Summary: In which Yata's brother comes to Shizume for a visit after five years, and he learns that there are even more similarities between him and his younger sibling than he realized. (That, and a certain nuisance shows up too.)
(Set before K: Return of Kings and after K: Missing Kings, and after Season Two of Bungo Stray Dogs. I own nothing, and enjoy!)
It was a normal morning in Shizume for its residents, especially for one bar in particular. Kusanagi Izumo wiped down the countertop before stepping back and sighing in satisfaction; HOMRA was ready for business this cool summer day. To his right sat Anna, who overlooked the place before nodding her approval. The Red King rested her elbows on the counter at last with a neutral expression on her face but Kusanagi could tell that she was content.
"Nice start to a summer day, eh Anna?" He spoke up, watching with a small smile as she nodded once more. "I think today's going to be a quiet one, at least - "
"KUSANAGI! ANNA!" HOMRA's vanguard Yata Misaki burst through the door, an excited grin on his face. His skateboard was tucked under one arm, the other having pushed the doors open. "I have some awesome news!"
" - until Yata comes in," Kusanagi sighed, and he could've sworn that Anna laughed at him but he can't be too sure. The blond then gave his shorter friend his attention at the word "news".
"And that 'awesome' news would be…?"
"My brother's visiting Shizume for the weekend!" Kusanagi raised an eyebrow in surprise as the last word left Yata's lips, having forgotten the last time Yata's brother visited HOMRA; a couple years, at least...right?
Well, half brother. All Kusanagi knew was that they had the same mother but different fathers.
"Nakahara-san is visiting…?" Anna asked quietly, a small smile on her lips. Yata's brother was as precious to her as any other member of HOMRA, and she cherished each visit.
While unofficial, he was an honorary member of HOMRA.
And HOMRA treated its members like family.
"Yeah! He'll love to see you again Anna." Yata was practically beaming, picking up his skateboard again as he walked out the door. "I just stopped by to tell you guys that. I'm going to the subway station to pick him up and we're coming straight here afterwards. See you then!" Once on the sidewalk he set his board down, planting one foot on it and pushing off with the other to head off.
Kusanagi sighed.
"I'd better give this place another once-over, then. Oh, and I have to prepare some Pétrus..."
The streets of Shizume seemed to become livelier as the day progressed, the sun beating down on the residents as they travelled to and fro. One man in particular, who looked somewhat lost but was too proud to show it, folded his arms across his chest and tapped his foot impatiently. A quick flick of the wrist revealed that it was 11:32 am. His long black coat hanged off of his shoulders, gently lulled by the passing breeze that swept through the city.
"He's running late…" The man grumbled, adjusting his black gloves and fedora before letting his cerulean orbs scan the passerby. A black suitcase sat next to him, the handle pulled all the way out from its compartment. "...as usual."
"... - NII-CHAN!"
"Oof!" A force knocked into him and he wrapped his arms around the other, a small smile wiping away the previous scowl. "You could've killed me there, Misaki!"
"No way!" Yata Misaki boasted before pulling back from the hug, lightly punching his shoulder. "My onii-chan is a badass mafia executive; there's practically no one in the world who can beat him!"
"You know that's not true, squirt; remember, there's always someone stronger than you out there." He reached a hand up to ruffle his little brother's hair, the smile turning into a grin. "Anyways, how have you been holding up? How's HOMRA? Oh, how's your friend Saruhiko doing? What about Mikoto?"
"I've been good, Chuuya-nii!" Yata picked up his skateboard, which finished its journey towards them after the vanguard had launched himself off of it to hug his brother. "And HOMRA's as good as ever! Saru...I-I'll tell you later. Mikoto-san…" Once he visibly withdrew in on himself, his brother frowned in worry. "...is gone. And Totsuka-san…" A small, shaky smile appeared on his face. "...wow, we have a lot to catch up on don't we?"
"It seems that way. I have a few things to tell you about Yokohama, too." The older brother, Chuuya, snapped his fingers and began to walk. His suitcase glowed red and levitated, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. Yata followed suit, dropping his beloved board to the ground and cruising alongside him.
"Anna's the new Red King, in Mikoto-san's stead."
