A/N: Firstly, this was inspired by my lovely cousin, momoxtoshiro, who wrote me two beautiful oneshots to this fandom for Christmas - and after much hounding and pleading on my part, I think. :P Although this is hardly anything feels-shattering or even that interesting, I probably wouldn't have started this for another year, well after the show was over, if her fics didn't push my feels over the edge. :3

Secondly, this is essentially my test fic before I try venturing into some plotted oneshots for this fandom. It's a part of my process. I needed to get into the head of the character I'll be devoting the rest of my fangirling life to before I started giving some full-blown stories a shot. That being said, don't expect much out of this. If you like character studies, well then, this is for you! ^^;; Enjoy!

PS: I have yet to read the light novels so if there are any inconsistencies, I sincerely apologize. :(

Kingdom Come

The walls to his kingdom were impenetrable. He'd been so certain of that. HOMRA's defenses were just as strong as their will to fight. They'd proved that to him time and time again. What outsiders didn't understand about HOMRA was that they were far more than an army of lost kids endowed with limitless powers. They were the strongest and most feared clan in the city because they had something to protect. Of all the clans, their purpose was unrivaled in its worth. That became more and more apparent with each man that came to him, seeking that one gift they'd forever been deprived of.

It wasn't power. In the early stages of HOMRA's foundations, he had thought that it was. Beaten and bedraggled boys would drag themselves from the streets to beg him for a chance at greatness, for a chance at redemption. He hadn't cared enough then not to give it to them, regardless of how they might use it to meet their own ends. But, as the years passed and the red flames continued to bind those forgotten soldiers to him, he watched HOMRA grow into something more than unbridled devastation. He saw a new kind of flame begin to kindle, and while it was hot to the touch, it didn't burn – not to the ones that embraced it.

It was family. Everything HOMRA did was for each other. It was this devotion that fueled the intensity of their fire - that reduced the other clans to little more than a group of chess pieces pushed along a board. HOMRA was free. One could come and go as they pleased. He didn't demand unwavering loyalty, and yet, that was exactly what he got. He didn't understand it. He hadn't turned HOMRA into what it was now. They had done that on their own. That they allowed him to stay was a great mystery and a greater blessing to him.

They didn't need him to survive. HOMRA burned too brightly to be doused, whether he was their king or not. He needed to keep telling himself that, being faced with his own mortality as he was. Still, while he was there for them to look to – whether it be for orders or security or even guidance – he would serve in his position with the utmost responsibility for as long as he was still standing. He owed them that, for without their sparks to feed his flame, he would have been reduced to ash a long time ago. Their lives were his own. He had learned from them what Totsuka's words had meant: "power was not always made to destroy." His greatest strength was to protect his family, to have something worth fighting for.

He just wished he'd been able to look Totsuka in the eye and tell him he finally understood that. By the time that he did, it had been too late. Totsuka's murder had brought his attention to the sole breach in his kingdom's walls, and it was that the more you loved something, the more it hurt to have it taken away. It had been so easy, too, like being pushed off the roof of the castle. He still hadn't hit the ground. The first word of the slaughter had pulled the battlements from beneath his feet, and the collision with the earth wouldn't come until justice was exacted.

It had been a ruthless blow - to him and to all of HOMRA. To have such a cherished bond cut had nearly unraveled them to disrepair. If not for this avenging goal to help satiate their grief, he feared that they would have fallen apart completely. It had been the first time that his faith in his abilities as their king had been so shaken. But, the mission to hunt down the killer had been decided well before he gave the orders. It had rested unspoken yet, already agreed upon that such cruelty would not go unpunished. HOMRA abided by one law, one that was written deep beneath the simmering flames in their blood: family was everything. It was more precious than gold and the consequences for wounding that bond would be paid for with ruin. They were solely committed to that cause. It was what cemented them together through such senselessness. It wasn't as blind as vengeance or as petty as a search for closure. It was what defined them. It proved to themselves the extent of their loyalty for one another.

He trusted them to do the right thing. That was why he'd gotten himself stuck where he was now, reflecting in the half-light of the Blue King's prison. Perhaps it was seeing the stiff-backed shadows of the Blue soldiers passing beyond the screens of his cell that led him to his thoughts. Sometimes he wondered if the Blues were just as much prisoners to their "pure cause" as he was in his cell. Everything was so rigid and conformed in the domain of the Blue King. What, other than the bolts of azure energy, kept them from turning on one another? They weren't a family. While every attack on HOMRA was met with rightful intolerance, he couldn't help but feel as if the members of Scepter4 were expendable. Would they fight to the death to protect one another? If it meant a break in formation, he doubted that they would.

He wouldn't argue with how the other kings chose to channel their powers, especially not Munakata. There were brief, fleeting days where he admired what the man was trying to achieve. However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fathom how peace could be accomplished through such rigid order. And it stoked a fury in him that he rarely let show to have the man interfering with such a personal vendetta. They tried to collar the rebellious vigor of HOMRA and only succeeded in suffocating them. Maybe they wouldn't have been so volatile if the rest of the world simply left them alone. Violence perpetuated violence. They wouldn't have to turn the city upside-down if such an injustice hadn't been done to them. Surely, Munakata understood that but, his need for framework and control did little to prove otherwise.

