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What am I, his errand boy or something?, Yata huffed, inspecting the crumbled piece of paper in his left hand to make sure he’d gotten everything on the list.
Kusanagi had sent him grocery shopping, claiming he was missing some items in the bar. Since every other Homra member was off doing something else and he was, as the bartender had put it, on standby, the dangerous mission of going to the nearest supermarket two streets ahead and getting whatever it was that Kusanagi claimed to be missing was entrusted to him.
The idea had been subjected to protests at first, of course, but Yata eventually agreed to it. If he wanted to be honest with himself this would probably be the most action he’d get all week, so he’d take it. He was glad he at least had a chance to leave the bar with some kind of purpose.
Not that he minded his assigned mission of staying in the shadows if something happened. Protecting Anna was his priority after all, she was his king and he’d do anything to make sure she was safe. But he was starting to get rusty sitting at bar Homra doing pretty much nothing exciting all day while everyone else got to kick some green guys’ butts together with the blues. The bastards were even having fun.
It just didn't seem fair.
He sighed and decided to go through the list in his hands one final time.
Wood wax, check.
Coffee beans, check.
Vanilla ice cream, check.
Red bean paste, che-
Yata’s nose crunched up in disgust.
He still didn't know how something like red bean paste was important for anything – or rather, anyone –, but it's not like he could say much about it. After all, he wasn’t he owner of the bar and he knew nothing about the ingredients needed for the drinks and cocktails and very very elaborate food dishes Kusanagi usually occupied himself with.
Red bean paste was still disgusting nonetheless.
He checked the rest of the list carefully and nodded to himself. He’d gotten everything and he was good to go. Yata smiled and put the crumbled paper back in his pocket, making his way to the cashier.
Yata sighed contentedly as soon as he got out into the cold breeze of December, two plastic bags in each hand. The streets were full of life, he noticed, and there were people walking in and out of every store. Christmas was nearly there, so it was to be expected. He wondered if they were going to have some celebration at the bar this year. Anna deserved to have a proper Christmas after all.
He had to go spend some time with his family too. Minoru and Megumi would surely be happy to see him. He smiled fondly at the mental image of his younger siblings. It had been a while since he’d last seen them, and Yata missed spending time with them both.
Suddenly, there was a small tug in his shorts. Yata looked down and saw a small girl staring up at him.
Maybe she’s lost?, he thought, and crouched down next to her.
“Do you need anything?” he asked. The little girl was blushing, small puffs of white leaving her mouth as she breathed the cold winter air. She was hiding her hands behind her back, shifting from one foot to the other. It seemed like she couldn’t bring herself to look at him now that they were at the same wavelength, focusing her big blue eyes on the pavement. Anyone could tell she was visibly insecure.
When Yata thought she was finally about to say something, she pushed a tiny box into his chest and hurriedly ran off to the other side of the road.
Yata looked at the child, brows coming together in mild conflict.
His eyes travelled from her small figure to the box in his hands and back to the girl. He noticed she had crossed the road and decided to stop next to what he assumed was a teenage boy with long hair and sunglasses, who was now eagerly patting her head. When he gave her a red lollipop the girl brightened up almost instantly and walked away happily, trying to unfold the plastic covering her desired candy.
The boy watched her go and grinned, taking his PDA out of his pocket and pressing a few buttons. Suddenly, he turned his attention to Yata and his grin grew wider. He muttered something in his direction that he couldn’t quite understand due to all the noise.
Something was wrong.
There was green reflected in the boy’s sunglasses.
Yata should have realized sooner what the whole thing had been about. When he figured out what exactly was happening he only had time to throw the tiny box a few feet away from him before it exploded. It wasn’t anything too big or flashy, but if he had kept holding on to it, he knew he would have suffered some pretty serious damage. Fortunately there hadn’t been anyone next to him when he threw the small device to the ground.
He looked up, eyes fiery red, trying to spot the teenager in sunglasses, only to find out that he’d started running, PDA in hand. Yata felt a rush of adrenaline go through his body and forgot about the stuff he’d gotten from the supermarket, letting the plastic bags drop to the floor unceremoniously in order to pursue the boy.