"Ah? Anna, you say?" A grin. "I haven't seen her in ages. How is she?"
"Taking Mikoto-san's death in stride." Yata replied grimly, pushing off the ground for leverage. "I said that she could rely on me whenever she needed to, but - "
"How many times have I told you not to overwork yourself, Misaki?" Chuuya cut him off with a stern frown. "You can't carry the weight of the world, you know; you're only nineteen years old."
"I already know that, Chuuya-nii! It's just - …I want to be there for her, you know? This whole role as a King was suddenly thrust on to her and she was really close with Mikoto-san. She's being strong about it all, and she ultimately brought HOMRA back together." Yata deflated, looking at the passing gravel as they traversed to the bar. "I'm just an idiot with Aura and a skateboard. There has to be something I can do; anything, really. Just...to whoever's listening: don't let Anna carry all of this on her own."
Chuuya examined him for a moment before huffing.
"You've grown up some, haven't you?"
"HEY, WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"
They shared a laugh before HOMRA came into view. Once they were close enough to the bar Chuuya stopped in his tracks, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. Yata slowed to a stop, stepping off his skateboard and tucking it underneath one armpit.
"Here we are, Chuuya-nii!" He beamed as he swung the double doors open, his older brother blinking rapidly as he adjusted to the change in lighting. Once the two stepped inside they were greeted with banners strewn across the ceiling, party poppers going off (courtesy of Dewa and Chitose) in celebration.
"Welcome back, Chuuya!" The members of HOMRA cheered as confetti fell onto Chuuya's fedora. They surged forward to hug him or high-five him, in Kamamoto's case. The Mafia Executive's eyes widened at the display; he wasn't...expecting this at all. The lights, the laughs, the hugs…
It felt good to be home.
"...I'm back, you crazy lunatics." He sighed fondly with a grin threatening to tear his face in two, taking a seat at the bar. His suitcase dropping to the ground next to him as he deactivated his Ability, a soft thud occurring.
"Your wine, Chuu-chan." Kusanagi offered, pouring him a glass of his beloved Pétrus.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Izumo-san? It's Chuuya." Kusanagi laughed at the exasperation in the Executive's voice, polishing a glass cup as a smile made its way onto his face.
"Only when you learn to call me Izumo, Chuu-chan; we're practically the same age, you know." Chuuya sighed in defeat, turning on his stool to watch Eric tease Yata about being a chihuahua, the taller male putting a hand on Yata's head. The teen protested and lightly joked about clobbering the blond, the rest of HOMRA laughing at their light ribbing.
It was almost as if nothing had changed.
But...everything did.
Tatara wasn't taking pictures to remember this moment, and Mikoto wasn't lounging on the couch with Anna by his side.
Chuuya turned back to face Kusanagi, expression serious.
"What happened to Mikoto?"
The bar fell silent, and the cup Kusanagi held shattered against the floor.
"Ah, Fushimi-san…" Akiyama, a proud member of SCEPTER 4, poked his head into the blue-haired male's office before entering with a stack of papers. "The Captain sent these for you to look over."
"Another load of papers? Give me a break…" Fushimi Saruhiko, another member of SCEPTER 4 and ex-member of HOMRA, clicked his tongue in annoyance at the rather excessive paperwork his King was giving him. Akiyama smiled apologetically and gently placed them on his desk, turning on his heel before leaving. Once he was at the doorway he paused, sending a glance over his shoulder.
"If you want a lighter burden, Fushimi-san, I could take some off of your hands."
"...Do what you want." Akiyama took that as an affirmation to walk back and take half of the stack for his own, quickly exiting in case Fushimi changed his mind.
Well, it wasn't like he was going to. Less work meant more free time, after all.
But...he really needed to finish this before he arrived.
Twirling his pen in his grasp, he pressed the tip against the first of many papers littered with words. Deep down, he was thankful for Akiyama's comprehension; the man knew when Fushimi had more important things to do and didn't bother with idle chit chat.
He's not going to say that to his face, though.
With an annoyed huff he began his new assignment, adding his own input here and there. While filing reports wasn't as bad as some thought it would be, the Captain had a nasty habit of creating a simple rough draft and leaving his subordinates to finish the rest.
