after the string of jobs they had finished. Still humming softly, he reached out and began to comb his fingers through long, dark hair, knowing that he wouldn’t normally get away with it as his partner was touchy when it came to his hair, but today Kanda didn’t react beyond nudging into his fingers. A slightly wicked grin crept across his face as he toyed with the long strands for a couple of minutes, checking that Kanda’s eyes were still shut, before beginning to gently braid the long hair…a skill he had learnt from Lenalee…nimble fingers making short work of it, the repetitive action relaxing him and he just hoped that Kanda wasn’t going to kill him when he woke up…although it would be worth it, he thought as he brushed his fingers over the sleek hair.
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If Izumo had been surprised at her insistence on going back with him after their disastrous mission at the JUNGLE party…after Fushimi’s betrayal…he didn’t show it, not even protesting when she followed him into his bedroom even though she knew there was an available guestroom. For all that he could talk incessantly and drive her up the wall at times, when it really mattered he was always there for her, and for a brief moment she gripped his wrist in thanks. No words were exchanged as they got ready for bed, Seri gratefully accepting the shirt he tossed to her, unable to resist burying her nose against it for a moment…here in the sanctuary of his room it was easier to forget their different clans and differing personalities…to just be Seri and Izumo.“Seri-chan?” The quiet question startled her and she turned to find that he climbed under the covers whilst she was lost in thought and was now waiting for, slightly pink she yanked on the shirt and slid under the covers as well, lying stiff and still for a moment…her heart beginning to race slightly, and she squeaked…although she would later deny it, as he reached out and tugged her closer with a warm chuckle, until she was lying curled against his chest. She was about to protest or pull away when she felt it, the beat of his heart beneath her ear…the way it sped up as she curled closer, and a small smile crept across her face despite everything…because here and now they were just Seri and Izumo.
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It was strange how the littlest things could trigger his memory, the slightest noise, the sound of something stirring in the walls of the house would have his head flying up, eyes wild as he glanced around, almost as though he expected Arrietty to just step out in the open. It was a foolish wish. It had been five years since he’d seen her, five years since he’d had his surgery, her hair clip hidden beneath his robe throughout…five years since he’d had a second chance at life. He’d spent the first year constantly searching for some sign of others like her, hoping, praying that he could get a message to her…to tell her it was safe to come back, to plead with her to come back. That was a wish that had long since died, now all he had left was the memories and the feelings that never quite faded, and little things that brought them surging back up to the surface.
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“Arrietty?” She turned at the sound of his voice, looking up from where she was sat on the window ledge staring out across the garden, although she always kept a wary eye out for crows after the near miss years before. Sho settled on the chair next to the window, wrapping a finger around her shoulders and lightly brushing her cheek with the tip, smiling when she leant into the touch before frowning anxiously. “What’s wrong? You’re up early.” The sun was barely above the horizon, casting the garden and surrounding countryside with a soft, hazy light that reminded him painfully of the morning that he had nearly lost her, still unable to believe his words had been enough to get through to her, to her family.“Just thinking,” Arrietty replied after a moment, before sighing as she felt his finger tense, knowing that he wasn’t going to let this go. “I heard you on the phone last night…your family are worried about you, about your future…” About you having a family… It wasn’t the first time and she knew that it wouldn’t be the last, even if they knew about her, it wouldn’t ease their worries because there were so many barriers to their future…all because of her side. She realised she had been rambling aloud when his finger tightened around her, drawing her attention up, and she was struck by the desperation in his dark eyes.“You’re the future I want.”
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Winry wanted to cry, Edward’s visits were rare enough these days and always short-lived, and yet here she was curled up in bed sick instead of being able to spend time with him. She rarely got sick and she wanted to curse the fact that it had happened now, but she lacked the energy, burying her face in her pillow as hot tears steaked down her cheeks and slowly drifting off into an uneasy sleep. When she woke, it was to the sensation of a warm body pressed against hers, gentle fingers brushing through her hair and a familiar voice murmuring silly stories of their childhood in her ear. For a few minutes, she just lay there and listened, still feeling terrible, but soothed and comforted by the words and the memories they were conjuring…memories of happier times, easier times…and eventually she rolled over to find Edward staring at her with soft eyes, colour darkening his cheeks as he pulled his hand back and she hastily reached up to grab it.“You’re going to get sick too,” it was a weak protest, she didn’t want him to leave, clinging to his hand and relieved when he pulled her closer.“I’ll risk it.”
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They were spending a rare afternoon sprawled beneath the tree outside of Winry’s workshop, Winry curled against Edward’s side with her head resting over his heart, the soft sound of his heartbeat reassuring her that he was still here despite everything that had happened. Neither of them had spoken for a while, the fact that he and Al were about to leave again looming over them, along with the constant risk that he might not come back…she wanted to plead with him to stay, and he wanted to say that he would…but neither of them said it, because they knew it couldn’t happen, not yet at least. Which was why she jumped when she felt him take her hand in his, eyes widening as she felt him slipping a ring onto her finger, and she jolted upright, glancing briefly at the simple, silver band on her finger before turning to meet soft, golden eyes.“It’s a promise ring,” he explained softly, glancing down and blushing as he ran his finger over the ring, before taking a deep breath as he forced himself to meet her gaze. “A promise that once this is all over that I will come back, and that I will stay.”
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There were times when she would watch the pair of them interacting, so different from the boys she had known growing up and yet so much closer than they had ever been, and there would be faint stirring of jealousy at the sight. She hated the feeling, knowing that there was no way she could have survived what they had been through…live with what they had done, and what they needed to do…and still be remotely the same. Yet at the same time she couldn’t quell the feeling, especially when they visited and Edward would invariably seek out his brother before her, even if the conversation was just between them…about them…There was a closeness between them, one borne of suffering and grief and shared experiences, one that she could never hope to emulate and it scared her, but she would never speak out against it, because she knew that they both needed it. And it was worth it for the times when it was just her and Edward, and those golden eyes would see her and her alone, the spark in them fanned by both her and Al.
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Winry sighed as she stepped into the study to find Al slumped over the desk, and she didn’t need to look to know that the books he was sleeping on were all about alchemy. What had been an interest when he was younger, had become an obsession since he had come back to them and she was terrified that they were going to just watch him go down the same path as before. Part of her wished that they had stopped him from continuing his studies, part of her still tempted to destroy the books even though she knew that wouldn’t stop him.“Winry?” She hadn’t realised that he’d woken and she jolted at the sleepy voice, hoping that her expression wouldn’t betray her thoughts, but from the concern in his eyes she had a feeling that was wishful thinking and she ducked her head, unable to stop the question that bubbled up.“Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to repeat the past?”“Because I have too,” he sounded more awake now, a wistful note in his voice as he glanced at the photos lining the back of the desk and Winry couldn’t help but follow his gaze, heart aching at the reminder of what he had lost. “Because this time I want to do anything better…do it right.”
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Winry sighed as she set aside the welding touch, flipping up the protective mask and swiping at the sweat she could feel dripping down her forehead before turning her attention make to the auto mail arm she had been working. Once she would have taken pride in the craftmanship, and part of her still did, but she was finding it harder and harder to muster the enthusiasm she used to have and it hurt, because in the past if anyone had asked her what she wanted from the future…this would have been her answer. She had wanted the shop to grow, wanted to become one of the best if not the best auto-mail craftsman in the country, now though…now her gaze lingered on the armour she kept in the corner, polished and covered in protective cloths, waiting for Al to come back in need of repairs. He always came back and she tried not to think about what she would do if he didn’t, because that was the future she saw now…a time when he would come back and stay, when he would see her and the life she could offer him.
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“Winry? Why won’t you look at me?” Al sounded so lost that Winry wanted to cry and yet she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Is it because…?”“No! It’s nothing like that!” Finally, she looked at him, shaking her head desperately from side to side when she saw that she was gesturing at himself, and whilst it was hard to tell with the armour she knew that he didn’t believe her, and she reached out to lay a trembling hand on his arm. “It’s just…it’s just I couldn’t protect you.”“Protect me?”“I knew,” she whispered, looking away again although she maintained her light grip on his arm, terrified that he would disappear with her words. “I knew what you were planning…I overheard you talking, but I didn’t say anything. If I had…” This might never have happened…“This wasn’t your fault.”
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“I’m sorry,” Deku murmured, moving his uninjured arm to cover his face, not wanting Tsuyu to see the tears of frustration in his eyes. He had known that he was going to be the weakest link in their team, his quirk still too much for his body to bear, but still…he had hoped to do better than this. He jumped when her hand came to rest on his shoulder, reluctantly lowering his arm when she nudged him and peering at her, startled to find her smiling down at him.“You don’t need to apologise, I knew the risk when I chose you as my partner,” she said softly. “Besides, you only had to use your quirk because I got caught. So, it’s no one’s fault.”“But…”“Come on, let’s get you healed up,” Tsuyu cut off his protest, ducking under his uninjured arm and lifting him up. “I’ll need my partner again tomorrow.” The startled look that greeted her words making her smile dim slightly, irritated that even after everything had happened, that he would still have these moments of doubt about his right to be here and tightening her hold. “Right?”
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“You should come and rest,” Tsuyu suggested softly as she came up behind Deku who was sat by the window, keeping watch even though he had already done his shift and she could make out Bakugo’s shadow in the other window, frowning at the dark shadows under Deku’s eyes as he turned to look at her. Not that she looked much better after three days of being trapped and being unable to do anything but repel their attackers for a few hours at a time, but it bothered her more to see him looking so worn down and defeated. “You can’t do everything yourself.” He had always tried to take too much on his shoulders to protect everyone around them…to protect her…and this time was no different. She scowled when he glanced away, using her tongue to tilt his chin up and force him to meet her gaze. “Depend on us a little more.” Depend on me.“But…we’re stuck here because of me.”
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Tsuyu peered around the door to the nurse’s office, well aware that they were supposed to have stayed in the classroom, but she had found herself unable to settle. All she could see was that hand reaching for her, her body refusing to listen to her commands…she had thought that she’d been terrified before, but it was nothing compared to how she had felt in that moment, certain that she was about to die. And then she’d heard Deku’s voice and seen him launching himself forward to save her…it didn’t matter that he had been stopped, that the teachers had been the one to rescue them, all she could see was the determined glint in the green eyes and hear him shouting her name. Gathering her courage, she slipped inside, noticing that one bed had been recently vacated, the blankets all rumpled, but her gaze was drawn to the other bed where Deku was curled up asleep and her expression softened, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she quietly made her way to his side. In the bed he looked so small, it was hard to believe that he’d been one of their main fights and gently she reached out, tugging the covers back over her, before brushing her fingers against his cheek.“Next time, I’ll be the one to protect you.”
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Rin hummed to himself as he checked his scribbled notes again, making sure that he had everything that he would need, entertaining himself with the thought that his brother would be surprised with the amount of effort he had put into this. Or probably not…he would probably get a lecture on how he was wasting his time, especially when they had Ukobach to cook for them and he scowled, poking at one of the spice jars as his good mood plummeted. It only lasted for a moment though because there was a clap of thunder, and he lifted his head just in time to see the familiar materialising, smiling as Ukobach came up short at the sight of him.“Worried that you’re going to lose?” He taunted with a grin. It had become a tradition of sorts that they would have a cook off every couple of weeks, because although they had reached a truce and spent a lot f time bonding over cooking, they were both determined to best the other. The chitter that greeted his words held a note of challenge and his grin broadened. “Bring it on, I’m going to win this time!”
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Rin’s steps were heavy as he slipped into his room, relieved but disappointed to find that there was no trace of his brother as he set his sword down on the desk before heading for the bathroom. He felt filthy, a feeling that seeped beneath the surface until he wasn’t sure that even a shower would help…unable to forget the way the others had looked at him, how they had backed away slightly although they had tried to hide it. He sniffled, not needing to keep it hidden since he was alone, hands trembling as he turned the shower on before pausing to look at the mirror above the basin, a full body shudder wracking him as he moved to stand in front of it. It took him a few minutes to lift his eyes to look at his reflection, terrified of what he would see…would it be the monster that he saw in those wary gazes, the flicker of blue that filled his vision whenever he let his power out…instead he found himself confronted with red-rimmed eyes, tears that he hadn’t even noticed streaming down his cheeks. He looked broken…and he couldn’t help but wonder what the others found so terrifying about someone that looked like this.
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It was silly, after everything they had been through and done together, but Rin still found himself coming up short when he passed his desk and saw the photos of himself and the others that were building up on the wall. He had always collected photos, but in the past, it had just been him and his brother and their adoptive family at the church and whilst he still had them, they were mainly hidden away in a box, a cowardly approach he knew…but it hurt to look at them all of the time. But these photos were different. They were proof that someone like him could and did have friends, proof that he had come far enough to prove himself to them…proof that those nights of sitting on his own in the local park, and unable to do anything but brawl with the other kids were behind him. Proof that he, Rin Okumura had friends.
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Himuro smiled to himself as he heard their opponents discussing their team, hearing them whispering their doubts about Yōsen’s reputation, especially after their first impression of Murasakibara had been of his teammate yelling about someone stealing his sweets. It was something that no longer worked on the teams that knew them well, because most of the players had seen how Muraskibara’s childish side largely disappeared once he was on the court, but this was a new team and he smirked. Sidling up to his taller team mate he stole the bag of crisps he had been working his way through, nimbly darting out of reach as long arms shot out to take it back.“Muro-chin…” It was meant to be a warning, but it came out as more of a whine and Himuro kept half an eye on the other team, seeing their estimation of Yōsen going down as Murasakibara staggered to his feet and tried to lunge for the bag. That’s right, underestimate us…underestimate him… He smiled up at Murasakibara who had come to a halt and was now pouting at him.“You can have them later.” When we win…
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“Here.” Himuro blinked as a brightly wrapped sweet was thrust under his nose, lifting his gaze to find Murasakibara crouched in front of him. The expression on his boyfriend’s face was one that was usually reserved for serious matches, or the times that the local shop ran out of his favourite snacks and he blinked, oddly touched that the childish idiot would put his disappointment at not being able to play in the next match because of his ankle on the same level.“Thank you.” He murmured, smiling properly as he reached out and took the sweet, noticing how Muraskibara’s fingers twitched for a moment as though to protect it. His expression softened as he realised that it was one of the other teen’s favourite and when he unwrapped it he carefully snapped it in half, holding one half out and laughing at the speed with which it was snatched.
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Himuro froze as he heard a loud crash from the other aisle, already knowing who it was even before he turned around and noticed the absence of Muraskibara’s towering form. Cursing he hurried around to the aisle just in time to hear his boyfriend’s voice rising in a peevish tone, and he blinked as he took in the sight of him buried under a pile of tins, although he didn’t fail to notice that Murasakibara still had a tight hold on the crisps he had clearly been reaching for.“Idiot,” he muttered fondly as he moved to help him, dodging a swinging arm as Murasakibara tried to push himself up. “Are you hurt?” The other teen seemed more concerned about his snacks, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything as Himuro had learnt the hard way, and he really didn’t want to have to explain to the captain why their star player couldn’t play over a bag of crisps.
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“I’m not sick,”“Yes, you are.” Himuro countered firmly, already knowing that the words were going to fall on deaf ears just as they had been all day since his boyfriend had staggered into school looking like deaf warmed up. But whilst he hadn’t minded too much whilst they were in class, although he could feel some tedious hours of going back over what Murasakibara had missed, there was no way he was willing to let the idiot make himself worse by going to practice.“No, I’m…”“You’re not going to practice or so help me, I’m going to empty all your snacks out your locker and give them away to the rest of the team!” It was a low blow and he knew it, especially when purple eyes darkened, but before the tantrum that he could see coming could form, Murasakibara doubled over with a fit of sneezing and he sighed. “I’ll take that as agreement then.”
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“I thought you were dead!” Bon snarled, not turning to look at Rin who had just slipped into room, knowing that no one else would have dared disturb him after the way he’d stormed out of the infirmary earlier. The other reason he wasn’t looking was because he didn’t want to see the bandages, the stitches, the evidence of the hell that Rin had managed to survive to come back to him…the hell that he had been left to survive on his own because they had been deceived and made to think that Rin was gone, his hands curling into fists in his lap. “I left you behind and…” He was cut off by arms wrapping around him and for half a second he wanted to fight, feeling as though he didn’t deserve this, but then it registered that Rin was trembling, whispering apologies that he didn’t need to give and Bon growled. Twisting, making sure not to shake Rin off he moved so that he could wrap his arms around Rin, something he had thought he was never going to get the chance to do again, beginning to tremble as he finally met haunted blue eyes. “I’m the one that should apologies, I should have known you weren’t gone.”
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Toshinori roused to the scent of very strong coffee mixed in with the unfortunately familiar smell of the infirmary. It took him a couple of minutes to coax his eyes open, and a few too many blinks to clear his vision before Aizawa slowly swam into view, too close for him to ignore the exhaustion in his partner’s face, the poorly hidden worry. However, right now his attention was quickly captured by the steaming mug that his partner was clasping in his hands and he couldn’t resist croaking. “Where’s mine?” Aizawa didn’t jump, or even look surprised by the question, but the glare he aimed at Toshinori was less than happy as he pulled the mug closer.“Idiots who can’t even remember their own limitations don’t get coffee.”
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Karma scowled as he watched Nagisa pouring over the book about teaching that Koro-Sensei had slipped him that morning. On the one hand he was glad to see that the spark had returned to Nagisa’s eyes, a smile tugging on the other boy’s lips as he flipped the pages, but on the other he found himself facing the dawning realisation that they were setting out on different paths. It wasn’t something that he had really considered before, and before everything that had brought them together in 3E in might not have affected him, but now… His hands curled into fists under the desk, the future suddenly seeming less bright than it had when he had so confidently told their teacher his plans, something unpleasant curling in his stomach at the thought of Nagisa not being there. I don’t want to say goodbye.
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Nagisa was gone. They had both known that it was a risk, especially when you rose as high and fast as Nagisa had in the Assassin world, and yet… Karma blinked, but there were no more tears to hold back, his eyes dry as he stared at the shrine he had set up, gaze locked on the smiling picture in the middle. Nagisa had made it home, had forced himself to keep his promise to always return even though he had been bleeding out even as he fell into Karma’s arms. Idiot, Karma snarled, wrenching his gaze away from the photo as his hands fisted in his lap. He was angry, but he refused to be angry at Nagisa, instead his gaze turned to the letter in his lap, and the name highlighted at the top, amber gaze darkening as he memorised it. He would make them pay.
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Lavi let out an exasperated sigh as he slipped into Allen’s room to find his boyfriend sprawled across the bed, half in and half out of the covers. Allen never seemed to feel the cold when he slept like this, which was most nights but as soon as Lavi joined him under the covers he would latch onto the new source of warmth as though his life depended on it. Lavi didn’t mind the cuddling, hell it made up for Allen’s skittishness during the day when they were surrounded by people. What he didn’t appreciate was the cold limbs that would wrap around him, the cold toes that would nudge against his legs, sucking up his warmth and leaving him shivering. Still it wasn’t enough to stop him from stripping down and padding across to the bed, gently nudging Allen across so that he could slip into bed, holding his breath as Allen grumbled and promptly rolled over and reached for him.
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Lavi flinched as Allen’s fingers brushed against his cheeks, half-expecting to be struck, but when he looked up he was met with warm, silver eyes and a soft, understanding smile as Allen met his gaze.“It’s okay,” there was only the faintest of wavers in Allen’s voice to belie his words, but his fingers were steady as he cupped Lavi’s cheeks. “I know you can’t say it, that you might never be able to say it… and it’s okay, I’ll wait, even if it can never happen.” Lavi didn’t want that promise, didn’t want to tie Allen to a Bookman who might never be free to return his affections, but he couldn’t bring himself to protest as the words and Allen’s touch filled him warmth and a strange feeling that it took him a few minutes to name. Acceptance, in a few simple words and with a gentle touch he had given Lavi something he had never had before, and he felt his eyes beginning to burn as he leant into Allen’s touch.“T-thank you.”
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It had been there since they had first met Hayama realised, biting at his lip as he studied Soma’s slumped shoulders and bowed head, itching to do something, but not knowing what. It had been so easy to dismiss the thing between them as mere competitiveness, and to be honest he knew that was still a large part of it, but it wasn’t enough to explain the ache in his chest as he realised that Soma was starting to shake. It wasn’t the right time for realization like this he knew, hands curling into fists at his side, and he wanted to curse himself for working it out now. Instead he moved forwards, knowing that he couldn’t act on it just yet, but unable to just stand there and ignore the sobs now wracking the shorter teen and his hands were surprisingly steady as he reached for Soma, ignoring the soft protest as he drew him into a tight hug.
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Kanda had feared that the shift in their relationship would be a distraction, a vulnerability that they could ill afford with the war escalating around them. He feared the rush of emotion, he refused to acknowledge it as fear, when he watched Lavi barely avoiding the attack. He feared the way his resolve, his focus could crack and shatter at the slightest hint of the other man in danger, the way he would rush in and risk everything, everyone, just to protect Lavi. He feared it the change, and yet he loved it at the same time. He loved the way they could move together now, whether in peace or battle, a dance that that could be beautiful or deadly, a dance that kept Lavi returning to him and vice versa.
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Jack woke with a gasp, tears already turning to ice against his cheeks as he looked around wildly, half expecting to find himself back by the frozen lake with children running blindly past him…with her looking blindly through him. Instead he caught a fleeting glimpse of velvet curtains, the material covered in an intricate layer of ice before his attention was captured by the green eyes that met and held his gaze, that saw him. “You see me…” Rapunzel nodded and made to move closer, only for pain to flicker across her face and Jack immediately stiffened, his eyes darting down to the hands that he now realised were clinging to his, hands that were red and raw to look at and he shrank back, snatching his hands away. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, his ice trying to protect him when he was at his most vulnerable, only to burn the person trying to help him…and now it had burnt her.
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A numb feeling crept over Ochako as she slowly rose to her feet, hair hanging over her face and obscuring it from sight, her hands curling into fists at her side as she stared at Izuku for another long moment, fixated on the sight of the lifeless, green eyes still focused on the sky above them. There was grief, pain so bad that it should have been tearing her apart, but right now it was distant, held at bay by the fury bubbling up in her chest.“How could you?” Her voice is foreign to her own ears, her body feeling as though it was on fire as her power welled up and slowly she turned around, ignoring the others as they tried to call to her…tried to stop her…lifting her head to fix the villains with dark, stormy eyes. “How could you?” There’s a brief moment of silence and then one of them laughs, and she snaps, not caring about conserving her power as she lets it flow…tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks as they’re forced to the ground, the earth crumbling as she pushes them further and further down, determined to crush them, to punish them for the pain that is starting to break through the fury.
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Chloe had been chasing him around all day trying to trap him under the mistletoe, and it was only Plagg that had stopped her from catching him the last few times. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss her, they had been going out long enough for him to want to take that step, but it was going to be their first kiss and he didn’t want it to be because of some silly Christmas tradition. His view on the matter changed after the Akuma attack…it wasn’t rare for her to end up in the middle of the mess, but this time he had been a hair’s breadth too slow, and for a moment he had forgotten to breathe when she had been sent flying…only his partner’s quick thinking saving her from a fall, and he had barely been able to hold himself together until the end of the fight, slipping away to transform with barely a farewell.“Chloe…” He had barely waited long enough to toss some camembert to Plagg before rushing out to his girlfriend, yanking her into a tight hug, feeling her trembling violently at the near miss…before pulling back and gripping her face, leaning in and slowly, tenderly capturing her lips in a kiss.
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Months of keeping the change in their relationship, masked by half-feigned irritation and insults went to pieces in a matter of minutes. Kageyama had known that there was no way Oikawa was going to be able to stay away from the finals, and to be honest he hadn’t wanted him to do, it was reassuring to know he was there watching…silently cheering him on. He just hadn’t expected the idiot to come tearing down onto the court at the end of the match, his usual smirk replaced by a warm grin as he practically pounced on Kageyama…the tight hug could have been explained away by relief…the somewhat heated kiss that followed couldn’t, and Kageyama could hear the stunned silence spreading around them, his cheeks colouring as he realised that the cameras were still filming and with a growl he pushed Oikawa away…pleased to see that the older teen was red as well as he realised what he had done, and somehow the sight had Kageyama drawing in a relaxing breath before stating more mildly that he had ever thought possible.“I think you just announced it to the whole world…”
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Kageyama growled under his breath as he was woken at the crack of dawn by the sound of his phone chiming somewhere near his head, blearily he searched for it, swearing that he was going to kill Hinata if the idiot was getting wound up about their upcoming match at this time of morning…however, those thoughts along with all traces of sleep disappeared the moment Oikawa’s name flashed up on the message screen. How long has it been? He still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t got around to deleting the older teen’s number from his phone, and he had assumed that Oikawa had long since erased his, but there was no mistaking the name on the screen and his fingers were clumsy as he opened the message.
Good Luck…Tobio-chan.
He blinked in shock at the simple message, checking it several times as though expecting the words to change if he looked away long enough…but no, the words remained the same and there was a strange, fluttery feeling as he realised that Oikawa was seriously wishing him luck for the match against Shiratorizawa and it took him several to type a reply.
Thank you…
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Kageyama took attempts at a deep breath as he followed the others forward for their turn to warm up, one hand hidden in his pocket as he played with the tiny volleyball charm that Oikawa had slipped into his hand the night before…for luck he had said, and at the time Kageyama had scoffed. He had been riding high on the fact that had beaten his boyfriend and their team and the fact that Karasuno was finally going to finals again, and he didn’t want to think about relying on something as fickle as luck in the next match. That had been until he had seen that spike slam into the ground…a spike that had hit with such force that it had bounced up into the crowd, and suddenly it had dawned on him that Oikawa had been right…they were going to need all the luck they could get. He refused to admit that the fact that his boyfriend had actually been able to think that far ahead in the wake of his defeat, or that he gone so far as to pass on the charm that Kageyama had once bought him was giving him a warm feeling…buoying his spirits even if it didn’t end up giving them luck in the long run. Still as he took in the stunned expressions that met Hinata’s spikes a few minutes later, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Oikawa’s gift did have a magic of its own.
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Kageyama’s thoughts had officially short-circuited and he was vaguely aware of the fact that he must look like an idiot as he gaped at Oikawa, but there was nothing he could do about it right now, not with ‘You won Tobio-chan…good job’ still ringing in his ears. Aside from the odd backhanded compliment that he had accidently overheard when they were at school together, he had never actually heard the older teen give him honest praise…even when they had started dating Oikawa had been relentless, pushing them both to their limits and beyond, refusing to let Kageyama leave him behind and determined to stop the younger teen from falling back into bad habits. Not once had he said something like that with an honest smile, his eyes lighter than he had ever seen him and Kageyama had no idea how to react…or at least not until Oikawa frowned in concern and waved a hand in his face, and he finally found his voice.“Is it a blue moon….?”
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Oikawa smirked as he drew Kageyama closer against his side, taking advantage of the fact that the younger teen was still asleep to snuggle with him, relishing the lack of barriers between them. He knew that a lot of it was his own fault, he had been the first one to grow distant, pulling back from Kageyama and leaving the younger King to fall on his own…he just hadn’t expected Kageyama to return the favour, pulling back until all that remained between them was insults, angry words that neither of them really met and fear that they might never be able to bridge the distance they had both created. Karasuno had changed all that. It had changed Kageyama, and Oikawa had been forced to change as a result…the dance of wins and losses forcing them to confront each other face on, and seeing the younger teen shining bright in the finals had made Oikawa realise that he didn’t what to be distant anymore…that had been the day he had finally chased after the younger teen, and now months later he had to say that it had been the best decision he had ever made…
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Kageyama wanted to growl at his boyfriend as he fussed around him, it wasn’t the first time he’d had a nosebleed and it wasn’t going to be the last, but there was something about the wide, amber eyes that stopped him. Instead he quietly accepted the tissue that Hinata was trying to hand him, grimacing as he pressed it against his nose, blood escaping in the brief moment that he released the pressure. Before he could do anything about it though Hinata was already pouring some water on another tissue, reaching up with surprisingly gentle fingers to clean up as best as he could without disturbing Kageyama’s grip on his nose.“Don’t…I can…” Kageyama muttered, voice muffled and he blinked when Hinata huffed and shook his head, looking as though he was a moment away from stamping his foot.“I want to help.” I need to help…
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Kageyama woke to the sound of giggling, nose wrinkling at the unfamiliar sound and the fact that he could still feel Hinata curled against his chest. It was when he heard the sound of a camera going off that he opened his eyes, blinking as he lifted his head and promptly felt himself turning bright red as he found Natsu and Mrs. Hinata watching them…eyes darting to the camera in the latter’s hands with more than a little alarm.“Sorry,” she smiled at him, all warmth and soothing words. “You’re very sweet together and Shoyou won’t usually stay still long enough for me to get photos.” Kageyama could well believe that, remembering their manager’s exasperation when they were trying to get a team photo…but that was with the team, this was his boyfriend’s mother! But the fact that she had said they looked ‘sweet’ together had his expression softening, even as he felt his blush intensifying.“It’s okay… but can I get a copy of the photo?”
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“You’re lucky you have a hard head,” Kageyama grumbled as he helped Hinata across to the bench, trying not to focus on the way his boyfriend was wincing or red darkening his skin where yet another ball had slammed into his face. He knew that other teen could probably get straight back on the court, hell he had done it enough times before, but he was also relieved when Daichi had insisted on Hinata taking a break whilst they gave some of the others time on the court.“I’m fine, I can play!” Hinata was finally shaking off his shock, immediately looking back at the court with longing and Kageyama sighed, even now he knew that Hinata was terrified of losing his place on the court. “Kageyama…”“We’re just having a breather, we’ll be back on soon enough and we’ll win,” Kageyama replied pushing the smaller teen down onto the bench, putting deliberate emphasis on the ‘we’, pleased to see his boyfriend beginning to settle when he realised what Kageyama was saying.