As he was running, there was a thought that wouldn’t leave his mind. The stupid idiot took advantage of a child. That little girl could have gotten hurt because some prick connected to the greens wanted to get some stupid points off of injuring me.
Yata felt sick.
His feet were heavy. He had been thinking of his siblings only a few moments ago. That young girl didn’t know what she was doing and something really bad could have happened to her if she hadn’t given him the box in time. Yata tried to avoid thinking of the possibility of someone doing something similar to Minoru and Megumi.
The greens surely were a bunch of sick fuckers.
He regretted not bringing his skateboard with him. He had intended to take it, but Kusanagi said he’d have a lot of stuff to carry and it wouldn't be too useful. What could possibly happen in a simple trip to the supermarket two streets ahead after all?
Yata wanted to laugh at his own stupidity.
Catching up to the guy on foot with the streets so busy was proving to be a hard challenge, and after a while Yata seemed to have lost him in the crowd.
Fucking scumbag!
He kicked the nearest wall, frustration swollen in every inch of his body. Where could that guy have gone to? There were a lot of places he could be hiding in, that is, if he hadn’t gotten into one of the alleys and escaped to a different street already.
Feeling defeated, Yata looked down at his feet and pondered going back to the supermarket to at least get the things he’d left behind. But he was pretty sure the items had suffered some kind of damage when they fell and the money he still had in his pockets wasn't enough to buy everything once again. He’d have to apologize to Kusanagi for that.
A long sigh left his lips and he adjusted his beanie, scratching the back of his head. All of a sudden, he heard a loud crash that seemed to have come from an alley a couple of feet ahead.
Is it him?, he thought, rushing off to the place immediately.
When he got there though, he didn't find the long haired teenager. Instead, he found a pair of blue eyes that locked gaze with his almost instantly. Saruhiko was there, fighting against a group of members of the green clan.
By himself.
Yata shouldn’t really have expected otherwise.
The greens kept moving towards Saruhiko, trying to attack him from different angles at the same time. It seemed to be a group of around 7 or 8 guys; Yata didn’t really have time to count them before instinct kicked in and he moved in to help his clearly outnumbered former friend. He miscalculated his step though, and one of the enemies spotted him instantly, swinging the bat he was holding in his direction. Yata crouched, successfully avoiding the blow, and in a matter of seconds he swiped the guy’s feet off the ground, making him stumble and fall backwards with a violent thud.
The other greens turned to see what had happened and some of them were visibly concerned now that they had two opponents to take care of. The others started making their way towards him, claiming they’d definitely move to the next rank if they took Yatagarasu down because he was also worth a lot of jungle points and he seemed to be weaker compared to Scepter 4’s number 3.
A cold breeze swept over the alley but Yata’s blood was boiling hot and all he could see was red. Things were about to get interesting.
The fight had ended earlier than he thought it would.
The greens weren't weak, but their advantage relied on their number more than anything else. Things would have been a lot easier if he had brought his skateboard with him though, but Yata managed to move around pretty quickly without it as well.
Saruhiko hadn’t said a word to him as he joined the fight, solemnly focused on taking down their opponents. Said opponents, most of them injured, fled from the place after realizing they couldn't win that fight. Some others were scattered here and there, clutching legs and dragging themselves on the ground. Their PDAs roared with an alert like tune, and they complained about losing all of their points as they exited the alley into the busy street Yata had come from.
“Aren't we gonna go after them?” he asked. Saruhiko grunted, and muttered a low “There’s no need.”, almost like a whisper.
Yata’s eyes searched for Saruhiko’s figure in the back of the alley. When he spotted him, he was collecting some of his knives from the pavement so he’d be able to use them again if needed. Yata wondered exactly how many that guy could fit inside his uniform. It was actually surprising to watch him get the knives back, in a way. Yata never got to whiteness it before, so he just assumed Saruhiko would order a new stash of knives every couple of days. The blues had enough money for that, didn’t they?
