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Mikey spends the days after his defeat, secluded in the room that used to be his boy with only his guards as company. The room hasn't been ransacked which speaks of naivety. It takes him all of a minute to pry apart the floorboard to retrieve a switch-blade, a child's toy nothing more but in Mikey's hands, he tightens his grip on the handle, listens to the steps of the guards outside. Wait until dinner is served, get the first of these bright-eyed boys by surprise, throats are easily slit and people underestimate him because he looks like a lesser version of his glory days, thin body and sunken, empty eyes. No one expects him to still be strong.
But Mikey isn't interested in another fight. He's not interested in anything. It's strange to him that he ever was in the first place. It feels like another life already. He picks lethargically at his food and spends his time in bed, simply lying around.
Honestly, he's starting to wonder what's taking Takemitchy so long.
As if some preternatural sense informed him, Takemitchy comes with next morning's breakfast. He enters Mikey's quarters like a guest paying a visit, not a gaoler his prisoner. His wounds have turned a charming purple, older bruises fading into green already. He takes a seat across Mikey who observes him silently, waiting for his move.
But Takemitchy frets and hems. And then he sticks a fucking flag onto Mikey's bun. At which point Mikey's lethargy is blown away by a squall of fury long enough to snap.
“So, when's it going to be?”
Takemitchy flushes, his eyes growing wide and terrified. Mikey wonders if he's going to see those charming crystal clear tears.
“You know?” Takemitchy asks, voice shaking, a tremble in his shoulders, like a dead leaf in the wind. Fools only see that tremble and think they spotted the whole tree but no winter storm can unmoor Takemitchy his spine is as strong as the tree that weathers the cold winds of winter to bloom again in spring.
“It's obvious, isn't it?” The new king must execute the old. Otherwise, his reign will never be secure.
“I'm sorry.” Takemitchy says, eyes shining earnestly. “If there was another way. A country estate where you could stay and--”
“Don't be ridiculous. I don't want to waste away, locked away.” Even the deepest throes of apathy cannot make country living tolerable to Mikey. He's a city creature through and through, give him the narrow streets, the clamor of the crowd, the noise that never stops but not the calming quiet of the forests and hills.
-
His hope for swift proceedings dies when Mitsuya enters the next day, his little troupe of seamstresses in tow.
“Up, up.” He motions without wasting time on formalities.
Mikey is measured, cloth is held to his skin and Mitsuya curses up a blue storm at his state.
“Forget white. My god, you'd look like a ghost.”
Mikey probably should take offence but he can't be bothered to care one way or the other. He tells himself Mitsuya's opinion hasn't mattered for a long time.
“I could wear what I have now.” He says. It all seems a bit of an unnecessary hassle, he remembers Mitsuya labouring over their gang's uniforms, hours upon hours. He shouldn't waste his time making clothes for a dead man.
“Ungrateful bastard.” Mitsuya's seamstress friend mutters under her breath. At the same time as Mitsuya says, “Absolutely not.”
He's studying fabric samples and doesn't notice the girl ramming a needle into Mikey's thigh. Something in Mikey swells with pride at the loyalty his former friend has inspired.
-
Mikey grabs the hand on his shoulder and twists, a muffled scream and then he's staring down at Kokonoi's terrified face. He lets go, belatedly he recognizes that Haruchiyo has thrown himself on his back in an effort to pull him off Koko. Steps sound from outside, he motions his idiots underneath his bed.
The door opens, Akashi charges into the room, naked sword in hand. Mikey raises a wholly unimpressed eyebrow.
“Did I startle you, God of War?” He rises from the floor. Even with Wakasa at his back, and Mikey unarmed, Akashi wouldn't win this fight.
“Don't play games, Manjirou.” Akashi says flatly. He looks around the room.
“I rolled out of bed. You know, I'm a messy sleeper.” Mikey says. Akashi glares at him suspiciously. But he's not stupid enough to enter the lion's den. Smart man, Mikey would so love to have a long conversation about how Draken ended up in Brahman.
The door closes and Haruchiyo and Koko crawl from his bed like cockroaches.
“Shit, that was close.” Koko mutters. Haruchiyo grasps his hand. “Come on, we need to hurry.”
Mikey takes his hand back. “What do you think you're doing?” He says quietly.
“Rescuing you.”
“I don't need you to do that.” Haruchiyo recoils as though Mikey hit him and Koko stares at him blatant shock on his face. This is possibly the first time, Mikey has seen him speechless.
“It's fine. In fact, I can't wait for this farce to be over.”
Koko's grin is back in full force, his go-to defense, hide everything behind a smile. But before he can say his provocative piece, Haruchiyo loses it.