Honestly, his laziness rivalled Mikoto's.
Mikoto-san. The name made him grip the writing utensil tighter to the point that it almost broke. A small part of him wondered how HOMRA was taking his death; it had almost been a year, hasn't it?
His scarred flesh began to itch, and he scratched it absentmindedly. He couldn't fool himself; he was worried about how Misaki was coping with the death of his King.
Good riddance. Fushimi scowled as he smothered the worry until it died out, leaving nothing but the usual emptiness. Now Misaki knows how it feels.
"My, my, Saru-kun; glare anymore and you'll burn holes in the paper."
The voice dragged him out of his reverie and he glanced up to see that man.
Dazai Osamu.
His brother.
(...Half brother.)
"And how long were you going to stand there before making your presence known, Dazai?"
"Aww, no "Osa-niisan" for me?" The brown-haired man put a hand to his chest in mock offense, his tan overcoat rustling as he moved. "What happened to my cute younger brother?"
"You've been gone for four years. Things change." Fushimi responded flatly, a small tch leaving him as he focused back on the stack of papers. "If you don't mind, I'm working. Go bother someone else."
"I don't know anyone besides you, though!" Dazai whined childishly, making Fushimi's eyebrow twitch. Seriously...who was the older one here?
"Knowing you, you would have asked Awashima-san to commit double suicide." He hit the nail right on the head. Once he saw Dazai go rigid and sweat profusely, he quickly drew a conclusion on his brother's success rate.
"I take it she turned you down?" The light teasing from his otherwise stoic brother threw Dazai off for a bit, and he pouted.
"...We'll leave it at that, Saru-kun..."
Silence descended on them, allowing Fushimi to go through half of his stack in rapid succession. Dazai seemed to watch him work before giving his office a once-over. He hummed in affirmation before giving Fushimi an innocuous smile while closing his eyes.
"What brought on this change of pace, deshi Saruhiko?*"
The question smacked Fushimi across the face. A flash of red flames accompanied by yellow eyes crossed his mind's eye and he involuntarily scowled. "Got bored. It has been five years, ani Osamu."
A tense atmosphere settled between them, so thick that a knife could cut through it. Just before Fushimi opened his mouth to say something his brother opened his eyes again, curiosity and amusement floating in his chocolate pools.
"You've certainly changed, Saru-kun."
He looked away in annoyance. "Again; five years."
"I was wondering why you, a member of HOMRA, would be working at SCEPTER 4. Last time I checked, there was a sort of rivalry between them."
Fushimi silently growled, pushing his paperwork away from him. Dazai had hit a sore spot, and heaven forbid if he asked about Misaki. "I was wondering why my brother left Port Mafia to join the Armed Detective Agency because of what another idiot said. Last time I checked, there was a sort of rivalry between them."
Once Dazai's warm eyes seemed to freeze over, Fushimi realized his mistake. "...Whatever; let's - "
"You know exactly why I left, Saruhiko-kun. And don't speak about Odasaku-kun like that." Dazai's voice was light, but hinted at something darker. Of course Fushimi knew; he had made sure to keep tabs on Dazai just in case he got into trouble...
But of course the bastard was still fine. He's Dazai Osamu, after all.
Something ugly welled up inside the third-in-command, making his cerulean orbs glean with contempt as he met Dazai's stare.
"Don't you think I had the same reasons?" Fushimi replied bitterly before standing up. Fuck paperwork; he needed some air.
Dazai seemed surprised, if not taken aback. "...Saru-kun - "
"Tch." His scoff cut him off. "Whatever; I'm heading out."
"Wait, Saruhi - "
The door slammed shut behind him, cutting Dazai's voice off. He fervently scratched his self-inflicted scar, the faded tattoo of flames along with the words HOMRA being crossed out by his injured flesh.
Back inside Fushimi's office, Dazai sighed. "...It seems too much has changed, hasn't it Saru-kun?" All that answered him was silence. After shoving his hands into his pockets, the suicidal maniac exited the quiet room.
While it felt like Fushimi made his home here…
It was too lonely for his liking.
"Time to be a responsible older brother."
/Part Two is underway, and thank you for reading this! Review your thoughts so far, if you'd like!