“If you think I’m gonna thank you for butting in you’re wrong.” he heard Saruhiko mumble, tuneless. “I could have taken them down myself.”
“Hah? What did you say?”
Saruhiko detached one knife from the wall of the old building to his right and turned to face him. “You heard me, didn’t you Misaki?”
Yata would have come up with an answer quickly enough, but no words left his mouth when he noticed an unusual shade of red spreading through the blue coat Saruhiko was wearing and his eyes widened visibly.
“O–Oi Saru, you’re bleeding!” he heard himself shout. Saruhiko looked down at his left side to where the blood was coming from and when their eyes met again Yata could swear there was something in his expression that seemed to have shifted for a second - just a mere second-, and then it was gone.
All he got as an answer was a dragged out “Way to state the obvious, idiot.” followed by the usual click of tongue. Then, without warning, Saruhiko started making his way towards the exit of the alley.
Somehow that attitude really got in his nerves.
“Ch—! Where are you going like that?” Yata felt a gnawing frustration settle itself in his stomach. He started to make his way towards Saruhiko when he heard a loud “Don’t.” that made him halt in his step.
“This is nothing. Leave me alone.” Saruhiko added, back still turned towards him. Yata could only wonder what was going through his head. The hollow frustration was becoming ever bigger now, but he wouldn’t back down.
Not this time.
“I have to get you patched u-”
“Stop playing friends with me, Misaki!” His eyes widened when Saruhiko turned around. There was a sort of desperate tone to his expression, he was breathing hard and his face was paler than usual.
“We’re on the same side now, aren’t we? The blues and Homra, we’re allies! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Saruhiko stood rigid for a second before a wide grin broke its way into his face. “Allies, huh? Is that what you think, Misaki? Have I become your ally now?”
There was no response coming. Yata just stood there, hands cold despite the erratic beating of his heart.
Saruhiko must’ve taken it as a clue to keep talking, and so he did.
“Fighting together, playing friends… how long do you think that’s gonna last? This is useless. I don’t need your help. I’m still a traitor, remember? Misaki…” every syllable of his name was dragged out raw. Saruhiko had started scratching the scarred symbol next to his collarbone, and Yata was dangerously close to losing the control he had over himself. He wouldn’t fight Saruhiko though, not when he was in that condition.
With his fists closed tight, he took a step forward. “Just shut up and let me patch you up, stupid monkey! I’m not letting you go out there like that!”
Saruhiko’s grin vanished from his face. “Is that so? Watch me then.” he murmured and turned away again with a click of his tongue. Then, he resumed walking towards the end of the alley.
It only took Saruhiko a couple of steps until he fell sideways against the wall, clutching his left side as a whimper of pain left his lips. He tried to cover his mouth with the other hand, coughing violently. It seemed like his entire body was shaking and Yata didn’t hesitate as he rushed to his side. When facing each other, Saruhiko tried to push him away, but Yata held on to his arms and it didn’t take much force to bring him reluctantly to a sitting position on the ground.
Neither of them was saying anything now. Yata sighed.
He reached into his jacket’s pocket and took out a white scarf. Anna had given it to him, saying that it was cold already and he should take it with him on his way to the supermarket. Yata didn’t have enough strength in him to tell her he wouldn’t need it, so he thanked her earnestly and exited the bar with the scarf in his hands.
Looks like this thing is gonna be useful after all, he thought, and crouched in front of Saruhiko. His former friend was staring at his every move with a doubtful glee in his eyes.
“You need to take off your coat.”
Saruhiko’s brows furrowed at that and he coughed some more. “Why should I?” he asked.
Yata gestured towards the wound and answered “I can’t try to stop the bleeding properly if you’re wearing it.”
Saruhiko made no move to take off the coat. Instead he lifted it over his wound, looking off to the side. Yata figured that was the most he’d get. But he was fine with that.
The wound had probably been caused by something sharp, as it had cut through Saruhiko’s clothes under his coat and the coat itself. Yata brought his hands to the area, receiving a grunt from his former friend. It seemed to be a big cut of sorts, so he lifted the end of Saruhiko’s vest and white shirt to inspect the damage.