“No. Fuck no.” He shouts. “I will never accept this.”
The door explodes and Akashi tackles his brother to the ground. Koko raises his arms in surrender and pales at the man standing behind Wakasa. Inui abandoned his dead fish face for a truly impressive bitch face.
“Hey, honey.” Koko says, waving at Inui. Inui's obsession with Koko is not to be underestimated. Mikey recalls the man murderously pacing around the then Toman war camp muttering Koko's name. If Koko ever realizes, he can play him like a fiddle, he may make a life for him yet. Mikey's confident it's only a matter of time, the man's a survivor through and through. And Sanzu, no matter what pit he falls into his siblings will drag him back out.
-
It's time and Mikey's only thought is fucking finally.
For the first time in years, he feels almost excited for something. There's a knock at his door and then silence like they're waiting for admittance. He wonders why no one seems to tire of this pretence. But the palace is entirely committed.
“Come in.”
The door slides to the side and it's Pah and Mitsuya. That does something in Mikey's chest, he can't quite identify the feeling but something moves.
“You ready?” Mitsuya frowns. “Why aren't you dressed?”
Mikey shrugs. “Kinda wasteful, isn't it?”
Mitsuya's lips press together and he squares up. “Excuses." He says dismissively and even years later Mikey can tell what he means to say is heathen. "Hurry up, or we'll be late.”
“Couldn't have that.” Mikey mutters and pulls off his nightgown. Pah makes a noise of shock that he ignores. His body is thinner and he's got more scars now. He could be shocked by either of these things. Mikey doesn't really care. Let them see and feel blessed that he abandoned them.
In the mirror, the clothes look good on him. Mitsuya has outdone himself, Mikey's defects are covered over and he almost looks like his younger self again. It's a complete stranger that's staring at him from the mirror.
“Feeling nervous?” Pah asks and leers at him in a way that feels entirely inappropriate.
“Should I?” Mikey asks because no matter what he'll always be more cocky than any of his (former) friends.
They lead him to the temples, there's a small crowd, watching them. Takemitchy is with the priest, he stumbles when he spots Mikey coming up the stairs. Mitsuya and Pah at his back like it's the old days. Mikey's step falters, Takemitchy is overdressed, his outfit matching Mikey's morbidly. His mouth twisted into a sheepish smile, Takemitchy offers him a hand, his fingers are trembling a bit.
Mikey hesitantly reaches back and Takemitchy interlaces their hands. His smile is all brave front and sheer terror behind. “Ready?” He asks.
Mikey is beginning to realize, he may have missed something. On the periphery, the nobles wear downturned smiles, whispering to each other. While hidden among the servants' numbers, Mizu Mid squad is taking notes. Something is going on.
Still Mikey hasn't lived his life, turning tail when things got complicated. He squeezes. “I was born ready.”
There's nothing Takemitchy can throw at him, he can't handle.
-
Mikey stands corrected.
Later his excuse will be shell-shock. And a little bit more later, he will admit that he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“In front of all the gods and goddesses, the spirits and the ghosts, you are bound, never to part.” The priestess says solemnly.
Mikey is king again. And Takemitchy still takes his crown, still holding onto Mikey, refusing to let go.
You're mine,
it says to the gods, to the nobility, to the people. Mikey can't tell if he's still breathing. Maybe his head has flown from his shoulders and this is his final delirium.
-
“What have you done?” He finds his voice and wit back in their chambers, their marital chambers. Somewhere outside the winds howl louder.
Takemitchy pauses with his fingers over his belt. “I've taken what's mine.”
“You'll never have the kingdom. Not now, no one will accept you, with me around.” Mikey says, not because he cares but because he's not sure Takemitchy understands. He was always entirely too naive.
Takemitchy snorts, like Mikey's the child. “Are my wishes so outrageous?” He says mildly. If only his eyes weren't lit with mad lightning.
“I only wanted to save you. Why would I kill you?” He goes on as though that makes more sense.
“You took my kingdom, you took everything.” Mikey whispers, taking an unconscious step back. Between their sentences, the silence grows ominous.
“Yes, but only because you took what was mine first.” Takemitchy sounds hurt which is laughable, Mikey did everything to make sure his seer would be happy.
“I only meant to protec--”
“You weren't there. I looked and you were gone!” Takemitchy crosses the room despite knowing that Mikey can break him like a stick and has done so before. Not that violence ever worked on Takemitchy, not that death stuck to him. It hovered around him, striking close but never hitting the mark.
“What did you think I was going to do? Live my life knowing that you were alone?”