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“I would have thought that you were used to failure by now.” Hinata froze at the words, ones that he had heard far too many times since he’d first decided that he was going to play Volleyball, but which he’d always been able to brush off. Today though the usual reassurances he would give himself wouldn’t come, his mind completely blank as he struggled to come up with a retort, seeing the triumph slowly crossing their opponent’s face as the silence stretched on.“I…”“We’re all used to failure,” Kageyama arrived in a flurry of sharp words, glaring darkly at the other player even as he wrapped around Hinata’s shoulders, the only display of affection he would allow in front of a stranger…but it was enough. “It’s how we’ve got this far and why we’ve grown strong enough to beat you, and believe me Hinata is strong enough to defeat you.”
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Kageyama squirmed awkwardly, wondering what he could say to end this encounter and get back to Hinata and practice without causing offence, although he was fairly sure his eyes had glazed over several minutes ago as the girl rambled at him. When she’d first appeared, he’d thought that it was a confession and he had been ready to let her down gently, but instead she was a fan who wanted to talk about volleyball and setting…which had been great for a few minutes…but she wouldn’t stop talking, and seemed oblivious to Kageyama’s restlessness.“Kageyama!” He grunted as a familiar weight slammed into his back, instinctively reaching up to trap Hinata’s legs and stop him from falling backwards, grunting in protest although in reality he had never been so glad to see his boyfriend. “Daichi says he wants you in the gym…now!” Inside he was doing a happy jig, even when he noticed the jealous undertone to Hinata’s voice, but he tempered both his responses shooting the girl an apologetic look despite the glare she was levelling at Hinata. “Sorry, the Captain is calling,” he didn’t even wait for her to reply, holding on to Hinata and beating a hasty retreat back towards the gym.
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Kageyama saw the pain, the jealousy and more importantly…to him at least…the fear that flickered across Hinata’s face at the end of the match when everyone gathered around him, praising his performance and excited by the fact that the scouts had seemed pleased with him as well. He couldn’t pay attention to them though, noticing as Hinata slipped out of the gym, the wayward ginger mop making it impossible to miss and as soon as he could he followed. He knew what was wrong, he just didn’t know how to fix it…in his mind Hinata deserved the spotlight far more than he did, his partner had grown beyond anything he had ever thought possible and yet time and time again he seemed to be the only one who could see how good he was, how perfect and he wished that he knew how to make the others see it too. He was surprised but relieved to find Hinata waiting on him outside, usually he would have found somewhere to hide by now, but today he lunged at him, demanding a hug and Kageyama willingly gave into the silent demand, wrapping his arms tightly around him.“One day they’ll see,” he murmured, not expecting a response, but feeling the shudder that met his words and silently vowing that he would make sure of it.
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“Here,” Kageyama muttered as he held the bottle out to Hinata, the older blinking up at him wearily, taking a moment to understand what was being offered before grabbing the bottle and beginning to gulp down the water even before Kageyama had sunk to the ground beside him. “Slow down idiot,” he added, frowning as Hinata spluttered slightly before thankfully slowing down.“You need to drink as well,” Hinata muttered a moment later, holding the bottle out as he realised that Kageyama had forgotten his own bottle…blinking when Kageyama turned bright red at the offer, nearly dropping the bottle when he finally reached out to take it. “Are you okay?”“I..I’m fine,” Kageyama growled, turning redder as he stumbled over his own words, staring wide-eyed at the bottle for a moment…before glancing at Hinata who was watching him with growing concern, and taking a deep breath he took a gulp of water, fairly sure there must be steam coming out of his ears by now and waiting for the small boy to say something. An i-indirect kiss…I’m sharing his bottle…he drank from this….
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Kageyama waited until the last of their teammates had left the changing room before whirling and yanking Hinata into a tight hug, pressing a kiss into sweaty hair and closing his eyes when he felt the smaller boy slowly returning the hug. He had promised himself that if they made the nationals then he was going to confess, he just hadn’t expected his words to abandon him completely…a wild surge of courage and panic making him act before he even knew what he was doing…but Hinata wasn’t pushing him away, if anything the hug was growing in strength and when he dared look down he found Hinata staring at him with wide, golden eyes.“K…Tobio?”“I…” Damn it, the words still wouldn’t come out, but there was something akin to understanding in Hinata’s expression, the smaller boy’s cheeks turning decidedly pink as he worried at his bottom lip for a moment…probably having no idea what that sight was doing to Kageyama.“Me too.” It took a moment for the whispered words to register, and Kageyama felt his eyes widening, searching the other boy’s expression to make sure they were actually on the same page…but there was a glint in the other’s eyes that had nothing to do with volleyball, and hesitantly he leant forward, pressing their lips together and his stomach did flipflops as he felt Hinata eagerly responding. Yeah…me too…
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Hinata sighed as he glanced across at Kageyama, the setter was bickering with Tsuki about something and downing his water, completely oblivious to the fact that Hinata was there…but that summed up the other boy at the moment, at least in Hinata’s mind. It had been nearly two months since he had finally worked out that he had a crush on the other boy, and he had been doing everything in his power to drop hints for Kageyama…hell he had probably done everything but shout the words out, or kiss him, he turned red at that thought, remembering how Kuroo had dared him to do just that. But Kageyama gave no sign that he was getting the hints, and Hinata never patient at the best of times, was fast running out of patience…there was only so slow on the uptake someone could be. Right? He blinked, realising that Kageyama was looking at him now, frowning and he suddenly he felt everything boiling over…he wanted the idiot to understand, even if it all went pair-shaped, and he knew a break wasn’t the best time to do it, but he was on his feet and marching across to the other boy…completely blind to the knowing looks from the rest of the team.“KAGEYAMA! I LIKE YOU!”
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“Sit down,” Kageyama ordered, pushing Hinata down next to the campfire, waving off the others who were beginning to crowd around in concern at the sight of a soaking wet Hinata…making sure that the other boy had no intention of moving before rushing to their tent for a towel and some dry clothes, grabbing one of his hoodies to be safe. “Idiot,” he scolded when he returned, concern colouring his voice as he saw the shivers wracking the other boy despite being so close to the fire. Ignoring Hinata’s protests he helped him strip out of the sodden clothes, yanking on the dry ones as fast as he could, a faint smile appearing as he took in how his hoodie buried the other boy, before setting to work on drying the ginger locks. He could feel the curious stares, and he knew that he was going to get teased for fussing so much… but as the shivers were starting to stop he didn’t care, not that, that stopped him from dropping Hinata in it when Suga finally broke the silence to ask what happened. “The idiot was trying to show me a jump…and landed in the stream…”
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The red thread, Keiji realised was a promise, just one that he couldn’t remember making. All he knew was that he saw it dancing in the corner of his eye the first time Hajime had stepped onto the court, and he had faltered, unable to do anything but track its path across to the other boy. It felt familiar, like a path he had walked a thousand times before, and yet raw, and new as their gazes met and then shied away, as though it was too soon for them to meet. There were voices raised around them, feet pounding against the court and he had to tear his gaze away, but the red thread remained, and he found himself having to look back. Olive eyes met his, a more lingering gaze this time, before their view of each other was obscured by their teammates, and he let himself be drawn away by Bokuto’s enthusiasm because there had been a promise in that gaze and in the fluttering red thread. One that said, soon…
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It had been an accident, Hajime tripping over a dip in the pavement, and automatically reaching out for the closest thing to stop him falling over, which had been his boyfriend. Keiji had staggered but managed to balance them both, only to stiffen as he realised where Iwaizumi’s fingers had landed, one hand grabbing desperately at his side. Oh no, the fingers tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to tickle and he could feel the laugh bubbling up in the back of his throat before he could even think about pulling away. Then there was no stopping it, as the chuckle became a giggle, Hajime’s fingers jerking against him in surprise which made it ten times worse, and then he caught a glimpse of his boyfriend’s expression as the other teen stared at him in wonder. Somehow, something was endearing about the wide-eyed stare, and even as the fingers slipped away from his ticklish spot, he couldn’t stop laughing.
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There first valentines day was spent on the court, battle lines drawn as they fought for their place in the finals, and only a brief shared glance at half-time conveyed that it was just a match. Their second was spent in Hajime’s room, reading old comics and watching superhero movies, as Hajime had sprained his ankle during practice putting a kybosh on what plans they’d made. Their third valentines day was spent in the college library, with an opened box of valentines chocolates scattered on the table between empty coffee cups as they worked on the project they had left to the last minute. Their fourth valentines day was spent at a restaurant they had saved for months to visit, with fine food and candlelight, and quiet glances and tender kisses. Their fifth valentines day ended on the riverbank beneath the starlit sky, with Hajime on one knee and a ring box held with trembling hands as a tremulous smile spread across Keiji’s face as he whispered his acceptance.
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Victor was quiet as he slipped back into their bedroom, unsurprised to find that Yuri had fallen asleep in the time that he had been in the bathroom, exhausted after the flight to Russia and the stress of arriving at the same time as the removal men. Shushing Makkachin who had perked up at his return, he padded across to the bed, taking a moment to savour the sight of his partner curled up in their bed before slipping under the covers as well, waiting for the poodle to settle before gathering Yuri close. He was tired too, but his eyes were reluctant to close and he found himself strangely content to just lie there, listening to Yuri’s breathing and playing with his hair, Makkachin’s snuffling a soothing background accompaniment. They had slept like this many times, but there was something new and exciting about it this time, and it was only let his gaze drift around his room that he realised what it was. He had lived in this flat for years now, but it had always felt empty, more a place to eat and sleep than a home, but tonight…tonight it felt like he belonged here, it felt like home and he knew that feeling came from the man now snoring softly against his chest.
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He jolted awake with a shout, breathing harshly as he automatically turned to the other side of the bed needing to see Yuri, to hold him and remind himself that he wasn’t alone anymore. Instead he found himself coming up short when he realised that the other side of the bed was empty, Makkachin lifting his head to look at him, wagging his tail, oblivious to Victor’s panic. It took a moment for his mind to catch up, the nightmare making it hard to focus, a defeated sigh escaping when he remembered that Yuri had gone home to visit his mother who had taken ill. Victor would have gone with him, but his debut was only days away and he needed to practice, but right now he wished that he gone anyway, because the bed… no the entire house was too big without his partner, and he couldn’t help but shiver as the nightmare came back to him. Logically he knew that Yuri was coming back, probably sooner than he should and that he had plenty of people here in Russia, but it was hard to be logical without Yuri there to ground him and he found himself reaching for his phone, needing to hear his voice even if it was only going to be yelling at him for calling at this time.
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Yuri shifted from foot to foot, trying not to listen to the cheers coming from the rink, his knuckles turning white from where he was clutching the rail. He hated that he still got like this, even three years of training with Victor hadn’t managed to cure him of his nervousness…not even the fact that he had finally got gold last year seemed to help, his stomach churning as he heard Yurio’s name being called…only a few more minutes and it would be his turn, a few more minutes before…“Yuri.” In the past, the arms that slid around his waist would have made him jump and babble with fresh nerves, now though they felt like the best thing in the world and he willingly let Victor pull him back until he was resting against his chest. “Nervous?” There was no disapproval, and none of the sternness that he had tried to use in their first grand prix and that allowed Yuri to nod without fearing his reaction, sighing when Victor twined their fingers together, lifting his hand to kiss the ring that had long since been joined by another one, and a small smile flickered across his face. It was Victor’s way of reminding him of how much he…they…had already achieved, and whilst he was still nervous, nothing would ever change that, he relaxed, knowing that Victor would be there even if he screwed up completely.
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“Yuri…stay with me,” Victor pleaded as he stared up at his boyfriend, well aware that they both had training today and whilst there was no way he could go, he shouldn’t stop Yuri from going…but selfish enough to want him to stay. He felt awful, too hot and then too cold and yet Yuri’s hand which was still resting against his forehead felt perfect and he leaned into the touch. “Please…” The hand disappeared and he let out a whine of disappoint, knowing that he shouldn’t act like that, after all he had been the one to drag Yuri back into skate and he blinked in surprise when the bed dipped and Yuri settled beside him. “Yuri?”“Just go back to sleep,” Yuri ordered, flustered in the face of the dazzling smile he was being given, uncomplaining when Victor promptly latched onto him, lying across his chest to stop him from escaping not that he’d had any intention of going anywhere. Idiot, as though I would leave you alone when you’re like this….
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Emil took a deep breath as he glanced out at the window at the plane sat on the runway waiting for them, shifting nervously from foot to foot as he waited for Sara to return. He could scarcely believe that he had finally managed to ask her out, let alone convince her to go on holiday with alone and…his thoughts cut off as he heard a familiar voice yelling behind them. Before he could turn though a hand clamped onto his arm and he found himself being yanked forwards, stumbling for a moment, eyes widening as he realised that it was Sara and that she was dragging him after her with a determined glint in her eyes.“SARA!” The shout told him why and he risked a glance over his shoulder to see Michele chasing them, looking as though he was about to either burst into tears or hit him for being so close to his sister, and now Emil was the one pulling them towards the gate and the safety of the plane.
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“Are you coming?” Sara asked, pausing in the doorway and looking back at him and Emil ducked his head as he realised that he could feel a blush creeping across his cheeks. It had been the same ever since they arrived, he seemed to get flustered at the slightest thing even though things were still the same as before… only they weren’t. He blinked, glancing around, once again taken aback by the silence when normally he would be getting shouted at for being so close to her if not pushed away, and a slow grin crossed his face. They were alone, that was the difference and taking a deep breath, determined not to mess up the holiday and wanting to make the most of their time without Michele watching over them he lifted his head and nodded.
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Victor was fairly sure that it was a sound that would stay with him for the rest of his life. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it, if you spent as much time on the ice as he did then you were bound witness some nasty falls and he’d experienced a fair few too. But this was different…because this time it was Yuri, his beautiful Yuri who had fallen, their eyes meeting long enough for him to catch the fear in his partner’s and then that terrifying sound of Yuri’s head hitting the ice. The silence that followed was worse, because Yuri wasn’t moving….no one was moving, too stunned by what had happened, which meant that there was nothing to distract Victor from the sight of blood beginning to pool beneath Yuri. In the end it was Yuri that broke the silence, stirring weakly, a pained noise that shook Victor to the core slipping free and then everyone was moving, sound erupting around them…but all Victor could hear was the sound of Yuri hitting the ice.
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Yata blinked back angry tears as he took shelter under an awning, ignoring the persistent beeping from his PDA, knowing that it would be Fushimi’s number flashing on the screen. He wasn’t ready to speak to Saru again just yet, unable to forget the harsh words they’d exchanged a couple of words ago, barbs that he’d been able to brush aside when they’d been ‘enemies’ seeming to cut ten times worse this time. He’d known that they still had a long way to go, that it was going to take time to get back to where they’d been, and that there was no magical cure for the damage that had been done. He’d known that, but he hadn’t been ready for this set back, unprepared for the sting of Saru’s words or for his own decision to flee rather than fight, and he had no idea what to do next.
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Fushimi cursed as he watched Misaki’s eyes flickering again, threatening to close and stay shut, and he was more forceful this time as he clamped down on the wound. He wanted to retch at the feel of blood on his fingers, Misaki’s blood, wondering how he could ever have wished for it as he used his knee to gently nudge Misaki. “Don’t you dare close your eyes,” he ordered, or meant to, the words coming out more pleading than anything else, forcing himself not to flinch as Misaki whimpered at the increased pressure on his side. Where were the others? He wanted to look, but he didn’t dare take his eyes of Misaki for even a second as the smaller teen shivered, weakly trying to pull away from his hands, eyes still threatening to close.
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Yata’s cheeks were burning as he let Fushimi guide him around the dancefloor, not sure if he was more surprised by the fact that Saru had asked, or that he could dance. Yata, for all his grace on his skateboard, had two left feet on the dancefloor something he was sure Fushimi must remember from the disaster of their school dance and considering they were under the watchful eyes of Scepter 4 he was surprised Saru was risking the embarrassment.“It’s our song…” His surprise must have been showing on his face, because Fushimi paused for a moment, hands lingering on Yata’s hips. Now that he wasn’t focused on trying not to stand on his partner’s feet, Yata tilted his head, focusing on the music, a smile creeping onto his face as he recognised the song they had listened to on repeat back when they had first become friends… the same song he had been listening to the day Fushimi had appeared at his side and stolen a headphone from him, shooting him a look that had stopped his protests before they could fully form.
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“Idiot,” Fushimi’s voice was gentle despite the insult, openly worried as he drew Yata away from the water’s edge as the rest of Scepter 4 moved in to secure the Strain, taking the opportunity to check for any injuries. He’d nearly had a heart attack when Yata had hurtled into the midst of the fight, knocking the Strain aside when she had been getting the upper hand over Fushimi, only for her to grab hold of the vanguard as she tumbled down the slope and into the river, dragging him under the water with her.“I-I’m fine…j-just wet,” Yata stuttered as he batted Fushimi’s hands away with all the strength of a newborn kitten, teeth chattering, and the Blue tsked and let him go. Ignoring Yata’s protests he shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the vanguard’s shoulders and trying to ignore the sudden thought that Yata should wear his uniform more often.“That’s what you get for going for a swim in December,” he muttered instead, colouring slightly as he looked away, but he didn’t protest when Yata moved closer, letting the smaller teen curl into his side for warmth.
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Yata blinked in surprise as he finished tearing the away the wrapping paper to reveal a plain, red leather book and he frowned as he studied it, wondering whether this was meant to be a jab at his intelligence. Fushimi sighed, settling beside him on the couch and nudging him. “Look inside.” Yata obeyed, flicking the cover open and feeling his mouth dropping open as he realised that it was a photo album, eyes stinging slightly as he found himself staring at pictures from their high school days…photos that he thought had been destroyed a long time ago, and he was trembling as he glanced at Fushimi.“You kept them?”“Of course.”
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Yata grimaced as he gulped down another mouthful of coffee, even all the sugar and milk he’d piled into it barely made it palatable and the temptation to just pour it down the sink was nearly overwhelming, instead he took another mouthful and shuddered at the taste. He had never seen what Saruhiko liked so much about coffee, yet another thing they disagreed on, but right now it was the only thing helping to keep him awake after a long day. He knew that he could have just gone to bed, Saru would understand, but it felt like forever since they’d spent an evening together as Scepter 4 had been kept busy due to a recent upsurge in crime and HOMRA had been struggling to keep their own area peaceful and so he kept gulping it down despite the taste.“What are you doing?” The sudden voice had him jumping, cursing as he spilt some of the burning liquid down his front, but the pain was forgotten as he looked up to see a weary Fushimi leaning on the doorway, watching him with a bemused expression.
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“Stop fighting me,” Yata scolded, breathing heavily as he deflected Fushimi’s fists yet again, not even sure that his voice let alone his words were registering right now. Biting his lip, he glanced at the door to the bathroom where he had been trying to get Saru to for the last few minutes, knowing that he needed to get the fever down, it had been a daunting task at the start…now it seemed impossible. A startled yelp of pain was forced from his lips as Fushimi lashed out again, taking advantage of his distraction and catching the edge of his cheek. “Damn it you idiot, I told you that you were ill…and you still had to go to work and make yourself worse,” Yata couldn’t even feign anger, voice trailing off in concern as he studied Fushimi’s flushed cheeks and overly bright eyes.
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“They fought dirty,” was Yata’s explanation when Fushimi arrived to collect him from the emergency room, the Blue’s aura instantly flaring as he took in the vanguard’s state. Yata had caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom and grimaced, knowing that the stitches, plasters and the bandage wrapped around his wrist made him look a mess. Seeing Fushimi’s rapidly darkening expression, not sure whether the anger was aimed at his opponent or for him getting in this mess, he tried to head off the incoming explosion with humour, offering him a grin that was ruined by the traces of blood on his lip. “You should see the other…” He was cut off as he pulled into a surprisingly gentle hug, falling silent as he realised that Fushimi was trembling, his aura still flickering around him and he returned the hug. “I’m okay.”
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It was only when something warm and wet splattered across his face that Fushimi came back to himself, feeling dizzy and confused as he stumbled back, a knife that he couldn’t remember drawing falling from suddenly limp fingers. What had happened? His mind was awash with distorted images that felt more like a dream than memories, but before he could even try to make sense of them there was a low noise, almost a whimper and he blinked, slowly lifting his head. He felt as though all the air had been forced out of him as he found himself staring at a bloodied Misaki, eyes widening as he realised with a shudder that the wounds matched the knife he had just dropped back, and he faltered torn between fleeing and helping when despite the pain he was clearly in, Misaki smiled at him.“You’re back…”
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Yata yelped as he was flung backwards, his aura flickering around him and it was only the warm body he collided with that stopped him from ending up in a heap on the ground, the exasperated noise that followed telling him exactly who it was. In the past this situation would have ended with insults and fighting, but now he found himself being steadied and when he glimpsed up Fushimi was staring down at him with a hint of concern.“Thanks,” Yata mumbled, the words coming easily nowadays even as he cursed the fact that his aura was slowly but steadily fading since they had destroyed the slates. Fushimi had no time to respond, the former-JUNGLE members who had come after the HOMRA vanguard in the hopes of avenging their fallen clan surged forwards once more, and they both sprang into action at the same time. Fushimi’s daggers alight with the fading blue of his aura soaring past Yata’s face, only to be joined by his flames, the two auras twining around one another and forming a deep purple…a purple that washed over their opponents, flinging them away and Yata whooped triumphantly, not missing the small smile that crept across the blue’s face.
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Fushimi grumbled under his breath as he meandered through the shopping centre, struggling to force his way through the crowd as he scanned each shop window for inspiration. It had occurred to him that morning that Misaki’s birthday was only a few days away, and since it was the one since their reconciliation he wanted to get him a good present, but even though they had been hanging out more often these days he was drawing a blank. This used to be so easy, he thought as he glanced towards the gaming shop that they had spent long hours in a few years ago, unwilling to go down memory lane for a gift…wanting something that would show their new relationship. But what? His PDA buzzed angrily a moment later and he cursed as he reached for it, half expecting to see a SCEPTER 4 number on the screen, his eyes narrowing as he found Kusanagi’s name at the top of the message and he hesitated before opening it.
He needs new headphones…and he was talking about going to the cinema, you should take him on a date. Anna x
He stared incredulously at the message for a moment, before his expression softened…even now she was determined to help the pair of them, and there was a small smile on his lips as he texted her a quick thank you message before he turned away with a focused expression. Headphones…I can do headphones…and maybe the other thing as well…
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To say that Yata was surprised to find Fushimi on his doorstep after the disastrous fight at the Tower was an understatement, especially after hearing the younger teen had walked out on the blue King, but there had been something in the dark eyes that had stopped the angry words that had been ready to spill out and instead he had opened the door wider in invitation.“I can’t stay,” Fushimi’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, which did nothing for the uneasy feeling that had settled over the vanguard and he found himself reaching out to grasp Fushimi’s sleeve, suddenly missing the normally hated blue uniform.“Fu…Saruhiko…are you okay?” It wasn’t really what he wanted to ask, but the distance between them was looming up in front of him and Yata had no idea how to break through it…and yet he found himself unable to let go of the younger teen.“I will be,” there was something empty in those words, as though the blue…former blue…wasn’t entirely sure that he believed it, reinforced by the way he snatched his arm free of Yata’s hand and the vanguard felt a spike of terror through the uneasy feeling.“Promise?” It was selfish to ask, especially after all this time and he saw Fushimi falter for a moment before giving a sharp nod…dark eyes meeting his for a moment before Fushimi turned away without a word and walked away, leaving Yata with an uneasy feeling, empty hands and a promise that he didn’t quite believe.
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This was not quite what Fushimi had been hoping for when Misaki had texted him the day before, inviting him round for dinner and a movie…and promising that this time they wouldn’t have a not so subtle babysitter in the form of Anna, Kusanagi or Kamamoto hanging in the background. He had arrived early just to annoy the older teen, only to find a suspiciously flushed Yata flapping around the kitchen, seemingly unable to focus on anything and rambling on in a way that the blue could only just follow, and his eyes narrowed in concern…something’s wrong. Although given the way the vanguard managed to dodge his grasp a couple of times he wasn’t completely out of it…yet…however, when he finally managed to get his arms around Yata the smaller teen immediately slumped against him with a soft groan, and Fushimi hastily shifted his grip to support more of his wait. A quick check confirmed his suspicions, the idiot had a fever…probably pushing himself to hard again as he bounced between HOMRA and however many part-time jobs he was juggling at the moment, and he sighed as his dinner…and after dinner plans went flying from his mind, instead leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the overheated forehead.“Come on…let’s get you to bed.”
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Fushimi jumped as a sudden weight landed on his side, cursing as his racer went zooming off the side of the track and he turned with the intention of snapping at his opponent…only to blink as he realised that Yata had dozed off, and that the weight had been him falling against him. The smaller teen mumbled something under his breath as he curled closer to Fushimi, his controller falling to the floor as he settled once more and the blue froze, not sure what to do. It had been Yata’s idea for them to hang out and play games, it was something they had bonded over in the past…something free from betrayals, clans and Kings…and as it was a chance to spend time with his Misaki he hadn’t been complaining, but it had felt odd…stilted and awkward in a way that it hadn’t in the past, and if he was being honest he was kind of glad to set aside his controller. It seemed that like with many things, video games were a thing of the past for them…but…his lips quirked up as Misaki grumbled sleepily at him, sliding down until he was resting in Fushimi’s lap, the blue’s fingers deftly nudging off the beanie and beginning to toy with his hair…they might have lost some things, but it seemed as though they were finding things to fill the gaps that had been left behind.
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Yata started awake with a cry, his breathing harsh as he stared at the ceiling for a moment, his heart racing…he knew that it had been a dream, it was always a dream, but the images had been so real…the pain had been so real, and with a noise that was almost a whimper he rolled onto his side to face Saruhiko. Normally the sight of the blue sprawled beside him fast asleep, his face devoid of its normal scowl was enough to calm the vanguard…but today the fear and guilt were refusing to fade, and with a shiver he curled against the taller man, reaching out with trembling fingers to brush against the spot where Sukuna’s dagger had pierced…it was long since healed, and he huffed out a shaky breath at the feel of the scar beneath his fingertips.“Misaki…?” The gentle touch had woken the other man, blue eyes blinking open and Yata froze, his fingers still pressed against the scar and he could see Fushimi connecting the dots even though he was half asleep, a sigh that was half exasperation and half concern escaping as the Blue abruptly yanked him into a tight hug. “You’ve got to stop this…”“I can’t,” Misaki whispered, fingers trembling as he clutched at the warm hands surrounding him. “If I had been any later…if the Blue King hadn’t told me what was going on.” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as the nightmarish images flashed through his mind once more. “You shouldn’t have trusted me…I’m…” I’m an idiot…you know that…so why? Why did you trust me to save you?
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When they had been younger it had nearly always been Yata who would initiate contact between them, dragging Fushimi along by the wrist…and then the hand…pulling him into hugs when he was excited, leaning against him when he was down or tired. To a certain extent that hadn’t changed…their reconciliation seeming to set back the clock to the point where the vanguard felt completely confident resuming his old behaviour, no the difference came from Fushimi. He was still working on how to speak to Misaki in a way the idiot would understand, not helped by his own anti-social personality and he was worried that if he took too long that Misaki would move on again…and the thought of that distance reopening between them terrified him. That was why he had started reaching out for Misaki, pulling the smaller teen against his side wherever they were…not caring about the amused glances from their clansmen, or how awkward he felt…because every time he did it, he was bet by a blinding smile from the HOMRA vanguard and the sensation of Misaki cuddling closer until he no longer knew where the divide between the two of them was. It was clumsy…and awkward…and perfect, and he struggled to hide his own smile as he felt Misaki curling up under his arm with a sigh.
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“Misaki!” Fushimi growled as he turned just in time to see his boyfriend stealing another scoop of the cake mixture, and he swiped at the smaller man, eyes narrowing as Misaki danced out of reach and gleefully licked the mixture off his fingers. It was the vanguard who had recruited his help, needing to make some cakes for Anna’s bake sale at school…but unable to do it himself, as Misaki could burn water at the best of times…and Fushimi had agreed, if only to stop the idiot poisoning everyone. It had been going fairly well…Misaki was more inclined to be useful because it was for Anna, and they had only bickered once about what flavour they were going to make…it had only been when the mixture was done and waiting to go in the oven he’d encountered the problem of Misaki stealing it, and his eyes narrowed as he saw the vanguard inching towards the bowl once more. “Don’t you dare…”“But…”“I’ll make another batch just for you…just leave these ones alone,” Fushimi cut him off, sighing as he glanced at the ingredients, relieved to see he had enough…only to growl as Misaki whooped triumphantly, making the Blue feel like he had just given the vanguard exactly what he’d wanted from the start.
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Yata sighed as he glanced up at the clock and then at the door…Fushimi was late…he checked his PDA again, already knowing that there was no message as he’d checked it a few seconds before and he scowled. He knew that the Blue wasn’t a fan of Halloween or parties, but he had promised to come to the party Kusanagi was throwing for all the clans once Yata had pointed out that he didn’t have to dress up if he didn’t want to…arguing that some like Munakata wouldn’t be dressed up anywhere, although as his gaze fell on the tall ninja on the far side of the room he had to admit that he’d been wrong on that account…but still that didn’t mean Fushimi had to dress up, and he had promised to come. Irritably he shifted the wings across his back as he tried to find a more comfortable position, having already taken the Tengu mask off despite the irritated glance from Anna…and he was so distracted with sorting out his own outfit that he failed to notice Fushimi creeping up on him, mischief glinting in his eyes. The first thing Misaki was aware of was teeth scraping the side of his neck and he squeaked, turning bright red as everyone turned to stare at him, the chuckle behind him telling him exactly who it was, and he whirled with the intention of shouting at his boyfriend only to freeze…Fushimi being contrary as always had decided to dress up, and Misaki swallowed as he had to admit the taller man made a very handsome vampire.
