Disclaimer: I do not own Project K nor any of its wonderful characters. The quotes taken from the manga/anime also belong to the respective author and translators.
Author's note: Makes more sense if you've read at least chapter 5, 15 and 16 of "K – Memory of red" since I've borrowed a lot of quotes from those chapters and the anime as well. This is somewhat of a thought/character exploration fic (mostly from the perspective of Kusanagi, though still in third person) so most parts with actual speech are parts from the manga/anime itself. I'd explain what I wanted to show but it'd be more fun if you guys explored it on your own and tell me your thoughts~
Blood, bone and ash
The flames of the Red King could burn all to nothingness.
No blood. No bone. No ash.
If only those words were true, then perhaps the red clansmen wouldn't have fallen into the violent madness they were in now.
Blood
His blood has dyed their world red.
"Are you going to burn it?" Kusanagi asked as he hesitantly looked at the blood covered body of the once happy and gentle boy.
"Yes."
The answer came with no hesitation. Kusanagi looked over at his king. Stoic, silent, staring forward. To the untrained eye it would seem the third king was taking the news rather well, but Kusanagi knew, the king of flames was a hair's breadth away from burning down the city to look for Totsuka's killer.
Kusanagi looked back to the boy again. Red. So much red. Then another shimmer caught his eye.
"That piercing…was there such a red colour on it before?"
"The middle part had become hollowed," Mikoto answered, tone robotic.
"Was there something in the middle?" Kusanagi asked, curious until he realized the red was the same shade as the red that was beginning to dominate his vision, "that…red-"
But he was cut off as his king made known his plans.
"Blood. Bone. Not even ash will be left behind. So there is no need to prepare a tomb."
Bone
His captured memories became the backbone for their rage.
"That guy's a strange dude," Mikoto stated as if it was the most natural thing in the world to say.
"You got that right," Kusanagi answered as he looked on fondly to the members of HOMRA gathered around to watch Yata trying to teach Totsuka the art of skateboarding, "he can't fight but he seems so comfortable in the midst of guys who do nothing but fight. He's like a wild animal trainer."
Not long after, a crashing sound could be heard from the group as Totsuka fell from the skateboard and landed ungracefully on his behind.
"You really suck at this!" Yata laughed as he watched Totsuka pick himself up.
"Look who's talking, Yata!" Totsuka shot back, "you suck at Sevens!"
"Huh? What about you, Totsuka-san? That's what happens when a guy who likes old-dude hobbies, like bonsai, wants to learn how to skateboard!" Yata countered.
Totsuka simply huffed as he proudly stated, "I enjoy trying lots of different things."
The group smiled, knowing Totsuka's love of new hobbies.
"Which reminds me, I bought an old-style movie camera," Totsuka revealed excitedly.
"Just take videos with your phone," Yata stated matter-of-factly.
"It just isn't the same," Totsuka said as went through the motions of sweeping an invisible camera at the group, "I've been shooting a lot of clips. I'll show them to you sometime."
It seemed like nothing at the time, but now, they were glad that he had bought that decrypt and out of date machine.
Because now…
"I'm sorry, Mikoto…I have bad news…"
Kusanagi ended the call and looked over at the dead boy in the crow's arms. Looking from the body then down at Totsuka's treasured video camera, Kusanagi couldn't help but recall those words.
'If it was me, I would feel happy if I was still at that spot after my death. But a ghost is only there because someone wants to see it. The actual dead person has no influence over it.'
Totsuka's words echoed in his mind. Did he know he was going to die?
If yes…
Perhaps he had meant for these memories to help keep him alive after his death should HOMRA need the comfort. Perhaps he thought that would be enough to stop them from going on a murderous rampage.
He was wrong.
The memories left served only as a reminder of what was taken. And that reminder soon roared into a burning flame of vengeance and call for penance. HOMRA did not crumple from paralyzing grief or bitterness because the memories left were strong. Strong enough to form a new backbone and purpose for unity.
Now the time was drawing near for the clansmen to quench their thirst.