Saruhiko instinctively tried to pull them back down, breathing hard. Yata didn’t let him though, his grip tight and determined. He winced when he looked at the uncovered wound. It was a deep cut in the lower part of his abdomen and the flesh around it was swollen, red and irritated.
He wondered how something like that had actually happened.
Saruhiko coughed some more in front of him.
Intent on cleaning the wound, Yata grabbed the scarf Anna had given him. He dabbed the skin with it it as carefully as he could, eyes locking with Saruhiko’s.
It was almost hypnotizing, in a way.
He remembered getting lost in those blue eyes a lot in the past, when they still weren’t aware of clans and kings, when they still hadn’t faced powerlessness and failure. Those blue eyes just seemed to pull him in and lock him there and he felt surrounded by blue, drowning in a sea of lost dreams and broken promises.
What happened to us?
He wanted to say something. He wanted to know what made Saruhiko leave him, what happened to the bond they once shared. He had tried asking that already though, more than once. And that hadn’t gotten him anywhere.
Yata lowered his gaze to the ground.
As he wrapped the scarf around Saruhiko’s waist, there was a knot in his throat that he couldn’t get rid of. It was suffocating and Yata wanted to get himself free, but he didn’t know how to.
Suddenly he felt Saruhiko squirm in front of him, trying to get himself fixed so he could get up. The act caught Yata by surprise and he lost his footing for a second, having to support his weight in the wall in order not to fall on top of Saruhiko.
That was close!, he thought, looking down to check if something had happened to his former friend. His breath got caught in his throat when he realized how close their faces were. Both of his hands were on either side of Saruhiko’s head, and his own head was held just a bit higher than his.
He felt a traitorous blush accommodate itself in his cheeks.
Saruhiko, on the other hand, looked as if he’d seen a ghost, eyes wide and mouth open. One of his hands was still clutching his white shirt and vest while the other was lost mid-air, as if frozen in time.
They just stood like that. Breathless. Unmoving.
Yata’s heart was killing him, jumping around madly in his chest. The last time they’d been so close had been years ago, back in those simpler times when they decided to sleep in the same bed during winter because it was too cold in their apartment and it’d be a lot warmer with both of them tucked in under the same blankets, sharing body heat and happiness. Yata was always the first one to wake up the next morning. Most times he’d stay in bed a lot longer than he initially intended to, because Saruhiko was there and everything felt so comfortable and so right. Some mornings he’d catch himself staring at Saruhiko’s face mere centimeters away from him, oblivious to anything else. Then he’d hesitantly touch his cheek, always careful not to wake him up, as if the warmth and softness of it were to disappear at any moment.
The jolt that shot through him when he felt something cold in his right hand was enough to bring him back and he noticed said hand had made its way to Saruhiko’s cheek without his actual consent.
Saruhiko’s cheek was still soft to the touch, he mused, but something about it felt different.
Why is your face so cold?
Without giving it much thought, Yata brought his head forward, forehead bumping lightly with Saruhiko’s. He closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of the all the mixed feelings he could feel coursing through him.
He didn’t know what he was doing.
Saruhiko’s breath got mixed in with his own and Yata felt his whole body shiver. He inhaled deeply, trying to get a hold of his breathing, but he couldn’t. Not when he felt so intoxicated, so highly affected by the adrenaline that ran freely in his blood.
That unidentifiable feeling and the anticipation of what was about to happen were crashing down in waves in his chest.
Yata didn’t know who leaned in first to catch the other’s lips.
He felt a bolt of electricity burst from the contact and his right hand, still in Saruhiko’s cheek, started to tremble slightly. His heart was beating too fast.
After a few seconds of awkwardly trying to figure out what to do, he started to move his lips softly against Saruhiko’s, who didn’t seem to show any sort of resistance as he stood motionless in front of him. Yata dismissed it, assuming it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. At least he hadn’t pulled away.
What’s happening?