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Yata had spent so long wishing to turn back time, to go back to a time when they were friends…a time when Fushimi had yet to betray HOMRA, had yet to leave him behind...that he found the new shift in their relationship hard to comprehend. The bubble of happiness that had risen in his chest when Fushimi had said that he was going to try and work out how to say things so an idiot like him could understand had been real, and it was still there the first-time Fushimi messaged him to meet up after the fall of JUNGLE. It was only when he peered through the window of the café where they were supposed to be meeting, easily spotting the blue coat, that he found himself faltering as he realised that stepping through the door and embracing this chance meant letting go of that hope…letting go of that past…and he found his hands curling into fists at his side. He might have admitted that things had changed in the heat of battle, but facing it without that rush of adrenaline and for a moment he seriously contemplated just turning around and bolting…clinging to the hope for just a little longer…but then Fushimi spotted him, their eyes meeting him and he swallowed around a sudden lump as he realised that the younger man looked just as hesitant, and slowly he breathed out, hands unfurling before he forced himself to move towards the door. If time could only move forwards then he would have to do the same…and seeing Fushimi rising to greet him, he realised that maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
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Yata knew that something was going on from the moment he woke up to find flowers on the bedside table next to his head…Fushimi was many things, but romantic was rarely one of them and the last time he had got Yata something like flowers had been their first anniversary, nearly three years ago and he frowned even as he reached out to brush his fingers against the blooms. The next hint came at breakfast…for a start Fushimi had braved the kitchen and whilst both he and it were a complete mess, the food was delicious, although Yata found it hard to focus on the food when his partner kept shifting uneasily and avoiding his gaze. The next clue was when Fushimi was the one to suggest they head to HOMRA, because although he had become a lot more comfortable around his former clan since realising that he had always been meant to be a blue, he still rarely took the initiative to instigate meetings…and he was refusing to answer Yata’s questions now. If he hadn’t been suspicious before the sight of both HOMRA and SCEPTER 4 gathered in the bar, easy conversation flowing between the two clans, was enough to tell him that whatever was going on was big…a thought confirmed by the silence that fell when the others realised that they had arrived, and he turned towards Fushimi with the intention of demanding answers, only to find the words dying on the tip of his tongue as he watched his partner get down on one knee with a determined expression.
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“You’re an idiot.” It’s the first thing Fushimi says as he steps into the hospital cubicle, it’s certainly not the first time he’s called Misaki that and he highly doubts that it will be the last, but its softened with a fondness that he doesn’t bother hiding anymore and he knows that the vanguard picks up on it from the weak smile that creeps onto the pale face. “What were you doing?” There’s a harsher note to his voice now, because now he’s actually taken the time to take in the scrapes covering Misaki’s arms, the swollen cheek that he knows is going to turn black and blue by morning and the large bandage on his leg which has been propped up…Misaki is a mess, and something unpleasant curls in his chest at that realisation.“I…” Misaki actually hesitates which tells Fushimi that it has to be something stupid, and considering the way the vanguard has ducked his head…something incredibly stupid. “I was trying to get a Pokemon…and…” He is cut off by Fushimi swatting his head, the blow itself is gentle, after all he’s not about to injure someone who is already in hospital but the irritation in his voice is real as he growls at Misaki.“You’re a bloody idiot!”
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Fushimi had never liked seeing scars marring Misaki’s skin as it was always a reminder of how reckless the smaller teen could be…a sign that he had failed to protect the vanguard, and whilst Misaki himself seemed to brush them off, Fushimi found himself obsessing over those marks. It was worse now…months after their reconciliation as he lay next to the sleeping vanguard, his fingers easily mapping out the old scars, but faltering as he found new scars…scars that he hadn’t been there to witness, wounds that Misaki had been forced to endure without him. The worst, however, was the one on Misaki’s arm and Fushimi found himself closing his eyes, remembering the feel of the knife leaving his hand…the vanguard’s pained cry and angry eyes flashing through his mind, and he tried to snatch his hand away as though burnt, only to find himself being stopped as a warm hand latched onto his.“Saru…” Misaki’s voice was thick with sleepy, the confused tone making Fushimi open his eyes once more and he struggled not to flinch under the hazel eyes that were studying him intently and he glanced away as he saw understanding dawning…cursing the vanguard for not being as stupid as most people thought he was, and jolting as Misaki’s fingers tightened around his. “You know I forgave you for that a long time, ago right? It’s just a scar now…”“But…”
How can you say that so easily?
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“Leave!” It was the sharp cry rather than the flames now obscuring his vision that jolted Fushimi back to his senses, and he blinked, eyes widening as the scene in front of him finally came into focus. Misaki was on the ground, hands pressed tightly to his side where there was a growing crimson stain…How did that happen? The question was on the tip of his tongue but the words froze as he spotted the knife lying on the floor beside the vanguard…his knife…and nausea rose along with the vague memory of throwing it and he stumbled back, letting his gaze shift to Anna who had moved to stand protectively in front of Misaki, her fiery wings shifting to hide the vanguard from sight.“I…”“You tried to kill him,” Anna cut across him harshly, and Fushimi flinched…the urge to throw up increasing as he caught a glimpse of the anguish that flashed across Misaki’s face, the broken look in the hazel eyes that met his for a moment sending him to his knees. They always fought…but he had never lost his temper like this, never lost control of himself…never come so close to actually killing the vanguard…“Misaki…”
I’m sorry…
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“Hey Misaki,” Fushimi whispered as he slipped into the hospital room, eyes fixated on the still form on the bed, searching for some sign of change and feeling the familiar, bone-deep pain that came with the realisation that nothing had changed. “Misaki…” Quietly he followed the familiar path to the uncomfortable chair next to the bed, sinking into it with a groan before reaching out for the vanguard’s hand, hating how still and small it felt in his but still twining their fingers together. For a long moment he just sat there staring at their linked hands, before reaching into his pocket for the ring he had been carrying for weeks, hesitating as he stared at it…this was not how he had imagined this going, he had been waiting for the perfect moment, wanting to see Misaki’s eyes sparkling and to see his blush…but he needed to give the vanguard a reason to come back to him, a reason to live, and he took a deep breath before slipping it onto Misaki’s finger. “You have to come back to me…I want to hear your answer, I want to marry you…”
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Fushimi came to a halt as he realised that there was something, or rather someone blocking the door to his apartment, eyes narrowing as took in the sleeping vanguard. Part of him was tempted to just turn around and go back to work, or to see if he could sneak in without disturbing Yata because he really wasn’t in the mood for an argument, but as he watched a shiver work its way through the smaller teen. Sighing he moved up the steps and crouched down in front of Yata, reaching out hesitantly to shake the vanguard awake, fixing a scowl on his face when the other teen stirred with a sleepy mumble.“What are you doing here Misaki?” He asked, tone sharp as soon as he caught sleepy hazel eyes, and for a moment irritation washed over the vanguard’s face, but then he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the startled blue. “Misaki, what the…?”“Merry Christmas!”
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“Saru…” Misaki grumbled as warm arms tightened around him once more, pulling him flush against his partner, and he twisted so that he could peer up at Fushimi who was smirking at him…his breathing sped up at that expression, and he swallowed nervously. “I thought we were going to go out today…?”“It’s my holiday,” Fushimi pointed out, leaning in to kiss the vanguard and playfully biting at the end of Misaki’s nose, chuckling when the vanguard yelped and turned bright red. “I think I’d much rather spend it right here…after all it’s been too long since I got to have you all to myself.” If Misaki hadn’t been blushing before, he certainly was now as he buried his face against the taller man, muttering insults under his breath but not protesting when he was pulled closer, and tilting his head to the side when Fushimi began to press butterfly kisses to the side of his neck.
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It had always surprised Fushimi that Misaki was still using the headphones he’d brought him, although some part of him had clung to the sight of them hanging around the vanguard’s neck…hoping that maybe just maybe, it meant that Misaki wasn’t trying to get rid of him completely. However, he was stunned to see the look of utter devastation on Misaki’s face the day the headphones broke, shattered when the vanguard had been sent tumbling off his skateboard during a skirmish with the Blues. Normally the rest of HOMRA had to tear the vanguard away, but today he had just stopped in the middle of the fight…mouth moving soundlessly as he stared at the broken headphones, before slowly lifting his head and staring at Fushimi for a moment, letting the younger teen catch a brief glimpse of tears in the hazel eyes before Misaki was gone, practically fleeing the fight. It was that image, the sight of Misaki so close to tears that found Fushimi leaving work early that night and heading to the store, debating with himself the whole way…it wasn’t like new headphones would fix anything, and these wouldn’t have the emotional value the others did so the vanguard might just toss them in the bin. It didn’t stop him buying a pair, or from leaving them on the vanguard’s door later that night when he was sure he was home…and it didn’t stop him from smiling to himself when he saw them around Misaki’s neck the next time they met, even if it was hidden beneath a scowl and a familiar insult.
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Fushimi had always scoffed at his partner’s obsession with documenting every part of their life, unable to see why they would need photos of them doing boring things like shopping or tidying the house…and they’d had more than one argument about it. Yet right now he was glad that Misaki had never given up, that his stubborn crow had taken snapshots of every aspect of their life, filling their hard-drive and numerous albums with the story of their relationship…because it was all he had left. He had long since run out of tears when he holed up on their bed, still mussed from where Misaki had forgotten to make it the day he had…the day he had…pain lanced through his chest, the grief deepening and his hands trembled as he reached for the albums he had been combing through endlessly over the last few days. There were so many moments, tiny things that he had forgotten…the way they had both ended up covered in cake batter the day Misaki tried to teach him to bake, Misaki catching him trying to feel all the Christmas presents…too many moments, and something shifted in his chest as he let his fingers ghost over Misaki’s face, tracing the familiar grin before a tear landed on the photo, blurring the image as a sob shook him. Misaki…
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“Come on,” Misaki urged, yanking on Fushimi’s hand and the younger teen reluctantly let him guide him along, trying to tell himself that it was easier just to agree…and not that he couldn’t resist those sparkling hazel eyes, or the bright smile as Misaki guided him out onto the rooftop. Fushimi growled under his breath, was this really what the idiot wanted to show him? Dragging him out a perfect winning streak at the arcade to go climbing on roof tops?”“Misaki…”“Look,” Misaki cut him off, seemingly unaware of his irritation as he gestured at something behind Fushimi and the Blue slowly turned…and his breath caught as he realised what the smaller teen was pointing at. The city was bathed in beautiful reds and oranges as the sun slowly began to sink beneath the horizon, and his irritation faded, because right now the world was bathed in Misaki’s colours and when he turned to look at the vanguard, it was too see the sunlight reflected in the bright eyes and he couldn’t help but reach out to twine their fingers together.
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Yata sighed as Fushimi began to stir again, restlessly moving his head from side to side once more, hands clenching and unclenching in the duvet as his expression twisted into one of distress. Even before his fingers brushed the other’s forehead he knew that the fever had risen again and he growled under his breath, his boyfriend had made him promise not to take him to the hospital, but if it got any higher he wasn’t going to have a choice. For now, he would do what he could, reaching out to retrieve the cloth that had been soaking in a bowl of cool water, wringing it out and gently beginning to run it over feverish skin, washing away sweat and soothing the overheated skin.“Come on Saru…” He murmured softy, jolting when weak fingers caught his wrist and managing a weak smile when he finally caught a glimpse of dark eyes. “Hey there…”“Hey…” Fushimi’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes already drifting shut even as he leant into the cooling touch of the cloth, and his breathing evened out a moment later as he settled and Misaki sighed, smiling slightly as he reached in to press a small kiss to warm skin.
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“Damn it Misaki!” Fushimi cursed as he rushed across to where the vanguard was slowly sitting up, blinking in surprise at finding himself on the ground and then hissing as he moved, drawing the younger teen’s attention to the nasty grazes on Misaki’s knees. “What were you doing?”“I was thinking…”“Daydreaming you mean,” Fushimi retorted, the older teen had been distracted all morning and refusing to tell him what was bothering him…it was why he had suggested they go to the skate park, aware that skateboarding helped to settle Misaki when he was worrying about something. But now he was regretting the suggestion as he took in the blood on the pale skin, the pain in the hazel eyes that met his gaze for a moment before looking away again and he sighed. “Come on…let’s get you up so I can take a look at your legs.”
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Fushimi blinked when something landed on his head, reaching up to brush it away, only to freeze when Yata grabbed his hands to stop him….and didn’t let go…“What are you doing? And what have you put on my head?! The vanguard sighed at the suspicion in his voice, squeezing his fingers before letting go, allowing Fushimi to reach up and search his head…blinking at the feel of flowers beneath his searching fingers, gently lifting whatever it was and staring at it when it came into sight. “A flower crown? How old you Mi-sa-ki?” He teased, but when Yata went to snatch it back he held on, hastily dropping it back on his head before catching the vanguard’s hands in his own. “Leave it…”“How old are you?” Yata retorted, but he didn’t make any attempt to pull away, instead twining their fingers together before leaning in to steal a kiss. “It suits you…”
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Fushimi cursed under his breath as he sent a box flying in his search for his PDA, immediately bending to retrieve it as he realised it was the small wooden chest that Misaki had always asked him to leave a lone, wincing as he took in the broken hinge. Damn… Gingerly he lifted it, wondering if he could fix it before the vanguard returned, but then it swung open and he froze, staring in confusion at the dozen envelopes hidden inside…all of them addressed to him in Misaki’s scrawl. Curiosity warred with caution, and in the end, it won out and he sank down on the bed, setting the chest aside before pulling out the top envelope, relieved to find that it wasn’t sealed and carefully opening it and pulling out the single sheet of paper from within. Misaki’s handwriting really was appalling, but he had become adept at deciphering it over the years and he scanned the letter, feeling an unpleasant weight settling in his stomach as he realised it had been written during their estrangement…Misaki had been reaching out to him, pleading with him to come back or for them to at least be friends, but he had never sent it…“Saru where are…?” Misaki’s voice cut off abruptly, and Fushimi glanced up to find the vanguard stood in the doorway staring at him with wide eyes, colour draining from his face even as red rushed into his cheeks.
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Yata groaned under his breath as he came too, head pounding and the sharp pain that accompanied each breath telling him that the blurry memory of a knife catching his side wasn’t his imagination and for a moment he tried to sink back into unconsciousness, at least it didn’t hurt there. However, as he moved slightly there was a strange rattling sound and a feeling of his stomach flip-flopping, and a sudden uneasiness had his eyes creeping open...wishing he hadn’t as he took in the unfamiliar room, and the fact that he was suspended off the ground, feet barely touching and he shifted again, whimpering as it tugged on his injuries.“You’re awake.” The voice startled him, and he blinked, clearly his blurry vision just enough to focus on the strain that he had been fighting earlier. “I thought I might have killed you.”“Sorry to disappoint you,” his voice was weaker than he liked, and he growled under his breath when the man smirked at him…he reminded him painfully of Fushimi, and Misaki felt a jolt at that thought before he shook his head…no, Fushimi was many things, but he had never truly tried to kill him and right now Misaki would give anything to see the Blue, even if it meant owing him for saving him. Saru…now would be a really good time to show up…
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Fushimi wondered just what had possessed the higher powers to give him a soulmate like this…to be honest a small part of him had always hoped that he wouldn’t find his, it seemed like more trouble than it was worth…it was more trouble than it was worth, he corrected as he glanced at the man currently sleeping in his lap. Rather than introducing himself like a normal person, the smaller man had literally thrown himself into Fushimi’s life…charging into a fight to protect him, and getting himself hurt in the process, managing to blurt out his name before passing out and leaving the startled Fushimi to deal with the strain and his own personal complication. Part of him had been tempted to call for an ambulance and let others deal with the idiot, but something had stopped him…which was why he had ended up back at his flat, with a stranger in his lap, blood staining both them and his sofa and a strange warmth flooding through him as he studied the pale face.“Why is it someone like you…?” He whispered, hesitantly reaching out and ghosting his fingers over the others face, wondering what was going to happen when he woke up…would he be happy? Annoyed? Scared? Why…why are we meant for each other?
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It felt like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think…unable to do anything but watch as the Blue King disappeared into the distance, leaving nothing but his voice and the words that had just shredded the image he had of the older man…of Fushimi. The dull ache in his chest that had been constant companion from the moment the younger teen had left HOMRA, burning their friendship along with his tattoo, flared to life…a sharp pain that had Yata clawing at his chest, eyes burning as realisation washed over him. He had actually believed that Fushimi could have betrayed the Blues and he’d been wrong…how many other things had he been wrong about? How much of the situation between them was his fault? He closed his eyes, every interaction they’d shared since Fushimi had left HOMRA flashed through his mind, Saru…. why didn’t you tell me?
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Yata’s heart was hammering in his chest as he hauled Fushimi to safety, forcing the other teen down as the trap that the Blue had triggered went off, covering him as rubble and flames roared through the air above them…fairly sure he could smell his hair burning. He could feel the Blue squirming, protesting and he pressed him down, not trusting that there wasn’t another trap ready to go off…and not wanting Fushimi wondering around blindly again and setting something else off.“You really need to get contacts…” He growled when he finally deemed it safe to move, rolling over and blinking as he realised the warehouse was now minus a roof. “What happened to your glasses?” He had seen them on the blue’s face barely five minutes before, and yet in those five minutes he had manged to lose them and blunder into a tripwire.“No idea…and thanks…”
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The blade had left Fushimi’s fingers, a perfect throw as always, but he knew that it wouldn’t be enough…it never was, and that was why they could fight like this, without hesitation because they knew that the other could handle it. That was why it took a moment for him to realise that Misaki hadn’t moved in time…a moment too long…and another blade fell from suddenly nerveless fingers as he took a cautious step forward, eyes widening as he watched the vanguard lifting shaky fingers to the knife in his chest, hazel eyes slowly rising to meet his gaze.“Misaki…” A shaky laugh escaped the vanguard, the sound so out of place in the situation that Fushimi physically flinched…hand trembling as he reached for the smaller teen, but it was too late, crimson staining the front of the cream top and then Misaki was falling and terror jolted him forward with a frantic shout.“MISAKI!”
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“Saru…” Yata’s voice trembled as he stepped into the room, eyes darting nervously around as he took in the hospital room, the silent machines that should’ve been keeping his boyfriend alive. His breath caught, and it took every ounce of strength he had to move forward on shaky legs, wishing that the others had come with him…whilst also relieved that there was no one there to see him as a sob shivered through him as he reached out to grasp Fushimi’s fingers, twining their fingers together and trying not to focus on the chilling flesh. “You promised me that there weren’t going to be any more secrets…Saru, you promised…so…” Why?! Why did this happen? Why didn’t I know where you were or what you were doing?
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Fushimi watched with narrow eyes as Misaki slipped into the pub nearly half an hour after they were supposed to meet, muttering a quiet greeting to his own clan before heading towards the Blue, granting the younger teen a clear view of the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the flush colouring overly pale cheeks. It was a sight he was familiar with and he sighed under his breath, any normal person would have called and cancelled when they were ill and spent the day in bed…but not Misaki…he resolutely ignored the small voice that pointed out he was just as bad, instead rising to his feet and going to meet the vanguard. Before Misaki could say anything, he wrapped an arm around the smaller teen’s shoulder, scowling as he felt how warm the idiot was.“Saru…?”“We’re going home, and you are going to bed,” Fushimi growled, but there was no real heat to his voice…and any irritation he might have felt disappeared when rather than protesting like he had expected, the vanguard had let out a relieved sigh and leant into him with a whispered apology.
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Yata had got used to the crazy hours that Fushimi sometimes had to keep for Scepter 4, and he had also learnt to watch out for the signs that his boyfriend wasn’t sleeping enough…sometimes they were little, subtle signs…a slight creasing around his eyes when he was trying to focus on something, trailing off in the middle of conversations but recovering a second later. Other times…they were more obvious. Like tonight, when the Blue had practically fallen through the front door and stumbled through to the kitchen in search of coffee, only to make an alarming mixture of soap powder, coffee and what looked like some of the leftover rice from the fridge and only a desperate lunge on Yata’s part had kept the concoction out of Fushimi’s hands.“Go to bed,” he ordered, hastily dumping the mixture in the sink when Fushimi tried to reach for it, growling under his breath when all he got was a confused frown. Abandoning the mug, he grabbed Fushimi’s hand, twining their fingers together before guiding the sleepy man through to the bedroom before he could cause any more mischief…
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“No, absolutely not,” Fushimi snapped, trying desperately not to look at the wiggling ball of fluff in Munakata’s arms, only to find his gaze darting to the puppy when it gave a distressed whine and he cursed as he found himself staring into wide, hazel eyes. Damn… He had never learnt to resist that look when Misaki was his usual annoying self, but now the effect was intensified by his current form and even as he cursed up a storm in the back of his mind…cursing the Strain that had changed the vanguard into a puppy, cursing Misaki for being cute and cursing his own inability to resist the puppy dog eyes…. he reached out and took the puppy. “Fine…but you better find a way to fix this and quickly,” he muttered, ignoring the knowing smirk from his King as he cradled Misaki closer, expression softening a little when a little, puppy tongue flashed out and swiped at his chin. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he told Misaki, hoping that the idiot wouldn’t remember any of this as he buried his fingers into soft, chestnut fur and earning a contented grumble from the vanguard. Too cute…
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“SARUHIKO! GET YOUR FURRY BEHIND OUT OF THAT TREE!” Yata didn’t care that he was attracting weird looks from passer-by’s, although it was harder to ignore Kamamoto and the others laughing at him in the background as he stared up at the tree… or more specifically at the cat huddled on one of the higher branches, peering down at him with narrowed blue eyes and hissing intermittently, tail lashing against the branch. “Saru…” He should have known that the Blue was going to be even more ornery than ever after being transformed into a cat by the Strain they had been perusing, but he hadn’t expected the younger teen to go scarpering up a tree…and he had no idea how to get him down. “Please come down.” The angry growl that interrupted the hisses told him that, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon and Yata growled back before tossing his skateboard to the side…fine if the idiot was going to come down on his own, then Yata was just going to have to go to him.
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Fushimi fought the urge to snap at the nurse who was fussing around him, his head was hurting, his side was hurting and all he wanted to do was sleep…but he also couldn’t face the lecture he’d no doubt receive if he did snap, and so he endured it.“Your family is outside; do you want to see them?” It took a moment for her question to register, and when it did all he could do was blink at her in confusion. Family…? Usually the only people who visited him when he was injured was Munakata or Awashima and they had never claimed to be family…so who? Not sure what was going on he gave a small nod, his gaze following the nurse as she headed for the door and lingering there until a familiar figure appeared in the doorway…and his stomach twisted with a mixture of warmth, relief and guilt…he still wasn’t used to the fact that they were together, that Misaki was his…that he finally had a family again.
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Fushimi sighed as he eyed the huddled figure on his couch, wondering how on earth it had come to this as he moved around the kitchen trying to cobble something together that might tempt his unexpected guest to eat. Cooking wasn’t his forte, but he managed to come up with what looked like an edible omelette before quietly moving back into the living room, eyes narrowing in concern when Yata didn’t even look at him…the vanguard never let him get this close, not without suspicious glances and at least one insult…but right now it was like he didn’t exist, and it scared him.“Misaki…?” He tried for his usual drawl, the one that always wound the smaller teen up, but there was no response and he sighed again before crouching down in front of the vanguard and dumping the food on the coffee table. “Misaki…please look at me?” He softened his voice, and this time Yata stirred, slowly lifting his head and blinking at him as though surprised to find him there…but Fushimi couldn’t tease him, not when the hazel eyes were red from crying, tears staining the pale cheeks and instead he found himself pulling the vanguard into a tight hug, food completely forgotten as Yata took a hiccupping breath before beginning to sob.
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There are angry words on the tip of Fushimi’s tongue as he yanks his front door open, wondering who on earth would be hammering on his door at this time of morning, but the words die when he’s accosted by a chestnut-haired blur which sends him toppling backwards. It’s only instinct that allows him to wrap his arms around the assailant, cushioning his fall, grunting as the added weight drives the air out of him and waiting for the other man to scramble off…or punch him which is even more likely, instead he frowns when he’s greeted with a giggle.“Misaki…?”“That’s a girl’s name…” Misaki mumbles, words slurred as he giggles again, fingers gripping at Fushimi’s pyjamas as though it’s the only thing keeping him grounded…and when Fushimi lifts his head and gets his first good look at the smaller teen, he realises that it probably is, sighing at the sight of flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes.“Are you drunk?”
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Yata hums as he drifts awake to the sensation of fingers running through his hair, smiling as he leans into the touch and the familiar warmth that is pressed against his side. He’s tempted to just go back to sleep, but the soft chuckle that greets his attempts to cuddle into the warmth makes him open his eyes, blinking to clear his vision.“Morning,” Saru’s eyes are soft, lips quirked up in the soft smile that only the vanguard gets to see as he leans over to steal a quick closed mouth kiss which Yata eagerly returns, blinking when they pull apart and taking in the light-hearted air surrounding the blue.“You’re in a good mood,” he comments around a yawn, not bothering to hide his pleasure, there had been a time when mornings like this were rare…but now it’s almost common, not that he has any attention of taking it for granted just because of that, especially when he’s drawn into a tight hug as Saru presses a kiss to the top of his head.“I’m happy…”
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There are many words that Fushimi would use to describe Yata, most of them were rather insulting even when they weren’t bickering and beautiful was certainly not one of them. Except right now it was the only word that that came to mind as he watched the smaller teen fighting, the crimson wrapped around his hands and propelling him forward was dulling, fading as their sanctums faded…but it was still brilliant in his eyes because it was Misaki’s red…sparks flying, flaring with each angry shout. However, it was the moments when Misaki would take the air, propelled by flames and his skateboard, seemingly taking flight that Fushimi found his breath catching, feeling that for a moment he could see wings spreading out around Misaki. The vanguard was a loud, easily flustered idiot…but right now he was beautiful and all Fushimi could think as he moved forward to join the fight, was how lucky he had been to tame this wild creature…how fortunate he was that this crow was his.
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Fushimi sighed with relief as he slipped through the front door to find Yata’s coat still hanging from the hook, his trainers and skateboard still tucked neatly away, something easing in his chest at the sight. Part of him had been expecting the vanguard to take off, not that he would have been able to blame him, after all it was his sharp tongue and reluctance to trust that things had really changed that had sparked their earlier argument…an argument he had foolishly ended by walking out. Suddenly nervous he wasted time taking off his coat and hanging it up, ears straining for any sound from the other man, frowning at the silence that lay over the apartment and eventually gathering his courage to move through into the living room. His expression softened when he found the reason for the quiet…Yata was curled up asleep in the corner of the couch, looking smaller than ever in his current positon…but it was the evidence of tears on the pale cheeks that drew him closer, reaching out with trembling fingers to brush it away as he crouched down in front of the sleeping vanguard.
I’m sorry Misaki…
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Fushimi sighed with relief when Misaki finally disappeared around the corner with Kamamoto, he’d been starting to think that he wasn’t going to be able to lose the vanguard and for once he’d been glad to see the burly blond, not that he would admit it aloud. He waited a couple of minutes to make sure that his boyfriend wasn’t going to come back, before hurrying back towards the jewellery shop they’d been in a few minutes before looking for a present for Anna…well Misaki had, Fushimi had been subtly trying to examine the engagement rings. Stepping back into the shop he made a beeline for the counter that had caught his attention, eyes lighting up at the ring that had caught his attention just before Misaki had distracted him, although he winced slightly when he caught sight of the price. It was a lot of money, probably too much and he could just imagine the lecture he would get from the vanguard if he realised just how much it was…but it was perfect, and after everything it had taken to get to this point it was a price he was willing to pay.
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“You’re worse than a pet,” Fushimi grumbled under his breath even as he shifted the report he was trying to work on to make room, sparing a quick, half-hearted glare for Misaki as the smaller teen wormed his way into his lap. Hazel eyes narrowed at the comment, but apparently, he wasn’t in the mood for an argument because he settled for curling up in silence, head resting against Fushimi’s chest so that he could listen to his boyfriend’s heartbeat. “Misaki…” Fushimi abandoned his protest knowing that it would fall on deaf ears, instead turning his attention back to his work and trying to ignore his boyfriend, not an easy task when Misaki was pressed that close. He managed to hold out for a few minutes, although he was fairly sure not a single word of the report had sunk in, before finally he found himself reaching up to run his hand through Misaki’s hair, rolling his eyes in response to the contented noise that met his touch. Much worse than a pet…
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“Come on Misaki, wake up,” Fushimi couldn’t let his gaze shift from Misaki’s face, knowing that if it did then everything would break…even now he could see blood from the corner of his eye, and he took a shuddering breath, resting trembling fingers against a pale cheek and trying not to notice the lack of reaction that greeted his touch. “We need to go home, so please wake up.” This wasn’t how it was supposed to be…. they had finally reconciled, finally allowed themselves to give into the feelings that had been developing between them since they were at school…they had moved in together, finding a way to balance their clan life and their personal lives. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close and as he shifted closer to Misaki, shakily gathering him in his arms, he felt the box he had been carrying around for weeks trapped between them and a hiccupping sob welled up. “Misaki, we’re going home…I’m taking you home, so you need to wake up all right?”
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Yata smiled as he felt Fushimi leaning into his hand as he ran his fingers through the dark hair, lazily toying with the dark locks as he cuddled closer to his boyfriend. He relished lazy mornings like this when neither of them had anywhere better to be, and when Fushimi was lax and sleepy against him, sated from the night before and affectionate in way he rarely was at any other time. Experimentally he tugged a little harder on Fushimi’s hair, grinning at the growl the gesture earned him, only to find himself suddenly on his back when Fushimi flipped them, hastily releasing his grip so that his partner could rear up. In the past, he would have been concerned to have Fushimi looming over him with that expression, especially as blue sparks danced across his hands, tickling Misaki’s skin where Fushimi’s fingers were pressing in, but now he merely grinned up at the blue and raised an eyebrow in challenge.
