A/N: So this is my very first anime fanfiction and I've been experimenting with perspective so the whole thing's from Totsuka's camera's POV. Just to see what would happen. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and R.I.P. Totsuka-san.
Memory by Nikon
"…And this is HOMRA. Home, sweet home. Behind the counter is Kusanagi-san, the owner of this bar. Smile, Kusanagi-san!. And over here is Kamamoto-san. This is the summer version. No one understands why. And over here –"
"What are you doing?"
"Oh! Hey Yata-kun! I'm documenting our lives in HOMRA. That way we never forget what it was like when we were all young. Great, huh?"
Yata raises an eyebrow. "Uh…"
"Smile!"
"This isn't some sickly sweet home video thing, is it?"
"Heh. I guess it really wouldn't be you if you smiled."
Yata grumbles something under his breath.
"Anyway, Mikoto-san and Anna are usually upstairs. Mikoto-san is probably asleep but maybe if I'm quiet, I can sneak in and –"
The sound of the door opening and several footsteps clunking against the floor. Shouhei and Chitose are out of breath.
"It's Bandou-san!" Shouhei explains. "Some thugs just took him away!"
"What?!" Yata jolts to his feet. "Who was it?"
"I don't know. There were five of them. We tried to stop them, but…"
Yata growls low in his throat. He grabs his skateboard from its resting place against the wall. "They're gonna be sorry they ever messed with us."
"Shouldn't we get Mikoto-san?" Tatara asks.
Yata doesn't answer. Kicking off, he sails out the door.
"Uh, don't you at least want to know where it happened?" Chitose calls after him and then trails off lamely.
Behind the counter, Kusanagi sighs. "You guys go after him. I'll get Mikoto-san."
Shouhei and Chitose exchange a look and then glance at Tatara.
"What's with the old-timey camera?"
"I'm documenting."
"Sweet!" Shouhei flashes a smile.
"Hey, shouldn't we be keepin' the kid outta trouble?" Chitose says.
Seconds later, the three of them and summer-Kamamoto are running down the street, Shouhei and Chitose leading the way.
"It happened right here," Chitose says. He glances around, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair. "Damn. Where is he?"
The street leads into an alley, the perfect place for an ambush. A dumpster sits against one wall and a cleaning robot picks up crumpled bits of paper and food wrappers.
"So what do we do now?"
"We look," Chitose says. "Ask around. Maybe someone saw somethin'."
They continue down the street. There are plenty of people to talk to. A group of teenagers chatting and laughing, a man walking his dog, a family emerging from the ice cream shop. Shouhei goes to speak to the dog-walker while Kamamoto questions a group of young women who seem more interested in flirting than answering questions.
Tatara sighs. He catches the attention of a young man who looks at the camera and then immediately averts his eyes.
"Excuse me, but have you –?"
"I don't want to be filmed."
"Eh?"
"Just turn that thing away. I don't know anything."
There is a brief lovely view of the asphalt and then of Kamamoto shrugging away from the group who's gathered around him.
"That idiot," Chitose says suddenly and he points farther down the street.
Beyond the pedestrians and the cars is a commotion that can only be caused by a reckless skateboarder, causing people to jump out of the way and eliciting gasps and the occasional curse from the crowd.
Yata sees his fellow clansmen and comes to a sudden halt when he reaches them, flipping his skateboard up into his hands as he does so.
Chitose punches him in the arm. "You need to stop being so reckless, you idiot."
"Idiot?" Yata's brows furrow in annoyance. "While you guys were out fooling around, I found the jerks."
"Huh? Where?" Tatara asks.
Ten minutes later
"Whoa. That's a big house."
Yata snickers. "This'll be easy."
"You sure they went in there?"
"The guy I asked was pretty sure." Yata rolls his skateboard leisurely on the ground with one foot. "Only one way to find out." He approaches the door and after a hesitation, the others follow. He stops in front of the door and, uncharacteristically, rings the doorbell.
They wait.
The door opens and a young man stands there in a white shirt and black jacket, his dark hair meticulously groomed. When he sees who stand at his doorstep, he freezes and the most peculiar look crosses his face.
"That's one of 'em!" Chitose exclaims.
The guy tries to slam the door but Yata is quicker. He slips through and grabs him by the front of his shirt. "Where did you take Bandou-san, huh?" he demands, getting in the guy's face.