Yata felt himself get dizzy with every passing second. His thoughts were nothing but a jumbled mess in his brain. He couldn’t give up the warmth though, couldn’t let go of that spark of contact that had him blushing feverishly up to the tip of his ears. He did his best to tilt his head sideways, which wasn’t something as easy as it would seem, mostly because Saruhiko’s glasses were in the way and they kept bumping against some part of his face. It wasn’t a big issue though. He could put up with that.
He brought his other hand up to touch Saruhiko’s hair and bring him closer - as if something like that was possible with the way they were positioned against the wall. But as soon as his fingers made contact with their desired target, he felt Saruhiko flinch noticeably in front of him and suddenly their lips weren’t touching anymore.
“S–Saru?” he found himself whispering, voice hoarse. His eyes were halfway shut and he could barely make up his former friend’s features due to their remaining proximity, but he could feel the other’s ragged breath against his face.
Shit. Had he done something wrong?
He was trying to think of something to say, something good enough to justify his actions and the erratic beating of his heart. Saruhiko hadn’t moved much during the whole thing, whatever that was. Maybe Yata did fuck up. Maybe he shouldn’t have leaned in, shouldn’t have brought their lips together like that.
Right then, he felt slim fingers ghost over his exposed neck, seemingly afraid to touch it. Yata leaned his head against them, as an act of encouragement. To his relief, the cold fingers made their way to the back of his head and fixed themselves in his hair, holding him in place.
This is better, Yata though, smiling contentedly.
And thus all sense of self control was lost.
For the second time their lips found their way to each other, restoring the previously lost connection. This kiss had a different feel to it though. It had an edge of fiery violence to it. It was bold, strong and vigorous. The initial hesitation was gone and it was as if they had started fighting in a way they hadn’t before.
It seemed as if their bodies were nothing but colors, clashing, gnawing at each other. Red and blue strived for dominance in an endless battle, baring their weapons and sloppily touching lips, tongues, teeth. They forgot everything, forgot everyone. There were no clans, no comrades and no kings.
The world was finally theirs again.
The kiss was fast paced and needy. As they moved carelessly, Yata felt his knees tremble and his mind returned to a drowsy haze. It was too hard to concentrate on anything other than those lips, those tentative bites of flesh and the adrenaline that left him drowning and craving more. Saruhiko was there, in front of him, touching him and kissing him. His cold fingers did wonders in Yata’s hair and he felt like he could stay there forever, cradling Saruhuko’s face in his hands in a random alley during a chilly December afternoon.
When they inevitably had to break the kiss for air both of them were breathing loudly. Yata’s blood pumped excitedly through his veins.
We just kissed. Twice.
The thought hit him like a ton of bricks as reality started to settle itself around them, like a cold breeze sweeping over their heads. That had been his first kiss, his very first one. And his second too, technically. Yata was baffled and he didn’t know what to do now.
Everything was quiet. Saruhiko wasn’t saying anything and the silence and uncertainty waving around them were so palpable that Yata could feel a small shiver running up his arms.
He lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes, almost afraid of what he’d find. The sight before him had Yata transfixed within seconds.
There was a noticeable red tone adorning Saruhiko’s pale skin and his lips were plump and wet. His hair was disheveled and his glasses looked slightly off place, almost at the edge of his nose. Yata couldn’t bring himself to look away, couldn’t say anything. That unidentifiable feeling crawled through his bloodstream again and he felt strangely intoxicated.
Is that how you look like when you’ve just been kissed?, he thought.
“You look stupid.” Saruhiko muttered suddenly, effectively breaking the silence between them. He then placed a hand on Yata’s shoulder and pushed him back so that he could get up. He clicked his tongue when he realized he had to use the wall for support and once he was standing he fixed his clothes and adjusted his glasses.
Yata was confused at the sudden loss of warmth. Still crouching, he tried to reach for Saruhiko’s jacket only to find his hand slapped away almost instantly, as if it was burning and the heat of it was unbearable. Taken aback by the harsh movement, he felt his brain get flooded with a wild mix of uncertainty and hurt. His eyes traveled from his hand to Saruhiko’s figure and he couldn’t pinpoint what he’d done wrong.