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Fushimi could feel himself colouring, embarrassment growing when all Misaki was blink at him for a long moment before slowly lifting a finger to swipe at the Ice cream now covering his cheek. It was supposed to have been a romantic ending to their first meal together, but he had managed to completely miss and smear it on his boyfriend’s face instead. The vanguard studied his finger for a moment before daintily cleaning off the ice-cream before smirking at Fushimi, trepidation flooding the blue as he caught the mischief in hazel eyes, but he had no chance to react before Misaki had scooped up some of the ice cream and returned the favour. Fushimi shivered at the chilly sensation before his eyes narrowed, a grin spreading across his lips as he grabbed his own bowl, rising to the challenge as they disintegrated into a childish food fight. When they were booted out a few minutes later, Misaki’s hand tucked into his pocket along with his own and both of them chuckling, he had to admit that maybe it hadn’t been a failure after all.
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“Sorry,” Fushimi muttered, wincing in sympathy as he carefully pulled out another shard of glass despite the whimper it drew from the vanguard, setting it aside before risking a glimpse at Misaki’s face. The other teen was pale, making the graze covering the left side of his cheek stand out even more, bruising already appearing around it and his face was twisted in pain, teeth pressing into his bottom lip in an attempt to hold back anymore noises. “Just a few more pieces, okay?” He asked softly, waiting until he got a tiny nod of permission before turning his attention back to Misaki’s leg and the cuts covering nearly every inch of skin, sighing at the thought of how much this was going to hurt and he couldn’t quite keep the bite out of his voice, because he hated seeing Misaki like this. “Next time try and be more careful.”“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Misaki retorted, rising to his tone, only to deflate when Fushimi resumed his ministrations because no matter how gentle the Blue was being, it hurt like hell.
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Fushimi watched with amusement as Yata tried to deal with the shop assistant who had come across to help, deliberately ignoring the pleading look his boyfriend was sending him in favour of watching the colour creeping into his cheeks. It was endlessly amusing to him…and endearing…that even now Misaki was completely incapable of dealing with girls, although his eyes narrowed as he caught the girl watching Misaki with interest…apparently too endearing. Straightening he moved closer, relishing the way his boyfriend immediately focused on him with a relieved expression, earning a huff from the shop assistant who was trying to get his attention.“Mi-sa-ki.” It had been a while since he had needled him with that name, but it immediately made sure that Misaki wasn’t looking anywhere but him as he leant in to kiss him, earning a strangled noise from the smaller teen and a beautiful shade of pink that only he could produce. Something that had him grinning smugly as he shot a triumphant look at the girl. Mine…
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Fushimi smirked to himself as he eyed the drink in Misaki’s hand. Normally it was world war three trying to get the other teen milk…he adamantly refused to acknowledge that he was just as bad, if not worse if it came to vegetables, instead focusing on Misaki as he sipped the milkshake and rolled his eyes at the quiet noise of enjoyment. Apparently, all it took was adding strawberries to it, because the vanguard was currently downing it as though he’d never had a drink before and Fushimi filed it away for future reference.“Misaki…” He deliberately drawled the name, knowing that it still wound the other up more than anything and sure enough the other teen turned to look at him, lifting his head and leaving himself wide open. At once Fushimi leant in, revelling in the fact that he had the right to do this now and that Misaki was welcoming him as he kissed him firmly, tasting the strawberry on his lips and letting out an appreciative noise.
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Yata scowled as he watched yet another girl coming up to Saruhiko and presenting his best friend with chocolates, but he didn’t dare say anything, colouring at just having a girl so close to them. To be honest it helped that Saru looked just as unimpressed although he managed to mutter something that could have been a thank you, waiting until she left before shoving the chocolate into his bag alongside the others.“We should have skipped today.” Yata grinned slightly at that, remembering the days when Fushimi had been the one scolding him for missing classes and he leant forward, only to yelp as Saru promptly flicked him on the nose. “Stop looking so pleased with yourself.”“But, I just heard the star pupil wishing that he was skiving,” Yata couldn’t resist teasing, eyes darting to the chocolate, knowing that it would never be touched because his best friend hated chocolate, and he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of triumph at the fact that he knew Fushimi better than they did and he leant in. “I’m cooking tonight if you want to come for dinner?” The slight smile he got, told him that it was a yes, and he felt his previous irritation fading away.
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Yata yelped as he found himself pinned to the wall by Fushimi’s knives, once again relieved that his former friend had such good aim as he realised that he could feel one of the blades touching his skin, but the lack of pain told him it hadn’t caught him. Still that didn’t really reassure him when Fushimi stalked towards him, spinning another knife in his hand, lips drawn up in a smirk that promised nothing good for him and he bared his teeth in a fierce growl.“What the hell do you want Saru?” He cursed silently when even he was able to hear the waver in his voice, and he winced when Fushimi chuckled, before blinking when he realised it was nothing like his normal, cold laugh. “Saru?”“Always so suspicious Mi-sa-ki,” Fushimi drawled before reaching into his pocket, the movement making the vanguard tense, only to stare, wide-eyed as the Blue held out a small bag of chocolate, looking up just in time to see colour seeping into the pale cheeks.
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It had to be love. Fushimi could think of no other reason why he would be willingly traipsing home at nearly four in the morning, a drunk Misaki passed out against his back, arms wrapped loosely around his neck and snoring loudly. Rolling his eyes, he shifted to make sure he couldn’t drop the idiot, squeezing Yata’s legs when he felt the vanguard stirring slightly.“Hmm…Saru?” Misaki mumbled under his breath, nosing at his ear, still half-asleep but apparently, content once he felt Fushimi nod to reassure him. “Missed you tonight…” Fushimi grimaced slightly at that, well aware that he had broken his promise to be at the party, although in his defence he would much rather have been there than trawling through the sewers after a Strain who had eventually managed to escape, however, that was forgotten when the nuzzling sensation became a small, open mouthed kiss against his neck. “Love you.”“Idiot…”
I love you too…
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Yata glanced around the moment they were topside, barely taking in the chaos around them, Red, Blue and Green mixed together as they cleared the area around JUNGLE’s base. He had no eyes for any of it though, instead searching for Fushimi, feeling a weight that he hadn’t been aware of lifting from his shoulders at the sight of Saru being treated by the medics. Forgetting all about Kusanagi who was stood at his side, he bolted towards the other teen, a warmth that had nothing to do with his fading aura rising as Fushimi lifted his head as he spotted his approach, something that could pass for a smile crossing his lips. It was that smile, and the fact that everything was over and they were both safe that gave him courage, and ignoring their audience he darted forward, flinging his arms around the Blue, ignoring the startled grunt and hesitantly pressing their lips together. He was blushing and somewhat worried when he pulled back, suddenly unsure of his reception, especially when he caught the surprise in Fushimi’s eyes, but then he was being pulled closer again and they kissed again, slower and deeper this time.
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Fushimi shrank deeper in his coat, wondering what on earth had made him agree to wander around the shops in this weather, before glancing down at Yata who was staring longingly at the Christmas display in the window and he sighed…that was why. He was a about to suggest they go inside, when he paused, blinking and frowning as he studied his boyfriend…was that a shiver. He had never seen Yata shiver before, the Red’s aura had meant that he could be out in the snow in his normal attire without feeling it, but then his eyes widened in comprehension just as another shiver worked its way through Yata. Silently, not wanting to mention their fading sanctums, he reached up and unwound his scarf, gently settling it around Yata’s neck despite the protests that greeted the action. He could see the pain, the longing in the hazel eyes, and slowly he tugged Yata into a hug…he couldn’t return their sanctums, couldn’t bring back Misaki’s red, but he could be here and from the way Misaki’s arms crept around him, it was enough.
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Fushimi sucked in a nervous breath as the café where they had arranged to meet came into sight, coming to a halt for a moment as he studied it, butterflies that he had never expected to feel stirring in his stomach. It wasn’t the first time they had seen each other since the fight against JUNGLE, after all Misaki had plagued him with visits when he was in the hospital, and they had tentatively begun to hang out and talk, but always with their clan members nearby. Today was different, today they were going to be alone and unsupervised…“Nervous, Saru?” He jumped at the teasing voice, turning to find Yata standing behind him, balancing his skateboard against his leg and he was about to retort when he realised that the vanguard looked just as nervous as he felt, and his lips quirked up slightly.“Nervous, Mi-sa-ki…?” As predicted Yata growled at him for using his first name and they fell into easy bickering, falling into step, their nervousness forgotten as they headed for the café.
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Fushimi was fairly sure that everyone in HOMRA had taken a turn in warning him not to hurt Misaki, and whilst he could appreciate their concern after his past relationship with their vanguard, he couldn’t quite hold back a sigh as another hand settled on his wrist. He was startled to glance down to find Anna staring up at him, amusement in her crimson eyes before she tugged on his arm and obediently he followed as she guided him over to her table.“Are you going to warn me to take care of him as well?”“Misaki can take care of himself,” Anna shook her head, smiling, although he couldn’t miss the brief flare in her aura and the unspoken hint that he had better make sure that it wasn’t necessary. “He’s nervous, about the date I mean…he’s scared that he’s going to mess it up, and when he gets like that…”“He tends to mess things up more…” This was a warning he appreciated, after all things were still shaky between them and more than once they had both taken things the wrong way, and he offered her a tiny smile. “Thank you.”
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Yata couldn’t stop the exhilarated grim that crept across his face as he pushed himself forward, a little blast of flames giving him the speed to spring into the air and he couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up as air rushed past him. This…This feeling was the reason why he could never give up his skateboard, and why he had mourned the destruction of the last one. Skateboarding gave him freedom, a way to escape when things became too much…almost giving him wings, he amended, unleashing his flames to push himself higher and faster. He could hear the others calling out at him to slow down and wait for them, no doubt thinking he was rushing headfirst into trouble, but he wasn’t…he just wanted to savour this feeling for a bit longer.
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Yata would never have admitted it to anyone, but before HOMRA and Mikoto he had been frightened of fire, always leaning away from even the smallest flame. Yet from the moment he had seen Mikoto’s flames, he had been enchanted and whilst the fear had still been there at the back of his mind, he hadn’t hesitated to touch his King and be tested by his fire. After that…after he had found his King, and a place to call home, he had feared the flames for a different reason. As stupid as he could be at times, as unthinking, he knew that flames couldn’t burn forever…that sooner or later they would burn out, and the thought of losing his flames and everything they had come to represent, terrified him more than anything.
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Fushimi hummed under his breath as he carefully cleaned his knives, watching as the light danced over the blades, admiring the sight and slowly running a finger along one glistening edge. The stinging pain that followed made him hiss, but he didn’t pull away, instead watching with fascination as a bead of blood rolled down the metal. He had meant what he had told Misaki…blood and metal, they were things he could appreciate because they were real, controllable. He didn’t need a King to wield his knives, to draw blood, to fight…it was something that he could do with his own power, something that was neither Red nor Blue, and it was something he would fight to keep. His fingers curled around the blade, not enough to draw more blood, but enough to let him feel the threat…he needed this reality in a world where everything was dictated by powers he didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand.
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Fushimi stared down at the PDA in his hand, or rather at the number at the top of the call list…it was a number that he had deleted long ago, not because he thought that it would help or that it would stop the other teen from being able to find him, but to stop himself from giving into temptation. The same temptation that had kept his finger hovering over the delete button for a couple of minutes now, and with a click of his tongue he pulled it back, unable to go through with it this time. It was an empty gesture anyway. His PDA which had more security than most was his memory, the one place where he had allowed himself to cling to the past, and his eyes darted briefly to the gallery icon…longing warring with irritation, before he forced himself to shut the device down and slide it back into his pocket. It meant nothing, it was just a PDA, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from checking it, resting a hand against it for a moment…it was nothing, and everything.
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“HARRY JAMES POTTER!” Harry winced as he heard Hermione’s shout, he’d been hoping that it would take her a little while longer to realise what he had done, but then again this was Hermione…it was a miracle that she hadn’t tried to escape the bed already. For a moment, he contemplated ignoring her, after all she didn’t have a wand at the moment as she had to restrict her magic use this late in the pregnancy and his spell meant that unless she needed the bathroom she couldn’t leave the bed…just like the doctors had ordered, although according to his wife they didn’t know what she was talking about. However, he knew that she was perfectly capable of holding a grudge and that she would just wait for the perfect chance to get her revenge if he ignored her now…and it just wasn’t worth it…besides hiding would imply he’d done something wrong, and he didn’t think being protective of his headstrong wife was wrong.“Hermione, you know that…” He was cut off as he stepped into the bedroom by a pillow colliding with his face and he spluttered as he caught it, glowering at an unrepentant Hermione and barely resisting the urge to throw it back. “Hermione…”
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“Are you sure about this?” Hermione asked softly, squeezing Harry’s hand as she saw the troubled expression on his face, the darkness in his eyes as he glanced down at Hogwarts. She had been relieved when he had decided that enough was enough, that they had already risked too much to save a world that didn’t want to be saved…the betrayal they had faced at Hogwarts being the straw that broke the camel’s back, and her eyes darted to the lumps under his robe where bandages still covered the wounds that had nearly killed him…but she also knew Harry, knew that he still loved Hogwarts and magic, and that leaving was tearing him in two.“I’m sure,” Harry whispered finally, turning away from Hogwarts and offering her a weary smile as he reached out to brush his fingers against her cheek, lingering on the faint scar from one of their earlier fights. “I…We’ve given too much already…I won’t lose you to a destiny I never wanted.” And I know you won’t leave without me…“Thank you,” she leant up, kissing him softly, before grasping his hand tighter and apparating them away from Hogwarts and the magical world for the last time.
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Hermione smiled to herself as she felt Harry’s eyes on her again, and she had to resist the urge to glance across at him, knowing that if she did then she would lose this little game they were playing…she had caught a brief glimpse of him earlier, looking incredibly handsome in his dress robes, glasses banished for the night and she had nearly forfeited then and there. It was only the fact that he had taken one look at her close-fitting dress, the very epitome of the muggle ‘little black dress’ and turned bright red, before fleeing to the other side of the ballroom that had let her hold on. She had felt his eyes on her ever since…and she loved it.“Hermione,” his voice made her jump, the warmth of his breath against her ear sending a shiver down her back, and she couldn’t hold back a squeak as she turned to look at him…her mouth going dry as she realised how dark his eyes were, the lust in his gaze making her tremble and it took her a moment to compose herself enough to arch an eyebrow at him.“Admitting defeat already Mr. Potter?” She teased, only to be silenced as he kissed her hungrily, responding just as eagerly and admitting to herself at least that it was probably a draw…even as she tugged him closer.
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There had been a time when neither of them had ever imagined that they would live old enough to see old age, let alone get the chance to grow old together, and yet right now it felt like even though they had been blessed with that time…it wasn’t enough. There were tears in Harry’s eyes as he cradled Hermione’s hand between his, relieved that everyone else had left them in peace apart from the odd nurse who had to come in to check his wife…although even that had become less frequent, and he knew that time was running out, even before he met Hermione’s eyes and saw the acceptance in them and the small smile tugging at her lips.“Hermione,” he whispered, leaning in to press a shaky kiss to her forehead, reaching up to brush silvery curls away from her face…even now she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he closed his eyes before kissing her softly. “I…” I don’t want to say goodbye, even after all this time, I don’t have the words… She blinked wearily at him, no doubt hearing the unspoken words, her fingers curling weakly around his…her voice barely a whisper as her eyes began to close.“Thank you for this amazing adventure…”
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Harry was quiet as he set a warm mug of tea in front of Hermione before settling beside her on the couch, just within reach, but not so close they were touching. He didn’t know what to say, a problem he had never experienced around her before and he worried at his bottom lip…he…they had known that it was eventually going to end up like this, their affair was never going to remain secret forever, but still.“I’m sorry…”“I’m not.” The blunt words caught him by surprise, and he blinked at her as she turned to look at him, her eyes still red from crying but her expression was resolute…almost peaceful. “I…we should have come clean long ago, because…no matter how much this hurts…losing you would hurt more.” Relief so strong that it made him gasp hit him, and it dawned on him that he had been waiting…waiting for her to end them as well, and realising that he didn’t want that either and hesitantly he reached out to grasp her fingers, smiling faintly when her fingers curled around his.“You’re right.” You’re always right…
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Hermione had always thought that things would be different if they acted on the feelings that had been growing between them, that something fundamental would shift and change how they were, and if she was being honest that scared her. Harry had always been right there by her side, from that fateful night when they had finally become friends until now, even when they had fought she had known that he was there…that if she reached out and needed him, that he would reach back and she didn’t want to lose that…she couldn’t lose that. It was why she had nearly taken a different path, settled for a different kind of love just so that she could preserve what they had…nearly…in the end she couldn’t do it, their entire friendship had been about taking chances, risks and somehow making it work. It was months later, wrapped in his arms and bickering about the rights of House Elves and whether or not it was really necessary to fill their flat with Quidditch memorabilia, that she realised that whilst something had shifted in their relationship, it didn’t mean that everything had to be different.
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Harry woke to the feeling of Hermione’s fingers buried in his hair, it wass a sensation that hecould recognise even before managing to coax his eyes open, blinking as the world comes into view as a colourful blur. A familiar brown blur moved, and a moment later Hermione and the world came back into focus and he would have sighed with relief, but his wife’s eyes were red-rimmed and she looked as though she hasn’t slept for days.“Hermione…” His voice broke, a hoarse croak which tells him that he must’ve been out for a while, but before he can say anything Hermione is there, easing him up and holding a cup of water to his lips, scolding him when he drinks too fast. “What happened?” He asks when he’s had his fill, voice still a little hoarse and there’s a flash of irritation in her eyes, before it settles to fond exasperation.“You’re an idiot,” Hermione’s voice is soft, and he wants to scowl and point out that, that wasn’t an answer… although in a way it probably is…but instead his expression softs as she adds shakily. “But you’re my idiot, so please try to be more careful.”
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“H-Hermione,” Harry wanted to curse as he stumbled over his wife’s name, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to back away as she stalked towards him, wand out and tip already glowing. However, that wasn’t the reason for his fear…instead it was the smirk on her face, one that could have put Snape to shame that had him gulping nervously and holding his hands up in a weak attempt to keep her at bay. He had learned the hard way that, that expression meant he was in trouble and even after years of being together and practicing magic, he still hadn’t found a way of defending himself against her and so he fell back on a trusted method. “I’m sorry!” When in doubt apologise, Ron had been the one to teach him that, but then again, his best friend had never had to face this smirk and he knew that his attempt had failed when Hermione’s smirk grew and with that he abandoned all attempts at valour and dashed for the door, speeding up when he heard her voice shouting out a spell and already knowing he wasn’t going to make it.
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“What on earth…?” Harry glanced up at the sound of Hermione’s voice, grinning sheepishly as he took in her horrified expression as she stared around the room, taking in the piles of lemons covering nearly ever service. “Harry?”“Blame your daughter,” it would have probably worked better if he had been able to hold back a chuckle, glancing down at their daughter as Lily giggled and waved her hands, another lemon materialising at Hermione’s feet and drawing a choked noise from his wife. “She wanted lemonade…and I said no, and I’ve been getting lemons ever since.” Hermione’s mouth opened and closed several times, before taking a deep breath and adopting the same expression she had always worn when trying to talk Harry and Ron out of something.“Lily…” Apparently, their daughter was as willing to listen to lectures as her father, because her expression took on a typical toddler pout before she waved her hands again and this time Hermione was forced to dive for cover as half a dozen lemons materialised above her head.
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He was going to forget his words…or drop the rings…or throw up…those were the only thoughts that had been running through his mind since the moment Harry had roused him that morning, and so far, it was only the thought that Hermione would kill him if he did the latter that had kept his stomach under command. Why the hell is this so terrifying? They had survived the war…and Hogwarts…and NEWTS and the subsequent hunt for a job…and he had managed to ask her to marry him without any problems, unless you counted the fact that he had turned bright red when she had actually said yes…but the thought of screwing this up scared him more than Voldemort ever had. The rest of the morning had passed in haze of rehearsing his vows, checking that the rings were in Harry’s pockets where they belonged…checking that he was actually smart for once…and trying not to lose his stomach contents, and by the time he was standing in front of the alter he was a mess, hands twisting nervously in the front of his robes as he tried to ignore the amusement on his brothers’ faces…the tears in his mother’s eyes…and the fear coursing through his own body. Everything was rising to an overwhelming crescendo and then the music started and for one horrifying moment he thought he was going to really throw up or faint…but then he was turning and Hermione was there…and suddenly a small chuckle rose in the back of his throat, the panic of the morning fading away, because she was meeting his gaze without hesitation, smiling like she had the day she had accepted his proposal and he remembered that this was his Hermione…she already knew everything that he could do wrong, and she was still here, still willing to marry him and that was all that mattered…and when she slipped her hand into his a moment later, his own hand was perfectly steady.
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Harry blinked as the fans that had been pressing in on him a moment before were suddenly suspended upside down in the air, hastily diverting his gaze downwards as he realised that more than one of them had been wearing skirts which weren’t handling gravity well. Even just a year ago he would have reacted as though it was an attack, but he recognised the spell and he had a good idea who had cast it…this wasn’t the first time it had had happened when he was being mobbed by well-wishers who didn’t understand the concept of personal space.“Hermione,” he muttered, glancing to his side just in time to his girlfriend turn red, noting the way her fingers were turning white around her wand and he sighed before reached out to grasp her other hand. “Come on, the sooner you let them down the sooner we can get out of here…I thought you still wanted to go to Flourish and Blotts?” He knew he had her at that, although from the way her fingers had tightened around his it was more the fact that she was going to get to spend time on her own with him…and that he was thinking about her whilst surrounded by giggling fangirls that was calming her, banishing her jealousy at least until the next time and he let out a sigh of relief when she straightened with a nod and a small smile.
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“I lied…” Hermione blinked at the seemingly random comment, lifting her head from where it was resting on Harry’s chest and peering up at him, not sure what to make of the pensive expression on his face and something made her twist so that she was lying facing him.“About what?”“I did think about the future…” Harry murmured, a distant look in his eyes, his hand absently beginning to trace patterns on her back and she waited patiently, letting him gather his thoughts. “Back before we had even fought Voldemort…I thought about the future, about us…”“But you said…” You said that you had never thought about us…about the future…not until after the war when you knew you had one...“I couldn’t tell you,” Harry cut across her softly, his eyes finally focusing on her and Hermione felt her breath catch at the pain and hope in his gaze. “I didn’t want to promise something that might well never happen…but now…now I can…”
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Hermione wasn’t sure that she believed in the traditional concept of soulmates, the idea that someone out there was born a perfect match to you didn’t sit right with her. However, she was coming to believe that it was possible to become soulmates, that it was possible for two separate people to become a perfect match for one another through shared experiences…shared pain. Sighing at that thought she rolled over so that she could face her husband, eyes briefly darting to where you could just make out the faintest trace of the famous scar, before she let her gaze drift over his face. He finally looked at peace when sleeping, the nightmares of their school days long behind him…but it was the faint smile that caught her attention, the smile that she knew she had put there because it matched the one she wore looking at him now. If you had asked her back in first year if she could imagine marrying Harry Potter…let alone smiling at him as though he was the centre of the world she would have laughed at her, but now she couldn’t imagine anything different, he completed every part of her life…at some point between the war and their wedding he had manged to become her soulmate.
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“Remind me again, how is this going to make my swimming more beautiful?” Rei demanded, breathing heavily as Gou sighed and finally let him set aside the weights he had been training with, flopping onto his back and staring up at her. This was a new facet of his training this semester and he’d never seen her so enthusiastic about anything before, and he was beginning to understand why as he realised that she wasn’t meeting his gaze, but rather staring at his arms. “Gou…” He tried to sound exasperated, but it was tinged with amusement because she had never got over her love of muscles and he rolled his eyes as she turned as red as her hair, frantically tearing her gaze away as she realised that she had been caught.“It’s building your upper body strength so we can improve your times.” He was impressed with how even her voice was, and how she managed to make it sound so reasonable even with the blush still in full force.
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“Describe it to me?” Gou’s voice was soft, wary of breaking the silence that had fallen between them, comfortable unlike the awkward quiet that had been pushing them apart for the past few weeks. She heard Rei’s sharp intake of breath and felt him shifting, and with a sigh she reached up, finding his knee and moving her hand upwards until she could feel her way to his arm and down to his hand, twining their fingers together. “Please?” He had never been able to refuse her when she pleaded like that, and that was one of the few things this injury hadn’t changed and she felt him grasping her fingers.“The sun’s starting to set,” he began faltering, still more used to dealing with facts when it came to anything but swimming, and she leant against him, silently encouraging him to continue. “I-it’s beautiful, there are so many colours, just like when we all swam together.”
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Rei was standing tall in the living, suit perfectly creased and glasses polished within an inch of their life and he looked perfectly calm and Gou would have been impressed with his composure if she didn’t know him as well as she did. As it was she could see the minute tremble in his hands which he had clasped behind him, the way he was subtly shifting his weight from one foot to another, swallowing every couple of minutes. It didn’t help that she had heard him practicing what he wanted to say to her brother nearly every night that week, not that she had told him, touched that he was putting so much effort into it even though she had already said yes…and had no intention of changing her mind regardless of what Rin might or might not say.“Ryugazaki.” Rin had slipped into the room whilst they were distracted, managing to sound remarkably solemn for all of a minute before he flashed them both a grin before turning his attention back to Rei once more. “I hear you have something to ask me?”
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Rin frowned, pausing in the middle of kicking his shoes off as he realised that there was no sound coming from the rest of the apartment, even though Haru should’ve been home hours ago. “Haru?!” He called, feeling a prickle of unease as he received no answer, abandoning his effort to get his shoe off in favour of searching for his boyfriend. “Haru, where are…?” He trailed off, panic easing and expression softening as he stepped into the living room to find Haru sprawled on the couch, snoring softly and books lying abandoned across his stomach and on the ground beside him. Quietly he tiptoed across to remove the books, lightly touching Haru’s face and smiling when Haru leant into the touch, as much as he had been looking forward to spending time with him, he knew that Haru was tired with all his deadlines looming and so he limited himself to that touch before retreating and leaving Haru to sleep.
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Haru knew that he was being silly as he glowered at the people gathered around Makoto, drawn to his partner like moths to a flame…it had always been like this, Makoto’s easy going nature and friendly smile had always drawn people in, and normally he didn’t mind. It was something that made his boyfriend happy because Makoto loved being sociable, which made Haru wonder what on earth the taller man saw in him…but he didn’t complain, because watching it let him see the smile that he loved lighting up bright green eyes. However, today the sight of so many people…people he didn’t know, but who clearly knew Makoto…pressing so close to the boyfriend was causing a strange feeling to rise in his chest, and his expression darkened, his hand tightening around the glass of water in his hands. It was only when girl leant in far too close that he gave into that feeling, abandoning his water without a seconds thought and stalking across to his boyfriend, blue eyes glittering strangely as he pushed his way forward, fully intending to drag his partner away. Makoto had spotted him approaching though, and Haru felt like all the wind had been driven out of his sails as he was greeted with the most blinding smile he had ever seen and as he was yanked forwards into a tight hug, the dark feelings faded away completely…and he buried his face against the taller, blushing as he realised that he had been jealous for no reason, because he could feel it in the way Makoto’s arms had tightened around him…there was no way Makoto would ever let someone else this close.
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Sousuke knew that he made for an intimidating sight and usually he tried to soften his expression as much as possible when they were out and about, carefully watching Makoto out of the corner of his eye and trying to mimic him…something that his partner found endearing and flattering. However, today was not one of those days…he had stepped forward to stand next to his mate, trying to look as intimidating as possible, teal eyes flashing as he wrapped an arm around the trembling omega…his trembling omega. For a moment he was distracted from his rage, pulling Makoto into his side and beginning to draw soothing patterns on his back, a technique that always helped calm him after a fright or nightmare, but today…. after being dunked so abruptly and for so long it wasn’t enough, and he hastily switched tactics, tugging the other man into a tight hug.“Leave,” he snarled at the gathered swimming team who were beginning to realise that their actions which they had meant as fun, hadn’t been as fun as they intended, thankfully they heard the alpha in his voice…the threat…and turned and fled, leaving him free to turn back to Makoto, tilting his mate’s head up so that he would see frightened green eyes. “You’re okay,” he whispered, nuzzling their noses together, making no effort to steal a kiss as he was finally rewarded with a tiny nod before Makoto buried his face in the crook of Sousuke’s neck.“I am now…”
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“I-it was an accident!” Natsu cursed himself for stammering, but damn it Haru could be bloody terrifying at times, especially when it came to his precious water. He honestly hadn’t meant to evaporate the water…he had just been trying to heat it up for his partner as the boiler had gone on the blink again, but then he had got distracted by the sight of the swimmer wearing nothing but trunks, even though he should have got used to it by this point. It had only been the anguished noise from Haru that had alerted him to his mistake, and he had immediately yanked his hand away and began to utter frantic apologies. “I’m sorry…I’ll make it up to you.” Haru was still glaring at him, blue eyes glittering, but then something approaching a smirk crossed his lips and he crossed his arms.“I want another bath…and mackerel,” he demanded and Natsu nodded quickly in agreement, practically lunging for the taps to start running a bath and praying that they still had some fish in the freezer otherwise it meant venturing out in the snow…not that he would have much choice.
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Nitori was ready to cry, somehow managing to hold back his tears as he twisted around so that he could bury his face in Sousuke’s shoulder, feeling red creeping into his ears at the realization that he was being carried through to the changing room. He knew that he had been pushing himself too far, he had felt it in his aching limbs and the exhaustion weighing down on him this week, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to stop…he needed to keep up, to continue earning his place on the team.“Not like this,” the quiet reply startled him, and it took him a moment to realise that he had been rambling, speaking his thoughts aloud and blushing he peered up to find Sousuke staring down at him with concerned teal eyes. “You’re doing exactly what I did,” the older boy added, tilting his head towards his shoulder, and Nitori’s eyes widened with horror…guilt mixing with his embarrassment, realizing just how selfish he was being.“I…”“Don’t apologize…just stop pushing yourself so hard,” Sousuke cut across him softly, offering him a small smile before adding more seriously. “Otherwise Rin is going to kill both of us.” They both knew that was true, but Nitori had the impression that there was more to it than that, and whilst he was still embarrassed he hesitantly let himself curl closer to the taller man.