"I…uh," he stutters. "He's okay. We didn't hurt him, I swear!"
"Feh." Yata lets go and barges past him. The others take his cue and ignore the guy who, flustered, calls after them to stop.
They stomp up the stairs and there's the sound of voices beyond a door at the end of the hall.
"– don't have the authority for that," says a voice muffled by the door. Another voice answers but the words can't be made out. It sounds demanding.
"Bandou-san!"
"Yata!"
The door bursts inward and the voices cease. Round the corner. And in the room are two more men, also young, who stare at Yata with slack jaws and to the side is an unharmed Bandou, whose frustrated expression soon turns into one of relief.
"Are you okay?" Tatara asks Bandou as Yata points an accusing finger at the men. Shouhei pulls him back and there is a confusion of voices, accusatory, threatening, backing off. The guy who'd answered the door is now standing back in the hall, unwilling to take part.
"Yeah, yeah." Bandou waves his hand dismissively and though his eyes are now hidden behind sunglasses, his skin reddens with embarrassment.
"Look, we're sorry, okay! It was a mistake!"
"What? No it wasn't!"
"Kouta!
"Stop!"
The arguing fades and someone HOMRA hadn't noticed before steps forward.
"Hey, what is this?" Yata says.
It is a child, a boy who looks no more than eight years old. He's thin and pale and wears red pajamas. His eyes are large and show a vibrancy the rest of him lacks. He walks right up to Yata, completely unafraid.
"You're from HOMRA?" the boy says.
Yata doesn't know what to say. He wasn't expecting this. But it seems that the boy doesn't need a reply. He smiles widely.
"I want to join HOMRA."
"Eh?"
"Onii-chan says you guys have power and that you're strong. I want to be strong too!"
Most of the tension has left Yata's shoulders and he rubs the back of his neck. "Kid, it doesn't really work that way."
The child seems momentarily crestfallen and then turns to look at Tatara, who kneels so they're at the same level.
"What's your name?"
"Kita Naoki."
"Hello, Naoki-chan. I'm Tatara. Tell me why you want to join HOMRA."
"I want to be strong," Naoki says without hesitation. He casts his eyes down. "But I'm not allowed to leave the house. I'm sick. But Onii-chan told me about you guys and I know that if I join you, I'll become strong and I'll get better."
Tatara ruffles the boy's hair. "So your Onii-chan and his friends brought one of us to you."
The boy seems uncomfortable. "Well…I didn't think they were going to kidnap anyone. I didn't mean for this to happen, honest."
"That's okay. No one was hurt, so all's forgiven, right?"
Naoki looks back up and the smile slowly reappears.
"Looks like I'm late," says a voice from the hall.
"M-Mikoto-san!" Yata says.
Mikoto is standing beyond the doorway, casual, with a cigarette in his mouth and hands in his pockets.
Naoki looks suddenly nervous and says nothing.
"Yeah, everything's okay now," Tatara says.
Mikoto doesn't reply. Instead, he approaches Naoki and stares. Just stares and for the better part of a minute, no one speaks. Naoki grows increasingly concerned with this, his face reddening.
Finally, Mikoto bends at the waist and says, "Maybe in a few years. You still have some growing to do."
Naoki's expression is hopeful and disappointed at the same time. "But…"
Mikoto is already heading back through the door, but he turns and gives Naoki another glance. A small smile graces his features. "You'll live, kid."
Then he leaves. And Naoki stares after him and the way his eyes shine, it's obvious he believes it.
Back at HOMRA
Anna is staring. She blinks once and cocks her head.
"If you film everything, you won't be in any of the videos," she says.
Tatara laughs. "That's fine with me. I'm content filming all of you, my family."
"But you're family too."
Anna reaches out and after a blur of floor, couch, and bar, Tatara's face comes into view. He's smiling, his eyes narrowed jovially. "Anna…"
"Say something to the future."
"What?"
"Some day, we're going to watch this together. When we're older."
"Oh…uh, I dunno." Tatara pauses to think. "Stay safe, okay?"
"What kinda thing is that to say to our future selves, huh?" Bandou says.
"I was talking to future Yata-kun, actually."
"Hey!"
A rag sails across the room and hits Tatara on the side of the head.
"Hey, I was using that!"
"That glass is friggin' clean already!"
Tatara shakes his head and laughs.
The image is jostled. And terminates.
END