Totsuka's killer was the only threat left against HOMRA that had yet to be dealt with. Although he would never let it be seen, deep down he was almost desperate to find the cackling monster in the film. That he remained at large meant the only thing he'd ever come to cherish was not safe. What were his powers if he couldn't defend them from a madman? Every day he sat there, feigning patience, another seed of dread planted itself in the back of his mind. While he waited, safe from being hurt or hurting others, what was happening on the outside? Did they all make it back to the bar at the end of their hunt each night? Did they make certain they were never caught somewhere alone? The magnitude of a second death to the same bullet was too great for him to even comprehend.

His apprehension proved to be justified when the sudden clatter of an old red phone rang against the floor of his cell, drawing him out of his meditative silence. Absently, he felt relieved that it wasn't the horrible dinner service Scepter4 provided for its prisoners. He analyzed the foreign object for a moment before the eerie voice rose from the speakers. The maniacal greeting was soon followed by the emergence of a white, canine specter. Where it came from and why it was there mattered little to him. All he cared about was getting rid of it and finally breaking out of these chains.

He was careful not to act hastily though, closing his eyes to the creature's taunts as it proceeded to confess about being responsible for Totsuka's death. It went on to an attempt at provoking him, mocking him with specific threats to the others in his clan that he was closest to. It didn't trouble him much. If it was in here, then HOMRA was safe out there and he would be free to protect them soon enough. Besides, he didn't have much reason to worry about them. Totsuka had always been one of their biggest concerns, so reserved was he with his abilities. As much as he loathed thinking about it, it had only been a matter of time that he met his demise. He blamed himself for not teaching the younger man how to use the gift he'd been given, and not helping him refine it to the point that it would always come to his aid if he willed it. The others, however, would not hesitate to exert their dominance in a given crisis.

He wasn't intimidated when the phantom threatened Kusanagi and Yata – he almost broke a smile thinking of how quickly the fox would be reduced to cinders if it tried. It was only when the thing started with its lewd remarks about HOMRA's shining gem that his indifference towards it snapped. Anna was the last of them to remain unmarred by the world's cruelty. Totsuka's death had hit her hardest, yet she suffered through it with calm and grace. How she retained her doll-like passivity throughout the harshness of such a life, was borderline miraculous.

Sometimes, he regretted ever bringing her into his life – what business did he have, showing such a gentle soul into a world of unrelenting chaos? Other times though, he didn't know what he would do now if he hadn't. It was purely selfish why he kept her so close. He caught himself thinking quite often about if it would be better to find her a proper family. She certainly wouldn't be so vulnerable to harm if she weren't around the likes of the Red Clan. And yet, he never acted upon his thoughts, because while the rest of HOMRA was too wild and tumultuous for him to always be certain everyone was safe, she was the sole constant that kept him at ease. Whereas he was always uncertain as to the whereabouts of the HOMRA boys, he always knew where Anna was. The faint tug on the hem of his jacket, or the feather-light clasping of her small fingers around his calloused ones, kept him anchored and comforted through all upheaval.

She was safest and, at the same time, in the most danger, as long as she was next to him. But, if he could trust his powers to do one thing, it was not to fail him in guarding the princess. She embodied everything he feared and valued, and he was better because of that. She balanced him when he felt the scales tipping him into doubt. She was the most vivid reminder of what HOMRA represented. Even when he failed them as a whole, so long as he didn't fail her, at least he still had the illusion of keeping siege from completely crumbling his castle.

So when this wiry little gremlin circled his head with its deranged and sadistic promises of sullying Anna – his Anna – the rage that tagged itself onto his desire to shield those he loved, manifested itself against the trickster demon. The misguided parasite tried pitifully to wind itself around the throat of a lion, only to be purged into fleeing in terror. He allowed himself a smile, having finally accomplished what he'd set out to do. He now knew where the danger truly laid. All that remained was to terminate it, and he would be sure to do the honors himself.

It felt liberating to flex his powers after lying dormant for so long in the prison. It was no challenge to leave – he could hardly even call it an escape. He was sure Munakata had been fully aware upon taking him into custody that he would let himself out when he deemed himself ready. Why the captain's foot-soldiers insisted upon standing between him and the gates regardless, was beyond him. He did Munakata the small courtesy of not obliterating them completely but, as vengeance for the slop they tried passing off as food around here, he didn't hold back too much. And he was in a hurry to get back home.

He found them just outside the front gates. Reverent smiles and relieved eyes greeted him and he paused in his advance to survey the group of faces. The small tumors of discontent withered away when he assured himself that they were all accounted for. Pride flickered in his chest at how well they had looked after one another in his absence.

The final assurance came with the delicate click of red heels on the stone pathway. Anna didn't wait to reaffirm her position beside him, having been without it for so long. Her fingers curled into his palm like a lost puzzle piece that had finally found its place in the picture. For a moment, his feet were back on the ground, having survived the fall from the top of the castle. All of the cracks in the walls were reinforced. When the dust and rubble cleared away, all he wanted was what stood around him now. He promised himself then, as they headed off to vanquish the evil jester, that this would be their last war. His kingdom would know peace once more, no matter the sacrifice.

A/N: Uhm, what did I want to say here? Er, congrats if you read it without falling asleep. It was pretty boring wasn't it? Like I said, this is just a test - hopefully anything I do with him in the future won't be so...flat. I tried to give it an itty-bit of humor - with the food complaints - but, I'm starting to think that was a bad call. Mreh. Aaaand, if the perception of Scepter4 came off a little harsh then I blame Mikoto. This is just what I think he thinks.
And I'll stop blathering now.

Critiques are welcome and greatly appreciated! Honestly, let me know if you think I should keep going in this fandom or cut my losses and run. xD Thanks! :D