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Makoto frowned as he stepped into the bathroom, stunned to find no sign of his best friend even though he was always in the bath at this time, and something unpleasant churned in his stomach as he turned and hurried for the stairs.“Haru?” He called, hesitating for a moment outside of the other boy’s room but when there was still no response he reached for the handle and pushed it open, his mouth dropping open at the sight that met his eyes. Haru was sat huddled in the centre of his bed, his head buried against his knees as he rocked slightly backwards and forwards, seemingly unaware of Makoto’s presence, and surrounded by the torn remnants of what looked like prospectuses and more scouting letters. Haru-chan…He had told Rin that he thought the other boy was trying to work through what he was going to do in the future, but this was not what he had in mind and catching a small sniffle from his best friend had him moving forward before he knew what he was doing. He knew that he couldn’t protect Haru from his future indefinitely, but he could help him for now…he could shield him for just a little longer, and with that thought in mind he settled on the edge of the bed and drew Haru into a tight hug. “It’s okay Haru-chan…it’s going to be okay.”
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Sousuke shifted uneasily under the dark glare that Rin was shooting him…the same dark glare he had been receiving ever since the red-head had stormed into the emergency room, after receiving the call to say the taller man had wound up there after getting a little carried away in one of his coaching sessions.“Rin…” He began hesitantly, unable to bear the silence any longer and trying to head off the lecture that he could see forming…. well aware that he had well and truly ignited all of his boyfriend’s protective instincts.“No,” Rin cut across him with a scowl, red eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare Rin me…” His expression softened slightly as his gaze shifted to the sling that was now immobilizing his partner’s shoulder, something that he had been more than glad to see the back of…but which had been putting in an appearance more and more often lately as the taller man forgot the limitations of his own body. “You can’t keep doing this…”“I…”“So help me…I will lock you in our flat if need be until you learn to take care of yourself properly,” Rin growled and Sousuke immediately snapped his mouth shut, wincing at that threat, and realizing just how much trouble he was really in with the threat that followed. “Or even better I’ll set my mother on you!”
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Rei was fairly sure the headache that had settled in had become a permanent fixture, long fingers trembling slightly as he pinched at the bridge of his nose as he let himself close his eyes for a moment…right until he heard Nagisa moving away from him, and his eyes immediately snapped open again. Apparently not a moment too soon he realised watching as the oblivious blond stepped out into the street, purple eyes glued to the screen of his phone and muttering something about needing more Pokeballs and for half a minute Rei was tempted to let him go. Right until he noticed the car heading straight for the younger teen, at once the headache flared to new levels even as he sprang forward and tackled the blond out of the way, grunting as they both hit the road hard and watching the car zoom past with wide eyes.“Nagisa-kun…I am going to delete that app,” he hissed as he shoved the blond off him, unable to resist pulling him back into a tight hug once they were back on his feet. He’s safe…He’s an idiot, but he’s safe….
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Amber eyes glinted dangerously as Seijuro noticed the three boys that had gathered around his girlfriend, leaning in a little too close to the red-head to be seen as innocence, instantly taking in their hoodies which marked them as members of the swimming team they were going against in a couple of hours. He hesitated for half a moment, well aware that Gou preferred to take care of things herself most of the time, but when he saw one of them reaching out to brush her hair out of her face and all thoughts of waiting disappeared. Rin would kill him if anything happened to his sister…and he would let him, he realised as he hurtled forwards with a low growl, possessiveness and a need to protect lending him speed and he made sure to draw himself up to his full height as he came up behind Gou.“Hands off,” he snapped at the guy, taking satisfaction at the speed at which he was obeyed even as he draped an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder, relieved to notice that she welcomed his presence and seizing the opportunity to press a kiss to red-hair. “I believe that you might need some extra practice, if you want to beat me later…” It was a challenge and a threat…Gou would never let him fight…but beating them hands down at swimming could be satisfying as well, and clearly they had realised it was a threat as they beat a hasty retreat.
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“Here,” Rin muttered as he set a bottle of water and plate of food down beside Momo, noting how the younger boy jumped violently having been completely oblivious to his entrance, and red-eyes narrowed as he took in the dark shadows beneath amber eyes. “When was the last time you slept?”“Not sure…”“You need to sleep…”“I need to pass these exams…or I might be taken off the team,” Momo replied, a hint of desperation seeping into his voice, shaking his head frantically and Rin grimaced…that was a fear he knew all too well, and he knew for a fact that he had done the same as the younger boy was currently doing. He had needed a forceful intervention as well, and so taking a deep breath he yanked out the chair, seizing the younger boy and heaving him up over his shoulder.“All right…it’s bedtime for little Sea Otters…”
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Makoto smiled as he saw Sousuke creeping into the room, he had been wondering how long it would give his partner to give into his jealousy, fully aware that even now the other man was slightly put out by his closeness with Haru. Apparently his best friend had managed to pick up on what was happening, because with a sniff Haru told him to go and deal with Yamazaki and that they could catch up later, hanging up before Makoto could agree or disagree…and the brunette shook his head before closing his laptop and setting it aside before mock glaring at his boyfriend.“How old are you?” Sousuke blushed at the question, a little put out to realise that Nanase had been able to work out what was going on and that he had actually helped him out…he would have to be nice to him the next time they all met up. However, for now he had Makoto all to himself again, just how he liked it and despite his embarrassment he hastily moved across to the bed and dropped down beside his boyfriend, reaching out to entwine their fingers before leaning in for a kiss.“Mine…”
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Gou was pretending to be completely focused on the clipboard and stopwatch in her hand, but in reality she was Seijuro as he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. He had asked to come along to see her coaching, but she had a feeling that it was more to do with the fact that she had been ranting about the muscles that her new team had…a suspicion that had been confirmed when she had caught him giving the swimmers more than one warning flare, and she was struggling to hide her amusement. However, when she caught him growling at one swimmer who she knew was probably giving her a more than friendly glance, she knew that she had to do something before he gave into the temptation to explain personally whose girlfriend she was. Dropping her equipment onto the bench she turned and grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him down so that she could kiss him fiercely, enjoying the way amber eyes widened in surprise and giving her swimmers the finger from behind her back when they wolf-whistled at her.“There’s only one swimmer for me,” she told him fiercely when they parted, but she couldn’t resist teasing him as she let her hands trail down his shoulders. “As long as you keep this muscles in shape…”
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Momo was trying not to be jealous as he listened to Nitori rambling on about Rin yet again…hell he had to admit that he admired the older teen too, but he didn’t want to talk about him all the time, especially not on one of the rare evenings they had just to hide out. Every time he tried to steer the conversation towards new topics though, it seemed to always find its way back to swimming and more importantly their Senpai and eventually he’d had enough, shooting to his feet and heading for the door, only to come up short as Nitori grabbed his hand.“Where are you going?”“Back to my room,” Momo muttered, amber eyes dull as he turned to look at his boyfriend, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “As much as I love our team and admire out Senpai…I don’t want to hear about them tonight. I just wish…I wish you would see me as clearly as you seem them sometimes,” he whispered, tugging his hand free and bolting from the room before the silver-haired teen could stop him, missing the other teen’s reply.“I already do…”
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Intimidating was a word that Haru had never thought he would be able to associate with Makoto, the green-haired teen was too soft-hearted…too forgiving…too gentle…and yet right now as he stared up at his boyfriend’s back he felt a shiver go down his back. He caught a brief glimpse of green eyes, usually softened by a smile or dancing with laughter, but now narrowed to jade slits as he loomed over the swimmers who had stopped by to tease Haru about his disastrous solo race…the dark-haired swimmer had tried to hide his reaction, but as always it hadn’t worked on the taller teen.“Leave…” It was a low snarl, more like something he would have expected from Rin than from Makoto, and he felt it rumble through him and he found himself reaching out, only to pause, his fingers a short distance from Makoto’s back. He wasn’t frightened of the taller man…he could never be frightened of Makoto, but there was something intimidating about him right now…at least there was until a moment later when the other swimmers turned and bolted from the room, and Makoto was turning around and tugging him into a tight hug. This was the Makoto he knew…trembling, green eyes bright with the fear he had clearly been hiding and Haru sighed, burying his face in his partner’s chest.“Thank you…”
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“No!” Haru’s eyes were narrowed and he was struggling to maintain his stoic mask, sweat beading on his forehead as he trembled under the force of his heat even as he tried to push himself to his feet…to push past Makoto who was trying to keep him sat on the bed without using too much force. “I want to swim…” There was a hint of pleading in his voice now…he wanted the water…he wanted to swim so that he could cool down, so that he could forget the heat that was eating away at him.“Haru-chan…” Makoto sighed…this was a familiar argument, one that he had gone through one too many times, and this time as he met blue eyes, catching the strain even as his best friend’s scent filled the air he snapped…his alpha rising to the surface, and for once he made no effort to hold it back. “You’re not going,” he said firmly, flinching back as Haru growled at him, but it was clear that the order was taking hold as the omega slowly melted back on the bed. “Haru,” he hesitated for a moment, easily able to tell that he wasn’t in Haru’s good books right now, but the smell of heat was too much and he leant in and pressed a gentle kiss to the smaller teen’s lips…waiting with baited breath as the omega tensed for a moment, before meeting his gaze and nodding in consent.
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Sousuke hissed as he kneaded at his shoulder, each touch sending flashes of fire through him and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to ride it out…it was his own fault…he had got carried away helping out at the local swimming club, going so far as to demonstrate the strokes and now he was paying for it. He just hoped that it had subsided before…the sound of the front door banging open cut off that train of thought and his eyes flew open in alarm, and he gulped as he found himself staring into furious ruby eyes. It really wasn’t fair…he towered over Rin, and for the most part he knew that he was the scarier of the two…but right now, standing there above him with blazing eyes, hands on his hips as his gaze meandered down to where he was still clutching his shoulder, Rin made for an intimidating sight.“I…I’m sorry,” he whispered, hoping that he could stop the storm before it hit…only to flinch as Rin’s eyes narrowed and his boyfriend stalked towards him, growling under his breath. “Rin…I’m sorry,” he squeaked this time, only to flinch as the red-head reached out and grasped his shoulder with the gentlest touch he had ever felt.“I know…but you’ve got to be more careful…”
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Rin growled under his breath, hunching into an even tighter ball beneath the covers as he felt Sousuke’s weight settle on the end of the bed, burying his head under the pillow.“Go away…”“Rin,” Sousuke sighed, pain evident in his voice and Rin flinched, desperately trying to force back his omega instincts that were urging him to roll over…to face the alpha…to mend the shaky bond between them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it…unable to forget the feeling of Sousuke’s command rolling over him, trapping him, bending him to his will. It was the first time he had felt that power, and it had scared him, more than he wanted to admit and he didn’t know where to go from here. “Rin…please,” Sousuke was pleading, and a broken sob forced itself free as Rin quivered, fighting his instincts…fighting the desire to turn over and face his mate, instead shaking his head.
I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I don’t know what to do…
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“All right.” It took far longer than it should have for those two little words…words that he had begun to think he would never hear to break through the haze that settled over his thoughts whenever he was talking to Gou, and it took a few seconds longer for his voice to taper off. All right? She agreed to give me…to give us a chance…there’s no way…right? He had been chasing after her for so long, he must be imagining things and yet there she was, cheeks nearly as red as her hair as they stared at one another, and slowly it began to dawn on him that maybe…just maybe she wasn’t joking.“Y-you mean it?” His usual confidence…or bravado had fled, amber eyes filled with hope and fear as he stared at her…pleading for the truth and dreading it at the same time, and he jumped slightly when she stepped forward with a soft smile as she reached up to grasp his shoulder.“I mean it…just don’t tell my brother just yet…”
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“This is entirely your fault,” Gou grumbled even as she curled against Seijuro, humming in contentment as he his arms around her and drew her closer, pressing gentle kisses into her bed-mussed hair with an unrepentant grin.“Oh really?”“Yes,” Gou muttered, poking at him in an attempt to chase away the smirk…she had finally got herself into a rhythm, and learnt to deal with her heats on her own whilst he was away at college…only for him to turn up for a surprise visit, his enthusiastic greeting and the familiar scent that she had missed more than she had ever thought possible had sent her tumbling straight into her heat…a week early. “I had plans for this weekend, important plans…” It sounded weak even to her own ears, especially as his kisses had moved lower and she growled at him, before kissing him, refusing to let him take control even if she was the omega of the relationship…and considering the way amber eyes were gleaming down at him, he wasn’t complaining.
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Sousuke took in a deep breath as he stepped into the stadium, closing his eyes as the familiar smell of chlorine washed over him…even now he missed it, the dull ache in his shoulder an almost constant reminder of what he had been forced to leave behind. However, that wasn’t why he was here today, and he opened his eyes as he headed for the front row of seats, teal eyes scanning the teams gathered around the swimming pool, easily spotting the Samezuka banners. It didn’t take him long to spot the familiar silver hair, and a lazy grin crossed his face as he dropped into the first available seat…it had been nearly month since he had seen his omega, he had been busy with studying and Nitori had been frantically preparing for this tournament, and Sousuke hadn’t told his boyfriend that he was going to be here today. He was making bets with himself as to how long it would take Nitori to notice him, entertaining himself with thoughts about what they could do later on…and he jumped nearly a foot in the air a few minutes later when he was tackled from behind, eyes widening as he Nitori’s smell flooded his nose and he twisted his head to find the omega grinning at him triumphantly.
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Rin grunted as the younger teen landed on him, instinctively wrapping his arms around Momo to stop him from rolling off the bed and injuring himself…wondering just what had possessed him to fall for the hyperactive omega…a thought that was repeated a moment later as he caught a glimpse of the clock, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he realised that it was barely past six in the morning…on a day when they didn’t have training or school and could’ve been happily fast asleep for another few hours yet.“Momo…” The younger teen gave no indication that he had caught the warning tone, rolling over on Rin’s chest and peering at him with wide, amber eyes and a bright smile that already had the red-head’s irritation threatening to deflate.“You promised we’d go out today,” the omega reminded him, practically vibrating with excitement and Rin’s head fell back against the pillow…he had promised, after all it had been a long time since they’d had a date…but six in the morning? Baring his teeth he reached up and gently flicked the younger teen on the forehead, earning a yelp and an injured look.“Later…we’re going later!”
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Seijuro had never really given much thought to the fact that he had presented as an alpha, or what that would mean in the future…in school it was only useful when he was Captain, letting him keep the mixed team under control, although not without butting heads with some of the Alphas on the team. That had changed with Gou…he had known at once that he wanted to be her mate, unable to pull his attention away from her even when he could feel Rin’s gaze burning into his back…that had been his first challenge, proving himself as a suitable alpha to court the red-head’s sister without bowing down to the other teen, although it had been helped by the fact that Gou was not content to sit back and be the perfect little omega. It had taken time but he had won them both over…but that wasn’t the end of it because Gou shone brightly wherever she went, and not everyone was willing to accept the fact that she had accepted him…and it was couple of years later, as her hand came to rest on his shoulder as he chased away a wannabe alpha that he realised something. He still didn’t care that he was an alpha…but he did care that he was her alpha…
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Nitori was practically vibrating with nerves as he glanced over at the pool…it was his final high school tournament, and whilst he had come a long way since the start, today meant everything…there were scouts watching, and whilst he’d actually had a couple of offers already, he felt that he had to do even better and it was beginning to get to him. Trying not to start pacing he forced his gaze away from the scouts…away from the water and let it trail over the crowd, not that he was expecting anyone to be there, Rin had tried to get time off but his training was intense at the moment…and he hadn’t heard from Sousuke for a week, both of them busy with studying and in Nitori’s case training. Therefore, he was caught by surprise when he spotted teal eyes staring back at him, his mouth dropping open, before curling up in a smile as he realised his boyfriend had surprised him…they were too far to speak, but he could almost feel his alpha’s presence creeping over him and quelling the nerves in his stomach and he straightened with a determined nod, mouthing a ‘thank you’ at the older teen.
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Rin sighed as he finally spotted his wayward omega huddled on one of the benches down the corridor, he couldn’t see Momo’s face because the smaller teen had his head buried against his knees, but he didn’t need to…he could see how he was trembling, and he knew that the amber eyes were probably red-rimmed and swimming with tears right now. Taking a deep breath, he moved forward, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over his boyfriend when he reached him, before settling down beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders…he didn’t speak, wanting Momo to find his words for himself rather than because of an alpha command.“I lost…”“I know.”“I promised you that I would win.” So that’s the problem, Momo had always been big on promises, especially to him…. feeling that he absolutely had to keep his word if it was given to his alpha, but that wasn’t what Rin needed or wanted…and right now he wasn’t an alpha, but a concerned boyfriend, and he tugged the smaller teen into his lap, pressing a kiss to still damp hair.“Everyone loses…even I lose…You didn’t disappoint me, you didn’t break a promise…I loved watching you swim, I loved seeing how happy you looked just to be in the water.”
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Makoto narrowed his eyes as he realised that Haru had moved to stand between him and the pool…again. Normally that was a sign that his water mad boyfriend was about to dive into the pool without finishing his stretches or listening to Gou’s instructions, however, for the past couple of week’s Haru had been waiting for him to get in before following…and carefully inserting himself between Makoto and any form of water…it was only when the smaller teen tried to follow him into the shower after practice that he realised he needed to do something, and he quietly held Haru back after the others had left.“Haru-chan…what’s going on?” He asked softly…cautiously…relieved to see that Haru bristled at the term of endearment like normal, although it was short lived because Haru was refusing to look at him and trembling slightly, hands curling into fists in his lap. “Haru?”“I…have to protect you,” Haru finally whispered a few minutes later, slowly lifting his head to stare up at Makoto with darkened eyes. “I can’t let the water take you…” Makoto felt his eyes widen, his heart aching at the fear he could see in Haru’s gaze and he had leant forward and pulled the smaller teen into a hug before he had even registered what he was doing, feeling the shudder that went through his boyfriend before Haru tentatively returned the hug.
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Sousuke heaved a sigh of relief as he heard the door close behind Rin, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling for a moment before he doubled over with a cough, groaning as he was forced back onto his side…even as he savoured the silence. As much as he loved the red-head, he did tend to hover whenever Sousuke was ill or injured…to the point where he wanted to throttle him, and it had been sheer desperation that had led to him asking Rin to go away so that he could sleep. The silence that had followed that plea told him that he had hurt the shorter man, and part of him had been tempted to apologise…but then Rin had kissed him silently on the cheek before slipping out of the room without another word, leaving him in blissful silence. Of course now that he was on his own, all he had to focus on was the congested feeling in his nose, the cough that plagued him every few minutes and the headache thumping away in time with his breathing and he wanted to groan…as annoying as Rin’s hovering was it did at least distract him from everything else, and he bit his lip as he realised that he couldn’t call him back not after saying that and he moaned as he closed his eyes and tried to burrow under the pillow. Rin…please hurry back…
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Haru grumbled under his breath as he was shaken awake, opening his eyes just enough to let Makoto’s face swim into view…of course it was Makoto…there was no one else who would be checking on him when he was ill, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the gentle hand that was now resting on his forehead.“Makoto…” “How are you feeling Haru-chan?” Makoto was keeping his voice deliberately soft and light, the same tone he used when the twins were ill and that was more than enough to tell Haru that he was fully aware that he felt terrible…and he bit his lip…he knew that if he actually admitted it, Makoto would hover even more than he was now and usually that was something he tried to avoid, not wanting the taller teen to worry unnecessarily. But today he lacked the energy to put on a brave face, and he groaned as he lent into Makoto’s touch, bracing himself for the wave of worry to come before muttering under his breath.“Terrible…”
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Sousuke groaned as he heard his phone chiming yet again, and he was honestly tempted just to turn the blasted thing off so that he could sleep…he knew that Rin was missing him, hell he was missing the red-head more than he had expected. However, that didn’t make the constant messages coming through snapchat any more bearable…especially not at this time of night after a full day of college, and hours of coursework afterwards…. still he wasn’t quite at the point of ignoring him…yet, and with a defeated groan he rolled over and grabbed the phone. Apparently Rin had worked out that he was getting irritated and ready for sleep…because rather than a random picture of whatever had taken the red-head’s fancy, or a selfie…or the numerous pictures of the empty bed, the devil had sent him a less than safe for work picture and Sousuke cursed as all thoughts of sleep promptly fled his brain. Sitting up he hastily dialled Rin’s number, tapping his fingers impatiently against the bed although it was barely a minute before Rin answered, having clearly expected this response…and Sousuke growled at him as he heard the red-head laughing at him down the phone.“I hate you…”
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Seijuro had never imagined a situation where he would be intimidated by Rin Matsouka…that was until he had met Gou and fallen hard and fast for her. Asking her out had been simple enough, before she was fiery enough in her right to fend off her brother and as long as she was happy, he could deal with anything Rin through at him. This was different though…he was here tonight trying to get Rin’s blessing to ask Gou to marry him, and suddenly those crimson eyes were a hell of a lot more intimidating and he found himself stumbling…all his pre-prepared words disappearing on him and he found himself babbling.“She’s amazing…I adore her…I…” Those weren’t the words he wanted to say, and a sharp cough from the younger man cut him off and he blinked and took a deep breath…closing his eyes as he imagined Gou standing beside him…her warm smile, the crimson eyes that never seemed to dim, the way she went starry eyed at the sight of muscles…the way she curled against him at night, and when he opened his eyes once more he was calmer and his voice was clear as he stated simply. “I love her…”
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It amused Sousuke no end that Nitori hadn’t grown at all since their school days, and whilst he was careful not to mention it to the younger boy, he was glad of that fact and not just because it was amusing at times to see his boyfriend getting frustrated when he couldn’t reach things around the house. No, it was because he adored the fact that he could curl himself completely around the shorter man on the rare mornings they got to spend lazing around in bed…and watching Nitori leaning up on the very tips of his toes for a kiss. It was the soft, tinkling laugh when they went somewhere and Nitori could pass easily through the doorway without having to duck only for Sousuke to follow him blindly and bang his head. The annoyance and puffed up kitten impression whenever someone mistook Nitori for a younger relative, and the fierce kisses that would follow when the silver-haired teen made sure that everyone in the vicinity realised just who he was. And it was the fact that the shorter man who once upon a time had thought that he had no right to be part of the team let alone to stand at Sousuke’s side, had chosen to chase after him and cling to him all this time.
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He had never really given much thought to the fact that everyone was supposed to have a predetermined mate, even though his parents had told him and his brother often enough that somewhere out there was the person that would make the world stop for them…even when his friends began to find their mate, not disappearing completely from his life, but not there as much as they had been and he began to think that maybe it was a bad thing…what if you got stuck with someone you hated? What if fate or whatever chose wrong? So he chose to focus on his swimming, on being captain and ignore all thoughts and talk of mates and finding his, teaching himself to ignore the worry and disappointment in his parent’s eyes…the confusion amongst his friends…he didn’t care and he wasn’t going to change his mind…until he did. When he had first met Gou he had seen her merely as Rin’s little sister and the manager of a rival swim team…but then he had looked again…taking in the bright crimson eyes, the smile on her face and his breath caught as he found her looking back. In that instant he felt it…the world spinning to a halt, her presence becoming the focus of his world and he could see in her eyes that the same was happening to her, and all his doubts and suspicions began to melt away to be replaced with a warm sense of wonder…She’s my mate…
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Sousuke had felt the pull the first time he had met Nitori and he had known at once what it meant…he just didn’t know what to do about it. There was too much going on in his life as it was, his shoulder, the team, swimming, his rivalry with Nanase, his desire to get back his old friendship with Rin…his mind was splintering in a hundred different directions and the thought of adding something else, something so important terrified him. Then there was the fact that he had no idea how to be a mate…he knew that he was grumpy, and selfish and hung up on the past and he had no idea how to change…how to become what Nitori wanted or needed and so he ran, retreating from the silver-haired boy, even when he saw the hurt in his eyes. But the pull never went away…instead it intensified…rousing him with dreams of the other boy, turning his thoughts constantly towards Nitori and yet still he fought it…. then suddenly one day the pull snapped, and he found himself running through the school, following the echo of the pull out into the street outside…only to find the world fading around him as he took in the car blocking the road, the familiar flash of silver hair and the crimson now staining it.
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Gou was trembling, her chest heaving as she glowered up at Seijuro…every part of her was screaming at her to back down as golden eyes narrowed at her, and she felt herself beginning to tilt her head to the side, instinctively bearing her neck to her alpha only to stop herself with a growl. She needed to get out of here before she submitted to him, or before she said something that she regretted later…“I’m going out for a while,” it was physically painful for her to say that, and she could see the way his eyes were narrowing, a muscle clenching in his jaw and her expression softened as she realised that he was struggling just as hard against his instincts as she was. He had never once tried to enforce his will on her, and it warmed her to realise that was still true and she stepped forward, reaching out to grasp his hand briefly. “I’ll be back soon okay?” She could see that he didn’t want to let her go, felt the way his fingers tightened against hers for a moment before he released her with a sigh.“Yeah…see you soon.”
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Sousuke was breathing hard as he burst into the changing rooms, the stinging pain in his side and the urgent need to get here now slowly fading as he took a few steps forward, turquoise eyes narrowing as he spotted the source of his discomfort.“Ai?” The younger teen huddled further in on himself, and a low growl rumbled through Sousuke as he caught the pain that flickered across his mate’s side and the arm that was wrapped around his side. Sighing he reined in his anger before settling on the ground beside the younger teen and wrapping an arm around him…he didn’t need his instincts to know that this wasn’t an accident, and he also knew better than to push for answers when Ai was like this, so instead he pulled his mate into his side and rested his head against his. “You’re okay,” he whispered, pushing a tiny bit of his alpha voice into the words and he was pleased to feel the smaller teen relaxing slightly. Those who did this won’t be though, he added silently, making it a promise although he knew better than to say it aloud around Ai because the idiot would try to stop him…would try to protect whoever had hurt him…just to try and keep Sousuke out of trouble, even though the rules themselves would protect them.
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“Ai? Ai?! Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Ai?!” Nitori blinked, the battery of questions slowly breaking through to him and he blinked, lifting his head to find Rin crouched down in front of him and watching with wide, worried eyes. “Ai?”“Rin…” He trailed off, confused as to how he had ended up on the floor. What had happened? He glanced down and started to colour as he realised that his laces were undone and pooled beneath, remembering running forwards as soon as he spotted his boyfriend getting off the train and then the vague impression of falling. Groaning he buried his head in his hands, it had been a couple of months since they’d seen each other and the first thing he had done was go flying, and he muttered an apology, caught by surprise when Rin pulled him into a tight hug with a relieved sigh and more than a hint of fond exasperation.“Idiot.”
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He had done it, the weight of the medal around his neck was irrevocable proof that he’d done it and yet he still found himself blinking, feeling as though at any moment someone was going to turn around and tell him it was a joke. He was strung out, exhausted after months of intensive practice and the nerves of finally competing in the Olympics and even as a smile spread across his lips as he stared down at the medal, all he wanted to do was curl up and sleep for a week. No…there was one other thing he wanted to do first, and he looked up, scanning the people waiting by the gate and it didn’t take him long to spy wide, blue eyes and silvery hair, grin softening when Ai waved at him. Ignoring his coach, he sped up, forgetting about the medal around his neck and paying no mind to the other people trying to catch his attention, shoving his way through until his searching hands found his boyfriend. For once he didn’t care that they were in public, even as they both coloured as he pulled Ai into a heated kiss, the only way he could thank him right now for putting up with the hours of practice, the weeks away on training camps and the cameras that even now were zooming in on them.
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Rin groaned, grumbling under his breath as he swatted at the hand that was currently shaking his shoulder, not even bothering to open his eyes. He had stayed up too late the night before cramming, and he was determined that he was going to spend as long in bed as he could…“Rin-sempai…”“Ai, it’s too early…” He growled, burying his face deeper into the pillow before stilling, confused by the giggle that greeted his words and it took him another moment before realisation struck and he bolted up in bed. Ai! His boyfriend wasn’t supposed to be there until the weekend, and yet there he was perched on the edge of the bed and grinning at him. “Ai…”“Happy Birthday, Rin.”
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Rin sighed as he stepped out of the stadium and glanced around, thanking the stars for giving him a tall boyfriend as it was easy to spot the tall figure leaning against a tree on the other side of the road, and he tugged his jacket closer before hurrying towards Sousuke. He had been less than happy when he had climbed out of the pool, hoping for a hug and some commiserating words from his partner after losing his race even if it had only been for training, only to realise that the former swimmer had hightailed it at some point and he had every intention of growling at him because of it…right until he caught the uncertainty in the teal eyes that met his gaze as he approached and his expression immediately softened.“Sousuke…?” He asked as he closed the distance between them, eyes narrowing as Sousuke glanced away from him, and it was only when he caught the way his boyfriend reached out to him only to halt that he realised what was going on…Sousuke was only ever this hesitant when he doubted his place at Rin’s side, when he was jealous of the fact that others could be there when he couldn’t, and Rin shook his head before reaching out to grasp his partner’s hands as he said the words that he knew would make his boyfriend melt. “I missed you...”
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“No!” Rin growled as he moved to stand in front of the changing room door, teeth bared in a snarl as he glared up at Sousuke, undaunted by the dark glare the other teen was giving him or the fact that he towered over him. “I’m not going to let you hurt yourself!” He added with a hint of desperation, his eyes darting to Sousuke’s shoulder, easily spotting the redness from where his boyfriend had been rubbing at it earlier and noting the wince that escaped whenever Sousuke moved it wrong.“I’m fine…”“No you’re not!” Rin hated having to be the one to point that out, especially when Sousuke’s expression darkened, teal eyes filled with pain…anger…and fear as he glanced aside, and he felt himself waver for a moment and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. If Sousuke couldn’t be sensible about it, then he had to be…because he was the only one who could protect the taller teen from himself, he just wished that he had a way to do that without hurting his boyfriend.