He got up and brought a hand to the back of his head.
Sure, it’s not like he could expect much coming from someone like Saruhiko, but they had kissed, hadn’t they? More than once, even. He knew nothing about how these things worked, but he did know this wasn’t the type of thing someone could easily dismiss like that. Weren’t they supposed to discuss things, to talk to each other?
Why won’t you say anything?
Yata bit his lip. His heart wouldn't stop hammering painfully against his ribs and the tightness in his throat was only getting worse with each moment. He tried to think of something to say, something that could make things right, something that would prevent Saruhiko from leaving. But he couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t focus properly with his heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears.
Something that sounded like a suppressed whimper of pain caught Yata’s attention. His head immediately turned upwards, and he found Saruhiko a few feet in front of him, leaning on the nearest wall for support as he made his way to the busy streets ahead. His wound was probably bleeding again and Anna’s cloth, still properly wrapped around his waist, hadn’t been enough to prevent that.
“Saru, wait!” Yata rushed to his side and tried to get a hold of him.
Saruhiko immediately pulled his arm out of reach. “Don’t touch me!” he said and whirled around to face him, voice shaking. There was a desperate tone to his narrowed eyes and he chuckled quietly despite himself, standing on shaking legs.
“But you — I mean, I–I didn’t — your wound — " Yata stumbled, searching for the right words. Saruhiko took a handful of steps in his direction and stopped in front of him.
“You really are the biggest idiot, aren’t you Misaki? I already told you I don’t need your help. I’m not your friend.” Saruhiko looked at him then, really looked at him. His gaze was so inhumanly icy that it made Yata wince almost instantly. “Oh? Did you think something would change now? Did you think kissing me would fix anything? Did you think I’d be thankful for all of your half-hearted pity?”
“Dammit Saruhiko, just listen to me! I didn’t help you out of pity! That’s not why I kis— why that happened either!”
Before he could say anything else, Saruhiko cut him off. “You’re really pathetic Misaki. You come to me talking about alliances, you treat my wounds and you kiss me like you care so much.”
Saruhiko laughed coldly and Yata clenched his fists tight as he struggled to keep himself in check. Those words felt like a stab aimed directly at him and there was nothing he could do but endure the raw pain of every single hit.
“Your worthless affection means nothing to me, it’s utterly ridiculous. Don’t come at me like we’re comrades again, don’t pity me, don’t kiss me. I’m just a traitor, remember? You shouldn’t kiss the person who betrayed you.”
Yata’s brows furrowed and the tightness in his throat got stronger, but he decided to push his way through it. “You can’t tell me that kiss didn’t mean anything to you!”
Saruhiko didn’t give him an immediate answer. Yata noticed the way his hands shifted at that and a little glimmer of hope found its way to him, only to be ruthlessly crushed when Saruhiko took a step back, eyes devoid of any apparent emotion.
“Don’t pretend like you still know anything about me, Misaki.” he replied, a bothersome grimace on his face, and clicked his tongue. “If you’re going to keep saying such stupid things, I might as well just go.”
With that, Saruhiko turned to leave once more and this time there was nothing Yata could do but watch him go, unable to think of anything else.
He really had fucked up, hadn’t he?
His lips were trembling slightly and his hands fell to his sides in crushing defeat. His eyes followed Saruhiko’s figure as he reached the exit of the alley and got mixed in with the ever moving crowd, vanishing from sight.
Yata kicked the wall to his left, heart shivering despite himself. He kicked it over and over and over, ignoring the pain and the uncomfortable stinging in his eyes. As he felt the last bits of energy leaving him, he leaned against the wall and let himself slide down to sit on the ground.
There was wetness in his cheeks and he brought one of his hands to his face to swipe over them the best he could, but he was unable to contain the inevitable sob that rocked his body.
“Fucking idiot!” he yelled, unsure if he had meant it at himself or at Saruhiko.
Maybe both.
Probably both.