Chapter Text
After being rescued by Misaki, followed by Hirasaka Douhan, Saruhiko expected himself to feel like he needed to prove himself once again. He didn't. At all. His mind was somewhere else, so much so that by the time Douhan had got him back to one of Scepter 4's vans he was actually shocked to realise he didn't notice the journey going past. Is it normal to be this distracted? Not that he cared what was normal. He'd stopped caring what was normal for the healthy mind a long time ago. In fact, did he ever care? Maybe he should care. Did he care about anything? Misaki.
Saruhiko, for a moment, wondered why the words care and Misaki were close by each other in his train of thoughts. Saruhiko was thinking about him, definitely. All his thoughts were Misaki-centric. But was there ever a time when they weren't? Saruhiko did his work, for his King. His King. Misaki had phrased it perfectly. A 100 point answer. If an idiot like him could understand his connection to the Blues, then he could figure out how to say things so an idiot could understand. To explain things to Misaki. To patch things up with him. Patch things up? It wasn't a tear in a pair of jeans. He wasn't patching anything. Nonetheless, he wasn't even surprised when he came to the realisation that he cared about Misaki.
He thought back to everything that had just happened. Just before this mission started he'd taunted Misaki as usual. "Come after me." He had finished it with. Within that desperate taunt, an attempt to get Misaki's attention, what he'd craved all this time, he had let his feelings show without realising it. Come after me. Deep inside he had hoped Misaki would come after him. But was that caring for Misaki? Or was that just his own obsession? Misaki's attention was what he craved. Did that mean he cared about Misaki?
Constantly, throughout everything, there had been fear in the back of Saruhiko's mind. Fear for his own life? Fighting that green brat, when he thought it was all over, he was exasperated. Annoyed. He didn't want to die. He wondered why he took the mission in the first place. How stupid of him. But he'd done it for his King. Just like Misaki had said, had understood. Saruhiko wondered why he was more irritated at the thought of dying than scared. Probably not normal either. Then what did he fear? What was the fear in the back of his mind? Misaki.
He recalled all too clearly the fear when the green brat nearly did it, nearly took Misaki away from him. Did Misaki hear the anguish in his voice as he screamed his name, throwing a knife without a second thought, desperate to protect him? He was more scared at the thought of Misaki's death than of his own? Is that caring? Even now, after being rescued, he was still terrified. Misaki was still in there, still could get hurt, or worse. Fear. Was fear the same thing as caring? The same thing as love? A derivative of love? So fearing for someone else equated to love? Saruhiko began to laugh, startling the clansmen in the Scepter 4 van, probably sounding unhinged, unhealthy, abnormal, he didn't care.
He was so, so terrified.