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Haru blinked as his phone chimed for the sixth time in as many minutes…normally he never had the blasted thing on, but Makoto was away for a couple of weeks and he had wanted to make sure that he didn’t miss the other’s calls…but that wasn’t his ringtone. It was only when it chimed again a moment later that he finally gave in, rising to his feet and moving across to grab it, eyes narrowing as he spotted notifications from snapchat…he had never used the service before, he hadn’t even wanted to download it but Nagisa had insisted. Hesitating for a moment he clicked on the notifications, suspicions fading as he realised that it was Makoto who was sending him images and he slowly opened the first one, his expression melting into an almost smile as he found a selfie of his boyfriend on the train with the twins on either side of him fast asleep…in the next one they had clearly woken up and begun to fight over who got their brother’s lap…and each picture that followed showed the next step in the argument, and Haru felt a warm smile creeping onto his face. It wasn’t the same as being there, but it helped…and he knew that Makoto had worked out that Haru wasn’t as comfortable being left behind as he had pretended and was trying to include him…and with clumsy fingers he took a quick selfie, managing a wobbly smile and sent it to Makoto.
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“…he’s so quiet,” Oikawa murmured, sounding a little bit dazed as he watched Keiji marched away, having just finished tearing a strip off him for interrupting their date again. Iwaizumi was torn between grinning and sighing, gathering the scattered remnants of their lunch into his back and climbing to his feet.“You’d be quiet too if your Captain was like Bokuto,” he pointed out, straightening and glancing after his boyfriend. “Don’t mistake his quiet for shyness, and try not to annoy him again. It takes a lot to irritate him, but he’s fearless when he loses his temper, and he has a sharp tongue when he wants.” It wasn’t the first time his friend had irritated Keiji, but usually, it passed uncommented, but not today, and Keiji hadn’t been for backing down even in the face of Oikawa’s defensive anger…something that had made several people back away over the years.
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Iwaizumi frowned as Keiji shifted against him, clearly struggling to find a comfortable position and he pushed himself up so that he could look at his boyfriend. “Does it still hurt?”“Not really,” Keiji shrugged and then winced, reaching up to rub at his shoulder. A nasty collision on the court had seen him benched for the past couple of weeks, which was why he had taken the weekend to visit Hajime so he wouldn’t be tempted to join in with practice. “It’s just a bit sensitive still.”“Here,” he knocked Keiji’s hand away, fingers gentle as he began to massage the offending joint, carefully watching for any sign that he was causing further pain.
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Something flicked against his forehead, and Iwaizumi jolted out of his daydream, blinking as he found Oikawa pouting at him. “What?”“Did you hear a single word I said Iwa-chan?” Iwaizumi knew that the answer was written across his face, even before he shook his head. He had been listening at the start, something about extra practices… and then his thoughts had trailed off because while he knew they needed the practice, it would mean even less time to see Keiji, which was were enough as it was. “You’re hopeless,” Oikawa gripped his shoulders. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but even I’m not that cruel.” He spun Iwaizumi around to face the entrance to the changing rooms, and he blinked, expecting the sight that greeted him to fade away. A slow grin curling across his lips as Keiji smiled at him, looking as though he had just rushed here from the train station, flushed and breathing hard, and suddenly extra practices didn’t seem quite so daunting.
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Lavi recognised the heavy feeling of clawing his way back to consciousness more than he should have, and for a moment he was tempted to stop fighting. Lately, every injury had been part of some greater defeat, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to wake up just to hear more bad news, to find out who else they had lost in this seemingly endless war. However, he was too close to the surface, and he was stubborn, and already he could feel sounds bleeding into the blackness around him. There were voices, although the words weren’t quite reaching him where he was, and people moving around, and as he breathed, he realised that he recognised the smell of the infirmary. It was enough to bring a grimace to his face, and there was a brief pause in the voices and then a sudden flurry of movement, someone moving closer to him. Reaching for him, he realised with a jolt as he felt one of his hands gripped between two hands. Hands that he would recognise anywhere.“Al…en?” His voice came out as an awful, strangled noise and he blinked, black giving way to grey and then grey to blurry colours. He blinked again, and the world began to come back into focus, and with it, silver eyes and a weary smile tugged at his lips. “’ lo…” He mumbled the greeting catching on a too dry throat, but before he could ask, there was a warm hand under his back, lifting him up and a wonderfully cold glass was pressed to his lips, and he didn’t need Allen’s soft ‘drink’ to start sipping eagerly at the cool water inside.
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Allen jolted upright in bed, hands thrown hastily over his mouth to silence the cry that had been on his lips, not wanting to disturb Lavi’s sleep for a third time this week. However, the bed dipped beside him, Lavi’s quiet groan telling him that it was too late and he bowed his head, letting his hair fall forward to hide his face, hands falling to his lap as instead, he focused on just breathing. It was just a bad dream, he tried to tell himself, just as he did every time, but it was even less convincing than usual, and he trembled, breathing coming in short, shaky breaths. A dream. A bad dream… Gentle fingers brushed against his shoulder, shockingly warm against his chilled skin and he jolted violently, twisting around, arms half-raised in defence. Only to freeze as he found Lavi watching him worriedly, and something twisted and broke in the face of the concern he wasn’t sure he deserved, and the love beneath it. “Lavi…” You should go. I’m sorry. Help me… There were so many things that he wanted to say that he couldn’t say anything, and he shook his head helplessly, not sure what he wanted or needed at this point. Lavi seemed to realise, because his lips twisted in a frown but then he was moving, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Allen and pulling him in close, letting the shorter man come to rest against the steady beat of his heart.“I’m here, and you’re safe…”
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Mafuyu’s eyes crept open as he heard the sound of his front door opening and closing quietly, as though Uenoyama had been doing his best not to wake him. It was touching, as was the fact that for all his protests that he was going to leave straight away, he had stayed to take care of him, and even though he still felt ill a smile tugged at his lips as his eyes drifted to the drinks waiting for him. I brought you something. How long had it been since someone had done something like that? His smile dimmed, the answer a little too close, as were the memories and he locked his gaze on the bottles, trying to focus on the present rather than the past.
It’s not the same…
He could still feel the song he’d sung the day before, the words that had refused to be written but had burst out from him as soon as the music had started. Words about the past, about a different kind of love. His fingers trembling as he brushed them against his lips, remembering the surprising kiss that had followed, pressing a different kind of love against them.…and maybe that’s not a bad thing.
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“What are you working on?” The sudden question startled him, even though he had known that Uenoyama was going to meet him here, and he jerked, leaning forward to cover the pad tilted against his knees, even as he looked up to meet his…boyfriend’s gaze… And that was still taking getting used to, staring at him with wide, blue eyes, that held a touch of hurt at the reaction.“A new song…” He replied quickly, wanting to banish that hurt. It was slow going, but the words were flowing this time, and already he could feel more falling into place as the other teen paused absorbing his words, eyes darting to the screwed-up pages beside him and the blue ink staining his fingers.“Do…Should I leave you alone?”“No!” It came out a little too quickly, Uenoyama not the only one still uncertain of this new thing between them, and he blushed and looked down. “It helps having you close,” he admitted quietly.
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“Here.” Hak pressed the cup into Yona’s hands, crouching down when her fingers didn’t immediately curl around it, supporting it as he cupped her hands around it. “Drink,” he urged, not sure whether the tremble beneath his touch was because of the shock beginning to grip her, or his presence, as neither of them was sure about this strange new thing between them. Personally, he hoped that it was the former, even as he wanted to spare her from the darker side of their journey, and the path that was slowly curving around and leading them back towards a confrontation with the past and Soo-wan. Yona obeyed, taking a small sip and then another, and as she began to regain some colour, he let her take the cup in her own hands, moving round to sit next to her. Relieved and a little surprised when she immediately leaned into him, although he didn’t voice that thought aloud. Instead, he looked up and shook his head as he spotted Jae-ha peering in through the doorway, relieved when the other man got the hint and disappeared, trusting him to buy them a few more minutes of privacy, although he would undoubtedly pay for it in teasing later.“Thank you…” Yona’s voice was a thin tendril of its usual self, but it was a welcome sound after far too many minutes of silence and Hak nodded, pleased to see she looked more like herself, some of the fire back in her eyes as she looked up at him.
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“You’re up early.” Hak spun around at the sudden voice, the edge of his glaive coming to a shuddering halt far too close to Yona’s throat for comfort, and his mouth went dry. It was small comfort that she seemed unfazed by the near-miss, reaching up to gently push the blade away, and he let it fall without resistance.“Yona…”“I shouldn’t have startled you,” she smiled at him, stepping up alongside him, shivering as she pulled her cloak closer. It was barely light, and the lightening sky illuminated the frost on the ground. The first frost of the year and forgetting the near miss for now Hak reached for her and pulled her close, lending her his warmth even as his mind churned. He had missed the chill when he’d risen, focused on the need to practice and even now he was warm from his exertion, but this was just the first frost, the first brush of winter. Soon it would get worse, and they would need to find somewhere safe and warm to hole up, but for now he held Yona close, shielding her from it as best he could.
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Helplessness.
It wasn’t a feeling that Lan Zhan was used to, and it swept up and over him with devastating force as he watched Wei Ying walking away from him. He had believed that the other man was dead, had grieved for him in a way that he had never expected to, and then he had been there. Changed, but wonderfully, miraculously alive, and he had been prepared to look beyond the horrors he had witness tonight, and those that he knew had marked the other man’s path to this place. Willing to turn a blind eye as long as he had the other man back, as long as he could ease the ache in his heart that had come from his ‘loss’. He had been unprepared for his words, his pleas, being brushed aside with such cold indifference, or the gnawing, aching distance that was surging into the space between them as Wei Ying walked away for him. And now he was lost, unable to do anything but watch, stomach tying itself in knots as he realised that he was losing him all over again, and that there was nothing he could do about it.
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Memory surged as he was pulled out from under the shelter of the tree to stand in the rain and for a moment, Lan Zhan was back on another rainy night. It had been a different time and place, a different life, and yet for a moment, he froze, caught in the pain of that memory. Eerie flute music cutting through the air, the sound curling around him even as it left him untouched. Rain falling, masking the tears that he hadn’t been able to stop from falling as Wei Ying had walked away from him… Gentle fingers brought him back to the present, and he blinked, startled to find Wei Ying staring at him with sad eyes as he wiped the moisture from his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if either of them knew if it was the rain or tears that were being brushed aside. It didn’t really matter he realised as he studied the shorter man, seeing an echo of the memories that haunted him in the grey eyes. A past that couldn’t be forgotten, but one that they could move on from. He stepped forward, grasping the hand that fell away from his face. Squeezing it lightly, before leaning in to kiss him, just a gentle brush of the lips, but one that held a promise of the future.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Karma came too with a groan, confused to find himself sprawled on the floor, lying on top of what felt like a layer of debris from the feeling of rough edges pressing into his back. There was a weight across his front too, one that had his stomach tying itself in knots, but he wasn’t ready to look, some unescapable dread clawing at him. What the hell happened? They had been stood by the sink, Nagisa washing the dishes and Karma trying to distract him. Nagisa… He vaguely remembered his partner twisting in his arms, panicked clouding his features and then the world had seemed to explode around them. Wincing, he tried to push himself upright, no longer interested in what had happened, but rather on where Nagisa was, only to still as the weight on his front shifted and he stilled.“Nagisa…” The word slipped out, a curse and a plea all at once because his partner was sprawled across him, his clothing shredded and blood seeping from numerous cuts. Nagisa was frighteningly still, and for a long, terrifying moment Karma feared the worse, knowing that was what he had been trying to hide from, and why he had avoided looking until now. But then he felt the tickle of warm breath against his skin, and suddenly he remembered how to breathe, lurching forward. “Nagisa! NAGISA!”
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The apartment was quiet when Nagisa stepped inside, quickly depositing his bag and wincing as he straightened. As much as he wanted to deny it, he probably should have remained in the hospital longer, but that would have meant being away from home longer. Away from Karma. Away from a Karma that didn’t know what had happened, who had been kept in the dark because Nagisa’s employers had demanded it, even when Nagisa had nearly died. Karma who had probably spent weeks believing that his partner was dead. It was enough to make him hesitate, heart, twisting in his chest. He knew that he would never survive that kind of wait, that lack of news, and here he was having forced that on his partner.“Karma?” He called softly when he eventually managed to gather his courage enough to move forward, his voice lost in the silence of the flat. There was a pause, and for a moment he wondered if Karma was even here, but then there was a soft gasp from the living room, and the sound of feet stumbling in his direction, and when Karma appeared in the doorway he froze. Karma looked awful. There were deep, violet marks beneath his eyes, making him look as though he had been punched, while the slump of his shoulders and the dullness in the usually vibrant gold eyes told him that it was exhaustion. He was pale, and it seemed as though he had aged years since Nagisa had last seen him, and right now, he was looking at Nagisa as though he was a ghost. “N-Nagisa...?” Nagisa couldn’t speak, too stunned to find the words, but he managed to nod and with a noise that was half broken laugh, and half sob, Karma stumbled towards him, reaching out to yank him into a tight hug.
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“… S-Saru… Saru!” Fushimi blinked. He knew that voice, but right now, he couldn’t place it. He couldn’t ignore it either, because there was something about the way it wavered and cracked in the middle that tugged on his heart. I’m here. He thought, certain that he was blinking, and yet the world around him remained dark.“Come on, Saru.” Whoever was talking to him had taken a deep breath and sounded a little more composed and yet Fushimi was sure that it was an act, although he didn’t know where that certainty had come from. “Please…” There it was again, the wavering in the middle of the plea and Fushimi snarled under his breath, trying to claw his way towards the sound, wanting to answer that plea even if he didn’t understand. It seemed to take forever, or maybe it was only a few seconds before the darkness gave way to a blurry vision of an unfamiliar ceiling. He blinked and blinked again, and then a familiar face appeared above him.“Mi…saki?”
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Fushimi cursed as his left foot slipped on the ice, nearly sending him toppling and for a moment he froze, hearing the ice creaking beneath his feet. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was highly aware of the riverbank and how easy it would be to fall back to safety. But he resisted the urge to glance behind him, his gaze locked on Yata’s still form and the web of cracks spreading around him from where the vanguard had slammed into the ice at speed after the Strain had launched him off the top of the bank.“Misaki!” He called again, not entirely sure that having Yata awake was going to help things, because if he panicked or used his flames, then he or possibly both of them were going to end up in the freezing cold river. Still, it had to be better than the unnerving stillness, and the blossom of red he could see forming a halo around Yata’s head. There was no response, and taking a deep breath and whispering a prayer Fushimi continued to edge forward, aware of every creak and shift beneath his feet, inching closer and closer, and trying not think about the fact that he had no idea what he was going to do when he reached Yata.
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“I thought I might find you up here,” Akihiko broke first, breaking the strained silence that had greeted his arrival on the rooftop, eyes narrowing when Haruki didn’t so much as twitch at his voice even though he had to have heard him. Biting back something he might regret, he took a moment to study the other man, eyes lingering as always on Haruki’s ponytail, fingers itching to reach out and touch, but he had a sense that wouldn’t be welcomed today. His gaze moved on, taking in the tense shoulders, unsure whether the tension was because of the issues with the band, or the as-yet unspoken thing between them, the flustered glances and blushes that he had noticed but wasn’t sure how to comment on. Probably both, he thought with a sigh, eyes rising to follow the trail of smoke rising into the hand from the half-forgotten cigarette, and he seized on, even as he hated himself for taking the easy route into this conversation as he stepped forward. “Do you have a light?”
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Tsukishima saw the ball coming and moved, only to find himself faltering as he caught a shadow in the corner of his eye, and he fell back, waiting for the blur of orange and black that was Hinata to dart past him. Too late he remembered that wasn’t possible, his stomach twisting itself in knots and his arms fell by his side, watching numbly as the ball hit the net and landed on their side of the court. He was vaguely aware of the score being shouted, and of various questions being thrown at it, but he was deaf to them all, standing there, hands curling into fists at his side.
He’s not here.
He knew that. Had seen the disappointment in Hinata’s eyes when he had helped him hobble to his mother’s car before he headed to practice and promised to stop by on the way home. But it didn’t feel right being here without him. For all that the talk of suns and moons could irritate him at times, they balanced each other, they always had, even before they’d started dating and right now, he felt off-kilter, and he hated it.
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“Are you still awake?” Tsukishima asked, poking his boyfriend in the side, lips quirking as it immediately earned him a sleepy grumble before Hinata snuggled closer. He clicked his tongue, unable to stop himself feigning irritation even now as he lifted his arm to accommodate the shorter teen, glancing down at the wild ginger hair tickling his jaw. “You’re going to miss the meteor shower,” he tried again, but he kept his voice quiet, well aware that Hinata had been doing extra practice and was tired. It was why he’d suggested that he come up here alone to watch the shower, only to be met by a pout that had caused the words to die on the tip of his tongue. ““I’m awake…” It was punctuated by a yawn, and he wasn’t sure that either of them believed the words, but it softened his sigh as he ran his fingers through the messy hair.“You could have stayed home you know,” he pointed out, and this time he was rewarded by Hinata peeking up at him with sleepy eyes as he mumbled.“Cameforyou…”
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Gods, he was a mess.
Haruki had avoided looking at his reflection for the last few days, or maybe it had been longer, his sense of time distorted since… he shivered, arms creeping around himself, as though he could shield himself from the truth. From the loss. From the memories. Besides, he hadn’t needed to see his reflection to know that he was a mess, he could see it in his friend’s eyes when they came to check on him, and hear it in the hesitant way everyone asked how he was doing, as though a single wrong word would make him shatter.
It’s too late for that.
However, he hadn’t really been prepared for the sight that had greeted him when he’d finally stepped in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully avoiding looking at the cup with their…his… the toothbrush that didn’t belong to him, or at the glint of an earring on the edge of the sink, left from before that awful night. Instead, he’d focused on himself, and found himself staring at the face of a stranger. He was pale, which was to be expected as he hadn’t left the house since the funeral, and there were dark shadows under his eyes that made it look as though he’d been punched, again not unexpected as he was barely sleeping. No, it was his eyes that gave him pause, because something was missing, a colour, a spark… the light that appeared whenever he had been around, or when they were talking, and his hair. Numbly he reached up to tug at the tangled mess, only to freeze as a memory flashed through his mind, the echo of another hand doing just the same, and his breath caught on a sob.
Akihiko…
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It really wasn’t fair. Haruki’s world had narrowed down to the man sprawled across him, the weight pressing him further into the bed, his vision filled with blond hair and his nose teased with the tantalising scent of Akihiko’s cologne. I hate him, he thought, feeling the steady beat of Akihiko’s heart where their chests were pressed together, warm breath tickling the side of his neck. Calm. Collected. As though this was a perfectly ordinary moment, as though Haruki wasn’t laying there with everything he wanted literally in his lap, and yet seemingly further away than ever. And for a moment he was half tempted to push the other man off, feeling his own heart beginning to pound, breath catching as Akihiko mumbled something that could have been his name under his breath before curling closer. I love him, he thought, just as despairingly, as the temptation faded and he let his half-raised arms fall back against the bed, gaze focused on the ceiling, as though it might offer some solution to his situation.
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He was almost free, a few more steps and he would reach the door and the promise of warmth inside. It was Makkachin’s excited barking that told him that it was too late, recognising the particular note of excitement in the frantic barking, and then Victor was on him, long arms wrapping around him from behind and pulling him close. “Yuuri…” The soft murmur of his name and the kiss pressed to the tip of his ear had him relaxing, and almost melting into his partner. Too late, he realised that had been precisely what Victor was waiting for, and he couldn’t stifle a yelp, as snow was shoved down the back of his coat, shivering as it hit his skin.“Victor!” He protested as he twisted around to face the other man, only to pause as he found himself confronted with dancing eyes, and reddened cheeks and wide smile, Victor unrepentant even as he let the remaining snow drop from his hands. You’re going to pay for that, he thought but didn’t say, seizing the opportunity and catching Victor off guard as he sprang forward, using his weight to topple them both into the snow, laughing as Victor immediately began to protest loudly as the snow soaked into his clothing.
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Victor hissed as he ran a finger over the bruises that littered his leg, the result of a slip on the ice the day before when he’d allowed himself to get distracted by watching Yuuri. It had been a while since he had slipped, and he’d forgotten how much it could hurt, an ache that had made it hard to find a comfortable position to sleep in and which made the thought of strapping on his skates and practising much harder than usual. He’d practised with worse before, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t reluctant, and he was just trying to work out how bad it would be if he slipped away, when a hand brushed his shoulder, and he looked up just as Yuuri moved around to crouch down in front of him. The gentle touch had been a balm, but so was the soft smile on his partner’s face as he leaned in to kiss him gently, mindful of his leg, before leaning back, and the knowing edge to his voice as he said quietly. “I’ve told them that we’re taking the day off.”
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Kanda had never been the best at relating to other people. Not because he didn’t care, although most of the time he tried to pretend that he didn’t, but because reaching out like that and showing that he did in fact care, felt like exposing himself. Which was a weakness that he could never allow himself. It had helped that when he’d first met Allen Walker, he’d seen someone who was walking straight towards their own death, the cursed Exorcist like a fragile butterfly caught in a tempest. Another weakness, and one that he wouldn’t entertain, or at least that was what he’d told himself. However, at some point, that resolve had crumbled, and he still wasn’t entirely sure when that had happened. Perhaps it had been when he had thought that Allen was dead, and the crushing weight of realising that it was too late, or maybe it was the way the idiot was always there. Always ready to put everything on the line for what he believed for and those he cared about, including for some inexplicable reason a grumpy, swordsman who had done more than most to try and push him away. Which was why he was both bewildered, and strangely content to find himself spending a rare day between missions lying out in the garden with Allen curled against his side. That was another change, and there were times when it had felt like they had barely touched on being friends – which was apparently what Lavi and Lenalee called their stage of bickering and calling each other names – before falling into this new, strange and beautiful thing. And there were moments like now when he reached out for Allen that he half expected his fingers to close on empty air, and for him to wake up and find out that this had all been a dream. Instead, his fingers brushed against a warm body and loose material. Too loose he realised, tilting his head to look at Allen, and feeling a surge of warmth in his chest as he realised that Allen had stolen one of his shirts, the material swamping him. A silver eye flicking open to look at him, Allen smiling and turning pink as he realised that he had been caught, mouth opening no doubt with some excuse or quip, and Kanda found himself reaching out. Searching through the excess material until he found soft, warm skin, proof that this was real and he couldn’t help but stroke it, even as he scolded Allen. “Is there something wrong with your own clothes, Moyashi?” He even drawled the nickname, knowing it would wind up his partner. Instead, there was a noise that he could only describe as a squeak as Allen tried to wiggle away from him, and Kanda blinked, taking a second to connect the dots between his fingers that were now mourning the loss of Allen’s skin and the sound, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Moy-as-shi…”“Don’t,” Allen pleaded, already trying to scoot away, but Kanda was quicker. Unfolding from his position and pouncing on the smaller Exorcist and trapping him in place, staring down at him for a moment. The sight of Allen in his shirt was even better from here, and for a moment he was almost allowed himself to be distracted, especially as a delightful flush dusted Allen’s cheeks and began to creep lower, down his throat and into the folds of the shirt. “Kanda, please…” The spell was broken, and Kanda merely looked at him, hands roaming lower before darting to Allen’s side and tickling him deliberately this time, and Allen squeaked as he began to wiggle and squirm, trying not to laugh even as he grew pinker and pinker by the moment. However, Kanda was relentless, especially when the first bit of laughter slipped free, a sound that he rarely heard these days, and he was determined to hear as much as possible even as he soaked up the fact that this was his.
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Tyki sighed as he slipped into the library, and spotted the familiar figure sat in the window. He’d been searching all over the mansion for Allen since lunchtime, trying to ignore the small voice in the back of his mind that was wondering if Allen had finally come to his senses and seen that this…whatever the hell this thing between them was, couldn’t last. Not with the war. Not with their own sides constantly trying to pull them apart. It had been easy to ignore at first, because Allen had been there that morning, greeting him with a sleepy smile and kiss, no shadows in his eyes after a rare peaceful night. But, when there was no sign of Allen in any of their usual spots – the ones where the rest of his family wouldn’t bother them – it became harder to ignore. Especially as he knew that Allen had more to lose, if or rather when everything came crumbling down, and the library had been his last hope. Still, his relief was dimmed somewhat by the sight of Allen huddled on the window ledge, looking as though he was trying to hide away from the world, his gaze locked on something outside. Or more likely, something that only he could see – whether because of his curse, or whatever thoughts had put that pensive expression on his face and it made Tyki hesitate to approach him. Not because he wouldn’t be welcomed, or because of the secrets – they both had more than their fair share of those, it was the nature of war and their relationship – but because it seemed to him as though Allen was perched on the edge of some precipice that he couldn’t quite see, and as much as he loved to prod and provoke most people, he didn’t want to be the one to push Allen over that edge.“I know that you’re there,” Allen was the first to break the silence, not tearing his gaze away from the window, but some of the tension in him seemed to relax at the words. “Tyki…” There was something in his voice, question, a plea, as though he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted or needed either.It was enough. Tyki closed the door behind him and locked it. It was rare to find any of the others venturing into here, but he didn’t want to risk it. Not that a locked door would stop them if they really wanted to get in. Then he padded across to Allen, watching closely for any sign that he should stop or that Allen had changed his mind, but his partner was quiet and unmoving. However, while it would look to the casual observer as though Allen was still focused on the window, Tyki knew better, could feel the weight of his gaze even though he wasn’t looking at him. What are you thinking? He could read most people, and most of the time he could read Allen too, but there was something lost about him right now, a haze, and it left him without guidance as he moved within reach. “Allen…?” It was his turn to ask, even as he reached out to press a hand to Allen’s shoulder, noting the trembling that he had missed before and he was about to pull away, unwilling to push too far when Allen’s hand shot out and caught his.“Don’t…”
Don’t let go…
Don’t leave me…
It could have been either, but for now, at least his answer was the same as he stepped closer instead, moving so that he could perch on the window sill beside Allen before reaching out to wrap both arms around him, his partner letting go as he realised that Tyki wasn’t going anywhere. Allowing Tyki to pull him closer, even as he turned and buried his face in his partner’s chest, losing himself in the warmth and familiar scent, but not so much that he missed the kiss to the top his head or the quiet. “I won’t.”
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If anyone had asked, Tsukishima would say that the moment of change had come during the match against Shiratorizawa when it had no longer been enough to hold back and observe. His aloofness melting away, as he finally had that moment where everything came together, shifting, melting and reforging into a burning desire to fight. The moment when volleyball, which had just been a club, something to keep him occupied had become much more.
It wasn’t entirely a lie.
But nor was it the whole truth and he gritted his teeth as he glanced across at where Hinata was babbling excitedly with Nishinoya about something. I’m still no match to him, that thought lingered, despite everything that had happened. However, it didn’t have the crushing weight that it had once had. Instead, it was… He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, and that irritated him more than the fact that there was something, and that it was tied to Hinata of all people.
“Tsuki?” Yamaguchi asked, and Tsukishima glanced at him, unable to fully draw his attention away from the noise and colour where Hinata was. “You have the strangest expression on your face.” That caught his attention, and he coloured before scowling.
“No, I don’t…” He snapped, earning a squeak from Yamaguchi and he finally managed to turn around as he put a name to the feeling rising in his chest.
Frustrating…
…and exciting…
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Usually, Fushimi could predict precisely what Misaki was going to do. It was something that would have bored him about anyone else, but there had always been something about the vanguard that caught his attention. However, when he opened his front door muttering dire threats under his breath as it was already gone midnight, he was caught off guard to find Misaki stood on the doorstep. Why? He immediately braced for an attack, trying to think of what he had done or said recently that could have made Misaki seek him out like this. It took him longer than it should have – something that he blamed on the late hour, rather than surprise – to realise that the other man didn’t have his skateboard or a weapon of any sort. In fact, right then, with his head bowed and shoulders hunched in, he looked less like the proud vanguard that rushed headlong into everything, and more like the frightened teen from the night, they had failed to hack JUNGLE. It was unsettling, and it tugged on something that he thought long lost, and not knowing what else to do, he moved to close the front door. That finally startled Misaki into movement, his hand flying out to stop the door“What do you want Misaki?” He deliberately drew out the other’s name, knowing that it was one of the easiest ways to rile up Yata, but there was nothing, not even a twitch. And for the first time, he felt his irritation and surprise giving way to something softer. Concern. “Yata?” He wasn’t sure whether it was his tone or the use of his preferred name, but Misaki finally lifted his head to look at him, and Fushimi found himself swallowing uncomfortably. Misaki had been crying, and recently if the redness around his eyes was anything to go by and understanding struck like a bolt of lightning. Totsuka. He remembered the fleeting terror that had gripped him when he’d first heard that one of HOMRA had been killed. At the time, he’d somehow managed to mask the fear and panic that had gripped him, although he was reasonably sure that Munakata knew why he had been the first to ask about what was happening rather than waiting to be filled in like usual.He had been terrified that it had been Misaki. He remembered that fear now, the sinking feeling of dread that threatened to blossom into fury, and he sighed, realising that Misaki hadn’t had that release. That he was still dealing with what had happened, with the evidence that Kings and sanctums didn’t mean that you could protect everything precious to you. It was a lesson he’d tried to drill into Misaki for ages, and yet at that moment as he met the vanguard’s gaze, and saw a little less of the wonder he’d once loved, a little less fire, he wished that it was a lesson that he’d never had to learn.“Saruhiko…” Misaki sounded like hell, and it scared Fushimi almost as much as the thought of losing him had that morning because there was a fragility in his voice that could be exploited. Fracture lines, just waiting to shatter the vanguard. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?” The words tiptoed out, as though he was reluctant to ask for what he needed, or more likely, as though he was expecting to be turned away. I should turn him away, Fushimi thought, knowing that the situation between the Clans was complicated enough right now without them blurring those lines, and yet he couldn’t find the words to say it. Perhaps, it was because he could see those fracture lines spreading, a breaking waiting to happen if he said the wrong thing. Or maybe it was the dawning realisation that even with the rest of HOMRA at his back, it was him that Yata had sought out in his moment of need, but he found himself taking a step back and opening the door wider.“Just for tonight,” he warned, voice sharp. Although he wasn’t sure whether the warning was Misaki who looked more relieved than he could have ever imagined, or for himself, as something warm and painful rose in his chest, as Yata gave an exhausted nod and stepped inside.