The words cut across the room and Mikey falters. “I shouldn't have gone and put all my hopes on you.” Takemitchy quietly adds on.
White noise roars through Mikey's head, someone finally telling him what he is, never good enough, something disappointing beneath the shiny veneer.
“It was unfair, I was a a coward who wanted someone to take care of it all for me.” Melancholy rings in Takemitchy's words. Outside the summer storm has begun to rage, sending dancing shadows across their rooms, like swords drawn.
“I should have known better, unless I act, I get to keep no one.”
Mikey has to hand it to Takemitchy, he might be far crazier than him. He didn't think someone like this existed.
“All of this just to keep me? Is it worth it?” Mikey already knows the answer, sees it in his empty eyes.
“Of course, it is.” Takemitchy was never one for realism.
Mikey scoffs. “Are you sure?” Takemitchy seems unaware of the wolf that crawled to his door in the shadow of the storm. Mikey's not sure, he'll chase him off Takemitchy's testing his patience today.
“I've been to every future without you. Why do you think I came back?” Takemitchy says, his voice even and certain. For once, he's not smiling awkwardly like he's begging Mikey not to be mad. There's just a quiet acceptance.
“The nobles will never – “
“They will, they are committed to their survival, after all.” Takemitchy says easily.
“What if they come for you?”
Takemitchy laughs. “So many people have tried, half of my own people have tried to kill me at some point." He opens his arms invitingly. "They're free to take their shot." At Takemitchy is implied not at his friends nor anyone dear to him. That leaves Mikey with one final shot.
“Have you forgotten her?” Mikey can't bring himself to say her name. He's never lost a fight as badly as he lost to one Hinata Tachibana. She'd taken the field before Mikey even realized their was something to be won.“I'm just a means to an end, remember?”
Timid scaredy-cat Takemitchy only ever gave Mikey the time of the day to save his girl.
Takemitchy looks at him blankly and then he laughs again. “Yeah, you...you scared the shit out of me back then, still do sometimes. I think I even peed myself a little when you pretended you were going to hit me.” He eyes some fading bruises on his arms. “Definitely did when you beat me.” He doesn't say when, could be any of the times they clashed, the first time Mikey sent him to the healing house for weeks, the one time in between, the final time.
Takemitchy meets Mikey's eyes again. “But you weren't what I expected. You were terrifying but also amazing. Like the greatest guy, I ever met.” His eyes dart away again. “And for some reason, you liked me, even before the thing with Draken.” The name still hurts, makes something in Mikey want to burn the whole world to the ground but he keeps his temper. He's got no right Draken picked his side, and if he lived, he would have stood by Takemitchy's side against Mikey.
Takemitchy fiddles with his fingers, hedging his words. He can take all the time, he needs. Mikey's never had a chance to hear his side, after all and a masochistically curious part of him wants to know. The wolf will have to bid his time or better yet reconsider his choice of prey.
“No one ever looked at me like you did. Not without seeing some better or worse version of myself.” Takemitchy says.
Mikey's heartbeat is going up. “Hina was safe and everything was fine better than before even but I couldn't stand it.” Takemitchy mutters, a far away look on his face wistful and more beautiful than ever. “You say that you gave me everything I dreamt of but there's no dream of mine without you that's not a nightmare.” He pauses. "Hina knows what she's worth, she'll play second fiddle to no one."
“What kind of idiot falls in love with someone else while trying to save his girl?” Mikey says as though his heart isn't coming alive in his chest.
Takemitchy doesn't even flinch. “I never claimed to be smart.” He says.
Mikey tries to keep the anger but it's floating away from him. “The nobles;" He says with feebleness, he feels less by the second. "Do you know how many enemies, I've made. The fight will never be over." But Takemitchy laughs as though he's not destabilizing his own kingdom.
"Mikey, love, don't pretend to care. You love it."
Now, it's Mikey who comes close, a lion on the prowl. "And is that for you?" He says, skimming along the line of Takemitchy's chin. "Cowardly crybaby? Aren't you shaking little kit?"
Mikey grabs at Takemitchy's belt pulling them chest to chest and Takemitchy doesn't so much as blush. His hand slides along Takemitchy's waist. "Everyone knows that the ram is a devil beast. Go mad with me, lion king." Mikey grips the long knife, sheathed at Takemitchy's belt, twists around and buries it in the assassin's chest. Takemitchy wraps his arms around him.
"See, my lion. What glorious prey, I lure to you. You'll conquer the whole world at my side."
Takemitchy is worse than Mikey but Mikey finds he likes worse. He likes this picture that Takemitchy invokes of a world where Mikey's darkness is needed appreciated and coveted.