The camera lay still upon the countertop. The image of his last moments ingrained within the final film. Kusangi rose and gently placed a hand on surface of the camera. It seemed so fragile, like porcelain…like life.
"Always being so irresponsible, and then dying on us like this…damn fool," Kusanagi cursed, more angry at himself than at the one he called a fool.
Ash
His death brought a sadness that clung like a layer of persistent ash.
The projector started with a click. Another memory. Another day they would never get back. Another reminder that the one who had so diligently collected the happy days had died in cold blood.
Whirr, whirr, click. Whirr, whirr, click. The projector whined as another cassette was put into it. This was the second dozen they had watched that day. The silence persisted as the red clansmen focused their attention on the single lighted image produced by the projector.
As the current film ended, Kusanagi took out yet another. They wanted to see it all. The moments that would never return. Boxes upon boxes were stacked up in the corner as they sorted and carefully stored them. They were important. After all, there would never be more.
"…Totsuka-san sure had recorded a lot," Eric said, slumped over on the chair staring at the recording.
"Many things have increased thanks to his varied hobbies. But among them, these films are the most after all…let's just save these then," Kusanagi said thoughtfully as he carefully packaged the endless rolls of film for safe-keeping.
The despair was heavy. The wound still fresh. Silence reigned supreme as the gaping hole Totsuka's death left became filled with grief. Like a layer of ash that would not disappear no matter how many times it's dusted out. But none present even tried to wipe the ash away. Why would they? Even if it consistently reminded them of his death, it was proof that he had existed. That he had lived.
Kusanagi sighed as he looked at the happiness limited to the brightly lit up square on the screen. It was precious, but it was also mocking as he realized the giant contrast between them. Light and dark. Carefree and strained. Happiness and sadness. Life and death. Taking his eyes off the screen for the first time that day he looked at the others. It was like time had frozen over and stopped. They mourned and the despair was visible.
"Don't be gloomy! There's something we have to do that's right ahead of us!" Yata stressed as he reminded his fellow clansmen why they were gathered there in the first place.
As if woken from a dream, the red clansmen of HOMRA stood and straightened their backs. Even if the sadness would forever be there, the time to grieve was not now.
"Here we go."
"Kusanagi…" Mikoto spoke as he stood from Totsuka's side.
"What is it?" Kusanagi asked as he watched his king turn towards the door.
"I'm going to return the favour," the Red King stated.
It seemed like a simple and obvious answer. In reality, it was anything but that.
"I won't say things like 'it's okay' or 'everything will work out'…" Kusanagi warned.
Not only because those were things he would say, but because they both knew that it wouldn't be okay and it wouldn't work out.
"It's alright. You don't need to say either," came the answer.
Kusanagi closed his eyes. It was going to end. The eternity he wished for.
"…it wasn't half bad to fight along with you, Totsuka and everyone in HOMRA. We were like a bunch of young punks playing around…all those times weren't bad at all," Kusanagi said opening nostalgia filled eyes.
'I wish that this place and its warmth will continue to last for all eternity.'
The place that he loved was being dyed a murderous crimson. His wish was being defiled and trodden on.
Kusanagi knew that Totsuka wouldn't approve of what they were about to do. That he would rather his death remain unavenged then for it to destroy the warmth he loved so much.
Even so, it was too late. The sadness fell around them like a thick, persistent layer of ash. The vivid memories became the backbone for their rage. The burning red covered their vision as their world became dyed with blood.
Kusanagi looked up at his king. He knew what he and the rest of HOMRA would lose should they choose this path, but he didn't have the strength to choose the path of forgiveness. They wouldn't disappear. The sadness, the anger, the red.
"Let's return the favour."
Blood, bone, and ash.
The flames of the red king could burn all to nothingness.
Totsuka Tatara was the one exception.
-End-
Author's comments: Hope you guys enjoyed it! And hopefully the jumping around didn't confuse anyone. I find Kusanagi and Totsuka's characters fascinating! Ironically, they aren't my favourite characters (though pretty close, they're definitely top 5). Wonder if anyone can guess who my fav is?