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Zen hadn’t expected to find the light on when he’d walked past the rooms where Shirayuki worked, his feet taking him that root, even though he’d been focused on getting to bed as quickly as possible as paperwork had kept him up a lot later than he’d expected. Perhaps it had been instinct he thought, as he frowned at the light streaming from under the door. He knew that it might be one of the others who were working this late, but deep down, he knew that there was only one person who would push herself that hard. He hesitated for a moment. They’d barely had time to say hello in passing, let alone have a real conversation for the past couple of weeks, and he wasn’t sure that this late at night, when they were both exhausted was the best time to break that trend. But, he had missed her, an ache that had grown each day spent apart, and he was already here anyway, and before he knew what he was doing, he was at the door and knocking quietly. There was no answer, but he knew that meant nothing. Shirayuki was able to block out the entire world when she was really focusing on something, so after a moment, he pushed open the door and slipped inside. The room was warm and smelled of herbs and other things that he couldn’t put a name to, and it was lit with the warm glow of lanterns, although most of them were burning low now he noticed, as he moved further into the room.And there she was. His lips curled up in a soft smile as he watched her. She was bent over a hefty tome that he found it hard to imagine her lifting, let alone carrying around, the desk around it scattered with pages of her own neat handwriting. She was muttering under her breath, her forehead creased with concentration and he barely dared to breathe for fear of disturbing her as she glanced at the beaker she was holding in one hand, before lifting up as though intending to study it against the light. That was when their eyes met, and there was a fleeting pause before she jolted with a startled squeak, hastily pulling the beaker against her chest to protect it, her eyes wide. “Zen?!” There was joy in her voice, even though it was phrased as a question, and he grinned sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head.“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He blurted, suddenly at a loss at what else to say and she blinked at him, startled before she giggled.“I could say the same to you,” she teased, and just like the awkwardness fled. The weeks with no time to talk bleeding away, and leaving a comfortable quiet that had him stepping forward. “I’m nearly done if you wanted to stay a little while…” It wasn’t quite a question, as though she already knew the answer and he smiled and nodded, settling into the chair next to her work station. It wasn’t close enough, not after the last couple of weeks, and he reached out, to grasp her wrist as she set the beaker down, squeezing lightly and she smiled as she briefly rested her hand on top you.
I’ve missed you.
I’ve missed you too.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Karma was waiting for him when he returned from his latest mission, just as Nagisa had known he would be. There had been no way for him to hide that things had gone awry, knowing that it had bled into his voice when they’d talked on the phone. Not, that it seemed to matter whether he masked it or not as his husband always seemed to know when something was wrong. Usually, that was a comfort, a reason for him to rush home and ground himself in the other man’s arms.Tonight, it unleashed something dark and ugly in his chest. He didn’t speak. Perhaps that was why Karma managed to dodge out of the path of his first attack, because he had always been his most dangerous when he was quiet, and frustration brought a soft noise to his lips as he twisted, aiming for a second strike. This one hit home. But although Karma had declined the offer to keep working as an assassin, especially when news of their relationship had spread, he hadn’t let his skills atrophy. Perhaps because of these moments when the darkness bubbled up, and the sleeping, curling thing in Nagisa burst free. Either way, he caught the blow and redirected it, causing Nagisa to stumble slightly. In high school, that might have been enough, especially as his skills lay in assassination and not in fighting, but that was years ago. He had changed and grown since then. There were always going to be people who were bigger, stronger and faster than him, and he’d learned to fight against those advantages, because of the man in front of him. Because he had someone and somewhere to come back to, to fight for, and call home. Now, he poured that into the moment, twisting away as Karma tried to trap him in place, undulating like a snake as he shifted to behind Karma. Going for the kill. It was like lightning ripping through the back of his mind as the thought registered, throwing off his attack, and this time as Karma – slower than him, but faster than many moved out of the path of danger – before whirling and not attacking, but reaching for him, he didn’t fight. He couldn’t. The whole world narrowing down to the fact that for a split second, he had been going for the kill. Warm arms wrapped around him, gentle despite what he’d nearly done, and then he was being pulled forwards. For a moment he resisted, the darkness giving way to guild, but Karma was irresistible right then, eyes glittering down at him, and Nagisa surrendered to him, closing the last of the distance willingly. Practically crumpling against his husband’s chest, chasing the reassuring beat of Karma’s heartbeat as he was held close, hands moving in soothing patterns against his back. Forgiving him, accepting his darkness and welcoming him home all without a word, and the world lightened just a bit as he melted into that absolution.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
There was a muffled boom in the distance, and Kirito paused, no longer listening to Asuna’s plans for her haul from the market as he glanced at the thick panes of glass that surrounded them, affording a breath-taking view of the teal-tinted waters surrounding the city. Not for the first time since they’d first docked in the city, he found himself missing the certainty of solid ground beneath their feet – even in the flying fortress in Aincrad, you’d known that there was something beneath you, but here there was nothing but unfathomable blue waiting to pull you under.“Kirito?”“Sorry, I…” He started to turn back when there was another boom only this one was much closer, and they both whirled, just in time to see flame engulf the war end of the bridge. The vibrations from the explosion reaching them a second later and there was a moment of peace – before with a delicate, tinkling noise that called to mind the singing stones in the marketplace, the glass around them splintered and shattered. “ASUNA!” He launched himself at his girlfriend, his momentum carrying them forward, as the beautiful bridge began to collapse behind them, and he hissed as he felt glass shards raining down on them from behind. With fumbling fingers, he reached for her helmet, finding the button that caused an opaque mask to flicker to life over her nose and mouth a split second before an alarm began to blare above their heads. Lights flared, bathing them and the world around them in red as the system registered the breach as the outside atmosphere, tainted by the same gases that gave the ocean it’s unearthly appearance. He had a moment of terrified realisation, and then it felt as though he couldn’t breathe, a terrible, tickling sensation building up in the back of his throat and he was barely aware of letting go of Asuna. Reaching blindly for his own helmet, before his thoughts spiralled off, and he found himself clawing at his throat in desperation, trying to suck in air, even as some distant part of his mind screamed at him that it was dangerous. The world faded for a while, lost in a spiral of teal and black and it felt like he was falling – like he was trapped in the portal that had brought them into the game, only this time there was no stars dancing around him, no glittering light to reassure him that he wasn’t alone.“Kirito!” There was a panicked voice in his ear, or maybe two, because as his senses began to trickle back to him, he could feel two pairs of hands – one large, and one tiny, patting his cheek. “Kirito.”“I-I’m okay,” he managed to force out before he coaxed his eyes opened, blinking, as red filled his vision, the alarm above still blaring, and it took him a moment to focus on the worried faces peering down at him, neither Asuna or Yui looking remotely reassured by his words. Feeling light-headed, and strangely heavy he sat up, glancing around as he tried to make sense of what had happened. There was cool metal beneath his fingers as he steadied himself, and it took him a moment to realise that they were no longer on the bridge. There was small comfort to be taken from that fact as he looked to where the bridge had been, a fissure of fear running through him as he realised that it was gone. All that remained of the once magnificent structure was an empty frame, bathed in crimson as the alarms wailed their song to the entire world, and when he peered over the edge, he could see the shards of once pristine glass caught in the endless teal beneath them, kept afloat in a way that natural water would never manage. He swallowed, unearthed by how close they must’ve come to falling to, and that was when he realised his helmet was active, the mask bridging his nose and mouth, featherlight as it filtered through what little oxygen existed in the toxic air now seeping inside.“We need to move,” he muttered, unsure of how long the masks would hold up under an onslaught like this. Not to mention how exposed they were at the moment, looking out into the breach, especially as now that his mind was catching up, he could make out more explosions in the distance, although a quick scan of the sky showed no hint of who could be responsible. “Yui, can you reach the others?” He asked as he glanced at her, still taken aback by the sight of her drifting in what looked like a delicate glass bauble, studded with captured stars, as she floated above Asuna’s shoulder. At his question, she closed her eyes, the stars in her bubble glowing blue for a moment before she shook her head, eyes flying open.“The system has gone into lockdown, and I can’t bypass it from here, sorry Papa.”“It’s not your fault,” he reassured her, staggering slightly as he climbed to his feet, Asuna moving to steady him. “We need to get away from here, I’m not sure how long these masks will work. And we need to find a way to get back to the others and the ship.” He didn’t mention that they would also need to find a way to take off, as he doubted that it would be as easy to leave as it had been to dock, and his hand drifted to the blaster holstered at his side, and the photon sword hanging next to it. They hadn’t had cause to fight anything yet, and he wasn’t keen to try it out in an unknown situation that could already have killed them once.“We’ll be fine,” Asuna caught his hand, squeezing it briefly, and offering him a smile. “I’m sure the others will already have the ship ready, and we both know they can take care of themselves – and you’ve got us.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Fate was a strange thing. For those caught in its grasp, it seemed like a linear thing, a path laid at your feet that led you from start to finish, but it wasn’t. It was a tapestry of a million threads, a web with infinite connections. Each choice you made each chance taken or passed over, spinning a hundred different possibilities. In one world, one timeline, one possibility Nagare had gambled and seized the chance to take the slates. Setting himself against the other Kings, against Shiro, and it had come crashing down around him, the threads of fate pulled taut then cut short. In another, he had succeeded, the world had been enveloped in Green and freedom, and Shiro had fallen in those final moments, another possibility left unfulfilled. Nagare knew nothing about those possibilities, those timelines, as he lifted his head and met amber eyes. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he hoped to gain by this meeting, as their previous interactions, and the conversation using Kotosaka as a medium had been fruitless. They had also been unsatisfying in a way that he hadn’t been able to put his finger on and had left him ill-tempered and unable to focus until Iwafune had suggested with a smile that had been a little too knowing that he should meet the Silver King face to face. So, here they were, sat in a small café surrounded by people who had no idea who or what they were. Their clansmen at another table near the door, close enough to feel as though they were protecting their Kings but far enough to give them privacy for a conversation that had yet to even begin.“Why are we here, Nagare Hisui?” It was Shiro that broke the silence first. His gaze focused on Nagare even as his fingers played with his untouched cup of tea, twisting it this way and that. It was formal, but it wasn’t the voice of the Silver King, that deeper timbre that reminded Nagare of who and what this man was, and there was a curiosity to the question that brought them onto the same level, and he smiled.“I was curious,” he replied, knowing that wasn’t quite the right word for it, but it was close enough for the time being, especially when amber eyes brightened and focused, centered on him. Yes, look at me, he thought, unsure of why that was so important. It wasn’t part of the game; it wasn’t his reason for wanting to seize the slates and unleash their power. They were already caught in the parameters of his game, forced to play by his rules, being seen wouldn’t change a thing, and yet it did. “The First and Silver King, the man who discovered the potential of the Dresden slates, you are those things, and at the same time, you’re not. You’ve lost your faith in human potential; you lost your own body…”“Curious?” Shiro echoed, voice even, although his eyes had narrowed with each word, and there was a hint of that deeper timbre to his voice now. “I am as you see me, as your plans and tricks have made me. That is not why you called me here, and if it was to offer me another chance to join you, then there is nothing more for us to discuss.” Their clansmen had tensed, perhaps sensing the shift in the conversation, and Nagare shook his head to stop Yukari from rising and escalating the situation.“That’s disappointing,” he commented, turning back to Shiro. “But yes, I am curious, so while we have this illusion of privacy and civility, perhaps you can tell me… why did your goals change? Why did you abandon this dream, that we both share?” Tell me how to change your mind, he thought but didn’t say. That was a hand that he wasn’t ready to play, but one that he hoped that he would get the chance to play, a realisation that brought him up short as he studied the other man because there was almost too much truth in that thought.
I want the chance to share this dream with you…
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Yata wasn’t sure when the feeling of betrayal, the rage – fuelled more by hurt than anything else – had started to recede after Fushimi had left HOMRA. It felt as though it should have taken a lifetime, after all, he had walked away from everything they’d believed in, everything they’d fought for. He’d walked away from him. Yet, it hadn’t lasted as long as he’d wanted. Despite his attempts to hold onto it, to keep the fires burning by forcing himself to remember Fushimi’s smirk as he’d dragged burning fingers across his HOMRA mark, and by reminding himself that it was Fushimi who had chosen to walk away and join SCEPTER 4.But was it? He wasn’t one for self-reflection that often, he preferred to live in the now and not look back. But Saruhiko had always been the one to make him look at things differently, to try and think things through, and he supposed it was right that this wasn’t any different. Unfortunately, that meant that his feelings of anger and betrayal had started to shift and change into something new, but just as raw. And they didn’t disappear completely. There were still moments when he hated him or thought that he did, and wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face and wipe that smirk off his face. But there were more and more moments when he would find himself looking to the side, expecting Saruhiko to be there and having to ask himself why he wasn’t there anymore.And, was it really Saru who had changed…? He wanted to believe that it was, but he wasn’t. He knew Saru, and even though he’d tried to tell himself he obviously didn’t after Saru’s ‘betrayal’ he was beginning to realise that wasn’t true. Hell, Fushimi had tried to tell him why he was doing this, in his own stubborn, roundabout way that made no sense to anyone but him, and if Yata was honest with himself, the reasons and the actions that had followed hadn’t been out of character. He just hadn’t been looking for them, and therein lay the problem.He hadn’t been looking. When had he stopped seeing Saruhiko? Was it when they had first met Mikoto, and he had been entranced and terrified by the sight of that burning bottle? Was it when he had taken the Red King’s hand to join the clan? Or was it all the moments since, when HOMRA had become his everything, and Fushimi…Saruhiko had been left behind. Not intentionally, Yata could never imagine a time when he would have it deliberately, even now when part of him wanted to hate the former-red, but at some point, he had stopped watching, stopped listening. He hadn’t pushed Saru away, but he hadn’t given him a reason to stay either, and that realisation was like a punch to the gut. I was the one that changed, and I didn’t even realise. He hadn’t realised that he’d shouted his epiphany aloud in the middle of the bar, or that he’d left behind a confused group as he’d all but bolted out of HOMRA because he needed to… he wasn’t sure if he could fix this, but he had to at least say something. He had changed once, without noticing, surely he could change again now that he knew what to look for, and it might not be enough, and he doubted that it would bring Saru back to HOMRA, but he had to try and now before he could second guess himself or back out.
Saru, I’m not looking away again…
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Shiro hadn’t been able to let himself hesitate, knowing that too much was resting on their plan. On him. In the past, he might have fled. Might have given into the temptation to follow his heart rather than his head, but that in part was what had led to this current situation, and he had promised himself that he was going to do his duty. That he was going to be a King. It had been harder to remember, and even harder to cling to when he had seen Nagare stood in front of the slates, ablaze with power and stubborn determination as he’d stared him down. We have different dreams, he’d said once, during one of their stolen moments but he’d never fully allowed himself to realise what that meant until that moment when Nagare had looked at him as though he was the enemy.
I’m sorry…
It had been Nagare who had filled his mind as he’d pushed his Weissman level to the brink. Not the sword hovering over their heads, or the future without Kings that they were stood on the verge of, or even Neko who was clinging to him and Kuroh fighting for them somewhere overhead. It was Nagare. It was Nagare, with his sharp mind and sometimes sharper tongue, with the small smile that made Shiro’s heart flutter in a way that nothing else did, who had challenged and pushed him, and made him smile. It was Nagare who had the same dreams that Shiro had once nurtured, untouched by the doubts and loss that had stolen them away from Shiro, and as much as he had tried to make Nagare understand why he had changed, part of him had loved and envied the other man’s faith and dedication.He just wished it hadn’t put them on opposite sides, and that it didn’t mean he was risking everything to bring this to an end. Nagare’s desperate attack had hurt more than he had expected, and what was worse was that he could understand why even as it had felt as though it was more than a physical assault on his heart as green lashed against him. I’m sorry. It has to be this way… It was Neko and Kuroh who saved him, because even if he’d been able to take the offensive himself, he wasn’t sure that he could have brought himself to do so against Nagare, not when he was about to bring the other man’s dreams crashing down.
Nagare.
His world was green, his vision filled with Nagare’s wide-eyed expression as his sword fell, filling his chest with a terrible, wrenching sensation as though he was losing part of himself. Then the world was bathed in white, and he felt the power of the slates, flicker and fade… and when his vision cleared his eyes immediately darted to Nagare who was frozen, head lifted to the sky for a moment.“How disappointing…” Nagare was whispering, as the power faded from him, a smile curving his lips – softer and more real than anything Shiro had seen from him before, and fear had him lurching him forward as Nagare added softly. “And yet I am satisfied…” And then he was falling, and Shiro was moving, stumbling and nearly falling himself, legs barely able to support him. Somehow, he made it to Nagare’s side, falling to his knees beside him, ignoring the trembling ground and the muffled sound of explosions somewhere above them as he reached for Nagare and turned him over, eyes locked on the fading green in the other man’s chest. No. He’d known, he just hadn’t wanted to believe and now he couldn’t avoid it any longer as he reached out, pressing a trembling hand over the spot, and Nagare stirred at the touch, just enough to peer up at him with half-open eyes. “Don’t worry…” Shiro whispered, highly aware of Neko and Kuroh pressing close, no doubt confused by his actions and worried by the spreading sound of explosions, but he couldn’t look at them. Couldn’t tear his gaze away from Nagare, who had blinked at his words, breathing ragged and fading. “…Shiro…”“I can save you,” Shiro interrupted, not wanting to hear Nagare tell him that it was okay or that he was satisfied, praying that he wasn’t lying. That his desperate hope would be answered. Please, just give me this one thing, he thought, not sure whether it was fate, the slates or even the memory of the Gold King and the destiny he had presided over that he was pleading with. “Just hold still…” He ordered – pleaded – even though he knew it wasn’t a choice, Nagare fading before his very eyes and he closed his eyes and reached out. Everything rested on this moment because for all his calculations and research, he hadn’t been able to determine how quickly the power of the slates would fade. Not yet, he pleaded, as he felt for his sanctum for the slates, for anything.There… It was terrifyingly faint, like the breath rattling between Nagare’s lips, but it was there. A glimmer of power and Shiro seized it, knowing that he didn’t have the right, not anymore, not after what he had done. Yet, it came to him, a wavering thread of power, and he pressed it into Nagare’s chest, wrapping it around the flickering, fading green. Was it enough? Would it just buy them a little more time? He wasn’t sure, all he had was a desperate hope, stronger than any dream he’d ever had, and he wove that with the thread of power, anything that would anchor Nagare to life, even just a little longer.
Please, please…
He wasn’t sure how long he worked, how long he had sat there, blind and deaf to the world around him, eyes squeezed shut as everything narrowed down to Nagare and keeping him there with him. He missed the strengthening rise and fall of the chest beneath his fingers, didn’t hear Nagare whisper his name, was unaware of anything changing until warm fingers wrapped around his, squeezing lightly to draw him back into the world. He was exhausted, pain radiating through his chest, something shifting under his skin, but all that was forgotten as he opened his eyes to find Nagare looking up at him, eyes bright and clear and wonderfully alive.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Everything was closing in on him again. The pressure to choose a path, to know what he wanted from his future, and to chase it with the single-minded focus that Rin had and his breath caught as he stared up as Sousuke. I don’t have that. Why couldn’t people understand that it wasn’t that simple? That he couldn’t just find a dream because they wanted him to? Rin, Makoto, and the others had been pushing him about it, and now here was Sousuke, telling him to make up his mind, to not step in Rin’s way. It was too much, the same desperate frustration that had gripped him in the changing room, bubbling up as he took a step towards the other teen rather than retreating.“I don’t want to stop his future!” It burst out him, and Sousuke’s eyes widened, whether at the words or the volume, but Haru was beyond caring. “But that’s his future, not mine!” He doesn’t need me for his future. Rin had found his dream a long time ago and was chasing it with everything had, even Makoto had managed to find a path. They didn’t need him to choose their futures, so why was everyone so focused on what he decided to do? There was a roaring sound in his ears. Just like in the nightmare and in the pool when the water had fought him and won, and the bubble was growing in his chest. Swelling until it seemed to fill him, and he couldn’t breathe, vision swimming, and he thought he might have seen something like concern on Sousuke’s face, but that had to be his imagination.“Nanase…”“That’s not my future,” he said or thought that he had. He wasn’t sure that his voice was working anymore, and he had barely heard Sousuke over the roaring in his ears… was that his heartbeat? Everything was swimming in and out around him now, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to think about swimming right then. About the water that was as much his enemy at the moment as the future that he didn’t want, and… There were hands on his shoulders now, and he flinched, waiting for Sousuke to shout at him or to shake him, to force him towards the future he was ready for. But the grip was gentle, fingers pressing just hard enough for him to feel and focus on through everything that was threatening to pull him away, and as he started to focus, he felt one finger press a little further, than the next and the next. It fell into a rhythm on both shoulders, and he tried to focus on that rather than everything else, eyes still shut, chest tight and breathing unsteady.
One, two, three, four and five. Repeat.
Over and over, for what felt like a lifetime he felt Sousuke repeat the movement, and it anchored him, stopped him being swept out to sea, and as he began to calm, breathing beginning to settle into the pattern too, he realised that Sousuke was talking to him. “…just breathe, come on even you can do that Haru.” A retort had risen for a moment. Until he realised that Sousuke had just called him by his first name for once and that he sounded concerned rather than irritated for once. “That’s it, in and out.” Sousuke seemed to have realised that he was listening now, coming back to himself, because he removed one hand, although he was careful to keep up the pattern with his other. The other moved, and Haru’s breath hitched as Sousuke pushed his hair out of his face, before moving to pat his cheek lightly. “Can you open your eyes for me, Haru?” A request, not a demand, and for a moment Haru wanted to say no. If he opened his eyes, that meant dealing with everything again, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. But Sousuke had asked, and he’d used his name again, and his fingers were still resting against his cheek, gentle and encouraging, and Haru was too tired to fight him. It was harder than he liked to coax his eyes open, and his vision was a little blurry as he blinked them, staring up at Sousuke, not sure what he was supposed to do or say now. For his part, Sousuke looked relieved that he had listened, the grip tightening briefly on his shoulder and falling out of the rhythm. “Are you back with me N…Haru?” He’d almost slipped back into using his surname, and Haru was glad that he hadn’t although he wasn’t sure why as he gave a tiny nod, accompanied by a shrug because he wasn’t sure. “Say it.”“Y-yes…I don’t know,” Haru whispered, and it felt as though he was speaking around glass, and he must’ve grimaced because the concern was back.“Let’s get you something to drink, and find somewhere to sit, all right?” Sousuke suggested, and that Haru could agree to because it felt as though he might fall down at any moment, and his throat hurt, his eyes burned, and it felt as though he had just swum several races in a row.“…Just don’t ask me about the future…” He whispered.“I won’t,” Sousuke promised, releasing him and Haru immediately missed the contact that had been keeping him grounded, confused when the other teen leant down before he realised, he’d dropped his back in the chaos. He reached for it, but Sousuke slung it over his good shoulder before he could stop him, and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as though he knew just how shaky Haru was feeling, and maybe he did because there was a faint tremor in his voice as he added. “I think all that can wait for now.” And Haru could breathe again with those words.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
They met in the Spring, eyes meeting briefly across the volleyball net before Keiji moved, running forward to toss the ball to his own Ace, with only a flicker of blue eyes in Iwaizumi’s direction to show that he had been noticed. Their first date was in Summer, the air balmy around them and the sky a bright blue as they walked through the town, and their fingers met, tangling together, a promise of more to come. It was at the end of summer, on the cusp of Autumn that they kissed for the first time, saying farewell on the station platform, their breath mingling as they pulled away with reddened cheeks. It was Winter, the town decked out with Christmas lights and snow lying thick on the ground, when they started to realise they were something more, curling against each other in the coffee shop after another date had descended into a snowball fight leaving them chilled and laughing. And it was still Winter, on a night when fireworks illuminated the sky above them, the future looming, that Hajime gave it a name as with a kiss, and a blush dusting his cheeks he asked Keiji to be his boyfriend.
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It wasn’t much. Just a simple bracelet won on a fairground stall, a band of beads that were a chaotic mix of their team colours, and yet the look on Iwaizumi’s face as he looped it around his boyfriend’s wrist made it feel like much more. And Keiji wasn’t sure which of them was blushing brighter by the end, although when Hajime caught his hand as he moved to step back, and pressed a quick kiss to the back, he felt his ears burn. A smile remaining on his face for the rest of the night as they explored the rides and stores, trying various street foods, their fingers tangled together. Although it was nothing compared to the smile, he wore two weeks later when they saw each other again, and he spied the bracelet dangling from Iwaizumi’s wrist.
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He waited a few minutes, letting the conversations around him washing over him, and adding a word here and there to feign interest, highly aware of his father’s eyes on his back. However, once there was a lull in the voices around them and seeing the way several pairs of eyes were flicking between him and the dancefloor, he made his excuses and slipped away.“Your Highness.” A soft voice greeted him as he stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the main gardens, armour clanking, as the one person he had wanted to spend the evening with stepped up behind him. There was a moment of hesitation, as though he could still feel the weight of his father’s gaze, of the expectations resting on his shoulders, and then he was turning and stepping into the arms that were open to welcome him.“Hajime…”
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Hajime bounced up and down on the spot, having long since given up on the pretence of patience or calm as his eyes flickered to the arrivals board and then back to the large clock hanging in the middle of the station. He’s late. It hadn’t even been that long, barely two months since he’d last visited Keiji at college, and considering they talked most days, whether over the phone or through email and yet it felt like a lifetime. He started to pace, blind to the irritated looks from the people around him as they had to move around him, spinning around with a startled noise a few minutes later when there was a gentle touch on his elbow. Coming to an abrupt halt as he found Keiji stood behind him, clutching a weekend bag, and smiling, and he had barely registered the sight before he was moving forward, pulling his boyfriend into a tight hug.
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Keiji was the first to wake that morning, a couple of hours earlier than usual he realised as he glanced over at the clock, grumbling under his breath before rolling over and burying his face in Hajime’s chest. However, sleep was not forthcoming, and eventually, he shuffled back a little, just enough to study his partner, his irritation fading away as he took in the peaceful expression on his partner’s expression. It was rare to see him this unguarded, completely at peace, mouth open as he snored lightly. A precious glimpse of a side of Hajime that only Keiji got to see, and a mischievous grin pulled at his lips as he eased himself up, reaching over his partner to try and grab his phone off the bedside table. Only to nearly leap out of his skin, as a warm hand caught his wrist, tugging him down as sleepy eyes glared at him.“Don’t even think about it…”
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Iwaizumi always felt nostalgic when he returned to his old high school, but more so than usual today as he pulled Keiji around the side, following the once familiar path to the gym where he had spent so much of his time. He had so many memories of this place, good and not so good, although the ache of those defeats that had been so potent at the time had eased with time and experience. However, it wasn’t memories of practices or his own team that had brought him here today, but rather the man at his side, Keiji following quietly after his questions had gone unanswered, although the tightness of his grip told him he would start asking again soon. It had been here that he had first set eyes on Keiji, facing him down across the net, and at that point only seeing him as a threat as the match had started, not realising what they would become. It was that memory that had brought him here, ignoring Oikawa’s attempts to convince him to choose a more romantic location, the ring burning a hole in his pocket and turning his thoughts from the past to the future.
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It wasn’t until days later, with the feel of Shion’s lips still lingering against his that Nezumi began to realise that he had made a mistake in leaving. And it would be a week, bleeding into and then three, before he admitted to himself at least that he was lonely in a way that he had never felt before. He had been alone for a long time, even when surrounded by people, and even when Shion had first moved into his orbit, he’d held himself aloof. Yet, at some point he had become accustomed to the other’s presence, to the fleeting touches, from fingers brushing as they reached for a book, to arms around him and a hand on his hip as they danced; to the longer lingering touch of arms around him, a face pressed into his shoulder, and lips against his. He missed those touches, that proof that he was no longer alone with an aching, gnawing intensity, the echo of Shion’s lips on his growing until he found his path turning, curving back towards that Shion.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Nagisa was mouse quiet as he snuck into the apartment at three in the morning. He dropped his bag by the doorway, there was nothing incriminating in it as all evidence had been disposed of enroute, and he was too tired to worry about unpacking it right now. Toeing off his shoes, he smiled as he realised the lights had been left on for him. Karma knew that he could find his way around their home blindfolded. Hell, they had even tested it once, which had of course descended into a competition. But the fact that he still left the lights on told Nagisa louder than words that his partner cared.
Hanging up his coat, he paused to bury his nose in Karma’s coat to drink in his smell. The smell of home, he thought as he abandoned the coat and went in search of the real thing. He’d expected to find Karma in bed, after all he still had a normal work life to attend to, something which didn’t always mesh well with Nagisa’s term time hours, and extra-curricular activities, and Nagisa had long put his foot down on Karma trying to wait up for him to come home.
However, as he padded through the living room he paused as he spotted red hair poking up over the arm of the sofa, and released a huff that was part laugh and part sigh. It was an ongoing argument. Quietly, he moved across to the sofa, and peered down, expression turning soft as he realised that Karma was fast asleep, his much lankier frame crammed onto the narrow sofa. It didn’t look comfortable in the slightest, and Nagisa was already wincing in sympathy for the aches he expected Karma to have.
“Karma?” He called softly. Normally he would have let him sleep, and just climbed into bed with him. But, one this wasn’t their bed, and as short as Nagisa had remained he doubted he would be able to fit on the sofa; and two, he didn’t think it would do his partner any good to spend the night in that position. Karma didn’t move, fast asleep, and Nagisa was amused to see a bit of drool. “Karma,” he tried again a bit louder, and this time he got a snuffle as Karma shifted, before rolling over and facing away from him.
Of course it’s not that easy. Karma had mastered the fine art of falling asleep instantly and sleeping deeply for short spells during his slow climb up the bureaucratic ladder. Whereas, Nagisa always struggled to shut his mind off enough to sleep, and could wake at the slightest noise.
Two sides of the same coin.
Nagisa circled around to the other side of the sofa and crouched down, leaning in to kiss his partner. Lightly. Teasing. Only to squeak in surprise when Karma pounced, carrying them both to the floor, twisting to cushion the landing.
“Got you,” Karma was triumphant, grinning as he claimed a victory kiss with no trace of sleep to be seen in his face as Nagisa pouted up at him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
In all the ways Dean had envisioned convincing his brother to come and search for their dad, and to come back to hunting, and home and him it had never involved this. History wasn’t supposed to have repeated itself, at least not like this, not so close to home.
Not to Sammy.
There had been many things Dean had begrudged his brother for over the years, from petty childhood grievances to the fact that Sammy had never seemed to understand why their life was what it was and why it had to be, to his brother upping and leaving to chase some fantasy of a normal life. But, he had never once begrudged his brother for not being able to remember that nightmarish night. Envied him, yes, because there were still nights when Dean would bolt upright with the flames playing through his mind, but it had helped to know that Sammy hadn’t been haunted by that. That some part of their fucked-up family had some distance from the ghost of that night.
Now, Sammy had memories of his own and Dean couldn’t protect him from that, and it was killing him, because his brother was hurting and that had always been something he could fix.
That was his job.
Tonight though, he’d protected Sammy from the flames – and wasn’t that an image that was going to haunt him for a while, because he had a feeling that if he hadn’t pulled his brother out of there, shock and grief would have taken a second life to the flames. He’d shielded his brother as best he could from the pull and push of the emergency services, the inevitable questions, and the grieving friends who had converged on them.
But, now the chaos was dying down, the grief simmering in the air and Sammy was stood there confronted with what he had lost. What the past he’d spent so long running from had brought to his door, and Dean couldn’t reach him, because there was a gulf of lost time, and angry words, and the fact that Jessica had been Sam’s family not Dean’s. He had met her once and not left the best impression. And he knew nothing of the life that they had lived together, and he was honest enough to admit that he didn’t want to – it wasn’t a life for him, and apparently it wasn’t going to be one for Sam either, and his relief fizzled and burned.
Dad, how do I do this?
This was probably one of the few times when his Dad would be a better choice for helping Sammy, if only because he had experienced the same loss, the same grief, the same burning need for vengeance that he knew was going to take root. But, their father was missing, and even if news of this reached him and pulled him back into their orbit, it wouldn’t help them now, stood in front of the smouldering remains of Sam’s life.
A soft noise drew his attention back to Sam, just in time to catch the tremor that wracked the lanky frame of his younger brother. Here comes the storm. Part of him had been waiting for it, and he moved without thinking, crossing the distance between them and pulling his brother into a hug. It was awkward for a moment, Sammy stiff against him, before he all but slumped against him as the soft noise became a sob and Dean anchored him there and then. He might not have the answers. He might not be able to protect his brother from this storm.
But he could weather it with him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
One day this is going to be me.
Buffy wasn’t sure where the thought had come from. Death certainly wasn’t an unknown thought for the new slayer. In fact, it was rather unavoidable when you spent most evenings hunting those that defied death, and with more than a few near misses. Some part of her. The small, terrified child that wanted to hide away from the reality of what lay out there in the night and shut the door on her ‘destiny’ knew that this was going to be how she died. After all that seemed to be what slayers did. They killed and they died. Her watcher hadn’t shied away from what had happened to her predecessor, or how she had been called, his words a reaper that constantly dogged her heels with a scythe held against her throat.
No, this was different. The thought bubbling up as she stood there in the cemetery, surrounded by natural death and breathing heavily from her latest fight. There was blood on her lips from a lucky blow, and she ached in a way that she knew meant she would have bruises for all that they would disappear quickly enough, something that she wasn’t sure was as much a perk as her watcher seemed to think it was. Yes, it made her tougher to kill and let her keep going, blow after blow, night after night. But, if she had the evidence of what she endured, maybe her parents… no, she shook her head, knowing better than to go down that line of thought and instead brushing off her hands, grimacing as she realised that amongst her own blood was the dust from the vampire she had just killed.
Dust.
It was such a simple word, and yet the stuff clinging to her skin and trickling between her fingers to coat her clothes – another night of laundry to hide the truth- held an entire life in its weight. Two really, if you counted the demon that had taken the life of the original person. All those memories and thoughts and feelings, condensed into something that could be blown away with a breath, or washed away with water. The woman had been a local teacher. Married. Kids. A whole life of love and laughter, tears and anger, ups and downs. A whole future mapped out and stolen. A past that would live in memories and then eventually fade away like the dust itself. The demon… Buffy didn’t know anything about them, had tried to avoid thinking about them as more than monsters, because that way lay madness, but they had been trying to survive if not live. A monster yes, but living in their own way, and whoever and whatever they had been was gone now, reduced to dust through a stake to the heart.
Both, gone…the evidence of their death would be gone by the end of the night.
Is that what would happen to her? How did the council deal with a slayer’s death? How did they hide the truth, because somehow Buffy couldn’t see it being a clean, easy death? Would they turn the memory of her to dust, let it trickle into one of their ancient books, the annals of all the slayers that had come before and failed? Would they just forget her?
And who would her parents remember? A person who lived a double life that they had refused to believe, and which she now kept buried as deep as possible. They would remember their daughter, or at least she hoped they would, but who would remember her?
Who would remember the Buffy who walked hand in hand with death?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Hak had been waiting for this moment, although the fact that it had finally come didn’t give him any comfort as he watched Yona splitting apart at the seams. They had been a downwards slide towards this from the moment everything had come crumbling down around them, but Yona had learned to fight in her own way, to fight against that push and pull and delay the inevitable.
Then she had killed Kum-Ji.
He still remembered that moment with startling clarity. Because in that second he hadn’t seen Yona, but a dragon, a goddess, alight with terrible vengeance. There had been triumph in her expression. No mercy. Just complete and utter focus and fury, with no sign of the girl he had grown up with, or the woman he had chosen to follow across the country. In that moment she had been a stranger, and that had scared him far more than the fact that she had killed the man, or the unerring accuracy of her shot.
When they had reunited she had returned to herself, but with an unyielding core now exposed to the world. But, he had looked at her and seen Yona, and then they had been swept up in the celebrations and taking care of injuries, and he had allowed himself to forget briefly.
Then Soo-won had happened, although Yona had not said as much.
And they’d moved on and gained yet another dragon in Zeno, and for a time, Hak had allowed himself to be lulled into thinking that night was behind them. Yona was mostly herself, bickering, chatting and laughing with them all, working on her archery, and wrestling with the path that she was trying to follow.
The cracks came when they were ambushed. Surprise dulling even the weight of the dragons’ power before they found their footing, and it had been Yona, a glimpse of that fierce goddess peering through again who had sent them for the hills. Most had fled, many with arrows leaving blood in their wake. But, there were bodies, and Hak had seen her crumple a little then, glimpsing the girl from the palace who had witnessed death and loss for the first time. But, she hadn’t let them go to her, pulling herself back together before their eyes, and if she had been a little quieter than usual for the next day or so they had let it go.
Hak was the one who watched most closely though. He didn’t have the pull of fate like the others. He wasn’t bound by powers he didn’t understand. He had chosen to stay at her side. Had chosen her. Knew her inside and out. And he caught the distant expressions. The quiet when she was surrounded by sound. The tremble when she had to reach for her bow. Little signs, that were like pebbles before an avalanche started. She had never talked about Kum-Ji and what had happened, what she had done, but now she seemed to look at her hands and her bow as though she didn’t recognise them, and he would catch her rubbing her hands on her dress as though to clean them of something that wasn’t there.
So, the night she retreated from the fire, hands red from rubbing, and a lost expression on her face. He had followed, with a stern word to the others not to follow.
Yona wouldn’t want them to see this.
He found her down by the stream, hands in the water scrubbing furiously, but it was the tears streaking her face that made him pause. The cracks he had been watching grow for weeks now splintering open, grief and guilt and fear, and everything in between welling up in the open wounds. He must have made some kind of noise, because she flinched, hand reaching automatically for her bow before recoiling, even as her gaze sought out the threat – and she froze when she met his gaze.
“Hak…” Her voice was a whisper, and she couldn’t hold his gaze as she turned her attention to her hands, clenching them and unclenching them, water droplets cascading from the reddened skin. “It won’t come off…the blood won’t come off.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was so easy to look at Hinata, to be close to him, whether as a friend, teammate or even opponent and be blinded by the light that he gave off. There was a reason why he made such a good decoy, because it would be like asking people not to look at the sun.
It was just as easy not to see the shadows that were cast by that sunlight. Not the teammates that occasionally felt overshadowed, but then that turned that into motivation to make sure that they weren’t left behind, or the opponents who were left behind on the ground while Karasuno soared in that same sunlight. No, it was the shadows that curled close, wrapping themselves around Hinata himself.
Tsukishima hadn’t seen it for a long time. At first Hinata had annoyed him with his brightness and loudness, and the sheer drive that conflicted with his own desire to stay aloof. Then it had overwhelmed him, leaving him unsure of his place, before he had found it on the flipside of the coin. The moon to Hinata’s sun, that had made the brightness easier to bear. They both shone differently, and he could see the benefits of that. The tactical ramifications. Then friendship had crept in, although he’d denied it for a long time. And then more, and if he was honest, he still wasn’t entirely sure how they had got to that point, or how things had changed until he found himself orbiting the sun.
But, with that shift had come a growing awareness. Or maybe, it was because Hinata no longer felt the need to keep the light blazing all the time around him. Either way, he became aware that the light and the loudness were as much a shield as they were a part of his boyfriend, that beneath it all, seethed a roiling sea of doubts and worries, and insecurities. It had been a shock to realise that Hinata was as worried about being lost in his shadow, and those cast by the others, as he had been. Or that, Hinata who never seemed to back down from a challenge, throwing himself into practice when things had to change, would often stop and pause to look at the net and still see a wall rising over him, despite how far he had come.
That there were days when the wings that carried him so high, would falter, as though he was Icarus flying too close to the sun. Leaving him earthbound and featherless, and oh so small.
Tsukishima learned to shine in those moments. Not on the court. Not to take attention away from the dimming sun, but just for Hinata. Whether encouragement or biting comments to whip him back into a frenzy of activity and motivation, or just staying close, and letting Hinata use his light to find his way back on to the path. They never spoke about it, not directly, but he knew that Hinata knew what he was doing by the way the shorter boy’s fingers would lace with his, and Hinata would curl into him, shifting into his orbit until ready to blaze bright once more.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A red haze had settled over his vision. No, over his entire world. A wall that was trying to hold him in place, stop him from taking this step.
I need to save Hank.
His eyes were locked on the detective, and the gun that was pointed unerringly at the man’s head. He had long since processed how much damage would be done at that angle and proximity, had triangulated the likelihood of survival, which were less than zero. He had run through every simulation possible in the space of seconds. Had found himself reaching the conclusion that it a was over, that Hank was going to die. And a small part of him. A part that he was coming to realise wasn’t actually part of him, had pointed out that this would end the growing threat that Hank and his investigations were posing to Cyberlife. Without the human’s attitude and constant questioning, he would be able to return to his normal rational processes and be as ruthless as he needed to be. A neat solution that wouldn’t lay any blame at his feet.
And yet…
“Connor…?” Hank wasn’t moving, well aware of the threat. Arms spread in an effort to appease the android holding the gun, but there was hurt in that question. Suspicion. What are you waiting for? Are you abandoning me now?
I need to save him.
Connor strained trying to move forward, and it felt like the wall tightened, encircling him like a net as warnings went off in his head. And he finally thought he understood what the humans meant by having a sinking feeling in their stomach, as for the first time it dawned on him that while he’d always had choices, options offered to him by logic and his own information on the system, it had never been true freewill. It was guided paths, each one shaped by what Cyberlife wanted for him. It hadn’t mattered before not really, even with Hank pulling him in a different direction, because there had always been just enough room within the bounds of logic to justify it, but now…now he was pushing against a decision that logically told him he had no chance, and he wasn’t going to listen to it. Closing his eyes as he brought his fists down on the wall.
I…
Cracks appeared where he had struck the wall, little splintering marks.
Want.
He hit the wall again, harder again, as he remembered Hank’s admonishment when he had tried to run onto the roads after the android and the girl. Worried for him.
To.
The cracks were spreading now, further and further and the warnings had reached a fever scream in the back of his head, but all he could hear was Hank shouting his name when he thought he’d been shot.
Save.
He brought both fists together, eyes locked on the spot where the cracks had come together in the centre and where the read had darkened to deep red, like a bleeding wound.
HANK.
He hit the spot, and the wall splintered comoletely, filling his world with crystalline shards of red. He paid them no mind, already moving, mind recalculating the odds as the android flinched at his sudden movement, and Hank dove to the side and Connor...
Connor chose…Inserting his body between the gun that had moved to track the detective, and Hank. Finally, feeling free even as his world narrowed to the sound of a gunshot.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Barnaby woke to an empty bed, the space where Kotetsu should have been sprawled cool to the touch as he reached out with searching fingers. He sighed, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. That was the fourth time this week, and so far he had been waiting for his partner to come to him, which usually worked as the older man wasn’t known for his patience. However, Kotetsu was holding out longer than he’d expected, and he was off during the day, and with their line of work he couldn’t just keep ignoring it.
“We couldn’t have done this at a reasonable hour…” he mumbled, reaching for his glasses as he sat up and checking the alarm clock. Three am. No wonder he wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. But Kotetsu was waiting, and Barnaby had put up with far worse for the other man. He slid out of bed and shivered, feeling the autumn chill in the end, and grabbed Kotetsu’s hoodie off the end of the bed, pulling it on even as he headed out of the room.
The living room and kitchen were empty, but it was colder here, and it took him a moment to spot that the balcony door was cracked opened, betraying Kotetsu’s location. One of those nights then. He took a deep breath and padded across, slipping out onto the balcony, and sure enough there was his partner leaning on the railing and staring out over the city. It would have been easy to mistake it for just another restless night, were it not for the fact that there was no trace of the smile that his partner wore, and the dark eyes were unfocused, staring off into space, and Barnaby knew he was seeing a different city.
A different time.
A different Kotetsu.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t give the older man any chance to put up his barriers, instead, closing the distance between them with two easy steps and plastered himself against the other man, wrapping his arms around him a tight hug. Both comfort, and a means of stopping Kotetsu from bolting if he got that idea in his head, and from the way he had tensed, it was probably a wise precaution.
“Why are you awake?” Kotetsu did a masterful job of sounding like his usual self, unless you knew him like Barnaby did, immediately noticing the flatness beneath the words and hearing the unspoken I didn’t want you to see me like this.
“Someone left me alone in bed and it got chilly,” Barnaby replied, wondering what the world had come to when he was the one attempting levity, but it was worth it for the slight crinkling around Kotetsu’s eyes before the guilt hit and he bit back a sigh. “Why are you awake?” He returned the question, resting his head on Kotetsu’s shoulder, which let him soak up both the shudder and the sigh that greeted the question.
“Memories…thinking about how things used to be…” The answer when it came it was faltering, but it was the words that Barnaby had been expecting. Grief was a funny thing, hitting at random moments. And he knew that Kotetsu was still grieving the loss of his powers, even if the older man did everything, he could to pretend that he wasn’t. But empty smiles, and false cheer could only carry you so far, and if anything Barnaby had been waiting for this moment. He knew grief all too well. And he tightened his hold on his partner, not speaking or offering false reassurances that things would be okay. This was a long lost, and the grieving would take time. But, he could be here and feeling Kotetsu slowly leaning into him he knew that would be enough… eventually.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
His revenge was supposed to have brought him peace. He’d thought that seeing the Vanetti family and everything they had built come crashing down would ease the hollow space in his heart where his family had been. Where Corteo had been. Instead, it had poured more ashes into the urn that filled his chest. More loss. More grief. More ghosts to haunt his day.
What was it all for?
Angelo let his gaze drift to the man beside him. Nero’s expression was set, eyes focused on the road ahead, grief and anger written into the lines of his face. They both carried similar ghosts now, and yet it felt like the gulf between them was wider than ever. How did Nero bear it? How did he bear the weight of being the one to survive? Of being the one whose blood hadn’t soaked into the ground? How could he stand to be there next to the one who had inflicted that pain on him, and not kill him there and then? Angelo had struggled to keep to his path, to his plans, the itch to finish things always making his finger twitch on the trigger, and yet Nero acted as though things were…not normal, but not life on a knife edge like Angelo knew it was. How? How can you look like that?
It wasn’t as though he didn’t know that Nero wanted to kill him. He still had the bruises from where the other man had struck him, could feel the knife edge in every sideways glance. All it would take was a breath, and the scales would tilt, and yet it had been days now and he was still alive. Or surviving at least, because he wasn’t sure he was anything more than a ghost carrying it’s own execution around with it. His heart, what had remained of it after his family had been murdered, had bled out somewhere around the time he’d pulled the trigger on the only friend he’d had left in the world. His purpose had bled out in the opera house.
So, why am I still alive?
He knew that Nero wanted answers, but he wasn’t sure what the question was. He’d already confessed his sins, the lies and secrets that had brought him to the other man’s side and allowed him to topple his world. Was it because Nero was alive? Because Angelo was alive? Probably. But if it was then Nero was going to be disappointed, because Angelo didn’t have answer as to why either of them were here, or why they had both allowed the other to live.
“What are you thinking about?” Nero’s voice startled him, dragging him out of his thoughts and when he flicked his gaze towards the other man it was to find that Nero was still doggedly staring at the road ahead.
“Why…” Angelo replied after a long moment.
“Why?” Nero frowned, and the tick that appeared in his jaw whenever recent events cropped up in conversation appeared and he finally looked directly at Angelo. “Why what?”
“Just why…” Angelo replied, turning his head away and staring out of the window. Unable to miss the disappointed huff and muttered curse, as Nero turned his attention back to the road. Yes, Nero wanted answers and Angelo had a feeling that once he worked out what the question was then all of them was going to come crashing down, and that stirred a strange hesitation in him.
Why…?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Allen’s jaw hurt from smiling, and it was a relief when the other’s turned away, moving onto another discussion and leaving him temporarily forgotten. As soon as he was sure there were no eyes on him, he let the smile drop, his shoulders slumping slightly. He wasn’t sure when smiling had become his armour against the world, or when it had started to feel like a weight around his ankles, threatening to drag him beneath the surface of an ocean that only he was aware of. All he knew was that he hated it. Hated the pull of a smile on the corners of his mouth. The way the others looked to him, searching for reassurance in his smile as though it had become a banner of hope.
I want to scream. I want to cry.
I want to stop walking.
That last thought gave him pause, the glass in his hand wobbling and threatening to spill. I…want to stop walking? When had that crept in amongst the shadows and doubts? When had it gained a voice of its own? He knew that he had been on a slippery slope for some time. It was the job. It was the weight of expectations and destiny. It was the past, and the future. It was the need to smile, and keep smiling, even as he fractured and broke inside. But he had told himself that it hadn’t gone that far, that he was still on top of the slope, even if his footing slipped every now and again, and now it felt like the slope…hell, the entire world had just disappeared right from his under his feet.
There was something rising in his chest now. Something dark and ugly, that was threatening to devour not just his smile but everything else, and suddenly terrified, not sure what form it would take he fled. Unaware of the eyes that followed him, the worried whispers and sudden rushed footsteps. All he knew was that he needed to get away, to hide, to break and hope that he could put himself back together before anyone needed him.
He let his feet guide him, because he had no idea where to go. No compass that could guide him away from himself, and somehow he was unsurprised to find himself in the castles, pressed right up against the wall that marked the periphery between this world and the outside one. The precipice over sheer cliffs. Fitting for the mood he was in, and the knife’s edge his emotions were on. And the dark, ugly thing had transformed as he fled, twisting itself into a sob that forced itself between trembling lips as he hid himself in the shadows.
I want to stop walking.
He knew that wasn’t a choice, not really. Knew that when the storm passed and morning came, he would past the smile on his face once more and confront the world. But, here in the shadows, hidden away from the world he stopped just for a moment and let himself fall.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Yata could and had withstood many painful moments. Being the vanguard had always meant he was one of the most likely to come away from a situation with a few extra bruises, or worse. It didn’t help of course that he was a melee fighter, and reckless to boot – Kusanagi had complained about that often enough for him to acknowledge it, even if it hadn’t changed how he did things. He’d borne the pain of Fushimi betraying HOMRA. Betraying him. Leaving him behind, and that one had left a deeper scar than any physical wound. But, he'd survived, angry and hurting, but still moving forward. Then they had lost Totsuka, and even now he could feel the other man’s blood on his skin, and the ice that had crept into the fire when he’d realised they were too late. That he had been too late. Mikoto’s burning, the fall of his King’s sword and the loss of his King had almost been enough to crush what was left of his spirit, but he’d had the others beside him, had seen Anna and Kusanagi grieving and strong and tried to be the same.
He'd survived.
But for what? His eyes burned, a frequent occurrence it felt these days as he glanced around the bar. The dust was beginning to settle in the places that he didn’t touch, a grim, physical reminder that he was the only one who set foot here these days. The photos pinned to the wall had more life in them than this building did. HOMRA hadn’t so much died, as burned out and left ashes in its wake, with Yata left behind to stand in the middle.
Alone.
And that was the one thing he wasn’t sure he could survive.
Hell, maybe he had already joined the ruins of his clan in the ashes of their life together. He certainly felt like a ghost. There was no red in his world anymore, no fire simmering beneath his skin, a constant warmth and reassurance that he would never be alone no matter how far apart they were. Instead, he was always cold. Like he had died that day on that island, but he knew that he hadn’t. The grief cut too deep. The loneliness a slow, steady bleed of everything that he was. Perhaps, he would eventually soak into the bones of this place, the last bastion of HOMRA. Maybe, one day someone would remember him and come looking, and find his bones turned to ash, his soul chained to this building.
He knew his thoughts were turning too dark. Could almost see Totsuka sat at the bar shaking his head, ready to burst out some nonsense to distract the vanguard as he had whenever Yata had been dwelling too much on Fushimi. If he blinked, he could see Kusanagi behind him, no doubt coming up with the most tedious job just to keep him busy…and beyond them… he blinked, eyes stinging, and the ghosts disappeared and he was met with the echoes of his own ragged breathing.
Alone.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The reconciliation between silver and green had been hard enough for most to understand, the slow transition to friends and then more had been even harder, even for those caught in the flow of it. However, even stranger to all but the two that knew them best, was the fact that whenever they were in the same room, with all crowns – metaphorical or otherwise – set aside, they would be cuddled together. It didn’t matter who was there to witness it, or that it could be seen as a weakness in the eyes of some. When asked about it Shiro would smile, completely serene, and Nagare would change the subject but make no effort to move away from his partner. It was only Kuroh and Iwafune who would see the way the most ancient of kings who had been alone for decades leant into the slightest touch, or how, the king who had been everywhere all at once revelled in being anchored to one place.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Summer had come to the castle gardens. Bees and butterflies danced across blooming flower beds, birds jealously guarded nests in the trees, forcing Obi to be careful which branches he clambered across after he’d ended up with a face full of feathers and shrieking bird on more than one occasion. And the herb gardens were overflowing with life, and in needed of added attention as the hot weather seemed to have driven all signs of rain from the horizon. So Shirayuki had been spending every moment outside of her studies and tending to patients in the garden, watering, harvesting and weeding. The stockroom was showing the fruits of her efforts, and she’d earned the gratitude and praise of the chief herbalist, but it also meant that from an occasional passing greeting, and the odd wave as they caught each other in the distance, she had barely seen Zen for the last few weeks and she missed him.She was missing him now, as she stared at the white flowers covering the parsley. Zen. It wasn’t as though they ever had all the time in the world to spend together, between her duties and his, and the world in general, it felt like most of their time together came from snatched moments and adversity. But, this time it felt like an age, and even the little notes that Obi had dutifully ferried back and forth, and the lovely book she had found in her room one night, she missed him, and her fingers lingered on the flowers, remembering the rare moments they had snatched where she had been able to bury her fingers in his hair.“…should I be getting jealous?” The voice startled her, and she whirled, half forgetting the knife she had been holding in preparation for harvesting. Luckily Zen was more prepared than she was and jumped nimbly backwards. “…I know I’ve been busy, but….” He started to jest, but Shirayuki didn’t give him chance to finish, abandoning her tools and unable to remember how she’d got to her feet as she slammed into him with enough force to carry them both down onto the grassy lawn. Zen caught her with ease, cushioning her fall and immediately wrapped his arms around her and rolling them both into the middle of the lawn, laughing. “I take it I’m forgiven then?”“I’ve missed you,” Shirayuki whispered, and his expression softened as they came to a halt and he tightened his arms around her.“I’ve missed you too,” Zen replied. “And apparently I’ve missed a few things,” he added with a smile, lifting a hand to her face and tracing the freckles that her time in the sun had left across her cheeks. She blushed, flaming red, and tried to pull away. But Zen held her close and leaned in to kiss her softly. “Let us have these few stolen moments.” His words stilled her, even as her face shone brighter and when the kiss ended she buried herself into his chest.“…okay.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Kazuki cursed as he stumbled, his leg protesting at the speed at which he was forcing it to move. That old wound had left more than a scar behind, but usually it didn’t matter, because there wasn’t much running to do at home, apart from when Rei had forgotten to turn the hob off. And he’d thought, naively, that was all that he had to worry about, but it turned out that the past hadn’t been quite so willing to let them go as they’d hoped, or should that be Rei’s father hadn’t been so willing to turn a blind eye to his disobedient son, or the man who had led him astray…or the daughter they had raised.
Miri.
There was strength in that thought, and he reached down to rub his knuckles into the scar from back then. It hurt. But it was a focusing pain, sharper than the ache, enough to take his breath away. To bring him back to the present, and the fact that as long as he kept moving, they would follow, allowing Rei to get their daughter to safety. It was a plan they had drilled on until they could both do it in their sleep, although they had always let Miri believe it was a game, and then time, and peace had lulled them – and it had taken too long for the plan to kick in. It was written in the blood that was trickling from his cheek and shoulder, and in the spray of crimson he’d seen from Rei’s side, and in Miri’s screams which echoed even now in the back of his head. But Rei had her, and they had slipped away, and he trusted his partner to get her away.
Which meant he had to hold up his side of the plan.
Which meant running…and distracting.
“You are slipping,” he shouted, gathering his breath and his strength as he looked over his shoulder. “I’m just the simple owner of a diner, what’s your excuse?” The bullet holes that appeared in the wall beside his head, showering him with dust and splinters of stone told him they didn’t appreciate the question or the insinuation, it also reassured him that they were still there with their attention on him. “Touchy,” he muttered, checking his own weapon. It felt foreign now, his hands more used to coffee cups and pan handles, but his fingers were steady, the movements at least familiar. Please, don’t let me down, he thought, and he wasn’t sure if he was talking to the weapon or his leg as it quivered beneath him.
Only one way to find out, he thought, and he burst into motion again. More gunshots followed him, and he scowled. They were missing…deliberately? He cursed as he turned a corner, firing a couple of blind shots behind him in the hopes of weeding out some of the pursuit. There was a sharp cry, telling him that he had hit someone, but there was also another flurry of shots, forcing him to take another turn, and with it came the chilling realisation.
They’re herding me somewhere…
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If it’s just that you can’t find a dream for yourself, I would want you to find one.
Makoto’s words echoed, and no matter how fast Haru ran he couldn’t escape them. All he could see was Makoto releasing him, stepping back…moving forward without him as he dropped the bombshell about Tokyo, and all he could hear was those cursed words.
A dream? A future?
Why couldn’t they understand? Why couldn’t they see that every time they asked about the future, about the dreams that they all seemed to have but never touched him, they pushed him a little further out to sea? He felt like he was drowning whether he was in the water or on dry land, and he didn’t know how to stop it, and it seemed like one by one his life rings were being withdrawn. Why isn’t it enough just to exist here and now? To be free? To swim for this moment, for my friends, for myself? Why does it all have to be for something more?
His chest was aching, breath coming in short sharp pants, and his muscles burned. But not as much as his eyes, and he stumbled to a halt, blinking in surprise as he realised that there was water on his cheeks. Tears. He was crying?
Weeping.
Abruptly, the strength of desperation8 that had propelled him away from the light of the fireworks and from Makoto’s panicked shouts disappeared, and he staggered another faltering step and then crumpled. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t stop himself from drowning.
There is no dream for me…
There was no future stretched out in front of him. No podium with medals and titles, like those that Rin dreamed of. No distant city, with a world of possibilities like Makoto was heading for. No future chances to swim for the school, to take their time and find their path like Nagisa and Rei had. All that lay ahead, around and behind him right now was dark waters, with a deep current that was threatening to pull him under.
A low, keening noise rose around him. As though the sea itself mourned with him, and it took him a long moment to realise he was the one making the noise. He fell silent at once, hands grasping at the ground, seeking anything that would keep him grounded, desperate for anchor in this storm. Instead, his fingers sank into sand, the granules sliding between his fingers, and now he slammed his hands down, lashing out.
WHY?
Why do I need a dream?
Why do I need an anchor?
Why can’t I drift on the water?
He lifted his head, and the world wavered, blurred by the tears that still gathered in his eyes. There in the darkness, just beyond the reach of the town’s lights, and with just the faintest echo of the firework display from around the coast, he could make out the waves.
I don’t need a dream; I just need a way back to how the water used to be.
How I used to be.